Dark Blue: Color Me Lonely with Bonus Content (15 page)

“I’m going to find Edgar and go home,” I tell Amy. “You need a ride?”

“You’re going home?” she says with surprise. “But the party just began.”

I look at her incredulously. “You actually want to stay here? After all that?”

She shrugs. “Sure, why not?”

I just shake my head. “Yeah, well, whatever. Have a good time.”

Then she pauses and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Thanks, Kara.”

I attempt to smile at her. “Sure, anytime.” Then thinking better of it, I add, “But you’d probably feel better if you laid off that crud, Amy. It can’t be good for you.”

She just laughs. “Hard to say. Maybe it is. Maybe it’s not.”

On my way to find Edgar, I hope that he won’t be too disappointed to leave early. But if he is, I will simply offer to walk home by myself. No big deal, since it’s only a few blocks anyway.

“Kara?”

I stop to see Jordan looking at me like she wants to say something. “Huh?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a minute, Kara.”

I shrug. “Sure, whatever.”

Then she motions for me to follow her over to a dimly lit corner. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to score some kind of a drug deal. But like her faithful old shadow, following her beck and call, I obediently go.

Suddenly it occurs to me that this could turn into something even more shocking than a drug deal. Maybe she overheard Betsy laying into me and feels sorry. And maybe she wants to apologize for all that’s gone on this fall. I wonder if she wants to beg me to come back into her life. To plead with me to return to being her best friend, just like before.

Even so, I remind myself, I don’t want to make it too easy for her. And after everything that’s gone on just now, that whole crazy
scene in the restroom, I suppose my patience has worn a little thin tonight.

“Well, I know it’s probably been kind of hard on you lately since we’re not, uh, well, we’re not such good friends anymore.”

“Not such good friends?”
I look at her as if she’s lost her marbles. “Jordan, if you haven’t noticed, we’re not friends at all. What exactly are you trying to say here?”

“Well, okay, I guess we’re not really friends anymore. But we used to be.”

I laugh. “I’m surprised you’d admit that in public.” Then I look around. “Although I guess no one else can hear this, can they?”

“And that’s for your own good, Kara. I only asked to talk to you to let you know that I’m concerned about you.”

“You’re concerned about me?” I feel my voice get a little louder now, but I don’t think I care.

“Yes, you’re hanging with some questionable people and—”

“Questionable people?”

“Yes. Like Amy Weatherspoon, for instance. Everyone knows that girl is nothing but trouble.”

“Hey, Amy may have her problems, but at least she’s a good friend. Not like some people I used to know.”

Now Jordan scowls. “I don’t know why I’m even wasting my time trying to talk to you, Kara.”

“I don’t know either, Jordan. And I’m sure your friends won’t like it. Betsy already told me what you think of me.” I put my hands on my hips now and look her straight in the eyes. “Not that I care.”

“Well, fine, Kara. Go ahead and make a mess of your life and act like a total fool. What do I care anyway?”

I shake my head now. “Oh, you do care, Jordan. Because I used to be your best friend and I have the power to make you look bad.”
She frowns now, but says nothing.

“Not that I’d trouble myself to do that,” I say quickly. “Because I think your new friends are already doing a great job of it themselves.” Then I turn and walk away. It helps that I’m wearing these tall, black boots. It’s like they’re putting this authority into my step. But just the same, I can feel hot tears burning in my eyes. And I want to hurry up and find Edgar before they actually spill out and make black streaks down my cheeks like I just witnessed with Amy.

Edgar is no more eager to stay than I am. But I’m not sure whether to be disappointed or relieved. I was sort of hoping that I could just walk home by myself. I don’t really want to have to explain this whole thing to anyone right now. Of course, it does occur to me that I’ll probably have to explain it to Mom.

“You want to go get some dessert or something?” he asks after we’re back in the long, black Caddie.

I slump down into the seat and wish I could simply vanish into the musty upholstery.

“You okay, Kara?”

I just shrug.

“You want to talk about it?”

I turn and look at him. And something about that sweet yet intense expression in his eyes lures me in.

I nod.

He puts the car into gear and heads toward town.

Now I’m thinking that perhaps someone like Edgar can really understand how it feels to be spurned and rejected and betrayed by an ex-best friend. Or not. Come to think of it, Edgar doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who’s had a whole lot of experience with best friends or even friends in general.

