Way to Go (3 page)

“Fine,” I said, “let's go.”

Reluctantly, I followed him down to the backyard, where I opened another beer. I was starting to feel pretty good when all of sudden somebody tugged at my elbow from behind.

“Hey, you!” From the way Michelle was swaying, I could tell that she was even drunker than I was.

“Oh, hey, Michelle…”

She reached up and gave me a big hug, which she held a bit longer than necessary. Behind her back, Jay winked at me and then took off into the crowd, laughing.

“Yeah…hey, Michelle!” I repeated. “Congratulations on graduating. You still going to Toronto for university?”

“Yep.”

Looking up at me with her goofy sideways grin, big sparkly eyes and rosy cheeks, she reminded me of one of Alma's old Cabbage Patch dolls. She held out her bottle of fruity wine and I took a swig, wishing for the millionth time that I could get away with drinking delicious girl booze instead of shitty warm beer.

“So, hey, great party, huh?” I said.

“Ummm…Danny, can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

“Uh, sure.”

She grabbed me by the hand, and before I knew what was happening, she was pulling me toward a shed in the shadows at the back of the yard. Just before she dragged me behind it, I looked helplessly back at the crowd and saw Kierce grinning like a maniac and holding up three fingers. Rule Three: the Golden Rule. I wondered if he'd had anything to do with this. My back was up against the shed, and Michelle was standing uncomfortably close to me, still smiling her goofy smile. She smelled like booze and strawberries.

“I miss you, Danny.”

I laughed awkwardly and downed the rest of my beer, then reached into my backpack to grab another one. “Hey, you want a beer?” I asked.

“No, I'm good.” She held up her wine bottle. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, of course. I miss you too, Michelle…” I trailed off. What the hell was I supposed to say?

“Really?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Because I'm moving away in a couple of months, and I've been thinking about—you know—unfinished business. Anyway, I know you're kind of shy, but maybe we just got off on the wrong foot.”

She moved closer, wrapping her arms around my waist. Then she closed her eyes and stood on her toes, reaching up to kiss me. Instinctively, I reached out to hold her back, forgetting I had a beer in my hands. She squealed and jumped away as warm beer spilled onto her hair and down the back of her shirt.

“Shit, I'm so sorry!” I said.

“Oh my god! Did you do that on purpose?”

“Of course not!”

“What the hell, Danny? I can't believe you'd pour a drink over me to avoid messing around!”

I didn't know what to say, so I just stood there, my beer slowly sudsing over the top of the bottle.

“You know what, Danny? Maybe it's true what people say about you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Well, it's not like there are all kinds of girls throwing themselves at you. It's just kind of weird that you don't seem interested.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Forget it. Have a great summer, asshole!” She gave me a dirty look before heading back to the party. I wondered if I should follow her, but I was kind of reeling from what she'd said. What
exactly
did “what people say about you” mean? Suddenly Jay appeared around the corner of the shed.

“There you are. What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh, you know, just hangin' out behind the woodshed.”

“You coming back to the party? Ferris just threw his folks' picnic table into the fire. He's pretty loaded.”

“I know the feeling. I'll be out in a minute.”

He pulled out a cigarette and lit up. “You okay?”

“Yep. Yepperoo.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, but thankfully, he didn't pry. Above the noise of the party came the sound of angry yelling. Jay looked back around the corner of the shed. “Fight,” he said. “Wanna go watch?”

“Hang on,” I said. “I gotta lake a teak. Take a leak.” I stood up, swaying.

“Shit, Danny, how much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, you know, four or five beers.”

“We've only been here an hour!”

“I've still got a couple left.”

“Well, slow down, or you'll end up puking.”

“Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec.”

I took care of business, and we walked back over to the crowd that had gathered around what was now a full-fledged brawl. Ferris and some other goons were throwing haymakers at some guys I didn't recognize. Probably a hockey team from the next town over.

