Watch Me Disappear
agree not to let girls come between us this year.”
“Okay, so how are you going to explain it to Maura when one of your buddies suddenly has a girlfriend?”
“My buddies? Are you kidding?”
“What if your wish comes true and Missy suddenly sees your charms?”
“Do you think she will?” he says, his voice full of exaggerated hopefulness.
“Never.”
But I’m not so sure about that really. Things between Missy and Wes aren’t going well. Missy has to divide her attention between running, schoolwork, her new brother, me, and Wes. I’m grateful that Missy feels I am worth making time for in her busy life and that she doesn’t expect me to be the perpetual third wheel, but Wes just feels slighted. He preferred the way things were back in the summer, when Missy had all the time in the world for him. Missy is holding out hope that once cross-country ends and before indoor track starts she can smooth things over with him, but she is also having her doubts. I don’t think she can bring herself to admit she might have to break up with him.
“He keeps kind of suggesting that I should have sex with him to prove that I love him,” she said the other day. “But I don’t know. I think sex is supposed to be an expression of love, not some way of proving yourself.”
“Well then it sounds like you know what you need to do,” I said, as if I had any experience that qualified me to give advice.
Another afternoon when I was at Missy’s house, Wes called and Missy went to another room to talk to him. While she was gone, Anna asked me what I thought of the situation because she was afraid Wes was being too jealous and controlling. I agreed, but I also know Paul is poised to be Missy’s rebound, which makes me secretly wish she and Wes can find a way to work things out, and then I feel guilty for my own selfishness. I’ve always thought of myself as a good and honest person, but my friendship with Missy is making me unsure about that.
* * *
Now everyone is scrambling to find a date and get a dress for the semi-formal dance. The semi is held every year on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. One morning on the drive to school Maura reveals that she decided to take my advice and get out there and have fun, and to that end, she’s bringing a guy she’s been hanging out with from East Vo-tech. Of course Missy and Wes are planning to attend. I had figured I’d just stay home alone, but then one night Paul suggests we skip it together.
“We can go grab a bite to eat, catch a movie, and then check out the parties,” he says.
“Definitely better than some lame dance,” I say, half believing it. I want Paul to want me to be his date and to see me as a beautiful girl in a beautiful dress, but I also know from my homecoming experience that dances are not my cup of tea. Still, he’s singling me out as the person he wants to spend the evening with, and I am excited.
Then he asks, “Will you help me with my math homework?”
Of course I agree and he says he’ll drive right over.
“You can’t come over! Maura lives next door.” I don’t know why I’m still obsessed with not rocking that boat.
“So if she asks, I’ll tell her you’re my tutor.”
“I guess she’d believe you. After all, she knows I’m not your type,” I say, instantly regretting the bitterness in my tone.
Paul thinks I’m just making a joke and tells me he’ll be here in 10 minutes.
* * *
My mother loves Paul. She loved him from the first time he picked me up for John’s party. She doesn’t mind that I spend so much time on the phone with “such a nice, handsome boy,” and now that he has started showing up a few times a week to “study,” she is beside herself with joy.
“He must like you,” she keeps insisting.
“He likes Missy,” I keep responding.
Generally, he comes over to do homework. He struggles in math and science, and I help him. We work on our college application essays and gossip about teachers. During one of our study sessions, I learned that his mom recently started working second shift at the hospital, which explains why he is suddenly showing up at my house each evening. He gets tired of being home alone. His mom starts work at three and doesn’t get home until almost eleven. Most of the time my mom ends up feeding him dinner, although he insists that’s not why he comes over.
When he told me about his
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