My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters (28 page)

BOOK: My Big Nose and Other Natural Disasters
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Although the fact remained that the only photo of me that would appear in the yearbook would be me with my hands over my face, me with my tongue sticking out, or me looking demented and lovey-dovey (the photographer refused to schedule a reshoot because I was, quote, "unstable"). So we'd all decided to get our own senior photo up at Silver Sadie's studio in Virginia City and pool our money to buy space in the yearbook. With only three days before the start of school, we also decided to make a day of it, gorging on chocolate at Grandma's Fudge Shop, riding the old steam train, and window-shopping. Megan wanted to tour some of the historic buildings, and we all agreed that it might get us back into learning mode.

"Check out those legs!" Megan veered away from a cyclist pumping his way up the mountain. "After spending time at the beach this summer, I think I'm definitely a leg woman."

"Looking at these guys makes me feel tired," I said. "I never want to ride a bike again." I scanned the hillsides, hoping to spot some wild horses.

"But you probably got so good at going uphill," Hannah said.

"No, I got good at reassuring Tyler that we wouldn't give away his secret while he drove me home." Actually, I'd really missed my daily Tyler talks since I'd gotten fired. Even though I hadn't told him about the whole nose thing, we'd had great discussions about appearances versus reality, mostly using our mothers as examples. It seemed a little crazy, but we'd become friends.

"Have you seen him since you—" Hannah turned around.

"Got fired? We've been to lunch a couple of times," I said. "I wish he didn't feel like he needed to keep something so important a secret. He really needs friends right now."

"I've actually talked to him a few times myself," Megan said. "That perverted law clerk started a massive affair with the temp who was answering phones. They both got fired. Sweet justice. Tyler's still pretty nervous about how I feel about his secret. I keep telling him that I don't care. I'm saving myself for
mature
college men."

"Like the ones we met at that frat party? Good luck." Hannah and I giggled.

"Yeah, I know. You've told me a million times." I watched Megan smile shyly in the rearview mirror. "I did kind of run into Will Fryer at the mall—summer has been very good to that boy, if you know what I mean." She raised an eyebrow. "And he
is
on the academic team."

"You should totally go for a serious guy like Will," Hannah said. "So beyond Tyler."

"Actually, I'm trying to convince Tyler to join the team too. He's super smart, but his dad wants him to stick with sports."

I leaned against the back seat, checking to see how I felt about Megan talking with Tyler. I felt okay. Not threatened. I wanted the best for Tyler. Maybe the three of us could go to lunch?

"Tyler's dad seems to be pretty tough on him," I said. "He has all these expectations for Tyler to be a man's man and date gorgeous girls, drive expensive cars, and learn the high-rolling casino business."

"Seems like he wants a clone." Megan swerved around a pair of cyclists. "That would totally suck."

I used to think my mom wanted me to be her clone. Turned out she was just too hard on herself. Maybe Tyler's dad should take up beading with Helen; it might give him a new perspective. I imagined Mr. Briggs, an Italian-suit-wearing, cigar-smoking gorilla, crouched down at the table, stringing beads with his ring-covered fingers. I chuckled.

"What?" Megan said. "I'm driving okay."

"No, I was just imagining Tyler's dad at the Jewel Cafe."

"You're really into that jewelry stuff, aren't you?" Megan said.

"I think it's cool that you finally found a passion—something unique for you." Hannah turned to smile at me. Again. At this rate she'd make herself motion sick like she had at the Rodeo Carnival. Megan would lose it if Hannah hurled in Bugsy.

"You've got to cherish what's unique because you're a real yawn if it goes." I tried to remember exactly how Helen had phrased it. "Or something like that."

"I like that. Did you make that up?" Megan asked.

"Some actress said it. Bette Midler?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"Red hair, big nose?" Hannah asked.

"I guess." I let the phrase
big nose
wash over me. So what? Let people describe other people like that. I didn't have to do it. I didn't have to criticize how other people dressed. I didn't have to talk about their hair, or make fun of their belly bulges, big boobs, or big or small anything. I could be positive, see the best in people. Maybe even see the best in me.

Gideon does.

