Perfect Fifths (20 page)

"You were suicidal?"

"No. I just enjoyed writing suicidal lyrics on my book covers."

"Who doesn't at sixteen?"

''Exactly. But my suicidal song lyrics were misinterpreted by my chemistry teacher as a desperate cry for help. So I had to go down to guidance and talk to Brandi

about my feelings."

"Oh, man. Talking about feelings is the worst."

"The worst. But it turned out not to be a complete waste of time."

"How so?"

"Well... uh ... Oh, nevermind."

"What? You can't stop now. That's not fair."

"Do you remember bumping into me right outside her office?"

"Me? And you? Outside her office?"

"You don't remember that?"

"I'm trying to remember, Jessica."

"Oh, come on, Marcus. You remembered the titles of my editorials and our conversation in the Caddie.

You remembered a story about Marin that you didn't

experience firsthand. You can't remember this?"

"Honestly, Jessica, I can't say that I do."

[Cough. Sniffle.] "Oh, it's no big deal." [Sniffle.]

"I'm sorry, Jess—"

"Ha! Pay up, sucka!"

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"Did you just trick me into apologizing?"

"Maybe, maybe not."

"Here. Now you're one up."

"Thank you. And for the record, I probably wouldn't remember seeing you outside her office, either.

Only ... well... that's the first time I ever wrote about you in my journal."

"Really?"

"Really."

"And what did you have to say about me?"

"Hmmmm ... I think I said that crackheaded girls who didn't know any better thought you were sexy.

Then I went on for many, many paragraphs doth protesting too much about how I just didn't understand your appeal."

"Doth protesting too much. That's classic. I do believe that sums up a lot."

"About what?"

"About... oh, wait, hold that thought. My phone is vibrating again. It's Natty again. Only this time he sent—Dude."

"What?"

"He sent a picture. Do you want to see it?"

[Pause.]

"Those are two of the biggest, fakest, roundest tits I've ever seen. Where was this picture taken?"

"New Jersey Transit."

"Oh, nice. And did you see the message? 'Venn Diagram: Ho/Hot.' And look, he included an adorable little emoticon rendering of big, fake, round tits just in case we didn't get the joke. Such clever use of parentheses as a visual aid. No wonder he's a Rhodes Scholar."

"You won't get another dollar out of me, Jessica. I'm not making any apologies for his behavior."

"Well, you told me he was an immature dick. It turns out he's sexist, too!"

"Sometimes, yes. He is. But that has nothing to do with this picture. He sent it because he's looking out for me."

"Because he knows how much you appreciate a ginormous silicone rack?"

"No. He's trying to embarrass me by association. He sent that picture to protect me."

"Protect you? From what?"

"Not what. Who."

"Who?"

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"From you."

"Me.? Why me? And how does he even know you're with me?"

[Throat clearing.] "Er, he knows because I told him."

"When?"

"Right after you ran me over but before you rescued me."

"You called him?"

"I ... told him. I needed to tell someone about it, to confirm that it had actually happened. Why, you didn't tell anyone? Didn't you say you talked to Hope earlier? You didn't say anything to her?"

"Uh, no. Actually, I didn't. But like I said, Marcus, I'm really, really distracted today. My brain is going in too many different directions."

"Oh, sure, I can see how you could forget to mention seeing me for the first time in three years. I can see how that would slip your mind."

[Pause.]

"So, Natty doesn't approve of me, huh?"

"Not you as a person, just you as a ... concept. He was there for everything that happened. And everything that happened afterward. [Throat clearing.] He's really the best friend I've ever had."

"Better than ... uh ... oh ... ?"

"I assume that by 'uh ... oh1 ... you mean Len?"

"I was trying to remember who else you were friends with."

"There haven't been too many. There was Hope's brother, of course."

"Right."

"After Heath died, my options were limited. Len was the first one in our class who was willing to give me a chance, to get to know me. I'll never forget that. And he was a good friend for a while ... until..."

