Chasing William (4 page)

I know I was probably neglecting the group
more than I should have, even before William died, but it wasn’t
just me. Everyone started thinking about college and we went off
over the summer to figure out who we were on our own. It wasn’t
just me. I didn’t even get an epiphany out of it. I still have no
idea what I want to do with my life and now it feels like I don’t
even have anyone to discuss it with. Life sucks. I don’t think
anyone should be forced to age beyond a point where naptime is a
required activity. Oh well. I can’t go back in time and I don’t
want to die, so my only choice seems to be to move forward. At
least Facebook has one redeeming feature.

To:
William Davis

Message:
Okay, so, life goal. I need
one. What should I do with the rest of my life? I obviously won’t
spend it with you so that’s one possibility crossed off the list,
but I have to have some kind of talent, right? I’m not great at
math, but I get good grades in everything. That’s gotta be a good
sign. I should be able to do something. Even you had a life plan.
You were going to be a substance abuse counselor. I wish I could do
something so noble, but I don’t think I’m cut out for it.

There has to be something I’m suppose to do
with my screwed-up little life. Right? The fortune cookies won’t
help me. Even the universe is shutting me out. And just because you
might have a better excuse than everybody else doesn’t mean you
shouldn’t help me out. Maybe weird book-buy-back-guy had a point.
Maybe I should go on a road trip and then I wouldn’t have to deal
with anything for awhile. Drive across America like Jack Kerouac
and write a book of bestselling poems. Wouldn’t need a college
education then. But I’ve never been much of a poet. It was a good
almost-plan. I should probably just take things one at a time
anyway. First problem: figure out how to deal with losing you and
move on. Then figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

I can do that all by the end of the year.
Right? Yeah… chance in hell. Love you anyway. Miss you like
crazy.

“
Doing the same thing leads
to the same results.”

“Alright, I know it’s early but I need you
all to say something. Anything. Come on, people.”

“Well, I think Kafka’s going for an
anti-conformist philosophy. Gregor is obviously overwhelmed by
society’s expectations and he changes to break free from the mold
and prove he’s an individual. Kafka thinks society has become too
stereotyped and he thinks more people should refuse to conform,
even if it leads to death.”

Amanda is my complete opposite in the
classroom. Where I only like to talk when I really have something
to say, Amanda likes to chime in about everything whether she has
something to add or not. She also has certain themes all her
responses seem to revolve around. You can put money on the fact
that if she opened her mouth she was going to throw around the
words society, conformity, anti-conformist, and death. She isn’t
even a nihilist, she just liked to throw the terms around because
she thinks it adds to her “image” as an outsider. I don’t think
anyone else thought of Amanda as having an “image”, but it’s
important to her. I guess if it makes her feel better, we all need
something that’s “ours”. If this is her thing then I don’t want to
judge. She might believe all those things she says, you never can
tell what people are thinking.

“Good, very astute.” Miss R. nods but I can
tell she wants Amanda to be a little more original. “Anyone else?”
That is always her follow-up to answers she didn’t think went deep
enough, or answers she thought were a little too trite. Everyone
just looks down at their textbook ,including me. I think we all
like to pretend Miss R. actually believes we are reading and trying
to find an answer. “Come on, Amanda made some very strong points.
Not everyone can agree with those. Let’s get a good debate going.
Come on, class!”

I don’t normally comment in class, and when
I do I never respond after Amanda. There’s this unspoken rule that,
no matter what, we always agree with Amanda and even if you don’t
agree you keep your mouth shut. I realize that’s ridiculous and if
we’re friends it shouldn’t matter but it was just another one of
those things. I really liked this story though. I felt for Gregor,
or I should say I felt
like
Gregor. Since William died it’s
like I’ve somehow transformed into another person and none of my
old friends want to be around me. Even my parents are treating me
differently. I get Gregor. It makes sense. I don’t feel like I had
something to say very often, but I never pass up a chance when I
do. I don’t want to go against Amanda, though. No one in our group
has ever tried before -- in three years it has never happened – and
I’m not sure I want to be the one to find out what she’d do.

“Christine? You look like you have something
to say.”