“This is awesome!” I said, and then yelled to nobody in particular, “GET THEM!”

Jay looked at me funny, and then Maisie Thomas ran up and poked Jay in the chest. “Guys are all the same. Fight, drink, screw. Soooo stupid!” She stopped and looked at me. “Oh hey, Danny. I wasn't talking about you. You're nice.”

“Uh, thanks,” I said. Maisie was in our class, but I didn't really know her very well.

“What's that supposed to mean?” asked Jay, laughing. “I'm nice too, aren't I?”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said, “but you smoke cigarettes. I guess you think that makes you a badass or something.”

“Nope,” said Jay, flashing a big grin at her. “I just think it makes me look really sexy and cool.”

“Whatever, Jay,” she said, rolling her eyes but giggling at him anyway. She stumbled off into the crowd.

The fight wound down as quickly as it had begun, and I saw Ferris and one of the guys he'd just been fighting with give each other a man hug. The other guy asked Ferris, “Can I make some toast, dude?”

The excitement was over, and people got back to dancing around the fire. Kierce worked his way out of the crowd and over to us.

“Kierce!” I yelled. I raised my beer to greet him, but he wasn't smiling.

“Way to go, man,” he said. “I just talked to Michelle. She basically told me that she wanted to get busy with you behind the shed, and you poured beer over her head and told her she was ugly!”

“That's not what happened!”

“Well, whatever happened, it sounds like you probably could have gotten laid, no strings attached, and you decided to run away, squealing like a little queer.”

“Hey!” said Jay. “Take it easy, man!”

“You know what, Kierce?” I said, “It's none of your goddamn business. Besides, I don't remember you getting lucky recently.”

“Yeah, well, the difference is, I try. I hate to break it to you, buddy, but people say shit about you, and I'm getting kind of sick of defending your ass. Rule Thirty-five: Turn down enough girls and people are going to stop suspecting that you're a fag and start assuming that you're a fag.”

I glared at him for a moment, my mind spinning. There was nothing to say, so I turned and walked away from him, away from the party. Away from everything.

FOUR

I'd walked a few blocks by the time Jay caught up with me. “Kierce feels pretty bad, man.”

I didn't look at him. “Whatever. I'm happy to know what people think about me.”

“Dan, nobody thinks anything.”

“Well, Michelle thinks I'm queer. And so does Kierce, apparently!” I turned to him. “Do you?”

I wanted him to tell me that he didn't care either way. That being gay was no big deal. Instead he said, “Of course I don't. But you know what girls are like. They talk about everything. You turn a couple of them down, and they start thinking you're weird. But who cares? I know you, and you know you, and that's all that matters, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Besides,” he went on, “what do you care what people say about you?”

Easy for him to say. Jay had no problem sliding through life with his big old grin. He hadn't grown up wondering what was wrong with him, terrified that if people knew the truth, he'd be mocked and beat up, hated by everyone. I didn't answer him.

“Do you want to go back to the party?” he asked.

“No way.”

“Me neither. Let's go back to my place. We'll grab something to eat and play Super Metroid.”

We walked on in silence, taking shortcuts through backyards and weed-filled empty lots. When we were a few blocks from his house, Jay ducked behind a building to pee. I pulled a beer out of my bag and cracked it, then strolled around the corner to wait for him. I was mid-chug when the colored lights of a cop car flashed on.

Instead of running, I froze, and before I knew it, Kierce's dad, Officer LaVoie, was getting out and walking over to me. Jay was nowhere to be seen. I hoped he'd seen the lights and taken off in the other direction.

Kierce's dad shone his flashlight at my beer and then up into my face. I could tell by the way his eyes widened that he was surprised to see me. He put his hand on my back and directed me over to the car.

“Why don't you go ahead and open up your bag, Danny,” he said.

Reluctantly, I unzipped it, revealing my one remaining can of beer. He opened the back door to the car and told me to get in.

