Just Friends (20 page)

“It’s not the same. I mean popular like a celebrity. Like Simon. At his school, he’s like a celebrity. People admire him. They wish they could be him.”

Josh can definitely get that. He wishes he could be Simon. Not the football hero, big man-on-campus part – just the part where he kisses Jena.

“So is that why you can’t tell him to make a new try, Si? Because he’s as popular as money?”

She doesn’t answer that. Instead, she puts her hand to her mouth as if she just remembered that she left the front door open and the penguins are escaping. Her eyes widen, making them look even bluer. “OhmyGod, Josh. I just realized. I didn’t ask if you changed your plans so you could hold my hand and listen to me moan.”

“It wasn’t anything important.” The band can practise without him. They’re playing Lucille Furimsky’s birthday party at the end of the month, not some big arena. He picks up the remote. “I’d rather watch a movie with you.”

Jena leans against him the way a cat would – scattering peanuts on him and the sofa the way a cat wouldn’t. “Simon always lets me down, but not you. You’re always there for me.”

Both these statements are true. Something’s always coming up at the last minute for Simon. Or, memory like a busted sieve, he forgets he’s seeing Jena and makes other plans. Or he strains something playing football or scaling a mountain or jumping between buildings. Or they have a fight. And Josh steps in. Good old Josh, faithful and loyal. He was probably a dog in a previous life.

She squeezes his arm. “What would I do if you weren’t my friend?”

Josh presses the power button. “I guess you’d have to marry me.”

Jena laughs.

Sal
comes to an abrupt stop outside the Moon and Sixpence. Ramona is in the window, filling it with hearts. Heart cushions. Heart wind chimes. Quilts, scarves, aprons and sweaters, all covered with hearts. Hearts made of willow branches, made of hangers and made of used CDs – all of them floating on red ribbons attached to the ceiling. Sal’s own heart does what it always does when he sees Ramona unexpectedly, it misses a beat. And, although he has somewhere else to be and is already running late, he has a sudden brainwave and goes inside, accompanied by the gentle
click-clack
of the bamboo chimes and a big smile.

“Oh God, busted being the Hallmark handmaiden,” laughs Ramona as Sal steps through the door. She takes a heart-shaped wooden tray from the red stool beside her and holds it up like a shield. “Don’t blame me. My mother made me do it. You know I’m not the sentimental type.”

“Me neither,” says Sal. Which isn’t strictly true. “But seeing you decorating the window for the big love-in gave me this fantastic idea.”

“Really? A fantastic idea about Valentine’s?” She looks as if she doesn’t believe him. “And what’s that?”

Sal grins. “We have the alternative Valentine’s party!” If he were any more pleased with himself he’d do a dance.

Ramona puts the tray back down. “The alternative Valentine’s party?”

“Yeah. No flowers. No chocolates. No soppy songs. And I know some great movies about relationships that don’t have happy endings.”

“Oh, I get it! The anti-Valentine’s party!” She claps her hands together. “That is a fantastic idea! For all of us that aren’t going to find our mailboxes stuffed with cards.” Just the thing to cheer up someone whose heart is bruised if not actually broken. “No schmaltz. Or any of that lovey-dovey crap. Clear-sighted, cool-headed and hard-hearted realism.” She claps her hands again. “Oh, I know! I’ll make heart cookies and break them all in half. And Josh can play some of his more depressing songs. God knows he has enough of them.” She gives Sal a quick, excited hug. “Maybe I should make a banner that says ‘Romance Sucks’.”

Sal’s been carrying the torch for Ramona for so long it’s a miracle it hasn’t burned him. He wasn’t going to say anything. Not today; not now. Ever since he found out Josh isn’t interested in Ramona, he’s thought about it. But, like Josh, he’s never found the right moment; there’s always been a good reason to wait for a better time. It’s the hug that does it. The hug shoves him off his safe shelf of silence.

“Let’s not get carried away,” says Sal. “Romance can be cool. I think—” He suddenly looks around. “Where’s your mother?”

“My mother?” Ramona looks around, too, as if Jade might swing down from the ceiling at any second. “She’s in the back. Why? You want me to get her?”

Christ, no. That’s the last thing he wants.

“No. No, I just— It’s just that—” Sal takes a step towards her. “That— You know I like you, Ramona…”

“Of course. I like you, too.” And as soon as she says that she knows that isn’t what he means. She needs to stop him from going any further. “We’re friends.”