I let out a wish-I-could-be-making-out-with-Gideon sigh. I hadn't seen him in two days because Mom insisted on driving to Sacramento for school shopping (only so she could totally check out a bead store) and I'd promised Hannah and Megan I'd spend the last Saturday before school started with them. Gideon said taking a little break would be good. Let us cool off a bit. The other night after beading, we'd been kissing and doing a little exploring when he made me stop.

"You've been really honest with me," he said. "So I should be honest with you."

He looked nervous, fiddling with the edge of his quilt; I braced myself for bad news. Even the cat had jumped off the bed.

"You see..." He paused. I prickled with panic.

"I've kind of decided that I won't lose my virginity in high school." He said it so fast that it took me a while to figure out what he'd said. "I know that's so lame and dorky."

I laughed, even though I knew it was exactly the wrong response.

"I should tell you that one of my summer goals was not to die a virgin," I said, then waited while his eyes got wide. "But I've changed my mind. I think I confused sex with acceptance or self-worth or some other mumbo jumbo from the book my mom not so subtly left on my pillow last week." I wrapped my hand around his. "Anyway, I think that what I wanted from sex is something I need to discover for myself. I'm still trying to figure it out. So waiting is a good thing."

Gideon let out a big breath. "You scared me there for a minute. Want some ice cream?"

"We're going to be eating a lot of ice cream this year, aren't we?"

He kissed my hand in a kind of dorky, kind of charming way. "I fear so, my lady."

Megan found a parking spot near the Silver Queen Hotel. We wandered inside to look at the huge portrait of the lady with the gown made from real silver dollars.

"How many school clothes do you think you could buy with all those silver dollars?" Hannah asked as we gazed at the sparkling coins.

"Almost as many as Ashley Winters will wear the first month of school," Megan said.

Afterward, we toured the Mackay Mansion, Piper's Opera House, the schoolhouse, and the old church, at Hannah's insistence. She loved the fact that it had survived the great fire that had destroyed most of the town in 1875. I liked the fact that they had completely rebuilt the
rest
of the town within eighteen months—it reminded me of how all of us can recover from the bad things that happen.

Everywhere we went, Megan soaked up the information about Mark Twain's time as a reporter in Virginia City while Hannah went on and on about the spirit of the old objects.

Sample conversation:

"What do you think they made for the last meal cooked in this kitchen?" Hannah asked. "What did the person who last slept in this bed dream?"

"How did the last bowel movement taken in that chamber pot smell?" Megan asked.

"How did it feel to scrub that floor for the last time?" I asked.

Hannah scoffed. "You two have no sense of history."

I paid a lot of attention to the jewelry the women wore in the old photographs. Wouldn't it be fun to re-create period jewelry? In the Mackay Mansion, one woman wore a choker that was kind of like the one I'd just finished, except hers had a jeweled cross on the end and mine had a heart-shaped bead.

"Your choker sort of looks like that." Megan stood next to me. "Is it antique?"

I had hoped one of them would notice my necklace. "No, I made it."

"You
did?
It looks, like, totally professional." Hannah put her fingers on my neck. "Can you make something for me?"

I thought of the multistranded button necklace I'd designed for Hannah. "I'm working on something for you."

"And me?"

"I have something very classic planned."

"Black?" Megan flipped her hair up and looked at me.

"Of course." I smiled, thinking that finally I had something unique about me. An actual skill! "I'm also making a charm bracelet for Katie to send along with my check for the van—hopefully, it will smooth things over a bit." I made a face.

Megan sighed. "We weren't exactly superlative summer employees, were we?"

"I think I'll go down as the worst delivery driver in history."

"What about me?" Megan shook her head, speechless. Hannah wrapped her arms around our shoulders.

"Well, I still think you guys are the best."

Megan and I rolled our eyes and started laughing.

We popped into various gift shops as we walked down the old-fashioned wooden sidewalks toward the photo place. The air ahead of us smelled sweet with fudge. It reminded me of the sweet, sugary smell at Katie's, but with a more pleasing chocolate aroma. Tourists gathered outside the corral for the fake gunfight. Megan gawked at the cute cowboy guy selling tickets.

"You should've seen the real cowboys—I mean, cowmen—at the Rodeo Carnival," I said.

"Trust me. I know."