"Until... uh ..."

"Let's put it this way. It's hard to be friends with someone when ..."

"You've got [cough] competing interests?"

"That's one way of putting it."

[Pause.]

"Well. Uh. I never thought you and Natty would get so tight. I had my doubts about your lasting a semester in the same room."

"What about you and Manda?"

[Cough. Cough. Cough.] "What about me and Manda? What do you know about me and Manda?"

"Nothing. Just that you were improbable roommates for that year in Brooklyn."

"We were hardly friends. Even on our best days, she was more like an amusing adversary than a friend.

We lost touch. I haven't seen her since Sara and Scotty's

wedding back in 2008. Anyway, I have no idea what she's up to or where she is, and I don't really care.

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So, no. Not friends. Not then. And not now. And really, not ever and—Why are you laughing?"

"No reason."

"Seriously. Why are you laughing?"

"You won't think it's funny."

"Try me."

"Oh, Jessica. You're doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Doth protesting too much."

"I am not!"

"You are."

"Am not... Stop laughing!"

"I'm laughing because the more you say that, the more you're doing it."

"Why would I doth protest too much about Manda? There's nothing to protest."

"I don't know why you are doth protesting. I only know that you are."

n ne

(arrested development)

Do you hear that, Jessica?"

"Christ! That's my phone again. Where is it?"

"Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing? Is that? Could it be?"

"Dammit, where is my phone? I can never find it when I need it."

"Is that Barry Man—"

"Yes! It's Barry Manilow, okay? I have a Barry Manilow ring tone. I keep mashing the wrong buttons on this damn thing today. I must have accidentally taken my phone off vibrate when I checked the message from Bethany. Get over—Oh! Here it is. Oh ... It's from Hope. She sent a picture of... OMIGOD! ACK!" [Laughter.]

"What's so funny?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Let me see."

"I'm warning you, it's kind of... uh ..."

[Laughter.] "Donkey porn?"

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"It's an inside joke!"

"And you had the nerve to accuse my friend of being a pervert?"

"I accused him of being a sexist, immature dick. Not the same thing."

[Pause.]

"What if I make an apology for obnoxious behavior that legitimately deserves an apology? Will I still owe you a dollar?"

"All such exemptions will be made on a case-by-case basis. Why? To whom do you owe an apology?"

"Hope."

"Hope? For what?"

"I wasn't being fair to her earlier. I shouldn't have been so eager to mention that she dropped out of school when she's kicking the art world's ass right now. I'm happy for her new relationship, too. But to give this apology its due respect, I will confess that, yes, it did rub me the wrong way when you assumed Hope was the one so

altruistically toiling for disaffected youth. Hope deserves better from me. Especially when she has so bravely faced her great fear of donkeys just to make me laugh. So, Hope, I'm sorry I was an undermining bitch. It was worth losing a dollar to apologize out loud."

"Keep your money."

"You sure?"

"I'm positive."

[Pause.]

"You could call her."

"I could, but..."

"You don't want to talk to her in front of me, do you?"

"What?"

"You avoided your sister, you avoided Hope ..."

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't want anyone to know that you're here with me."

"Woooow! Where did that come from? You're—"

"Presumptuous. Who am I to jump to such conclusions about you? Especially when I haven't spoken to you in three years? Who am I to do that?"

"Actually, I was going to accuse you of being stuck in arrested development."

"Stunted at seventeen."

"Which means you, Marcus Flutie, are still the Poet/Addict Man-whore. And I, Jessica Darling, am still the Cynical Girl Who Has It All and Yet Has Nothing at All. And that makes Hope the Idealized Best Friend Who Isn't Around Anymore and Would Never Understand
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My Relationship with Marcus Flutie."

"Is that your subtle way of telling me I'm wrong?"

"Right."

"Then why not call her back, if not to apologize, then at least to thank her for the donkey porn?"

"I figure I've got limited time to talk to you, and you know, I live with her, so ..."

