Ten Times Fast Read online

  When we were kids Jimmy would always tell me that I wasn’t allowed to like Veronica. Which was totally okay because I always thought Ramona was cooler anyway. (That and Veronica is really scary when she’s mad.)

  Ramona was never really good at anything we did together. In all the games we played and every time we would race, she would come in last. But I loved her for that. She knew she would lose every time but she still played and she still had fun. Most of the time.

  I remember once when we raced bikes (just her and I) and she was really excited because she learned how to ride her bike before me, so she thought she could beat me at a race around the block. But I won and she threw down her bike on the curb and sat on the grass in front of my house. I was annoyed because it was HER idea to race in the first place but then she ended up pouting and pulling out all my Dad’s grass.

  Well, it was only my Dad’s grass until he left my mom that same time next year. But again, that’s a different story.

  Anyway, I was annoyed until she started crying. Usually, I couldn’t care less about girls or them crying. But I felt bad when Ramona cried. It did something to me inside. I didn’t just WANT to make her feel better. I NEEDED to make her feel better. I went two doors down to the Rakes’ yard and snuck around to the side of their house where they grew these giant sunflowers. I tried to pull one out of the ground but the stem was so thick that I had to use my teeth to tug it free.

  When I got back, Ramona was laying down on the grass looking up at the sky. I lied down next to her, turning to meet her face. Her eyes were splotchy, but she wasn’t crying anymore. I put the big sunflower in her arm and told her that it was bright and pretty just like her. She rolled over and gave me a hug then went back to watching the clouds.

  I hate seeing girls cry, but it sucks even more when it’s Ramona. I don’t want to see Ramona cry or hurt. I didn’t want to then and I still don’t want to. And I most definitely do not want to be the reason she cries. I’m sure this whole attraction thing is just a random phase. A weird, passing, full moon thing...

  I’m glad she’s coming to my game Friday night.

  CHAPTER 4

  “HEY, I FORGOT TO ASK, how was dinner the other day night? How was your Mom?” Veronica asks Friday morning before school starts.

  As I exchange the appropriate books from bag to locker and locker to bag, I respond, “She drank an entire bottle of wine before our food even arrived. Honestly, I was actually kind of thankful, though. She can finally relax after she’s had her wine.” I sigh.

  In reality, I can handle her drinking a glass or two of wine, but it’s the catatonic stare that consumes her eyes after an entire bottle that’s my real concern. It’s like she completely leaves her mind. Parts of her disappear when she drinks. It’s like she becomes half human.

  “Yikes. She didn’t, like, get belligerent though, right?”

  Other then a couple of stumbles, charming slurs and sloppy smiles, she never makes a scene. Also, her anxiety pills mellow her out. In my opinion, she’s excellent at moonlighting as the perfect person.

  “No, it was fine,” I mumble. “She just…” I slump my shoulder, fending off the sting in my heart and try to find the right words to say. “She looks like she’s wasting away from the inside out. It’s like she’s becoming hollow or something,” I admit meekly. There’s a stark contrast between her skin that’s now riddled with pink and gray splotches and fine wrinkles, to her taught porcelain skin from a year ago. I’m certain it’s impossible for her to look ugly but she doesn’t look as young as she did a year ago.

  Veronica puts her arm around my shoulders and says, “She’ll get better, Ramona. I’m sure it’s just a rough patch. Like your Dad said, she’s just trying to figure out what she wants to do next since she’s not teaching anymore. Give her time. She’ll get through it soon.”

  I deflect and effectively change the subject matter, “So, what’s up with you and your new Spanish partner? You’ve been giggling with him every class. What’s his name again?” Her eyes immediately light up.

  “His name is Chase Washington and isn’t he super cute?” I don’t know Chase personally but I do know that he is very handsome. He has the darkest skin I’ve ever seen with honey colored eyes, delectably high cheekbones and a square jaw. And his hairstyle is awesome. He shaves the sides real short and leaves the middle a little bit longer so it looks like a wide mohawk. “He’s new this year. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed him sooner.”

