Me Being Me Is Exactly as Insane as You Being You (5 page)

1.
 Nate:
Cant call at Stats review

2.
 Darren:
Fuck

3.
 Nate:
Whats up?

4.
 Darren:
Dad

5.
 Nate:
What about Dad

6.
 Darren:
Did he say anything 2 u?

7.
 Nate:
About what

8.
 Darren:
Did he

9.
 Nate:
What r u talking about

10.
 Darren:
Forget it

11.
 Nate:
Tell me

12.
 Darren:
No

13.
 Nate:
Tell me dickwad

14.
 Darren:
Dads gay

15.
 Darren:
Hes gay he told me

16.
 Nate:
Bullshit

17.
 Darren:
U didnt know?

18.
 Nate:
Ur lying

19.
 Darren:
Im not

20.
 Darren:
He told me this morning

21.
 Nate:
R gay dad. Funny psych prof talked about denial 2day

22.
 Darren:
Huh?

23.
 Nate:
Ill call you in a couple hours

5
Events That Had to Take Place in Order for Darren to Become Oblivion's Bassist, Even Though the Band Sort of Broke Up When Nate and Phil Went Off to School

1.
 Nate bought a guitar with money he earned lifeguarding the summer after tenth grade.

2.
 Nate, Phil Reed (drums), and Ricky Chen (bass) decided to form a band, which they first called Showtime.

3.
 Sometimes Nate let Darren quietly watch their rehearsals.

4.
 Ricky (who sucked anyway) quit the band or got kicked out, and when he quit/got kicked out he pushed over his amp (but luckily didn't do any serious damage to it) and then just left without even bothering to take his equipment.

5.
 A few weeks later Nate and Phil (who kept jamming together anyway and now called themselves Protest) had a friendly argument that started when Nate asked Phil, “C'mon, seriously, how hard could it be to play the bass?” Which eventually led to Nate saying to Darren, who was sitting on a milk crate in the corner of the garage and wondering why he hadn't gone inside already to watch TV, plus he had homework, “Hey, Darren, come here.”

The next thing he knew, the heavy instrument was hanging from a strap that ran between his neck and shoulder. Nate took his brother's left hand, held it under the bass's neck, and placed the index finger on a certain spot on the top string and said, “This is a G; just play that steady like this,” and he showed Darren how to strum the thick string with the index and middle fingers of his other hand. Next Nate said, “Okay, so when I say so, move your finger to this string, that's a C, and then back to G, and then we'll go up here to D, then C, then G. You got it?”

Darren said yes, because he always listens pretty closely to whatever Nate says.

And even though it hurt the tip of his index finger, playing the bass was pretty easy, which wasn't nearly as surprising as the fact that Darren kind of knew beforehand that it would be easy, he just knew, so the three of them jammed for about five minutes, Nate smiling at Darren in this way that made Darren ten times happier than he had been in a long, long time. Phil nodded his head like Darren was his new hero, and when they stopped, Nate said to Phil, “See what I mean?”

9
Other Names Showtime/Protest Had Before Becoming Oblivion, and the Person Who Named It That

1.
 The Elements (Phil)

2.
 Acid Bath (Nate)

3.
 Electric Eye (Nate)

4.
 Colonel Punishment (Phil and Nate)

5.
 Ax and Hatchet (Phil, and a little bit Darren (the Hatchet part))

6.
 Sequoia (Nate and maybe Phil)

7.
 The Ozones (Phil)

8.
 Zero Gravity (Matt or Marc or Max Brodsky, some guy from Nate and Phil's grade)

9.
 The Meds (Nate)

5
More Times Today That Darren Misses Nate, and This Is Getting Ridiculous Already, but Every Once in a While Darren Has a Day like Today, When Everything Makes Him Think of His Brother, and It's Not Like Today Is Just Another Day Anyhow, So the Whole Thing Isn't All That Surprising

1.
 1:35 p.m.—Darren correctly completes twelve of Mr. Gibbs's sentences. The guy has this strange habit of pausing for a moment or two before saying the last word in a sentence, something Nate told Darren about when Darren told him he was going to have Mr. Gibbs this year. The record, held by Nate of course, is a will-never-be-broken seventeen, but twelve is still pretty good.

2.
 2:54 p.m.—In English class, as part of a poetry unit, Ms. Gleason has them read and discuss the lyrics to Bob Dylan's “Visions of Johanna.” The first thing they do is just go around the room, everyone reading two lines at a time. One of Darren's lines is “The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face,” and even though it was obviously just luck, he has this odd feeling that Nate would be proud of him for getting what is clearly the greatest line in any rock song ever, something he could tell by the way Ms. Gleason, in her red scarf, lights up when she calls his name and asks him to read it.

3.
 3:26 p.m.—Darren tunes his bass and wishes again that he had done a better job convincing Nate to come home for tonight's concert, even though he understands what it means that Nate has an exam in Stats tomorrow morning that he can't miss.

4.
 3:29 p.m.—Maggie, probably for the concert tonight, has done something drastic to her hair, which for the first time looks normal and even good. She now has thick, beautiful curls that fall almost to her shoulders. Eight-elevenths of the remaining ensemble members make fun of her in this way (playful and giddy) the group tends to make fun of anything unexpected. Maggie, not blushing even a little bit, instructs her ensemble-mates to eat her. Darren definitely belongs to the three-elevenths of the ensemble that wisely keeps its mouth shut, in part because he immediately starts trying to think of a way to change the position or angle of his chair so that it will be harder to look at her while he's playing, because now Maggie is attractive in a way that would be much easier to explain to Nate and therefore is very distracting.

