My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters (9 page)

"Come on, let's go make you look great for an evening of foreign cinema."

"Mom. I don't think I even like foreign cinema. It's all so drab and depressing. People drink way too much. I don't think it sets a good example for an impressionable young woman like myself."

"Nonsense." She led me upstairs into her bathroom, with its specially installed good lighting. "Tyler likes foreign cinema, so you can like it. How hard is that?"

That
sounded so dishonest, or fake, or something. I kind of cringed because it reminded me about pretending to like the Raconteurs' music just because Tyler did. But that really wasn't the same, was it?

"Tyler might just like Megan."

"Megan! She's a fine girl, but nothing like you, honey." Mom ran a brush through my hair. "You look like Rapunzel."

"So lock me away in a tower. Really, I'm fine with that at this point." I could make friends with some big-beaked birds, take up a hobby like rock-wall etching, and die a virgin. Unless some blind woodsman found me first.

"Megan doesn't have your sense of humor."

"Yup. I've got a good personality. Hear that, boys? Jory has a good personality." I put my hand to my ear. "My God, I can hear them lining up already. Mom, you're a miracle worker."

Mom whacked my butt with her brush. "What I wouldn't give for your tight little fanny."

"Mom! Your butt's smaller than mine."

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "What are you going to wear?"

"Well, since it's about a million degrees outside, shorts and a tank top and my flowered flip-flops."

"Why don't you go for a more intriguing, intellectual look? What about your beret?"

"Been there, done that." Did
all
of her ideas have to suck so much?

Forty-five minutes later, Mom had layered so much makeup on my face that I'd have to wait and leave the house under the cover of darkness or else I'd frighten small dogs. She even made me try on a pair of her capris with some high heels but relented after I told her I'd be able to make some good cash turning tricks on Fourth Street after the movie. Maybe I'd found my career path after all, I joked. Fifty bucks a trick, a hundred for the all-night special. Finn's comment about working as a hooker out at Mustang Ranch clinched it. Mom even redid my eye makeup.

"Goodbye, Dragon Lady Eyes," I said. "I'll see you again when I get my job at a house of ill-repute." I scrunched my lips up and made kissing noises at the mirror.

I heard Bugsy's peppy little honk in the driveway.

Mom kissed my forehead. "Have fun, darling."

"Remember, I get a percentage," Finn called.

"Shut up, Finn!" Mom and I yelled at the same time.

Tyler jumped out and flipped the front seat forward so I could climb into the back. Did that mean anything? His legs weren't much longer than mine; he'd be a flats-only boyfriend. Just in case, I'd been buying flats exclusively for the last year.

"I tried calling you all afternoon," Megan said.

"Really? Maybe Finn—" I stopped before I told an actual lie

"Didn't you get my e-mail?"

"I've been really busy, what with work and all."

"Ah, but you haven't had the Copy Job from Hades." Tyler put his hand on Megan's shoulder. What did
that
mean?

"Dante's frozen Hades, that is." Megan and Tyler laughed.

"No, but I have to carry pies past drunk gamblers at seven in the morning," I said. "This one drunk guy at the Gold Dust West always follows me around and tells me the same stupid joke every single time."

"Sounds like Funnyman Richards."

Megan looked at Tyler and smiled. "Nonfunny, you mean."

I gave up, leaned my head far back, and watched the streetlamps above me. Tyler and Megan didn't even notice my silence.
What about that guy who stole all that money from his boss? Daniel thinks he's totally guilty. So-and-So is going to Aruba, but her husband is staying home. Ooh, scandal! Looks like someone has commitment issues.

Hey, I thought of piping in, I delivered an extra chocolate cream pie to the Sands on Thursday. Not even one person ordered flowers on Friday. Weird, huh? Katie booked a big last-minute wedding on July 2. The guy at the Jewel Café who said he wanted to see me again wasn't even there, but the cat rubbed my ankles like he was in love. I'm thinking a cat would make a great boyfriend. Good listener; likes to cuddle; enjoys beauty sleep; great hair. Plus, I've always been into stripes.

Nope, silence was best.

Megan dropped me off first so I could save seats. Tyler went to keep her "safe" in the parking garage. Mental note: see if she's still wearing all that lip-gloss when they get back. Violin music played as I looked up the steps. I hated looking so desperate, wretched, and beyond hope, walking into a movie theater alone on a Saturday night.