Well, it just stands to reason that I’d come to something like this before too long. And all in one night too. First I get barfed on by the school bad girl, and then I get dissed by the school popular girl. And now I am ready to spill my guts to the school nerd. It just figures.

W
E GO TO A SLEEPY LITTLE COFFEE SHOP ON
M
AIN STREET, WHICH IS
just as well since I know it’s unlikely we’ll see any kids from school here. This is the kind of place where old people hang out and eat coconut cream pie and glazed donuts as they read the newspaper or talk about the weather or politics or whatever it is that old people talk about these days.

We sit at a table by the window and order coffee, which tastes metallic and bitter. Even when I doctor it up with sugar and cream, it’s still pretty disgusting.

“I don’t really like coffee,” I confess.

He laughs. “Well, even though I drink coffee, I have to admit this is some pretty nasty stuff.”

And so we both order milkshakes. I push my coffee to the side and watch as he takes small sips from his chipped cup. Who would’ve figured that Edgar Peebles was a coffee drinker?

“Sorry, I’m such a hopeless date,” I say in a quiet voice. Actually, I’m thankful that I managed to keep from crying on the way here.

“Hey, you’re fine. I’m probably the hopeless one.”

I shake my head. “No. You were great, Edgar. I was actually having fun. Until . . . ”

“Did something happen in the bathroom?” he asks. “I mean
when Amy got sick.”

“Sort of.” I pause as the middle-aged waitress sets our milkshakes on the table. They’re those old-fashioned kind where they bring the stainless steel container with extra in it. I haven’t had one of these in ages.

We both taste our shakes. Mine is chocolate and better than I expected. Edgar ordered peanut butter, of all things. I never even knew there was such a thing as peanut butter milkshakes.

“How is it?” I ask.

He grins. “Superb. Ya wanna taste?”

So I take a spoonful and am surprised to discover that it’s really good. “I’ll have to have one of those next time I’m here,” I tell him.

“So what happened?” asked Edgar.

I briefly described the barfing-in-the-bathroom scene, which simply made him laugh. “Betsy got what she deserved,” he said. But then he frowned. “Still, I don’t see why that should be so upsetting.”

“It wasn’t just that. I ran into Jordan on the way out and she attempted to give me this little lecture on how to act. Like she was afraid I was going to embarrass her or something. I actually thought that maybe she was going to apologize and that she maybe wanted to be friends again.” Okay, that last line does it to me. Now I am starting to cry. I stare down at my milkshake and feel like a total moron. “Sorry,” I manage to say as I wipe my nose with the stiff paper napkin.

“Hey, it’s okay. I understand. If it makes you feel any better I’ve been hurt a few times too.”

I look up at him. “Did you ever lose a best friend?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.” He frowns now and I’m not sure if he wants to go into any detail, but finally he does. “I was in sixth grade. Tommy Benson and I had been best friends since third grade. We
were both the smart kids in the class, you know, the eggheads, bookworms, nerds, geeks, whatever the fashionable term at the time was.”

I nod sadly. “Yeah, I’ve probably used those terms a few times myself. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Everyone does occasionally. But anyway, something happened that year, and Tommy’s mom said we couldn’t spend time together anymore.”

“That’s not fair. Parents shouldn’t be able to tell you who you can or can’t be friends with.”

“As it turned out, we ended up moving that summer anyway. But I was really sad to lose Tommy as my friend. I guess I haven’t really had anyone I’d call a best friend since then. Well, other than one.” He looks up and smiles now.

“Who’s that?”

“Jesus.”

I sigh. “Oh, yeah, I almost forgot about that.”

“But it’s really true. Jesus became my best friend and he’s better than any human friend. He never lets me down.”

I’m sure my expression is one of pretty strong skepticism.

“Hey, I’m not trying to preach at you, Kara. I’m just saying the truth. Jesus really is my best friend. Without him, I’m not sure what I’d do to survive. But it wouldn’t be pretty.”

I fiddle with my long spoon now. “Must be nice to grow up in a religious family,” I say absently.

But this just makes him laugh. “Are you kidding?”

I look up at him, feeling slightly confused. “No, not exactly. Why is that so funny?”

