Chapter five

5.


I was just putting the finishing touches on my math assignment when I heard the phone ring downstairs. Assuming it was for one of my parents, I shut my notebook and pondered whether I should play a computer game, read a book, or maybe even finish the rest of my homework. That was when I heard my mom's voice, bellowing up the staircase.
“Shane! Telephone for you!”
My interest sparked. It was probably R, but since he didn't usually call for trivial things, I guessed he might want to come over, or maybe invite me to do something with Bryn and him. And I wanted to apologize for being rude to him earlier. I exited my room, ran down the steps halfway to where Mom was holding the phone out to me, and scurried back to the privacy of my room.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Shane.”
It wasn't R's voice. In fact, it was a voice I might not have recognized except that I had heard it talking to me for several hours the day before.
“James?”
“Don't sound so surprised! Don't people ever call you?”
If I was a girl, I would have blushed. “Yes, but usually only... never mind. It's just, you've never called me before.”
“There's a first for everything, right? Well anyway, I was just wondering if you want to hang out sometime, like, tomorrow after school. Me and Kyle were going to do something, maybe if we invite Mike, too, we can play some two-on-two. You like basketball, right?”
“Uhhhh... yeah.” I was stunned. There was a first for everything, all right, but I hadn't encountered too many of those firsts. Call me an idiot, but I was amazed that those guys would want to hang out with me.
“Awesome. So can you make it? My place after school tomorrow?”
“Oh man, I just remembered. I have, well, I have... an appointment after school tomorrow.”
“Appointment? You mean like the doctor?”
“Not exactly.” I sighed, and dished the whole story. He was surprisingly sympathetic.
“Too bad. Well maybe we can postpone until this weekend. You up for Saturday?”
“Sure!”
“Okay then, my place tomorrow, how about 10:00?”
“All right. Oh wait, I don't know where you live.”
He gave a soft laugh. “Right. 403 Harrison Avenue. Google it. See you tomorrow, then.”
“Okay. Bye.”
I hung up the phone, astounded once again. Life sure was throwing me a bunch of curves those days. One good, then one bad, one right after another. It was confusing, like being on a roller coaster that I didn't remember getting on, and I didn't know where it would lead me. But I decided to just be thankful for the moment. I went downstairs and put the phone back into it's charger. Mom just happened to be there, and asked me,
“Who was that? I didn't recognize the voice.” She said, making her voice as casual as possible. I knew her well enough to see it, but my mood had improved, so I just smiled and said,
“It was James. You know, the guy I told you about, from the track team. We're getting together on Saturday with some other guys. That's okay, right?”
“Oh! Yes! Of course, I'll even drive you if you need me to!” Her face was bright and happier.
She was more glad that I was getting together with the guys than I was! But I thought she might be. My mother was a strange person, unlike anyone else I knew. But she was my mom, and I always loved her. Most of us never really stop loving our parents, unless we're in some kind of situation sadder than what I like to think about.
I thought about my dad. He had a sad childhood. Abandoned at birth, put in a foster home, but when he was 13 his birth parents came back for him. His dad was an alcoholic who had just received bail. His mother rarely spoke to him, and if it was, it was in shouts or curse words. I shuddered. My dad was one of the best, kindest people I knew. He didn't raise he voice to me very often. He never drunk, not even a glass of wine or two. He was gentle with my mom. In that instant, I became so thankful of my parents. I had never taken the time to stop and actually think about them before. Lots of people take happy homes and loving parents for granted. I won't, I thought, Never again.
I dreamed that I was in a skateboard park that night. I didn't have a skateboard, it was just me, and I was wearing a huge pair of farm boots. They probably would have fit my dad, but not me. People were skating all around the park, but they never even noticed me. I was wearing a suit and a tie at first, but then I looked down and all of a sudden I was in my pajamas. I looked up again, to see one particularly big skater coming right my was, fast- and he wasn't slowing down or stopping. Then several other people joined behind him. I only got to see their faces – and then I woke up. Still half between dream and reality, I tossed and turned. Their faces were still in my head.
Mr. Green. R. James, and Mike, possibly Kyle. I think Sophia was on one, and maybe even my mom. I shivered and pulled my covers tighter. It had been a weird dream, just like many, but it disconcerted me. Soon enough, though, I fell back asleep, and by morning, I had forgotten all about it.
R managed to avoid me mostly throughout the day, but when my last class was halfway finished and I hadn't been able to apologize to him yet, I promised myself I would catch him before he went home. When the final bell rang, I didn't even go to my locker, I went to his. I got there first, and after waiting for a few minutes, he showed up.
“Shane.”
“R. I want to-”
“What are you doing at my locker? ...Still holding your books.”
“Oh, yeah, I came here first so I could be sure to talk to you. Sorry for how I was yesterday after the principals office, I was acting kind of jerky and I took it out on you, but it wasn't your fault.”
I felt kind of awkward with all the people around us, especially since I was a guy and I felt strange apologizing to my best friend in the first place, but I knew that I had to do it.
“'S'okay. No sweat. I might have acted the same if it was me going to the office. So, wait, you start with the counselor lady today?”
“Yeah. It's a lady? Dang it.”
“Well, I think it's a lady. Actually, I think they might have two, a man and a women. Maybe they only let the guy counsel guys.” He looked sympathetic. “Good luck, dude.”