5.
 3:59 p.m.—When the ensemble finishes a pretty solid version of “Take the ‘A' Train,” Mr. Keyes looks at Darren and snaps just for him, because Darren finally agreed last week to take a short solo at the start of “Footprints,” but only because Mr. Keyes kept telling him that he thought a great bass solo right then would really “knock everyone's socks off.” Only Darren forgets to start playing, and then, when he does start, it just doesn't sound very good at all. He bets that everyone is looking at him with what Mr. Keyes calls “encouraging eyes,” but Darren just stares at his own feet and thinks about how he would never blow it for Nate in a situation like this.

3
Parts of What Could Be Considered a Single Phone Conversation That Darren Has with His Frazzled and Apologetic Mom, Who Has to Keep Calling Him Back, Because Cell Phone Reception in North High Totally Blows and They Keep Getting Disconnected

1.
 Darren's walking from ensemble rehearsal to his driving lesson when she first calls, and the timing doesn't really surprise him, because it's totally like her to know exactly when there's a five-minute opening in his schedule.

“Hi,” Darren says, like the worst receptionist in the history of the planet.

“Hi, honey,” she says, a little singsongy. “I'm so sorry I couldn't call you earlier; my flight was almost ninety minutes late.”

“Oh.”

“Some kind of ‘mechanical problem with the aircraft.' Whatever that means. Completely screwed up the whole day, which was going to be crazy to begin with.”

“Bummer.”

“The day's a total disaster at this point. I swear, I'm not exaggerating.” She's talking superfast, which somehow happens when she's in California. “Complete and total disaster, I mean—”

“Mom?”

“Yeah, sweetie?” She slows down. “How ya doing?”

“Did you”—there's no one anywhere in the long hallway, but Darren still wanders to the nearest corner and kind of mumbles—“know about Dad?”

“Yes. Of course I did.”

There's a bunch of black-and-white charcoal drawings hanging on the wall nearby. Of shoes. “How long”—a couple are pretty good, but most of them aren't—“I mean, when did you . . .”

“I've known for a while.”

“A while?”

“I wish your father hadn't elected to tell you this today. I mean, of all days—”

“What do you mean, a while?” She doesn't answer. “What the hell does a while mean?” No answer.

Darren looks at his phone. They've been disconnected. He stands there, trying to decide if he should start walking again, until his phone vibrates again.

2.
 “Hey,” Darren grumbles.

“Hi.”

No one says anything for two or three seconds.

“He told me around the time we decided to separate.”

Darren has started walking back toward the band room, not that he plans to go back inside. “But what? You didn't, you didn't, like, know before?”

Long pause. Darren looks at his phone. Still connected.

“I wasn't completely surprised when he told me.”

“What does that mean?” Darren asks quickly.

“It's complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

“Why don't . . .” He can hear her exhale. “When I get back, you and I can have a long talk about this. Why don't we do that? If you want to.”

“But what's so complicated? Wasn't he gay the whole time? It's not like you just wind up gay all of a sudden.” Darren somehow finds himself in what might be considered an alcove located between a bunch of lockers and a large column, painted blue. “Right?”

“For a number of years”—pause—“I was under the impression he was bisexual.” Darren adjusts his pants, which feel very hot. “But, I believe it is his intention going forward to date only men.”

“What?”

“I know,” she says softly.

“He's bisexual?”

“I believe so. Yes.”

“Why'd you marry someone bisexual?”

“Darren, it's—”

“Or did you only find out later?”

“I'm sorry, Darren.”

“Sorry? You're sorry?” Now Darren's talking like he's in California. “What are you talking about?” Plus, somehow, he's back by the shoe drawings.

“I promise, when I get back, I promise to tell you . . . most everything I know about the whole thing, and—”

“What do you mean, most everything?”

“Most everything. Because there are certain things that are not for me to tell you.”

Two girls, giggling and carrying lacrosse sticks, are heading his way. So he starts walking toward them, trying to look normal. “Whatever,” he says as neutrally as he can. He looks at the girls as he passes them, but they don't seem to notice him. “And then he tells me without Nate. I mean, seriously?”

“I agree. I would not have told you and your brother separately.”

“I mean, what the hell?”

“But it wasn't my choice to—”

Stupid-ass cell phones.

3.
 Now he's outside. Not far from the ugly minivan he has to drive in about two minutes. When she calls back, he might not even answer. The phone vibrates.

“Yeah.”

Then again, he might.

“Darren.” Nothing. “Honey. You should ask your father whatever you want about all this. I'm sure he'll be honest with you.”

“Awesome.”

“I'm sorry, sweetie.”

“So this is why you got divorced. Not all that other stuff you told us about.”

“Sort of, but not . . . It's not the only reason we got divorced.” Darren's pants are not cooling down. “But it's obviously—well, it's a big part why. A pretty big part.”

If Darren had a bazooka, he'd take out that minivan. Actually, he'd set the bazooka down, walk over to the minivan, place his phone on the roof, go back to the bazooka, and then take out the minivan. He'd hope for the kind of hit where the minivan doesn't just explode, but also lifts in the air and then flips over and comes down on its back.

“It's very complicated.”

“Fine.”

Long pause. Pants possibly beginning to cool down.

“How was the rest of your day?”

Darren elects to ignore this.

“Well. The weather here, today, it's so magnificent. It's such a shame . . . Oh wait, damn it. If this is who I think it is . . . Yep, damn it, I've got to take this. But listen, honey, I'm so sorry I'm not there. I promise, we'll talk about this after your concert. Which I can't believe I'm missing. And, and I'm so excited for you that you're going to see Nate tomorrow. You two will have a blast, I'm sure. Even after all this, I'm sure you will. I love you, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Bye.”

12
Words That Darren Was Able to Guess Today Before Mr. Gibbs Actually Said Them

1.
 Germans