"You can talk to her anytime, but who knows when you'll ever see me again. This is a one-time-only opportunity. It's now or never again."

[Cough.] "Uh, right."

"May I ask you a serious question, then, since our time together is limited?"

[Pause.]

"Jessica?"

"Uh ... yeah... uh ... okay. Sure. Shoot."

[Dramatic pause.]

"Why is Barry Manilow your ring tone?"

"Ha! That's your big question?"

"Yup, that's it."

"Whew. I was worried there."

"Obviously. But why?"

"I was just worried that you'd ask something I wouldn't be capable of answering."

"Such as?"

"Marcus, we have done a commendable job at keeping this conversation within a certain comfort zone.

Let's not ruin it by trying to ..."

"To what? What do you think I'm trying to do?"

"I don't think you're trying to do anything ... yet. Which is why this conversation has been so pleasant.

But with the time ticking ... What time is it any—huh. That's strange."

"What?"

"My watch stopped."

"The battery?"

"I don't know. I just got this watch yesterday from my mom for my—I mean, it's brand-new."

"Do you have to wind it?"

"Wind it? I have no idea. Ask me to churn butter or wire a telegram while you're at it. Seriously, who wears watches anymore, anyway? ... Hey, you're wearing a

watch. What time do you have?"

[Throat clearing.] "It doesn't."

"What do you mean, it doesn't?"

"This watch doesn't tell time."

"It's broken?"

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"No, it's ... It's not a watch that tells time. It doesn't have hands or numbers."

"What? Let me see. This watch doesn't have any hands. Or numbers."

"I told you."

"Well, duh, Marcus. Duh."

"I know. Duh."

"I mean, really. Duh. What is this? Some pretentious statement about the illusory nature of time? How it's just an artificial construct created by humankind to make

sense of the natural world? Duuuuuuh."

I'm not disagreeing with you. It was a gift."

"That's the biggest dumbass gift ever."

"Again, I completely agree."

"Then why do you wear it?!"

"Why do you have a Barry Manilow ring tone?"

[Long pause.]

"How about this, Jessica? You tell me the story of the ring tone, and I'll tell you the story of the dumbass watch. Then we'll be even."

"No, I'll still be ahead by a buck."

"Ah, but the conversation isn't over yet."

"But time is ticking. Or it would be if you wore a functional watch."

"Need I remind you that your watch isn't working, either? This isn't merely a case of arrested development, Jessica. We have officially stopped the arrow of time."

[Pause.]

"Why are you looking at me like that, Jessica?"

"Like what?"

"Like you want to stab me with a spoon. Or beat me with your discarded tea bag."

"Why do you think I'm looking at you like that?"

"I don't know."

"Well, then I don't know, either."

ten

(yes)

''Okay. I guess I'll start."

"And with such enthusiasm, too."

"Woo-hoo."

"So much better, Jessica."

'The story is only half as long as it would normally be because you already know the first part."

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"Which part?"

"The part about you tracking down the absurdly awesome, one-of-a-kind, not-for-sale decoupage Barry Manilow toilet seat cover I once coveted at an outdoor art festival and giving it to me as a get-back-in-my-good-graces gesture after vanishing in the desert for two years."

"Jessica. I did not vanish. You knew where I was. I sent—"

"The postcards. The crazy-making one-word postcards. I... WISH ... OUR ... LOVE ... WAS ...

RIGHT ... NOW ... AND ..."

"And I gave you the toilet seat cover not as a reconciliatory gesture but because it was Christmastime and I had always regretted not buying it for you when we first saw it."

"You see it your way, I see it mine. And this is my version of the story. You can tell your Rashomonic version another time."

"Rashomon. Oh, man, you really are a—"

"A highbrownnoser."

"Ha! That's exactly what you are. And quite a wordsmith as well."

"Thanks, I think. So, how did you find the one-of-a-kind not-for-sale decoupage Barry Manilow toilet seat cover?"