I’ve made the mistake of looking up from my
textbook and Miss R. chooses that moment to pounce. She is always
on me to speak up more in class, so whenever I look like I had
something to say she calls me out. In her defense, when I look like
I had something to say I usually do.

“Well, maybe it’s more personal than man and
society. I mean, people change and sometimes when they change in
unexpected ways people start to shun them. I mean, at the very end,
Gregor’s sister starts to transform too, but because everyone
expected that change, it’s implied she won’t go through the same
thing. Like when people talk about the sophomore switch and how
people change in high school and end up finding new friends.”

“Excellent! And way to tie it into real
life. That makes my job a lot easier.”

Miss R. walks over to the board and starts
her lecture. I force myself not to look at Amanda, but I can feel
her eyes burning into the side of my head. I’m not sure what I did
that was wrong, but I know it won’t do any good to try and argue
the point with her. It’s hard to pay attention to Miss R. I’m not
sure if other people have this problem but whenever something
happens and people seem mad at me it’s always harder to concentrate
on the rest of life. Miss R. might be talking about Kafka and
themes and reminding us to take notes, but I don’t care. I just
can’t handle anything else right now. I don’t want Amanda to make a
big deal about something so ridiculous because I can’t deal with
any more problems on my own.

The bell rings for lunch. The moment of
truth.

“So I guess that was your grad once-a-year
contribution to class discussions?” Amanda’s smiling but I’m not
sure what she’s thinking. It’s hard to tell what people are
thinking in general, but with Amanda it’s even tougher. She doesn’t
follow normal people rules.

“Yeah, sure.” I smile back and try to act
like it’s not a big deal. Have you ever noticed how hard it is to
act like things aren’t a big deal when you tell yourself to act
like it’s not a big deal?

“We all know I don’t have that problem.”
This is the point where it could go either way. I’m never sure how
Amanda will respond; it’s like walking on egg shells. I hold my
breath. “I mean, no one would ever accuse me of not being able to
fill a room with hot air.” Amanda laughs and I start breathing
again. She’s having a good day. “Come on, Crissy. Let’s get
lunch.”

My little group and I have sat at the same
table for lunch every day since we found each other freshman year.
Back then I think we thought it was lucky. Now I think we just
don’t have anywhere else to sit. It could be the losing William
thing, it could be the growing up and not knowing what to do next
thing, but I’m starting to see everything with different eyes. The
table doesn’t seem so safe anymore.

“Crissy! Amanda!” Mars always seems to be
the first one everywhere and she screams when she sees us. It is
nice to have someone excited about whether or not I’m there, even
if she does the same thing for everybody. “So, how was work
Saturday night, Crissy?”

“What work?” Alright, I realize I shouldn’t
be tempting fate with Amanda like this after I was so worried about
what happened in class, but I can’t help it. I’m only human. Not
just human, but a woman scorned at that.

“Amanda said you worked Saturday night so
you couldn’t come to our epic baking night. We made cake pops!”
Mars rummages around in her backpack. “Here! I saved you one.” It
looks like every textbook Mars owns has been laying on top of it at
some point, but I take the crumbled cake pop anyway. It’s just nice
to be remembered.

“Thanks, girl, but I don’t work Saturday
nights.”

“Then your schedule must have changed
because I know you mentioned working all night.”

“The store closes at five. Can’t work that
late.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” There it is.
Amanda’s bad side. I knew I pushed her too much already today.

“I’m just sayin’. Can’t work at a store that
isn’t open. Maybe you misheard me?” I don’t know why I bother
trying, Amanda didn’t even bother to ask and we both know it.

“Yeah. You probably misspoke.”

“Oh, Amanda’s mad. What’d Crissy say now?”
That was Liz. Liz and I had never really clicked. We only called
each other friends because we were friends with everyone else and
it made things easier. I don’t dislike Liz; we just weren’t meant
to be friends. She’s really loud, even louder than Amanda, but loud
in an awkward way. She is the kind of person who’d yell something
inappropriate in a public place for the sole purpose of making
people angry or uncomfortable. Her whole personality is like that.
It’s like she is physically incapable of toning it down. I work
hard never to be alone with her in public. Some people are loud
like Amanda, and some people have loud personalities. These people
with loud personalities don’t even need to open their mouths to be
obnoxious. That’s Liz. At least she doesn’t sit next to me.