  “Doesn’t he play lacrosse?”

  Not that I take special notice of any of the lacrosse players.

  Other than Brett, of course.

  Because he’s our friend.

  Our friend, Brett.

  Ramona, focus!

  “He does and now I’m really excited for the game,” she squeals as we walk arm-in-arm to our classes.

  The first bell rings.

  Veronica pulls me in for a hug. “I’ll see you after class. Try not to stare at Ryan all class again, okay?” she reminds me.

  I look up over her shoulder and of course, I make direct eye contact with Ryan who, judging by his raised brows and curious eyes, heard what Veronica said. My eyes widen in horror and then he half-grins at me before walking into the room. I go from horror to swoon in less than a second.

  “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you having a hot flash? Why are you pink?” Veronica asks, fanning my face, having not seen him walk by us.

  “Uh, no reason. See you after class.” She has a puzzled look on her face. I turn and walk in to Mrs. R’s torture chamber.

  I’m hoping that the only drama that occurs this time will be the beheading of French royalty and the infamously (supposedly) uttered phrase, let them eat cake.

  CHAPTER 5

  JIMMY HAS A STELLAR reputation among the faculty and staff. In fact, he can usually get anything he needs when he puts on the charm. Today, he nabbed a blanket from Nurse Ehsani’s office simply by employing the power of his smile.

  Nurse Ehsani is a school treasure. She’s an older Egyptian woman who grew up in Alexandria, a large seaport city in Egypt right on the Mediterranean. She’s worked here for eons. All the students love her and she loves what she does. She probably would have let us borrow a blanket even without Jimmy amping up his already charismatic nature, but I’m sure he didn’t hurt our chances.

  Jimmy and I are sharing the blanket doing some homework. It’s a beautiful day out and we couldn’t resist the change of scenery from our usual post at the library (even though neither of us is particularly “into” the great outdoors). In our opinion, modern society has constructed buildings for a reason:

  To keep the bugs and spiders out.

  A single oak tree leaf tumbles over and gets stuck on the side of my computer screen. The colors cascade from a lush green, dull orange to eventually, a creamy yellow. There’s a small breeze but we’re both working from our computers so we don’t have to worry about papers flying everywhere.

  Fall is my favorite time of year not only for the beautiful trees, but also for the crisp cold air and the powerful feelings of change. Perhaps it’s the romantic idea of shaking off the loose parts in order to welcome new life.

  Nothing dies during fall.

  Things just shift to find new homes, making way for the next cycle. Everything changes in the fall.

  I decidedly could never live anywhere that doesn’t have seasons.

  Nostalgia pierces me during fall. I believe nostalgia is a gray area, an in-between. It’s neither loving nor melancholy. It’s a longing to believe in something greater than you, in whatever form this manifests.

  Hope, maybe.

  God, maybe.

  A future, maybe.

  Romance, maybe.

  Maybe all of it showering down on you at the same time.

  Thinking about romance leads me to thoughts about Ryan. We’ve been in the same school for three years and he never really took notice of me until now. Granted, it’s only because I keep making an ass ou
t of myself in front of him, but there’s something else too... something that wasn’t ever there before. The same is true with Brett too, now that I think about it. I can’t help but to ponder, why now? I wonder if there’s something different about me.

  I probably shouldn’t be over-thinking it.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jimmy asks, softly. I close my eyes and take a refreshing breath of clean air.

  “Fall. The seasons, changes, nostalgia...boys.” I lean back on my hands and tilt my head to the sun. Jimmy shuts his computer, copying my stance. There’s a long pause before he speaks.

  “Sometimes...I’m afraid that I’m missing all the small things because I’m so focused on the big things. Do you know what I mean?” His sentence comes out so evenly that it’s obvious he’s been thinking about it for some time.

  “Yeah...” I contemplate for a moment. “I do. You mean, like, ‘stop and smell the roses’?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that kind of stuff lately...the small stuff...even parties and such. Part of me regrets not attending them more often but at the same time, I’m not sure if I would do anything differently if I had the chance to do it all over again.”

