Chapter 16: If by nightmare you mean latest wet dream
"It just doesn't make any sense."
Two weeks later and Morty and I were leaning against the lockers. He was avoiding Chuck Morris, who wanted biology homework, and I was simply avoiding life.
"It just doesn't make any sense," he repeated. "You're the prettiest girl I know," said Morty, sucking on a strand of his hair. I had poured out my life story and he was feeling appropriately sympathetic.
"Oh Morty, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." I pulled his hair away from his mouth and pulled him into a hug.
"Indy…" he choked out. "I have severe asthma and you're cutting off the air to my lungs."
"Oh sorry." I stepped back abruptly and held his hand instead, smiling happily. At least Morty could appreciate me, even if Wally and Cole could not. Then a thought occurred to me as I looked Morty up and down. "Ugh, Morty, how many girls do you actually know?"
He was deep in thought for several moments. "Two." That was slightly depressing, but at least I was first.
"Well, one if you don't include my mom," he added, putting his hard back into his mouth.
"Oh." Well, at least he thought I was prettier than his mom.
"Actually," he said, giving it some thought. "Perhaps my mom is a little prettier. She was a beauty queen, after all." He glowed with pride. "She won Miss Pig Breeder of Indiana in 1980."
God, my life was depressing.
Morty was 5'1" and a diligent member of the science club. He was also not particularly tactful.
I sighed. "Thanks Morty."
"You're welcome." He smiled, delighted by his ability to comfort the broken hearted.
Suddenly, I felt a whoosh of cold air as Wendy came running around the corner. "Oh, Indy! Thank God." She gave Morty a cursory glance, her eyes reflecting disgust. "Ugh, do you know how much, like, bacteria and dust your hair must collect on a daily basis. Not to mention the fact that you obviously are not a regular hair washer." Morty hastily pulled the incriminating brown lock from his mouth.
"Wendy!" I cried appalled. "That was so mean."
"Sorry," she said sheepishly, before launching herself at me. "I've missed you. Can you pretty please forgive me for being blatantly honest and trying to help you understand how pathetic you were acting?"
It wasn't the best apology, but I would take it. I returned the hug. "I've missed you too and I'm sorry for realizing that you are super mean and for exposing the fact that you were obviously very jealous of my relationship with Wally."
She laughed. "Right. Apology accepted." Then she started pulling me towards the bathroom.
"Oh, Morty, I'll be right back!" I called out, helpless to resist Wendy's pull.
Once in the bathroom, a stream of incoherency poured out. "Wendy, you're probably going to have to slow down a little."
"Eddie….proposed!" she said, gasping.
I didn't know whether to say congratulations, or throw up. I did neither. "Um, isn't that a little soon Wendy?"
"What is time really?" She said dreamily.
"Um, a system or measurement to record the interval between events?" I suggested.
She ignored me. "It was beautiful. I was standing by the water fountain-"
"Oh my God! Were you drinking the water from the fountain?" I demanded, fearful for her life. I checked my watch, trying to determine how much time she had left before she rolled over and died, if that was the case.
"God no. I was checking my reflection in the metallic spout," she said, as if that answer were completely reasonable. "Anyways, so I was standing by the fountain when all of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around, looked down and there he was- my knight in shining armour. The first thing he said to me was: 'Do you know where Indy is?' I was sort of confused until he handed me a flower and I realized he just wanted to make sure you weren't around so he could, you know, propose. I guess he figured if you saw that he had moved on, you would probably throw yourself over a cliff or something."
There were no words. Absolutely no words. "Please continue," I said quickly, "before I, you know, do something rash, like, perhaps, throw myself over a cliff."
She nodded. "So anyways, the rest was sort of a blur, I was so stunned that he had gotten me a rose that I sort of couldn't hear what he was saying."
"Wait, you're saying you were deafened by love?" I asked skeptically.
She sighed. "Okay, fine. Maybe that was putting it a little dramatically. We were in the cafeteria and there was a fight going on. Things got a little loud and I had a hard time hearing him. So anyways, he handed me over this promise ring and mouthed the words 'Please marry me.'" She put her hands to her lips in ecstasy. "It was perfect. My heart just about stopped. And then, my wonderful lover walked away."
There were so many things wrong with her story that I didn't know where to begin. "Let me see this ring." She handed over the metal crap, clearly squeezed into the shape of a circle by Eddie's hands.
She smiled. "It's obviously just a promise ring. But, just knowing that he sees a future with me, gets me all giddy."
"What did Kim say when you showed her this."
Wendy's smile fell a little. "She sort of thinks I'm delusional…and questions my sanity. But, other than that, she is so for it."
Wendy had lost it. Clearly.
Having nothing left to say, I pulled her out of the bathroom and came face to face with the most devastating sight I'd ever seen: poor Morty was being harassed by Chuck. More devastating than that though, was the object that Chuck was in the middle of crushing: Morty's new state-of-the-art pen with thirteen different colours, a solar clock and the ability to tell your mood. Well, actually, it couldn't tell your mood, but once Morty had started describing the pen to me, I had started zoning out and focusing on his lips. He got so sexy when he described pens.
"Chuck, let him go." I grabbed at his arm but he shook me of.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Your worst nightmare?" I tried to deepen my voice, but the strain caused the last word to squeak.
He seemed skeptical at best, about to laugh at worst. "Right. If by nightmare you mean my latest wet dream."
I glanced at Wendy, wondering if she would come to my aid. No. She was watching the confrontation with disinterest, occasionally admiring her promise ring and holding up to the light.