Sal shakes his head. “No, I mean, really like you. I—”

“Sal.” She puts a hand on his arm. “I really like you, too. But as a friend. I—” Ramona glances towards the door but of course no one’s coming in to interrupt them. The world has pretty much stopped turning for a few seconds.

“It’s okay.” He moves away from her hand. “I get it. I didn’t really think— I hoped, well, wished more. But I didn’t really think— I-I guess I’d better go.”

“Wait a minute. Don’t get all funny on me.” She grabs hold of him again. “It’s just that I have kind of a crush on someone. So I’m kind of not open to anyone else. But I sure as hell know how it feels.” She smiles, a sour, anti-Valentine’s smile. “Really shitty.”

Sal smiles back. “Yeah. You do know how it feels.” He laughs. “But you know… If you ever change your mind…”

She gives him another quick hug. “You’ll be the first to know.”

He nods. “I’m not going to ask.”

“You probably don’t have to,” says Ramona.

“You’re going to do what?” It’s possible that he misheard her; Mo can’t have said what he thinks she said. “Did you say you’re having a Valentine’s Day party?”

St Valentine’s is a holiday beloved by the purveyors of greeting cards, chocolates and roses – as well as by those who are either hopelessly romantic or lucky enough to know that they’re going to receive chocolates, roses and cards – but not everyone feels a thrill of excitement as February shuffles onto the calendar and hearts and cupids appear in shop windows. Indeed, many people feel an overwhelming urge to go back to bed until it’s all over. Josh has always been as indifferent to the day as a person who lives on a tropical island is indifferent to the difficulties of winter in Iceland – it has nothing to do with him. Until now, that is. Now, with the impending dumping of Simon Copeland – and against all odds – it did have something to do with him. It was going to be the day he sent his first-ever valentine to someone who isn’t his mother or his cat. It was to be sent to Jena anonymously and with the printed message “From your Secret Admirer”. And when she told him about it and wondered who could have sent it, he was going to say, “Who do you think?” In a way that made sure she didn’t think he meant the Un-incredible Hulk. And then, depending on how she reacted to that (a blush and knowing smile or the look of a girl who’s just seen a zombie at the kitchen window) he would either blurt out the truth or make a joke. But Jena didn’t break up with Simon (knock me over with a dust mote), and so instead of being the day Josh finally steps out of the closet of secret love, this year Valentine’s will be the day Simon Copeland gives chocolates, a card and at least one red rose to Jenevieve Capistrano, and takes her to the Emmanuel High School’s St Valentine’s dance. Never mind going back to bed, a cave in the Himalayas wouldn’t be far enough away from Parsons Falls to allow Josh to forget what day it is.

“Not
me
,
we
,” Ramona corrects him. “
We
are going to have the alternative Valentine’s Day party.”

“Alternative? Isn’t the alternative to St Valentine’s April Fool’s Day?”

She sighs. “Okay, not alternative, anti.”

“What? We give each other thorns, empty candy wrappers and poison-pen letters?”

“I was a little sceptical at first, too. But think about it. It’s actually a pretty cool idea.”

“I’m not being sceptical.” He tries to be, but sometimes lately – the world being as it is – it’s really hard to keep up. “I’m just trying to understand what it is.”

If the Olympics had an event for sighing, Ramona Minamoto would be the favourite to win. “It’s just a party for people who don’t get all dewy-eyed every time they hear a song with
I love you
in the lyrics, that’s all.” And for people who suspect that the phrase
lucky in love
will never apply to them – but she doesn’t say that.

“You mean for the unlovable,” says Josh.

She makes her camel-about-to-spit face. “We’re not unlovable, it’s just that no one’s noticed how wonderful we are yet.” Her smile makes up in teeth what it lacks in sweetness. “‘None so blind as those who will not see…’” she adds in a mumble.

Josh doesn’t really hear her. He’s still coming to grips with the idea of a party. Apparently, it was Sal’s idea, but Ramona thinks it’s a great one. How is that possible? Didn’t Sal say the only party he was interested in was the one to celebrate his first Oscar? And wasn’t she the girl who locked herself in her room and refused to come out at the party to celebrate her twelfth birthday? Has he finally stepped through a wormhole and into a parallel world?

