Texts from Bennett (33 page)

I asked for her number, hoping she’d be turned off and not want to give me it. Of course, that didn’t work. She wrote Rosemary with five hearts, a few xo’s, and a kiss mark on a napkin and tucked it into my pocket shirt in a gesture that I guess some might call sexy . . . ish. If a guy wanted to hook up with her, all he’d have to do would be call her hair fake, then sit there listening to her talk for twenty minutes, and he was in.

After she got up and left, I smacked my head against the bar. Was I seriously going to be unable to date women now because I knew too much about how to attract them?

“Careful,” a voice said. A nice voice. I sat up and looked to my left. “I don’t want you to break the bar. I come here a lot.”

She was sitting at the table behind my stool with some friends. She was a tan, Asian-mixed dainty girl, with hypnotic black hair
and a flawless face. I mean a
flawless
face. Her eyes morphed into different shapes when she blinked, and she had an absence of a facial expression. This was a paradox. Negative beauty. An overflowing void of gorgeousness.

“What about my head?” I asked.

“That? I guess I’ll have to put my drink on it if you break the bar,” she said.

She had on a faded V-neck T-shirt with stripes on the sleeves, fly blue jeans, and Chuck Taylors with Jolly Roger patterns visible on the tongue. She was on the outer edge of her group of friends, who were distracted by drunken mischief at the opposite of the two tables they had occupied.

“I’m going to sit next to you,” I said.

“Then I suppose I’m going to sit next to you,” she said.

“Well, how though? Because I’m the one who’s going to be moving to sit next to you.”

“I know. But by default if you sit next to me, I’ll be sitting next to you.”

She had brownish-hazel irises and an hourglass torso that indented just below her ribs and contoured back out down her hips.

“Mac,” I said, sticking my hand out. I slid into the empty chair next to her.

“Christina,” she said, shaking my hand.

“Well, Christina, I was cracking my skull because I’m freshly broken up with and came out to meet girls using all these tactics my seventeen-year-old cousin taught me. The funny thing is that now that I know them and have this crazy level of confidence, I’m not really into any of the ones I meet.”

“Oh. You didn’t like the red-haired girl with the horrible witch laugh?”

“No. I didn’t like that girl very much.”

“I don’t blame you. So what are these tactics you speak of? I’ve recently decided to turn lesbian, so it’d be nice to know how to get chicks.”

She was drinking a beautifully colored IPA.

“Why are you turning lesbian?”

“Because I dated a very mean guy recently. Who said some very mean things to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he say?”

“Tell me some tactics first. Fair trade or no deal.”

She was so beautiful.
She smelled like lavender and winter rain.

“Okay. One of them is to focus on being a girl’s friend more than anything. Because being a girl’s friend is the most important thing.”

“Okay, yeah, but that’s boring. Give me something good.”

“Why is that boring?”

“Because it doesn’t take a genius to know that couples are best friends first. Unless guys think married couples have sex, raise kids, and live with each other but never interact or do things as friends.”

I felt physical pain looking at her.

“Okay. Uh. A better one is to never ask girls questions. Because it’s like a job interview. To tell them statements about me, but never ask about them.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It is?”

“Yes. How will you ever get to know them?”

“I don’t really know. . . .” I took a sip of beer. “I think the idea is that over time more stuff will be revealed? About her?”

“Sounds to me like these guys like to get with girls who like to be treated like crap. There’s nothing wrong with asking a girl what she likes.”

“Hmm. Do you like 2Pac?”

“Yeah, I love 2Pac. But my favorite rapper is Bun B from UGK.”

She was the most beautiful girl in the city.
And she loved UGK—Underground Kingz. The greatest Texas rap duo of all time.

“UGK is my favorite group too,” I said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. But let’s not talk about music yet. I like where this is go—”

“I’d really like to find an awesome guy who would put headphones
on my pregnant tummy while he played UGK to our progeny. You seem into that. By the way, so I don’t sound egotistical, I am too. You’re interesting. And I’m drunk.”

She was the most beautiful girl I’ve met in years.

Drunkenly, she just assumed that I liked her, and drunkenly just admitted that she liked me. Well, was intrigued by me. We accidentally found out that we love the same music. She wanted kids too.

“Okay, so I’m curious about what you think about this one. Pretend that you have a dead ex-girlfriend named Leah. So if a girl acts like she doesn’t like you, you can make her jealous with your long-lost dead love.”

“That’s horrible!”

“Yeah?”

“Do people not have respect for death anymore? Death isn’t something to joke about.”

“It’s not a joke. It’s just a way to draw attention. But I guess I see what you’re—”

“Okay, so the guy who I was dating? That I told you about?”

“Yeah?”

“He was such a dick. He joked about death. Something personal to me. And it really offended me. And he did it because he felt like I wasn’t into him enough.”

“What did he say?”

“I’d rather not actually repeat it.”

“Okay . . . uh . . . well, why did it upset you? What was it about?”

“Just someone close to me.”

“Who died?”

“Yep.”

“Who?”

“My mom.”

She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever met in my entire life.

“Your mom is dead?”

“Yep.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“So is mine. She died in 2004. I watched it happen. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever gone through and apparently the worst thing you’ve ever gone through too.”

She studied my face for a second and lifted her beer to toast.

“Well, sorry for your loss, Mac.”

“I’m sorry for your loss too, Christina,” I toasted back in return.

She surveyed the room to give herself a moment of settling into the new information. I watched her body submit to the stings and bites of painful emotions she was neutralizing. The only reason I knew her body was doing this was because mine had done it so many times.

