Wanna? II
“You’re not really my boyfriend," I say.
Julio shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal to have two serious girlfriends at the same time and I get that he doesn’t care if he blabs about the stuff I’ve told him - that none of it, my wig, my other name and the other big lie I told my first day about being scary sick, none of that matters. If you’ve ever seen Julio’s back, you get his numbness to most things.
“Friends?” He asks. And then he says, “Come on, the real party is this way.”
I gaze back at the dark corridor by the crowded front room and notice the staircase and the unexpected shadows I see there. I don’t see anyone going upstairs, but I’ve heard about Gitt’s room, her amazing closet and I think about the kinds of stuff she keeps up there. And I follow him into another room that has captured moonlight but so far none of my secrets.
Almost everything in the kitchen is white, except for a floating island that looks as dark as outer space, it is surrounded by appliances that appear baked into the walls. Other teens drift in and out of the kitchen too and head for the snacks and soda on the counter or the Lifesaver candies in the sparkly bowl.
He hands me a beer.
“Someone should take care of these. Wanna?” He asks. Julio opens up his palm. I see the challenge in his eyes.
“Friends?” I say. I’m not sure whether I ask Julio or the tiny rocket ships he’s got in his hands.
“Better than friends,” Julio says.
I take a long sip of the beer and imagine what he’s got can fix my life, or at least help me see it from the stars. It’s easy then to imagine I am cured of cancer.
Julio shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal to have two serious girlfriends at the same time and I get that he doesn’t care if he blabs about the stuff I’ve told him - that none of it, my wig, my other name and the other big lie I told my first day about being scary sick, none of that matters. If you’ve ever seen Julio’s back, you get his numbness to most things.
“Friends?” He asks. And then he says, “Come on, the real party is this way.”
I gaze back at the dark corridor by the crowded front room and notice the staircase and the unexpected shadows I see there. I don’t see anyone going upstairs, but I’ve heard about Gitt’s room, her amazing closet and I think about the kinds of stuff she keeps up there. And I follow him into another room that has captured moonlight but so far none of my secrets.
Almost everything in the kitchen is white, except for a floating island that looks as dark as outer space, it is surrounded by appliances that appear baked into the walls. Other teens drift in and out of the kitchen too and head for the snacks and soda on the counter or the Lifesaver candies in the sparkly bowl.
He hands me a beer.
“Someone should take care of these. Wanna?” He asks. Julio opens up his palm. I see the challenge in his eyes.
“Friends?” I say. I’m not sure whether I ask Julio or the tiny rocket ships he’s got in his hands.
“Better than friends,” Julio says.
I take a long sip of the beer and imagine what he’s got can fix my life, or at least help me see it from the stars. It’s easy then to imagine I am cured of cancer.
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