“And where are
we
going to have it?” Not at the Minamotos’, whose house looks a lot like the gallery, only with more furniture. Carver has too many sisters. The Shines’ place is too small unless Josh’s mother goes out, when it’s still too small but at least they wouldn’t have Hannah sitting in the middle of them trying to read.

“At Sal’s.”
Of course
. “He has the rec room.”

“And who all’s coming?” Together they don’t have enough friends for a game of touch football.

She makes another of her Olympic-gold sighs. “For God’s sake, Josh, who do you think’s coming? This isn’t the anti-prom. We’re just talking about us. And maybe one or two other people. To balance the numbers.”

She sounds so casual that he’s immediately suspicious.

“Balance the numbers? What other people? Do you mean you’re inviting some girls?”

“Do you have a problem with that, Joshua? I was under the impression that you like girls. At least some of them.” Not only is Ramona a champion sigher, but she also has supercilious covered on a professional level. “It’s not like dates or anything. No one’s going to make you play spin the bottle. God forbid.” She screws up her mouth, as if reluctant to let her next words out. “What I was thinking was I’d invite Zara.” Zara makes sense. Lately she’s been around a lot anyway. “And Murray Schneider.”

“Murray Schneider? I didn’t know you even talked to Murray Schneider.”

“There’s a lot about me you don’t seem to know.” Which, apparently, is his fault. “Anyway, I do talk to her. She’s in the drama club.”

“She is?”
Murray Schneider is so shy that there are people who’ve gone to school with her since kindergarten who have never heard her voice. “In the drama club?” What as? A prop?

More sighing and rolling of eyes. “She’s not the lead, Josh. She’s a stagehand. You know, like your pal Jena? They also serve who only shove the sets around.”

Whenever Ramona mentions Jena she sounds like she’s criticizing.

“And you think Murray will come? Really? Does she know Carver’ll be there? You do remember how mad she got when he told her Jonah didn’t really live in a whale.”

That was in middle school. Murray was so upset that she ran from the room in tears, opened the door too quickly, hit herself in the head with it and passed out.

“I’m pretty sure she got over it,” says Ramona. “Anyway, she won’t be coming for Carver, she’ll be coming for Sal. She’d probably apologize to Carver for what happened if Sal asked her to. She’d do anything for Sal.”

“She would?” He has always thought of Sal as being as unlikely to incite passion as Josh; the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man to Josh’s elf. At least Josh has a chin.

“Well, yeah. He’s the reason she joined the drama club. She’s a fool for love.” Ramona’s whole face shrugs. “Another one.”

He doesn’t ask her what she means; he thinks he knows.

“What about Carver?”

“What about him? He’s okay hanging out with Zara. I’m not a dating service, you know. I just reckon it can’t hurt to give Murray and Sal a chance to get to know each other better. They have a lot in common.”

“They do?” Sal is Sal, large and loud, all waving arms and energy; Murray is small and quiet, a steady purr to the explosion that is Armando Salcedo.

“Yes, they do. Not obviously, maybe. But they’re both clever and full of ideas. In a lot of ways they’re really pretty similar.”

Who’d have thought?

“It sounds like a dating service to me.”

As so many before her have, she ignores him.

“So what do you think about the party? Sal says he knows some movies that would be perfect.”

“Like what?
The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre?
”

And it’s another gold medal for Ramona Minamoto, who has beaten the previous world record by five thousand sighs!

“You know,” says Ramona, “sarcasm isn’t always the appropriate response. Not to everything. What Sal means are movies where the love story doesn’t work out or ends really badly. You know. Like in life.”

Josh nods. He can definitely identify with that.

“And I’m going to bake broken-heart cookies.” Although he doesn’t know it, Ramona can identify with that. “We think you should be in charge of the music because you know so many blues songs where love goes hideously wrong.”

Doesn’t he just. Though it should probably be called the blacks not the blues. Dark as tar at the bottom of a two-hundred-foot well. The medley of songs Josh is beginning to think of as the soundtrack to his life starts running through his head. Ray Charles … Eric Von Schmidt … Roy Orbison … Linda Ronstadt … B. B. King … Leadbelly … Billie Holiday … Charley Patton … the Everly Brothers … Blind Willie McTell … Conway Twitty … Rolf Cahn … the Reverend Gary Davis… It’s a list as long as the Mississippi. Longer.