"Friends come before boys," Hannah said, as if she hadn't been spending all her time with José.

"Hello? I'm the only one without a boyfriend." Megan made an exaggerated pouty face. "That reminds me. I need fudge. Or maybe ice cream."

I smiled to myself, thinking,
Gideon, boyfriend, my boyfriend, Gideon.

"It
is
super hot," Hannah said. "I don't think I'll wear my new sweater on Monday."

"Only freshmen wear their new clothes," I said. "We're seniors. We know better." I had actually started looking forward to school: going out to lunch with Gideon, stopping by Gideon's locker, maybe even releasing all the PE volleyballs back into nature...

The fan whirring in the sweetshop cooled us a bit as we looked around. Hannah and Megan pored over the ice cream flavors while I looked at the fudge. I'd been eating a lot of ice cream lately; the thought of eating it without Gideon and his chocolate jokes made me feel a little lonely for him.

"I've been meaning to tell you that I love those earrings," Megan said as we paid for the ice cream and fudge.

"Me too." Hannah swung one of the little hearts with her finger. "Did you make them to match your necklace?"

"Not exactly." I blushed. "Gideon made them for me."

"He makes jewelry? Isn't that a little—" Hannah scrunched up her tiny nose.

"Suspicious, if you catch my drift." Megan frowned.

Not again. Why couldn't they leave Gideon and me alone? So what if he wasn't on the approved-potential-boyfriend list? He liked me; he cared about me; he made me feel good—about myself. "Trust me. It means he's good with his hands, if you catch
my
drift." I raised my eyebrows and attempted the Look.

"Jory! That's so not like you." Hannah giggled. "So bold."

"Yeah, Junior Jory could never have pulled off a look like that." Megan handed me my bag of fudge. I'd bought extra for Gideon. Vanilla.

"Next thing we know you'll be selling your jewelry on late night TV like that old soap star." Megan launched into a sales pitch, using a nasally voice and exaggerated hand gestures that bordered on the obscene.

I started laughing so hard that I dribbled chocolaty fudge spit down my shirt. My white shirt.

"Ah, now
that's
the Jory I remember," Megan said. "Patented neatness issues." Megan took a delicate bite out of her waffle cone. "Maybe I should do your TV spots."

"You're gorgeous enough." I didn't usually compliment my friends, but it felt good.

"I am not." Megan swatted my knee with her hand.

"You know you are," Hannah and I said together.

"Well, maybe." Megan vamped up and down the wooden sidewalk, finishing her cone. "But I'd rather sell shoes, if I'll get an employee discount. Or maybe textbooks. Do you know how much college textbooks cost?" Hannah and I reminded Megan that we
still
had a year of high school left.

"I know," Megan said. "And I promise to enjoy it. Ninety-five percent of the time. Maybe only eighty-five percent of the time."

"Come on, Meg. We're going to have a great year. Go, Huskies!" I moved my hands like pompoms.

That got Hannah started on a discussion about whether she should sit on the Wooster or Reno side during the first football game.
Will I be a traitor? Should I wear red and white, but not blue? People will see me with José afterward anyway.

Megan and I exchanged looks as Hannah debated herself. Finally, Megan held up her watch in front of Hannah's face.

"Oh, no! We're supposed to be at the photo shop—and I still have to brush my teeth!" Megan and I rolled our eyes, but Hannah simply hooked her arms through ours and we walked down the street side by side, giggling like crazy while tourists stared at us.

Hannah drove the photographer nuts trying to decide between proper Victorian lady or lady of the evening. She tried on a long, old-timey dress with a fancy bonnet, then a teddy with a bustier, then the old-timey dress again.

"What's right for the moment? This exact moment?" she fretted.

I went with the teddy and fishnets. So did Megan.

"People are going to have their yearbooks for years," Megan said. "Plus my mom has always told me to appreciate my youthful body."

"My mom said the same thing." I gasped. "She was all, Go for it, Jory. Enjoy being young with all your possibilities ahead. Eating actual meals has sure changed that woman!"

"I don't think she meant for you to look like a hooker, though," Hannah said.

"Soiled Dove, thank you very much." I liked the thought of Gideon seeing this photo—he'd end up eating cartons of ice cream!

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