One Lonely Degree (13 page)

Suzanne isn’t one for small talk after all. She purses her lips like I’m wasting their time. “We have a few short questions for you, Finn. Our aim here is to try to get an idea of how you’d fit in with the Play Country team.”

My mouth drops a little, dismayed at the suggestion. I don’t want to fit in with the Play Country team; I just want a hassle-free summer job. Then Mom’s advice pops back into my head, and guess what? She’s absolutely right. This is a nothing summer job. It doesn’t matter whether I get it or not. Sure, the money would be good and it’d be cool to work next to Audrey for the summer, but whatever, it’s not life and death.

That makes it easier, and I manage to answer all of Suzanne and Gerald’s questions without looking like a total anti-socialite. Gerald puts his feet back on the table and tells me they’ll be in touch in a week. I don’t know whether I should shake his hand again or not, so I don’t.

“Thanks,” I tell them. Audrey would probably smile and say something witty, but trying to impress people takes a lot out of me and I’m already spent.

Mom’s car is in the parking lot when I go outside, and she gives me a hopeful look and asks how it went. I repeat Suzanne and Gerald’s pseudo-corporate questions, and as soon as we’re home I call Audrey. When she picks up, I put on a fake business tone and tell her I want to discuss our future bosses and roles on the Play Country team. Audrey laughs and says, “What I remember most was that Suzanne looked like she was dying to knock Gerald’s feet off his desk. All through my interview her eyes kept zooming over to them with this pissed-off look.”

“She didn’t seem too happy in mine either,” I tell her. We promise to give each other a call as soon as we hear something definite, and I hang up and swallow the daily vitamin that I forget to take every morning.

Later we do our family-dinner thing, and afterwards I help with the dishes. My hands are in the sink when the phone rings and Dad picks up. “She’s not here at the moment,” he says, eyes narrowing as he listens. “Not as far as I know,” he adds. “Would you like to speak to Finn?” I grab a towel and dry my hands, staring pensively at Dad. “It’s Steven for you.” My throat dries up as he hands me the cordless. “He’s looking for Audrey.”

“Steven?” I say into the phone. Audrey’s mom is always Mrs. Lepage, but Steven, for some reason, is just Steven.

“Finn.” I hear his firm military voice in that single syllable. “Audrey said she was riding her bike over to your place. I take it this is the first you’re hearing of it?”

My brain’s jammed. I can’t invent a lie fast enough. “Well … I’ve probably just forgotten,” I stammer. “But I’ll tell her you’re looking for her when I see her. I bet she’ll be here any second now.”

“She left over an hour ago.” He sounds like he’s reading a police report. “Where would she have gone instead?”

“I don’t know.” I’m so afraid to say the wrong thing that my lips barely move. “Maybe she bumped into someone from school.”

“I have a good idea who that could be,” he says. “Is there anything you want to tell me, Finn?”

“No.” I sound baffled, and I am. I can’t believe Audrey would use me as an excuse without mentioning it. Is it possible she’s really missing? “Can you let me know if you find her?”

“I’ll find her,” he says confidently. “Don’t you worry about that.”

I tell him goodbye and hang up. Goosebumps are popping up on my arms, and I stand next to Dad, who wants to know what’s going on. I give him the official version of the story, same as I gave Steven, my voice thick with genuine worry. If Steven finds Audrey and Jersy together, she’ll never have another chance to prove herself. Her parents will ground her for the entire summer, possibly longer. They’ll confiscate her computer and take the phone out of her room, and that could be just the start.

I can’t imagine a summer without Audrey, and I feel panic bang at the inside of my chest. It grows stronger with every hour, until I can’t stand it anymore and dial her house, my mouth full of marbles.

“I’m sorry?” Mrs. Lepage says. “Who is this?”

“It’s Finn,” I blurt out. “Is Audrey home?”

Mrs. Lepage sighs into the telephone. “She’ll speak with you at school on Monday, Finn.” The dial tone hums into my ear, telling me everything but the details.

