Boy Meets Boy

“Oh. I put a note in your locker. I tried to get here right after school, but ten thousand things got in my way. I really wanted to be here.”

He can’t read me, either. The confusion is on his face. He doesn’t know if I’m being sincere.

“Locker two-six-four, right?”

“Two-six-three.”

Oops. I apologise on behalf of my pathetic memory and then ask him what he did last night, trying to ease things into a conversation.

“I painted some music. You?”

“Oh, I fought a forest fire.” When I don’t have anything interesting to say, I usually try to make up something interesting. Then I take one last stab at sounding impressive: “And I started thinking about the Dowager Dance. I’m going to architect it.”

“What’s the Dowager Dance?” he asks.

I forgot he’s new to the school. He has no idea what I’m talking about.

For all he knows, I really do fight forest fires in my free time.

I start giving him answers, explaining away the Dowager Dance and the organisational fury of Lyssa Ling. But instead of giving answers, I want to be asking him questions. What does he mean by “paint some music”? Is he happy I’m here? Does he want me to stop talking? Because I keep talking and talking. I am telling him about the time Lyssa Ling tried to sell bagels with fortunes baked inside them as a sixth-grade fundraiser, and how the shipment was switched and we got the fortune bagels that were supposed to go to a bachelor party, with XXX-rated slips of paper inserted into the dough. It’s a funny story, but somehow I am making it boring. I can’t stop in the middle, so I go on and on. Noah doesn’t walk away or nod off, but he’s certainly not riding my tangent. I’m barely on it myself.

“Thank God I found you!”

It’s not Noah saying this. It’s Infinite Darlene, right behind me.

“Am I interrupting?” she asks.

Now, I really like Infinite Darlene. But among all my friends, she’s usually the last I introduce to new people. I have to prepare them. Because Infinite Darlene doesn’t make the best first impression. She seems very full of herself. Which she is. It’s only after you get to know her better that you realise that somehow she’s managed to encompass all her friends within her own self-image, so that when she’s acting full of herself, she’s actually full of her close friends too.

There is no way I can expect Noah to understand this.

I try to send Infinite Darlene a look to let her know she’s interrupting, without actually telling her out loud.

It doesn’t work.

“You must be that boy Paul likes,” she says to Noah.

I turn Elmo red.

“And boy,” Infinite Darlene continues, “you sure are cute.”

The first time Infinite Darlene talked to me like this, I stuttered for days. Noah smiles and takes it in his stride.

“Now, are all the girls at this school as nice as you?” he asks. “If so, I’m definitely going to like it here.”

He looks right at her as he says it. And I can tell that even Infinite Darlene is a little taken aback, because it’s clear he’s seeing her just as she wants to be seen. So few people do that.

With two sentences, he’s managed to win over my most critical friend.

I am in awe.

I am also mortified by Infinite Darlene’s declaration of my liking. Sure, I’m about as smooth as a camel’s back…but I was still trying to win him over with my own sweet plan (whatever that might be).

Of course, Infinite Darlene will only let a beat last so long before stepping in again.

“Is this awful, vile rumour I hear actually true? Break it to me gently.”

“Do you mind if I derail for a second?” I ask Noah, then quickly add, “Please stay.”

“No problem,” he says.

That settled, I face Infinite Darlene. In heels, she is easily six inches taller than me. In an effort to break it to her gently, I talk to her chin.

“It appears that Joni has started something with—”

“Stop!” Infinite Darlene interrupts, stepping back and holding up her hand. “I can’t take any more. Why, Paul? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s scum.”

I am not about to argue with a football captain who has long fingernails.

“Haven’t I taught her anything?” Infinite Darlene is clearly exasperated. “I mean, I know she has bad taste. But this is like licking the bottom of your stiletto.”

Clearly, Infinite Darlene still feels some hostility toward Chuck.

“I have to find that girl and talk some sense into her,” she concludes. I put up a show of trying to dissuade her, but we both know there’s no way I’m going to stop her. She leaves in a huff.

“Friend of yours?” Noah asks, eyebrow raised.

I nod.

“I’ll bet she’s always like that.”

I nod again.

“I feel very calm in comparison.”

“We all do,” I assure him. “This is the kind of stuff I was dealing with yesterday when I should’ve been here.”

“Does this happen often?”

“Not this specific thing, but there’s usually something like it.”

“Do you think you could escape the crisis for a few hours this afternoon?”

Since Infinite Darlene blew my cover so thoroughly, I decide to take a risk.