Morty, wheezed out a: "Indy, it's alright. Go on without me."
Wendy agreed. "Come on Indy. You heard him. He doesn't need us. Let's go." I checked to see if she was actually serious. She was. "I want to go show off my ring," she added, as clarification.
"I want the biology homework you promised!" yelled Chuck, pulling at Morty's suspenders then snapping them against his bony body.
"Hey Chuck, crazy idea. Why don't you try doing the biology homework yourself?" I suggested. He seemed so stunned by the idea that he let go of Morty abruptly, causing him to fall to the ground in a heap.
"I…" he stopped, as if considering. "I never really thought of that."
"Really?" I became hopeful. Perhaps there was potential in Chuck after all.
What he said next was unexpected. "No, you stupid bitch. If I wanted to do the biology homework myself, don't you think I would?"
I supposed he had a point. But, I didn't take the time to tell him that. "Morty, run!" I yelled, grabbing onto his suspenders once I remembered that nerds are not really known for their physical fitness, agility and general speed.
Fortunately, neither are 5'8" three hundred pound bullies.
Part Two: You should probably leave that kind of stuff to me
"So," I said to Kim, watching as she flipped through my CD collection. "We have a tremendous amount of things to talk about, including our friend's loss of sanity."
The fight had been forgotten the minute she'd stepped through the door.
"Britney Spears?" she asked, disgusted. She stopped me before I could explain. "I really don't think I want to hear it. There is no reasonable explanation for this being here."
"Kim! Britney Spears is an artiste, a poet, a revolutionary. Her words are so relevant to today's issues. Take for instance how she addressed the struggle teenage girls." I began to sing. " 'I'm not a girl/Not yet a women/All I need is time, a moment that-' "
"No, what you need is better taste in music." Kim threw the CD onto my bed, then wiped her hands on her jeans. "I feel so dirty." Her matter-of-fact tone brought me down from my Britney induced high.
"Kim, what do you think we should do about Wendy?" I sat down on my bed, bringing my knees up to my chest.
Kim laughed, whipping the latest Vogue from her tote. "Wendy has definitely lost it, but she'll get it back in a few days. Remember Roger Caruggo?"
I gasped. "Oh my God. I totally forgot about Roger." Roger was our janitor, who we also suspected had gotten involved in the mafia. Wendy declared that she had fallen in love at first sight. This led to her hiding behind his bushes for two or three months, stealing mops from the storage closet in hopes of touching the same tools that he had touched, and finally, the episode climaxed in his threatening to press charges. It was all very disturbing.
"That is actually slightly reassuring."
"Hmm." Kim was examining the magazine page intently. "Oh, and Cole's been looking for you. It's verging on the point of desperate. You should probably just give up and just take it all off."
"What do you mean? Take what off?" I was distracted as I peered over her shoulder in wonder at a stunning red dress draped over Natalie Portman's killer figure.
"Your clothes, before he, you know, rips them off of you."
My mouth opened and closed a few times before I stuttered out a: "Kim, that was not even funny."
Her voice remained steady. "You know I don't joke Indy," she said seriously.
"Good, because as we can both clearly see, you are not very good at it."
"Okay." We continued to flip through the fashion pages until I could last no longer.
"When you say 'looking for you', what exactly do you mean?"
"What do you mean? It means exactly what the verb 'looking' entails." She tried to hide a smile. I was suddenly wary. When Kim smiled, bad things happened. "The last time he asked, and I said I had no idea where you were, his exact words were: 'Fuck. Okay, fine, but tell her that I'm going to find her, and that when I do, the games are over. Done.' And then he paused for a second before telling me that I should probably tell you to be scared." The smile came out in full force, which was sort of blinding. Kim's smile was the stuff of Colgate commercials. "It was cute."
"Next time, tell him to go find Sarah so she can comfort him." I wrapped my arms around my knees, satisfied that I had been sufficiently original in my answer.
Kim's mouth parted a little in shock. "Wow Indy. Was that an attempt at being witty and scornful? You should probably leave that kind of stuff to me."
Several seconds passed before she added: "You know, Cole and Sarah are just friends."
This was followed by several more seconds passing before I asked: "How do you know?"
"We talk. We used to be best friends, you know? Before she turned into a…" She didn't need to finish the sentence.
"The evidence is glaringly obviously, mon amie." The French I tossed in was an effort to lighten the conversation. "She said they were together before the dance. She also said that they were having wild, passionate sex in her three million dollar bed, underneath her thousand dollar silk sheets, right after they finished mocking and insulting me and my ten dollar bedspread."
"She said all of that?" Kim said, sarcastically.
"Well, Okay," I conceded. "Perhaps I'm exaggerating a little." I paused. "Or, perhaps a lot. But, that was the gist of it."
"Are we talking about the same Sarah?" Kim asked, her frustration seeping into her words. Agitated Kim was a dangerous Kim, because she rarely let herself get upset.
I hastily backed up. "I don't know. Sarah with the 600 dollar shoes? Sarah with the sultry brown hair? Sarah with the attitude? Sarah with the boobs?" I gestured with my hands, hoping my point was obvious.
Her voice got mean and bitter. "Sarah with the abusive father?"
A/N Wow. I am so sorry. This update took a lot longer than expected. I'm guessing the majority of you guys gave up on me. I wish I had a better excuse that college applications, scholarship applications and the stress of senior year, but that's about it.
Thank you so much for your patience and the reviews. I did keep reading the reviews, and to those who threatened to kill me, maim me or do other mental and emotional harm...thanks. I lived with a guilty conscience. :) Better late than never, though, right?