Watch Me Disappear

to continue the conversation. Katherine clearly finds me objectionable, so I drop it. I’m glad when Jessica returns. She hands me a bottle of Waterbabies SPF 50 and shrugs. “That was all Mrs. Morgan could find,” she says, but I’m just grateful she came back with real sun block and not some kind of tanning oil SPF 4. Jessica plops back down onto the lounge chair. “So anyway, I really want to know about California,” she says. Apparently she did not forget where she’d left off in our conversation when Maura sent her on her little errand.
    “You missed it, Jess. She hasn’t lived in California since middle school,” Tina says. Katherine just rolls her eyes.
    “Oh! Well it’s not like middle school was that long ago. She probably still remembers some stuff. I’ve always wanted to go to California. I’m going to go there for college if my parents let me,” Jessica says, turning to me.
    “Sure. What do you want to know?”
    “Well, you know, what’s it like?”
    “When did you say the guys are getting here?” Katherine asks Maura before I can answer Jessica.
    “After Jim’s baseball game.”
    “I hope that’s soon. Can I have that nail polish? I want to do my toes.”
    Maura hands it to her and turns back to me. “I want to hear about California, too.”
    “To see the sunset over the ocean. That would be amazing,” Jessica says. She is about the cheesiest person I’ve ever met, but in a sweet way.
    “It’s a big state, you know. I lived in Southern California, so I can’t tell you much about San Francisco or anything, but it’s pretty nice where I lived. Warm all the time, if you like that. People are pretty nice. I mean, everyone’s trying to get famous, but still people are mostly nice.” I try to give the safest answer I can, nothing controversial. I don’t bother with cynicism, since I am sure at least one-third of my audience—the third that actually wants to talk to me—won’t get it. No need to mention that I prefer to live in places where the four seasons are different from one another, that I like open green spaces, or that I despise all the phonies who’ll do anything to get on TV.
    “Ooh, did you ever see celebrities?” Jessica wants to know.
    “Yeah, a few times, but not up close. I never met any.”
    “Oh.”
    “You have to remember, I was pretty young. I was never hanging out on Sunset Boulevard or anything.”
    Jessica nods. I’m sure she is thinking how if she moves to California she’ll know where to hang out to spot celebs.
    “So that’s it?” Maura says. “It’s warm and people are nice?” Maura isn’t impressed and I am sort of glad. I don’t think I would like myself much if there was anything I could say that would impress Maura.
    I notice that my parents have installed themselves at the umbrella table and are not talking to anyone. Mom probably refuses to let dad leave her side. “It’s been great to meet all of you, but I think I’ll just go see how my parents are doing,” I say.
    “No, you should stay,” Jessica says. “Don’t you want to meet the guys?”
    “Maybe some other time. My mom gets really shy and I’m afraid she thinks she has to stay if I stay.”
    “Well you should come out with us sometime. We can show you around,” Jessica offers.
    I just smile and try to walk away as gracefully as possible, hoping that the backs of my legs aren’t horribly covered in stripes from the sticky lawn chair.
     
    *          *          *
     
    “Did you notice how they were dressed?” I ask my mom later when she suggests I try to make friends with Maura.
    “Well, it was a pool party of a sort.”
    “They don’t want to be my friends. They were totally fake, and some of them couldn’t even fake friendliness.”
    “They’re probably intimidated by you.”
    “Right.” They were intimidated by me . Four skinny beauty queens. For one thing, they have safety in numbers. Maybe one of them alone might be intimidated by the thought that I am somehow more sophisticated than them because my family moved around (and because I lived in California, which is apparently their Mecca), but four against one, why should they be intimidated? They can’t possibly be worried I’d steal their boyfriends. To them I am a weirdo with a few pounds to lose. And my mother’s desire for me to make friends with them is infuriating and absurd. She wants me to be the perfect, straight-A student and to be pretty and popular, but she