  He pauses for a moment, then continues, “And, as far as boys go, the pickin’s are slim here. There’s no way I’m the only gay man at Mount Saint Mary’s but I’m certainly the only one that’s out and proud.” I chuckle at this.

  Right before high school started Jimmy told his family that he’s gay. Veronica, Brett and I always knew and it was of no concern to us and we never once loved him less. It didn’t go over so well with some of his family, however. His parents have become much more accepting than they were but Jimmy is still careful of what he says around them. His grandparents, on the other hand, dis-owned him when they found out. Jimmy says he doesn’t want them in his life if they can’t accept him for who he is but I can tell it hurts him.

  My thoughts meander back to Brett.

  “Jimmy? Why do you think Brett stopped hanging out with us once we started high school? I mean, I understand him not wanting to hang out with girls but you guys were best friends.” I pluck out strands of grass, nervous that I might have hit a sour topic. He hums for a moment.

  “Lacrosse mostly. If you’re thinking it had anything to do with me coming out, you’re wrong. I think it was gradual. People grow up and sometimes when people grow up they grow apart, you know? We don’t hang out as much but I’ve never believed it to be because I’m gay. We both know Brett and he’s better than that. Besides, he’s still our friend even if we don’t see him as much.” After a moment he asks, “What made you think of that?”

  “I’m realizing how much I’ve missed him. I wonder if I should have tried harder somehow to stay closer friends with him.”

  “Well, it’s never too late to start hanging out more. The game on Friday should be fun.” He glances at me. “Is that all you regret?”

  “Yes and no. I understand what you were saying before. Like, my education is important to me but I also worry that I’m not enjoying the stuff we’re supposed to be doing at our age. It’s like that saying, ‘youth is wasted on the young.’” Jimmy nods in agreement.

  “You’re really into sayings today. It’s like we are so focused on the future and getting older that we’re not enjoying our ‘youthfulness’ while we’re young.” I softly laugh at his use of air quotes.

  “Exactly. But at the same time society has this idea of things you’re ‘supposed to do when you’re young,’ as if there’s a list that needs to be crossed out and check marked.” He chuckles back at my air quotes. “But spell checked and edited twice first, naturally.”

  He laughs. “That says so much about us. It doesn’t work that way though. Or at least it doesn’t have to. Society tries to put people in boxes. Screw the boxes, Bean. We’re doing things that are important to us while we’re having fun. We should never regret that.”

  “Hells yeah.” Jimmy and I exchange an energetic high-five. “The romance and the sex stuff though…I’m nervous going to college totally inexperienced in that department,” I admit to him.

  “Ah, don’t be.” He uses an Irish accent to say, “Just have faith. That’s all we really need. Faith, hope and passion. If we have those three things than our lives will always be fulfilled.”

  “Wow, that’s really beautiful, Father McEwin.” I play along, knowing that he’s imitating the school’s pastor.

  “Thanks. It was word-for-word from his sermon the other day.” He laughs. “You wouldn’t know. You were too busy drooling over Ryan to listen,” he teases.

  “Oh, ha ha. That was only one time, okay? I try to keep my thoughts conservative when I’m in the Lord’s house,” I say smiling. He just rolls his eyes.

  After a moment I ask, “What else is going on in Jimmy World?”

  “Oh, Jimmy’s World...Jimmy’s World…You know, I have my eye on the prize, Ramona. Being Valedictorian and graduation are so close. That’s all I’m about right now. Getting that sweet, sweet Valedictorian crown and getting the hell out of Cayden Springs.” Jimmy lusts to be Valedictorian the same way that some girls lust to be Prom Queen.

  “You’ll get it, Jimmy. No contest. What’s the musical going to be this year?”

  “Ugh, Jesus Christ Superstar.”

  “Oh, no. That’s a huge bummer.” We had to watch the film version in our Sophomore year’s religion class and it was a nightmare.

  “Mega bummer. Looks like I’ll be working backstage instead of onstage for my final high school show,” he says, but doesn’t sound too upset about it.