I was wrong about this summer.

Freaky girls don’t have good summer vacations.

TH
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of classes rushes by in a blur of tears and hushed voices. Audrey and Jersy disappear every lunch hour and return looking flushed and frustrated. I hardly have a minute to speak to Audrey alone, and when I do, she won’t stop talking about Jersy and how she doesn’t know how she’ll get through the summer without him. “Or you,” she adds hastily.

Or me. Yeah, I’m an afterthought. I’d be angry if I wasn’t missing her so much already. What am I supposed to do with two empty months of sunshine without her?

We have the same conversation every morning in homeroom, until Friday when I lose it and say, “What were you thinking? You would’ve had all summer long to be with Jersy, and you had to go and mess it up. You never even warned me that you were using me as an excuse to go over to his place. And my entire family was home! There’s no way I could’ve covered for you anyway.” I’m practically shouting, and the guy in front of me swivels around in
his seat and raps on my desk with his knuckles like he’s calling a courtroom to attention.

“Fuck off,” I tell him.

“Fuck you,” he says back, smiling. “Gee-zus, chill why don’t you. It’s the last fucking day of school.”

I give him a Medusa stare until he turns away and then sneak a peek at Audrey. Couldn’t she at least have hidden her bike in Jersy’s garage? She made it so easy for Steven.

“You don’t understand what it’s like, Finn,” she says. “We’ve hardly had any time alone since April. I thought they were easing off with the phone calls. I’d never have done it if I thought they’d call you.” She pulls her hair down around her face. “I know you were sick of all that. I wanted to leave you out of it.”

Her explanation sounds like a half-truth. Mostly she was just in a hurry to get over to Jersy’s house and mess around while his parents were out. I was the last person on her mind—just a convenient alibi.

Now the three of us have to suffer all summer long. Steven’s already arranged to ship Audrey off to her aunt’s house in Gatineau, Quebec, for the summer. He and Mrs. Lepage are going to drive Audrey over there two days after her last exam. Audrey’s mom tried to pass it off as a holiday, but Audrey protested that holidays are usually optional. Then Steven started yelling that they obviously couldn’t keep track of her twenty-four hours a day in Glenashton.

“I want to be out of it,” I cry. “But it seems like every single aspect of our friendship now is just about you and Jersy.”

Our homeroom teacher strides into Portable G before Audrey can reply. My hands are shaking, and if I wasn’t sitting in homeroom I’d already be crying. I don’t want to be mean to Audrey. I want to work next to her at some nothing summer job for the next
two months, joking about our shitty bosses. I know she’d be with Jersy every chance she got, but there’d still be some time left over for me—especially if we worked together.

I glance over at Audrey, but she’s looking straight ahead, pretending to listen to announcements. We stand for prayers and I stare straight ahead too, hoping she’s glancing over at me and that she’s not angry.

Then I realize I’ve forgotten my locker combo again and that I threw away the scrap of paper I’d written it on two days ago, thinking I’d never need it again.

My gaze shoots over to Audrey, who is dedicated to the idea of not looking in my direction, and then down at the corner of my desk where someone has carved the letter “G.” I never noticed it before, and now I don’t know if I’ve been missing it all year long or if it’s brand new.

The bell rings and Audrey’s halfway to the door. I’m both missing her and mad, and I have no idea what to do, except follow her out of Portable G. She’s waiting outside, her lips puffy and her eyes small. “What you said is not true,” she protests. “I’ve never forgotten about you.”

“These last couple of months have sucked,” I say honestly. “I feel like your pimp.” Audrey’s mouth drops, but I keep blabbing. “And now you don’t even care that we’re not going to be together this summer. It’s all about Jersy. It’s completely gross the way you guys are always crawling all over each other.” I want to bite back the words, but they’re already gone, and Audrey yanks her head away like we were never friends to begin with.

“I’m sorry.” I grab for her arm, and then I’m crying, like a complete moron, blubbering away in the space between Portables F and G like I’ll never be able to stop.