I waited down by the bridge for a minute but worried that Megan would get mad if we had to sit in the front row or all spread out among the geezer film geeks. I shook my hair and climbed up the steps. Gideon, the guy from the Jewel Café, stood near the door, playing his violin behind a sign that said: "Can young people really learn in a big yellow-tiled bathroom? Please donate to remodel the halls of Reno High School."

Several coins sparkled against the red velvet inside his violin case. Even a few dollar bills lay on top. I watched an older guy drop a dollar into the case. "They've had the same yellow tile on those walls for over forty years," he said. "Great idea, young man."

Gideon nodded in thanks, then noticed me and raised his eyebrows. I waved real quick and hurried into the theater, suddenly feeling hot all over. I stopped to buy a jumbo Diet Coke.

I sat by myself in the semidark theater for several minutes, holding the Diet Coke cup to my warm cheeks. I took a couple of deep breaths like Hannah always does, but they made me feel more lightheaded. Finally, Megan and Tyler walked down the aisle, arguing.

"That guy goes to school with us now?" Tyler asked.

"He transferred with like two weeks of school left." Megan set her soda in the drink holder. One soda. Two straws. It was too dark to check her lips. "Actually got
kicked out
of McQueen."

"No surprise there. I've heard rumors he has a juvie record." Tyler sat next to me. "What a freak."

"Didn't you date somebody from McQueen once?" I asked, eager to get Tyler off the topic of trashing Gideon. Plus, I wanted to see if Megan got jealous when I mentioned Tyler's other conquests.

"What? Where did you hear that?" he asked.

"Your prom date?" I reminded him.

He laughed, sounding strangely relieved. "Oh, her. It was just a dance."

Just a dance, just a movie. Maybe he and Megan weren't an item after all.

None of the previews looked good—just another crop of sad stories about lonely people with depressing lives. Fifteen minutes into the movie I still had no idea what was going on. All the characters looked the same, plus I kept missing the subtitles because I was too busy watching Tyler feed popcorn to Megan. I'd sucked down my soda so fast that I had to pee like crazy. Maybe Gideon was still outside. Maybe he'd suggest we run away with the Reno High remodeling fund; we'd go to Europe, live like gypsies, and eat crusty bread and cheese near old fountains and big rosebushes.

I carefully stepped over Tyler's and Megan's feet.

Megan shrugged.

"Bathroom," I whispered.

She nodded while looking past me at the screen. Would they even notice if I never came back? Tyler reached over and plunked another kernel of popcorn into her mouth. I hurried up the aisle and ran to the bathroom. Afterward, I wandered out to the concession area and watched a couple of bicycle cops talk to Gideon. Tyler had muttered something about "loitering laws" right as the movie started. So much for my European escapade. I bought a pack of Red Vines, but they only reminded me of the time Hannah, Megan, and I conducted a Red Vines versus Twizzlers survey at 7-Eleven after a football game last year (77 percent of cute guys prefer Red Vines).

Before heading back into the theater, I watched the cops walk Gideon down the steps. Did he actually get arrested? Maybe he did have a humongous criminal record like Tyler hinted.

Bam!

I banged into a guy carrying a jumbo tub of popcorn.

"Watch it!" he yelled.

Popcorn cascaded over the top of my head and into my tank top. I leaned over to pick up the bag of M&Ms the guy had dropped. I'm such a klutz!

"I am so sorry." I handed the guy the bag. Familiar shoes. Red-striped Adidas sneakers. Filthy laces.

"Oh, it's you." Tom kind of shook his head and relaxed his hands. "Jory? Right?"

"Hi—" I watched his face turn from pink to red.

"Tom."

"I knew that."

He pushed a piece of popcorn off my shoulder. "So I suppose you're here on some hot date?"

"Not hardly," I said. "For some stupid reason I joined the community cinema club."

"So you like to read your movies?" Tom picked a piece of popcorn out of my hair and ate it. Was that gross? Super weird? He found three more pieces.
Munch. Munch. Munch.

"Not really. I'm trying to discover my—you know, something I like to do this summer, and I like movies, so I thought—" Stop babbling. "The movie is really depressing." The movie actually might have been a comedy. People were laughing. Watching Tyler and Megan, however, was totally depressing.

"I'm not into my movie either." His freckled complexion reminded me of Katie's orange poppy seed cake. "I promised my little sister I'd take her to this girlie piece of crap for her birthday." He looked at the empty popcorn container. "I guess I'd better get a refill on this."