“Oh, you know Crissy.” Amanda rolls her
eyes. I’m still not sure what I did that could be considered
“wrong” by a sane jury, or even a jury made up of those not
currently in high school.

“I thought you guys were kidding. Are you
actually fighting?” I love Mars for being so oblivious, especially
now.

“Yeah, I was just joking around, Amanda.
Weren’t you?” Amanda nods and turns to talk to Liz so I can’t see
her. Probably talking about me. I still won the round, although I
can’t help but worry about how I’ll be paying for it later.

“Hey, what’s lunch?” Prudence comes flying
to the table and the dynamic is reset for now. Prudence, usually
“Pru” , always looks flustered and is always running. She’s a
little flighty too, not like Mars. She’s just flighty in a
forgetful way. Pru is the musician of the group and is always
carrying around piles of disorganized sheet music and composition
paper. She is the daughter of two hippies gone corporate, but some
of that 1960s love must have found its way into her genes. Her
parents put those Woodstock days behind them to become lawyers, and
are heartbroken their only child is going to be a musician. Ironic,
considering they’d named her after the Beatles’ song. They’d had
Pru when they were already old, and I guess the cynicism that comes
with time just built up so much they’ve forgotten their youth.
They’d passed on their rebellion to Pru, though. I’m sure their
younger selves would be proud.

“Well, lunch is this meal we have at the
middle of the day to keep from passing out at the end of it,”
Amanda snaps. She goes from happy to bitch in under sixty seconds.
I wish I could say that was a record.

“You know what I meant.” Pru rolls her eyes
and sits down with a paper bag.

Liz and Amanda ignore her and go back to
their conversation while Pru and Mars start talking about a test in
some class they have together. I’d heard an old wives’ tale about
how odd-numbered groups of friends never survive and I’m starting
to think that is the case with us. Who do I have when the group
pairs up?

I’m not really sure where the idea came from
(probably from an overwhelming desire not to be alone) but I say it
out loud before I have a chance to stop and think about it. “Hey,
since no one has said anything about weekend plans, how ‘bout you
all come over to my house for a movie night? I’m sure my parents
will supply pizza or something.”

“Yeah! I haven’t been to your house in
forever.” Mars looks genuinely excited.

Pru nods in agreement.

“I never turn down free pizza,” Liz smiles.
Even she seems happy, calmer even. I like Liz calm.

“Um…” Amanda seems caught off guard. “Yeah I
guess. I was tired of having everyone over to my house all the time
anyway.” She glares at me when no one else is looking. She must
have been planning to forget to invite me to something else. Beat
her to it. At least I wasn’t refusing to invite her. It hadn’t
really occurred to me that I could sink to her level, but it makes
me feel a little better about myself knowing I didn’t. It’s the
first not-bad day I’ve had in awhile.

To:
William Davis

Message:
Hey, Will. The fortune
cookies still aren’t speaking to me, or maybe they are and I’m just
not listening. I haven’t bothered with Chinese food since you
died.

But if the universe won’t talk to me, I’m
just going to have to start putting my fate in my own hands. You
were big into making your own fate, especially once you went to
‘“That Place”’. I was always the one who wanted the universe to
present me a solution. Funny how that ended up for us. But I guess
no amount of faith or effort can change the past.

Things seem to be working out a little,
though. Maybe if I just force myself to make my own fate things
will start working out? I mean, it obviously won’t bring you back,
but it could bring my friends back. You think? I don’t know. Have
you ever thought about how life works, and if we can just tell
ourselves something’s going to happen and then it will? Or maybe we
believe it’ll happen so badly we make it happen without realizing
it? Or maybe I need to be more realistic? I guess that’s what
‘“That Place”’ taught you, or tried to. I wonder if I tell myself
to stop hurting when I think about you it’ll stop? I’m not sure I
want that, though. I’m just glad I still feel something when I
think about you. Not feeling anything for someone, not even painful
feelings: that’s how you know you don’t care about someone anymore.
I never want to forget to care about you. Do you still care about
me wherever you are? Well, I hope you do.