Audrey sucks in her breath and hugs me. “Calm down, Finn.

It’s okay.” She smoothes her hand over my back. “This isn’t fair, you know. I’m the one that’s being sent away for the summer like some kind of juvenile delinquent. You should be comforting me.”

“I know,” I mumble. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, you did,” Audrey says. “You think I don’t know you?” She pinches my arm. “Look, we’re both going to survive this summer. You can work your ass off and buy your own record store.” I smile at her through my tears, disgusted with myself for being such a suck. “Hang out with Jersy,” she adds. “Make sure he hangs on to a couple of brain cells.”

“What about you?” I sniffle. “What’re you going to do in Gatineau?”

“I don’t know.” Audrey pouts. “My cousins are thirteen and twelve, and my aunt and uncle are the kind of people who go to church every Sunday. Maybe I can join Abel’s Youth Group when I get back.”

“This summer is going to set a new record for shittiness,” I say vehemently.

“Yeah.” Audrey shakes her head. “I can’t believe you said we were gross—after all the drooling you did over Record Store Guy. You would’ve been on him like a rash if you’d had the chance.”

“I know,” I say humbly. “It’s just—being around it all the time is weird. Every time I’m with you two, it’s like you’d rather be alone.”

“That’s only because we can never
be
alone. You know it wasn’t like that before my parents banned me from seeing him.” Audrey tugs at my sleeve and gets us walking in the direction of the main building. “Anyway, it’s not something you’ll have to worry about anymore. They’re never going to let me see him now.”

I stop walking and stare at her. “So that’s it? You’re giving up.”

“I’m not giving up.” Audrey stops too. “But what can I expect?

You think Jersy’s still going to be waiting for me come September? And even if he was, we’d be caught again by October. So I don’t know what’s going to happen, but this feels like we’re saying goodbye. That’s why …” She turns, crossing her arms in front of her. “That’s why it’s so hard. You and me won’t have this summer, but me and Jersy might not have
anything.”

I’m the worst friend in the world; I’ve only been thinking about myself. I’d never have survived this year at school without Audrey. Then it hits me that this is the final day of class. I could still run into Adam during exams, but it’s unlikely. After today I’ll probably never see him inside these walls again. An enormous weight lifts from my shoulders, and I apologize and wrap my arms gratefully around Audrey.

At lunch she disappears with Jersy as usual, and later in art class he shuffles by me. “Hey,” I say, grabbing his arm. The stupid thing is that I have nothing to follow it.

“Hey,” he says blankly. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Sure.” I’m surprised he bothered to show; Billy Young and the other stoners are nowhere to be seen. I feel bad for Jersy, sitting there in art on his own, and I lean over and whisper to Jasper that I’m changing seats.

Jasper gives me a puzzled stare, but I slide out of my chair, cross the room, and pull up a seat across from Jersy. He eyes me expectantly, but I have nothing to say. “Audrey wouldn’t skip class,” he complains, shifting his legs restlessly under the table. “She’s been warned by her parents.”

“What’d yours say?” I ask.

“That going behind her parents’ backs isn’t right and we have to respect their decision.” He shrugs as he squints in Mr. Ferguson’s direction. “It’s bullshit. What do her parents think they’re going to do—lock her up every time she meets a guy?”

It’s weird to hear Jersy mention future guys while he’s still in the picture, but I nod, trying hard to be good and make up for my outburst this morning. “I can’t believe they’re sending her away. It totally sucks, but it’s just one summer. You can make up for it in September.”

Jersy stares past me like he’s thinking something that he’s decided not to share. He folds his arms in front of him and slumps in his chair. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Finn. Audrey and I have been through it a hundred times already. There’s nothing else to say.”

“Sorry.” Doesn’t he know he’s supposed to let me be big about this? “I just thought—”

“I know. It’s okay.” He shifts in his seat. “I think I’m gonna take off anyway.”

“Are you sure?” I don’t know if I’m supposed to let him go or not. It’s a basic thing and I have no idea. “Where’re you gonna go?”