I fumbled for my wallet. "It's my fault. Let me pay for it."

"Naw, you don't have to pay for refills." Tom bounced his toes up and down, crushing popcorn into the rainbow squiggles on the carpet, looking bored.

"I guess I'd better get back," I said. "Or else I'll never figure out what's happening."

"Sure. Yeah. See you around." Tom nodded at me.

I wanted to know if he watched me walk away, but I didn't want to turn around; he was seeing my best side, after all. He still hadn't asked for my phone number. José had e-mailed Hannah a few times, which gave her double-date fantasies. Maybe I should inform Hannah that she needed a better-looking friend.

Hannah drove slowly, peering at the big old houses set back from the street to find some Theta Pi Phi Omicron Omega Zeta Nu Sigma Epsilon Gamma Delta Mega Mojo frat house at UNR. One of the guys from Hannah's church youth group had invited her, and Alex from Church had kind of raised his eyebrows. Maybe that meant he might show up. Or maybe he disapproved of frat parties. Could he possibly be jealous? I relished the opportunity to analyze Hannah's love life because fair is fair, right? She'd have to at least
pretend
to be interested in my situation, beyond our ongoing why-is-Megan-avoiding-us discussion.

After a whole five minutes of analyzing my Tyler-Megan dilemma, Hannah decided that I needed to find more mature men—or at least guys who didn't go to our school.

"Meggie's the one always saying that girls mature faster than boys," Hannah said.

"So?"

"So dating a twenty-three-year-old is like dating a seventeen-year-old, so if she
is
in fact dating Tyler and not simply belonging to the film club with him, she's really dating an eleven-year-old." Hannah grinned.

After I wiped up the Diet Coke I'd sprayed all over my shirt, I agreed.

College guys would appreciate my inner beauty and my love of—well, I hadn't figured that part out yet. I know: my love of mature college guys. People like talking about themselves, right?

We finally found a house with funny Greek letters that was all lit up like it was Christmas. People hung out on the front porch, smoking and drinking, while music blared from supersized speakers. Hannah and I walked up the path to the front door. I wore jeans with my Pillsbury Doughboy T-shirt and my flower flip-flops; I didn't want to look like I was trying too hard, because frankly I'd given up, but Hannah had put up with twelve months, twelve days, and fourteen hours of Tyler Talk, so I figured I could help her with Alex from Church. Hannah looked adorable in a tight tank top tucked into a jean skirt she'd sewn herself—it had a zillion little pockets—and her sparkly ballet flats. She shook her short hair.

"Can you still see the glitter?" she asked. "Or is it too dark? Is there
too much
glitter?"

"Quit worrying about your hair."

Hannah gave her hair one last shake, ran her tongue across her recently flossed (in the car!) teeth, and said, "Let's go."

A guy standing by the door handed us each a jumbo plastic cup in exchange for five bucks. No one else seemed to notice us as we squeezed through the crowd toward the kitchen.

"We need something to drink to make us look older," Hannah said. "Do you think they have sodas and stuff? Since I'm driving and all?"

"I think they have beer and other illicit items." I looked into a dark room with a lava lamp where people were passing around a joint. A guy gave me a blank stare and then shut the door right in my face. As we stepped into the kitchen, someone bumped into me and sloshed beer on my shoulder; he hadn't even noticed me because he was too busy leering at Hannah.

"Oh, gross. Did you see that guy?" Hannah frowned in the way that makes her button nose squinch up even cuter. I'd never attempt such a maneuver; I try to keep my face pleasant and neutral at all times.

"He looked like he was forty!" By that she meant twenty-five.

"Do you see anyone from your church?" I looked around at the guys—some with actual facial hair—talking to girls who looked like they could buy their own beer. I overheard one group arguing about environmental policy. Another girl waved a cigarette around and talked real loud about the Paris subway.

I didn't see anyone I knew.

Hannah surprised me by walking over to the keg and having the guy fill her cup with beer. I did the same. Not that I actually liked beer, but I felt so young and stupid, standing there not knowing anyone. We screamed
high school.
I thought I recognized a guy who had been a senior at Reno when I was a freshman, but he was latched on to some girl. A couple of guys attached this big bottle to a tube and one guy drank it all as the others yelled, "Chug! Chug! Chug!"