I sank miserably into the backseat. Officer LaVoie ignored me, shuffling through papers for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, he turned around to face me.

“So, Danny, you out for a bit of fun tonight?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“The beer's yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, that's what I figured.” He made a quick call on his radio, but he spoke in some kind of cop code, and I couldn't understand what he was saying.

“So here's what we're gonna do,” he said when the call was over. “I have to give you a fine for underage drinking.”

I dropped my head and managed to stifle a depressed belch.

“You're seventeen?”

I nodded.

“Okay, that means I won't have to call and wake up your parents. You're old enough to deal with this yourself.” He took a few minutes to fill out a carbon-paper form, then he ripped off the pink copy and handed it through the grill to me. “Now, you want a ride home?”

I couldn't tell him that I was staying at Jay's house, in case he waited around for Jay to show up, so I agreed.

He let me out of the backseat so I could sit up front, and then he drove me all the way to my house and dropped me off at the foot of my driveway.

“I'm gonna make a suggestion, Dan,” he said as I was getting out of the car. “If I were you, I'd come clean with your folks. It'll probably save you a bunch of bullshit down the road.”

THE NEXT MORNING
, I woke up with a pounding headache. After a couple of foggy moments, I began to remember the night before. I lay in bed for a few minutes, considering Kierce's dad's advice. I decided he was right and dragged my ass downstairs to face the music.

Mom listened to the whole story—minus the part about what Kierce had said to me—and then sighed. “Danny, I really don't have time to worry about this stuff right now.”

“You don't have to worry, seriously!”

“Oh really?” she said. “You get picked up by the cops for underage drinking, and I'm not supposed to worry?”

“It's true, Danny,” said Alma. “Hooch is dangerous. One minute you're enjoying a refreshing gimlet with your chums, and the next you're lying facedown in a ditch with puke all over your fedora. Haven't you seen
Days of Wine
and Roses
?”

“Where did you
come
from?” I asked her.

“Alma, sweetie, why don't you go up to your room so I can talk to Danny privately,” said Mom.

“‘Story of my life,'” Alma said. “‘I always get the fuzzy end of the lollipop.'” She clomped up the stairs.

Mom poured herself a cup of tea and sat down at the table across from me.

“So what are we going to do about this?” she asked me.

“I don't know. Ground me, I guess?”

“I might have a better idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your dad has been suggesting for a while that it's time you got a job. I didn't think it was necessary, but now I'm starting to think it's a good idea.”

Typical of my old man to decide what was best for me without my input.

“A job?” I asked. I'd always figured I'd get one after high school to help pay for university or whatever, but it had never occurred to me that I should get one any sooner. It wasn't like Deep Cove was crawling with jobs.

She went on. “I don't like the idea of you bumming around town all summer, getting into trouble just because there isn't anything better to do. Anyway, it turns out that I might have a lead for you.”

“What do you mean, a lead?” I asked skeptically.

“You know the Burger Shack?” she asked.

“It's closed!”

“I know that, but it's not going to stay closed for long; it's just not going to be the Burger Shack anymore. I ran into an old high school classmate of mine the other day, Denise Turner. She's back in town, and she's bought the building. She plans on turning it into a restaurant.”

“It's already a restaurant.”

“I mean a real restaurant, with tables and chairs and a patio. With an actual menu. Not just burgers and fries. Anyway, she's cleaning the place out, and she's looking for some help so she can open as soon as possible.”

“I don't know,” I said. “What kind of stuff would I be doing?”

“First you'd be helping get the place ready, but she told me that she'd be willing to hire you on after that to help out. Maybe you'll wait tables, or help in the kitchen, who knows? You'll learn a lot. Denise has worked in some great restaurants. What do you think?”

“I guess so,” I said. It didn't sound like a great idea to me, but I wasn't really in a position to argue.

“Hey, it's not the end of the world. Your father and I both had jobs in high school. Don't you think it could be kind of fun to do something different for the summer?”