“Thanks.” He gave me an encouraging slap on the back, and I turned around and walked to my locker. I had no idea what to expect of the counseling thing, but I was bound and determined to keep an open mind. It might not be that bad, after all.
I was wrong. It was worse. I knew that the counselor I was talking to was a psychologist, but for some reason, I had just expected to have to answer lots of basics about myself, like favorite food, favorite color, and so on. But it wasn't like that at all.
First, when I entered the office (which was more like a hallway; I guessed it was just for people to wait in) the lady at the desk asked me if I was there to see Ms. Keith or Mr. Quirk. Now, I really wanted to ask for Ms. Keith right then, because why would I want a shrink named QUIRK? But I just said that I hadn't been told, so she sent me into the man's office. It was a larger room, still pretty small, though, with some pictures of scenery and animals on the wall. A couch, like I had expected, but also two easy chairs facing the desk where a tall, sturdy-looking man sat, going through a file. That must be Mr. Quirk. I cleared my throat, and he looked up. He squinted a little at first, but then picked up a pair of glasses from the desk, and set them on his nose.
“Ah! And your name is?”
“Shane Baskett, sir. You're Mr. Quirk?” I decided I should ask just to make sure.
“Yes, that's me. Ah now, Mr. Baskett. The principal has told me a little bit of what he knows of you. But I just can't wait to get to know you better. Oh, do sit down!” He gestured at the two chairs, so I sat down in the right one, hoping there wasn't some personality test thing that was determined by what chair I sat in, like I had seen on TV. He picked up a different file from his desk and started flipping through it. A lot of the pages were blank. I guessed that was my file.
I was going to have a file.
Oh joy.
“Shane,” he started off, “tell me a bit about yourself.”
Really, what is one supposed to answer to that question? Still, I cleared my throat quietly and started talking.
“Um, well, I'm 15. Sophomore. I don't really know what you know about my already, so, um, well... okay, Mr. Quirk, I'll admit it. I have no idea what to say to you.”
His face softened a bit. He must hear that a lot.
“Anything! Tell me about your life, your family. Anything!”
That didn't help at all. Thanks, I though sarcastically.
“Okay... I have a mom. And a dad. No siblings. Um, my dad is an insurance agent and my mom sells flowers and plants from our home, it's an online business.”
He nodded, and was writing it all down. That made me more nervous than I already was.
“Tell me about your friends,” he prompted.
“My best friend is R. Well, his real name is Rupert, but usually only grownups call him that. He goes by R. I've known him since kindergarten, and we've been best friends since then, also.”
I told him a few more things about me, my family, but then he started asking more complicated questions.
“Do you know about the -something something some big word that I had never heard of before-? What about the president's policies? How do you feel about organized religion? Separation of church and state? You say your best friend is called R - why do you think he chose to be called that? You're called Shane, not S, correct?”
I wasn't exactly sure how to respond, so I looked at him quizzically for a minute. He didn't notice at first, but then he seemed to comprehend the manner of my look.
“Oh. You're right, our relationship isn't quite on that level yet. All right, we'll stick with the simple questions for now. But I'm sure when we've spent enough time together, you'll feel comfortable answering those.”
He kept on asking more questions about my life, wanting as many details as he could squeeze out of me.
Still, throughout the whole rest of the session (which was only an hour long, thankfully), all I could think of was those strange questions he had asked, but even more so, what he had said afterward. “Oh. You're right, our relationship isn't quite on that level yet. All right, we'll stick with the simple questions for now. But I'm sure when we've spent enough time together, you'll feel comfortable answering those.”
We said our goodbyes, and I made my way home, still thinking about how strange it had been. Mr. Quirk had his little quirks all right. He had this really annoying habit of clipping his nails whenever there was a lag in the conversation. By the end of the hour, I couldn't stand the sound anymore, and I could have sworn if he clipped even one more nail, I would have gone crazy.
I settled down after dinner to do my homework, and I noticed that my English teacher had slipped a note onto my returned quiz. No, it wasn't in her handwriting. Then what was it? I read it, struggling to make out the words written in a tiny but neat handwriting.
“Shane, please meet me tomorrow at the Snack Shack in town at noon. I want to talk to you. -Sophia.”
Had I really read it correctly? I went over it again. Yes, that was correct.
It was from Sophia. She wanted to meet me.
To talk to me.
Another curve in the roller coaster. If they kept up at the pace they were coming, I might throw up. But at the moment I was just confused, yet again. Girls made no sense, especially that particular one. And I couldn't meet her, anyway, since I would be hanging out with James and Kyle and Mike. But I wasn't going to call her and tell her that- no way. I wasn't about to go calling up some girl I barely knew. It was weird enough that she wanted to talk to me in the first place. So I guess I'd just have to miss it.
“Ha!” I laughed out loud. Soon more laughs escaped my lips, turning into waves of laughter, and then eventually I was practically rolling on the floor laughing. It just seemed so funny.
I had never even asked anybody out, and I was standing someone up.
I was going to stand up a girl who asked me!
It wouldn't have been all that funny normally, but at the moment, it was hilarious. Finally the laughter subsided, and I wiped my eyes and headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I climbed into my bed and pulled the blankets over me, I chuckled. When I closed my eyes, I snickered. I laughed myself to sleep.