  “I’ll still be there opening night with flowers.”

  “You better be! And for the love of all that is holy, please, don’t bring–”

  “Carnations. I know.” We both laugh. Jimmy thinks carnations are like the cantaloupe of flower arrangements. The ugly “filler flower” that’s only there to take up room in the bouquet. The same way that cantaloupe just takes up room in a fruit salad.

  “Hey, how are boxing lessons going?”

  Jimmy signed up for classes at the YMCA, desperate to get a good work out and some self-defense. Hopefully, he’ll never have to physically defend himself.

  “It’s fun! Now that it’s been a few weeks I’m actually getting good at it. I wish Veronica could come, but she always has cheer. I think it would be good for her. It’s a good physical outlet. I usually bury myself in theater and homework so it’s nice to hit things and get the aggression out. You know, versus my old ineffective method of vigorously typing out a ten page paper.”

  “Jimmy The Badass,” I marvel and clap as he takes a bow.

  I notice the time on my computer. “All right, I have to get out of here. Mama Mary Scott awaits my return.”

  “Yeah, I need to go home and change for lessons,” he tells me, folding the blanket.

  “Well, don’t hit that bag too hard.” He chuckles as we hug and part ways.

  I’m walking to my car when I spot Brett carrying his gargantuan sports bag. My stomach flops as his vibrant smile comes closer. The way his smile lights up his entire face is addicting.

  “Hi,” he says, when he’s standing a foot away from me.

  “Hi,” I reply, looking up at him.

  His smiling makes me smile even wider.

  Here we are, just two awkward, smiling weirdos.

  “Guess what?” he asks, breaking the silence.

  “What?” I curiously wonder. In a split second, he brings his nose to mine and brushes it back and forth against mine.

  An eskimo kiss.

  “Chicken butt.” He taps my leg gently with his helmet then immediately walks away. He glances over his shoulder and adds, “Drive home safe.”

  Through a fit of giggles all I can muster is, “Thanks.”

  Brett Dixon

  Tuesday 10/1

  I eskimo kissed Ramona. REPEAT: ESKIMO KISS. Who does that?! She probably thinks I’m crazy now. I probably am crazy.

&nb
sp; I don’t even know why I went up to her. My body just did it without even thinking. I had nothing to say so I acted like a child and then RAN AWAY. I have no explanation. I just wanted to be around her and hear her voice. And her giggle. If I could make her laugh at least once a day, I would never have a bad day.

  BUT, I know I have a girlfriend, who happens to be the sexiest girl in school and Homecoming Queen. So, I vow to be “good” and keep things normal and casual between Ramona and I. No more eskimo kisses. I swear, Mr. Chan, I have no idea where that came from.

  Oh, great. Now I’m not going to be able to stop thinking about her all night.

  CHAPTER 6

  “HEY, RAMONA, I SAVED YOU a seat,” Brett tells me as I walk in to Math.

  “Hey. Thanks, Brett.” I’m thankful I don’t have to sit next to Jackass McCoy.

  I have decided that the best option for me is to pretend that Brett never saw my naked leg and undies. Besides, things are only as awkward as you make them.

  Mostly.

  I think.

  We’ll say “hi” or one of us will make a smart-ass comment about something while we breeze past each other in the hallway. We’ve been normal.

  Except when he eskimo kissed me three days ago. I’m trying really hard not to over-think it. I can’t explain how or why that happened but it was the cutest thing a boy has ever done. Every time I think about it I start giggling.

  Having a crush on Brett would ruin our friendship dynamic, not just between the two of us but also the four of us. Even though he doesn’t really hang out with us often, it’s still a big no-no.

  Brett wouldn’t even go for me anyway. He usually dates popular girls and athletes.

  And I am neither.

  Sure, I’m not on the bottom of the social ladder, but I’m certainly not at the top. Not to mention, my idea of physical activity is running down my stairs to eat dinner. It’s best for me in the long run to squash whatever feelings I have sooner than later.