around Smiths Falls with no destination in mind. I stop at the store for a cup of yogurt, and then carry on driving around aimlessly. I end up sitting in the school parking lot, eating strawberry yogurt and watching the streamers for tonight’s dance flap in the wind.
I really need to work on making some friends. I had a good group of friends back in Ottawa, before we moved. I haven’t heard from Emily in awhile. Her emails have been sparse since Christmas. I guess I’ve fallen a few places on her priority list now that she has a boyfriend, whatever the hell his name is.
A girlfriend might be a good idea too. Not that Elise was right, or anything. It’s just a thought.
Really? And how much would you pay her to pretend to be attracted to you?
Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a blind asexual girl to go out with. Or maybe a chick with dementia that can’t compare me to other guys and realize I’m rather inadequate.
When I get sick of my own thoughts I turn on the radio to fill the silence. “Ruby Tuesday” by the Stones is playing, and I’m reminded of Willa. Maybe I’ll drop by unannounced to bother her again. I could make it a Saturday tradition, since I have nothing else to do with my weekends.
*
When I get to the Kirk house, Willa is shoveling the driveway. She asks me what the hell I’m doing there and I ask her if she wants help clearing snow off the cars. She hands me a brush.
“You’re not getting ready to drive to the dance, are you?”
“I don’t do stuff like that.”
“So what are you doing tonight?”
“Your mom.” I didn’t know anyone over the age of ten still made ‘your mom’ jokes.
“No, really.”
Willa shrugs. “Hanging out. Going down to Joe Moore’s house tonight.”
“What’s at his house?” I thought Elwood was trying to get into her pants. Did I miss that dunce Moore’s attempts to do the same? Does she keep turning down Elwood because she’s into Moore?
“A small after party with people from school, and some of my friends from Port Elmsley.”
“So you don’t dance, but you’ll go to an after party with the jackasses from school?”
“You visit a classmate you can’t stand on a Saturday. You don’t have anything better to do, do you?”
I toss the brush back to her and turn to leave.
“Harper.”
“Piss off, Kirk.”
“Do you want to come to the party tonight?”
I half-turn to look at her incredulously. That was one hell of a mood swing. One minute she’s insulting me and the next she’s inviting me out with her friends.
“What time?” Shut up, I’m lonely.
“Eleven.”
“I’ll meet you here and follow you.”
“Fine.”
When Mom hears that I made plans tonight, she offers to drive me. I think she just wants to spy and see if I imagined the whole thing or if I’m telling the truth.
Three of Elise’s friends are over. I can hear them giggling and chattering in her room as they get ready for the dance. Maybe it’s not too late to convince Elise to wear a more modest dress. Or a tarp. And a chastity belt. And blinders so she can’t ogle the seniors.
She comes downstairs with glitter in her spiked hair—seriously, glitter —and asks Mom to borrow some lipstick.
“What do you need lipstick for? It’s just a school dance.” Both Mom and Elise roll their eyes at me and neglect to answer my question. Damn it all. I remember making mud pies with Elise and pulling her pigtails. Now she’s getting all slutted up to go to a dance, and I’m chauffeuring her there. I should have bought a ticket so I could chaperone her, too.
“She’s really growing up, isn’t she?” Dad says when he sees the look on my face.
“Yeah. Is there a drug that can stop that?”
He laughs at me. “I know, it’s hard. But she’s lucky she’s got two older brothers to look out for her.”
Not that she makes it easy.
“How come you’re not going to the dance?”
“Because it’s dumb.”
“You might try to have a little more fun,
I really need to work on making some friends. I had a good group of friends back in Ottawa, before we moved. I haven’t heard from Emily in awhile. Her emails have been sparse since Christmas. I guess I’ve fallen a few places on her priority list now that she has a boyfriend, whatever the hell his name is.
A girlfriend might be a good idea too. Not that Elise was right, or anything. It’s just a thought.
Really? And how much would you pay her to pretend to be attracted to you?
Maybe I’ll get lucky and find a blind asexual girl to go out with. Or maybe a chick with dementia that can’t compare me to other guys and realize I’m rather inadequate.
When I get sick of my own thoughts I turn on the radio to fill the silence. “Ruby Tuesday” by the Stones is playing, and I’m reminded of Willa. Maybe I’ll drop by unannounced to bother her again. I could make it a Saturday tradition, since I have nothing else to do with my weekends.
*
When I get to the Kirk house, Willa is shoveling the driveway. She asks me what the hell I’m doing there and I ask her if she wants help clearing snow off the cars. She hands me a brush.
“You’re not getting ready to drive to the dance, are you?”
“I don’t do stuff like that.”
“So what are you doing tonight?”
“Your mom.” I didn’t know anyone over the age of ten still made ‘your mom’ jokes.
“No, really.”
Willa shrugs. “Hanging out. Going down to Joe Moore’s house tonight.”
“What’s at his house?” I thought Elwood was trying to get into her pants. Did I miss that dunce Moore’s attempts to do the same? Does she keep turning down Elwood because she’s into Moore?
“A small after party with people from school, and some of my friends from Port Elmsley.”
“So you don’t dance, but you’ll go to an after party with the jackasses from school?”
“You visit a classmate you can’t stand on a Saturday. You don’t have anything better to do, do you?”
I toss the brush back to her and turn to leave.
“Harper.”
“Piss off, Kirk.”
“Do you want to come to the party tonight?”
I half-turn to look at her incredulously. That was one hell of a mood swing. One minute she’s insulting me and the next she’s inviting me out with her friends.
“What time?” Shut up, I’m lonely.
“Eleven.”
“I’ll meet you here and follow you.”
“Fine.”
When Mom hears that I made plans tonight, she offers to drive me. I think she just wants to spy and see if I imagined the whole thing or if I’m telling the truth.
Three of Elise’s friends are over. I can hear them giggling and chattering in her room as they get ready for the dance. Maybe it’s not too late to convince Elise to wear a more modest dress. Or a tarp. And a chastity belt. And blinders so she can’t ogle the seniors.
She comes downstairs with glitter in her spiked hair—seriously, glitter —and asks Mom to borrow some lipstick.
“What do you need lipstick for? It’s just a school dance.” Both Mom and Elise roll their eyes at me and neglect to answer my question. Damn it all. I remember making mud pies with Elise and pulling her pigtails. Now she’s getting all slutted up to go to a dance, and I’m chauffeuring her there. I should have bought a ticket so I could chaperone her, too.
“She’s really growing up, isn’t she?” Dad says when he sees the look on my face.
“Yeah. Is there a drug that can stop that?”
He laughs at me. “I know, it’s hard. But she’s lucky she’s got two older brothers to look out for her.”
Not that she makes it easy.
“How come you’re not going to the dance?”
“Because it’s dumb.”
“You might try to have a little more fun,
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