“So uh . . .” she said, then awkwardly sustained the “uh” because she didn’t know what to say next.

“You know, I have all these new dating tactics and theories, and there’s a bunch of social conventions I’ve had beat into me in the past, but, for some reason, I think I either just kinda fell in love with you in a totally just-met-you kinda way, or maybe just became a close friend of yours, or both. And I didn’t even use any of the tactics.”

“Haha. That’s funny. I understand what you mean. Death is a weird thing to have in common with someone.”

“Especially when you are entranced by the other person’s beauty.”

“You’re making me blush. I’m starting to wonder if this is just a tactic of yours.” She squinted her eyes just slightly and leaned back a little.

“Definitely not.”

“Well, good. But let’s not fall in love just yet. Let’s fall in like.”

“How do we do that?”

“The normal way. Get to know each other.”

“Okay. Are you normally this easy to attract?”

“Who said I was attracted to you? I just said you could hold headphones up to my stomach, not that I liked you.” She smiled. I couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

To make it worse, her thin brunette friend interrupted from the other table: “I thought we—”

“We’re leaving. Gotta go meet Paula and Vani,” said another friend.

“Okay. Give me a second,” Christina said, scooting out of her chair and taking the last gulp of her beer.

I was in a terrible pickle. How was I going to get her phone number? I didn’t want to turn her off.

She hugged a couple of people, then pulled her purse out of her wallet and counted out a few dollars onto the table. Her friends began exiting the tabled area. She approached me and stood directly in front of me.

“So uh . . .” she said.

“Um. Yeah,” I said. I had no idea what to say or do. A voice in my head was telling me,
Wait through the suspense. Make her give me her number. Don’t fuck this up.

“It was nice to meet you, Mac.”

“Yeah, hey. It was nice to meet you too.” I was saying arbitrary shit, just waiting.

She stood and looked at me silently.

“Well, hopefully next time we’ll have more time to talk?” she ask-said.

What the fuck do I do? Think, think, think. Tactics, Bennett, Leshaun. Think. Game, players, pimps. Think. Don’t break your posture.

She wasn’t reaching for a pen or anything.

Think. Think. Think.

“Yeah, definitely. Have a great night,” I said.

“All right, see ya,” she said as she turned around. She began walking toward the door. My stomach sank and tied itself into a million knots. She was almost to the door.

“Christina, wait!” I blurted out.

“Yeah?” she said, turning around.

I got out of my chair and approached her.

“There’s another tactic I forgot to tell you about.”

“Oh, really?” She smiled at me, like I was going to grace her with one last absurdity. “What’s that one?”

“It says to never ask for a girl’s number. Wait it out. If she wants you to have it, she’ll give it to you.”

She walked back to where I was sitting and leaned against the bar looking at me.

“Well that’s pretty stupid.”

“It is?”

“Of course. Especially because it’s unladylike to force your number upon someone. Especially a boy.”

“Oh, okay. . . .”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

She turned around and walked to the door. Was I supposed to ask now?

“Uh, wait,” I said.

“Yes?” she said.

“So do you have plans tomorrow?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Do you want to come to my house and . . . uhhhhh . . . dude. I have no idea what to say.”

“Haha. No tactics for this situation, eh?”

“I’m starting to maybe realize I drank a little too much of my cousin’s Kool-Aid. Well, other than the fact that he reminded me to just be honest and not overthink it. I dunno, I’m brokenhearted. Or was. So I’m kinda repairing my life. My cousin has some good ideas, but he’s also like fifteen years younger than I am. I don’t kn—”

She put her index finger on my mouth to quiet me.

“Mac,” she said.

“Yeah?” I mumbled through my lips that were sealed by her index finger.

“Ask me for my number.” She dropped her hand.

“Can I get your number? And then take you out tomorrow? Somewhere awesome? While we listen to UGK? And miss our moms? And you won’t say racist shit about black people? And you won’t call my aunt a ‘retard’? And you won’t make fun of my cousin who lies and says he’s thirteen percent black and in the Crips? And you won’t judge me for being a high school dropout?”

She looked up into the corner of her eye, humming, playfully contemplating the question, then refocused her eyes on me.

“Maybe. Do you promise to use it? And take me out tomorrow? Somewhere awesome? While we listen to UGK? And miss our moms? And you won’t crack jokes about the fact that I hug my pillow in my sleep, pretending to hug my mom? And you won’t make Asian jokes? And you won’t be an asshole?”

Yes!

“Yes.”

“Then, yes. Of course you can have it.”

She was the most beautiful girl that’s ever existed in the universe.

Part 7

Wanna go to the gym today?

fuk nah! da jim is gay..niggaz walken aroudn in tights sayin shit like Hi im Todd

i hate doods named Todd

So you’re too tough for the gym?

yep

Bennett I walked in on you peeing sitting down once.

I wuz drunk! gangstaz piss sitten down so we dont stain da nicE floor..idieot

Okay, and that catches us back up to where this little book began, with Mr. Cole irate, my Wi-Fi quite possibly set for a call from the NAACP, and me pondering what to do about Bennett and Lillian.

“Okay. House meeting! Come on, guys! Gather round!” I yelled, moving into the living room near Lillian’s couch.

“Does that mean me?” Leshaun said.

“Yeah, dude,” I said.

Bennett and Leshaun both came into the living room. Aunt Lillian sat forward on the couch.

“Leshaun, where the fuck were you an hour ago when we almost got pummeled by Mr. Cole, my crazy-ass neighbor?” I said.

“I was watchin’. On Crip,” Leshaun said.

“He was. He always is. You can just never see him,” Bennett said.