“My family isn’t exactly religious, Kara.”

“Oh. I just assumed . . . ”

“Well, you know what they say about
that
word.”

“So, your family doesn’t go to church then?”

“First of all, my family is mainly just my dad and me these days. And my dad never goes to church. Fact is, he’s an alcoholic.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Not really. He’s a recovering alcoholic. Last count he hadn’t had a drink in eight months and about seventeen days.”

“Good for him. But what happened to your mom?”

“My parents divorced several years ago.”

“Was it because of your dad’s drinking problem?”

“No, it was because they couldn’t be together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Now Edgar is looking at me, really studying me, as if he’s trying to determine what I’m made of.
Good question,
I’m thinking.
I wonder if he can figure it out.

“My parents couldn’t be together because my mom is serving time.”

“Serving time?”

“Yeah. In prison. She was convicted on drug charges and is doing ten to twelve years in the state pen.”

“Oh.” I wonder if my surprise shows in my face.

“Yeah, I don’t usually tell anyone. But I thought maybe you could handle it. You seem like a mature person to me.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, that’s the reason Tommy and I couldn’t be friends anymore. His mom was worried that my family was a bad influence. As it turns out, she was right.”

“But you’re not a bad influence.”

He shrugs. “That’s only because of God’s influence on me.”

“So your mom’s in prison and your dad’s an alcoholic. Go figure.”

“Recovering alcoholic,” he corrects. “In fact, he had an AA meeting tonight.”

“Well, good for him.”

Now the conversation comes to a lull and I feel the need to divulge some family secrets, just to balance things out.

“Well, my parents are divorced too,” I tell him.

He nods as if he already knew that.

“My mom is pretty ordinary. Just a hard-working single mom. I’m not sure why she hasn’t remarried. But she does date sometimes. We never hear from my dad. All I know about him is that he’s an artist. Well, sort of. He’s probably a starving artist, and for all I know, he could be an alcoholic or maybe he’s even into drugs. Who knows.”

“So that’s where you get your artistic talents?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t be so modest, Kara. You’re really good. I think you’re the best in the class.”

“Really?” I feel slightly stunned by this high praise. “Hey, thanks. I never would’ve thought that of myself.”

“Well, you’re really good. And I’m sure it won’t go to your head if I tell you.”

Suddenly I’m feeling a little better about tonight and my life in general. And I’m actually wondering why someone like Edgar Peebles wouldn’t make a perfectly acceptable best friend. I mean he’s kind and thoughtful and sensitive. I think he must have a pretty strong feminine side, for a guy anyway. Although I don’t really think he’s gay. Really, he’d probably make a great best friend.

Just the same, I think I’d prefer a female best friend. Probably because that’s what I’m comfortable with and I think life would just be simpler that way. Especially when it comes to sharing clothes or makeup or personal concerns that might be embarrassing to mention
around the opposite sex. I suppose I really need a girl to hang with.

But then who am I to be so picky when I hardly have a friend to call my own anyway? Wouldn’t having Edgar as a best friend be better than nothing? And he is kind of cute. So now I’m looking at this semi-geeky guy and thinking he might be just the ticket. And I wonder if he’d be interested, or how a person even brings something like this up. I mean do you just say, “Hey, wanna be best friends?” or what?

Then as we’re paying the bill and getting ready to leave, I remember how Edgar said he
already
has a best friend. I think those were his exact words too. He said he didn’t need a human best friend because he has
Jesus
for a best friend. It’s a little hard to wrap my mind around this slippery concept. I don’t actually think he’s saying that he doesn’t need anyone else in his life. But then when I think about it, Edgar has always seemed pretty self-sufficient. And I don’t recall ever seeing him hanging with friends. Of course, I’ve always assumed that had more to do with his image.

As Edgar drives me home, I am considering this whole Jesus-as-best-friend concept. To be perfectly honest, it sounds just a little too good to be true. And you know what they say about that. Besides, how exactly does one go about becoming best friends with someone who’s invisible and silent and fairly intimidating anyway? What good would it even do? I’m thinking I might as well talk to a wall or a lamppost. Really, I think I need a flesh-and-blood friend who I can laugh and cry with, someone who can listen and understand, someone who knows how to just hang together and have a good time without doing anything special. Now is that too much to ask?