Kylenevers: Some
MC9010025: So introduce me LOL
Kylenevers: Nah. I’m keeping u 4 myself. LOL
MC9010025: LOL. U think I’m urs huh?
Kylenevers: U tell me
Mandy didn’t know. There was something romantic about not meeting, like they had the chance to really get to know each other before all of the physical stuff started. In English class, Mr. Stahlman talked about two poets who wrote to each other for a long time and by the time they actually met, they were already in love. They didn’t even know what the other looked like, and based solely on letters, lines of text like the ones she read from Kyle, they fell in love. The poets’ names were Elizabeth Barrett and Robert Browning, and their relationship was beautiful and historic. But Mandy had a hard time even thinking about her chats with Kyle as a relationship. Sitting in her desk chair, staring at the screen, she thought it all felt kind of hollow. How could anyone know if the person writing was telling the truth? You had to see someone’s face when they shared their lives with you. Maybe modern people were just more cynical. Maybe it was just Kyle.
MC9010025: Maybe
Kylenevers: Ugh. Another maybe. First the kiss. Now this. U R going 2 b tough, I can tell.
MC9010025: LOL. So, when do u actually leave for Stanford?
Kylenevers: Mon morning. Tomorrow family stuff and packing. Back Fri.
MC9010025: Will u b online?
Kylenevers: I’m always online. LOL
10
Tuesday afternoon in the cafeteria, while Kyle was somewhere in California adding another city to the long list of those he’d visited, Mandy listened while Drew raved about her new boyfriend. Everything was “Jacob said,” and “Jacob did,” and “Jacob thinks.” Laurel was there too, occasionally making faces at Mandy, often shaking her head in wonder. But, for Drew’s benefit, both kept their smiles stretched wide. Neither of them had seen their friend this happy, ever.
“He’s already talking about the prom,” Drew said, her cheeks blossoming with blush for the twentieth time since lunch period started. “The prom! God, do you know what that means?”
“I think it’s a big dance at the end of the school year,” Laurel said.
“Ha, ha,” said Drew, shaking her head in annoyance.
Mandy was suddenly struck with a very odd and kind of funny image. She pictured herself at the prom, amid glittering decorations and flashing lights, dancing with her computer screen. Lines of text rolled over it while a slow number gave a rhythm for her feet. She paused and introduced the computer to her friends.
“Dale,” Laurel whispered.
“What?” Mandy asked, already scoping the cafeteria for him. “Where?”
“At the cola vend.”
Mandy looked across the room over the heads of dozens of kids eating their lunches and found the row of vending machines and Dale sliding a dollar into the one on the far left. Seeing him, even so far away, sent tingles through her body.
“Has he called?” Drew asked.
“No,” Mandy said. “Why would he call?”
“I don’t know. You said he apologized and stuff. I thought he might’ve called.”
Drew was a terrible liar. Fear of getting caught always covered her face like a stain when she tried. She was lying now.
“Drew,” Mandy said, her voice low with warning. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything,” Drew replied, looking down at her lunch. She made to grab for a carrot stick, then tried for a cube of white cheese. Finally, she grabbed her diet soda and shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Did you talk to Dale?” Mandy asked, a tremor of excitement running through her.
“I promised not to say anything,” Drew said into the mouth of her soda.
“Promises to the opposite sex don’t count,” Laurel said. “It’s like making a promise to your dog. Really. That’s the first rule of dating. Now, spill.”
“He called last night,” Drew said, looking sheepishly at Mandy. “He wanted to know if you said anything about Saturday.”
Mandy was suddenly filled with dread, remembering how she’d downloaded everything she felt to Drew that night on the phone. “What did you say?” Mandy asked, now furious with her friend.
“Nothing,” Drew said, cowering behind her soda can.
“Oh? Let’s move on to the torture phase,” Laurel said. In a flash she yanked her cell phone from the pocket of her slacks. “I have a certain Jacob Lurie’s digits. What do you imagine Mandy and I could tell him?”
Wide-eyed, Drew gasped. “You can’t.”
“I see no fundamental difference in each situation,” Laurel replied, rocking the cell phone in her hand casually. “Now, let’s start at the beginning. We’ll decide your punishment later.”
Drew spilled. Her voice trembled and cracked as she told them Dale asked if Mandy said anything about getting back together, and “I totally told him you didn’t.” He’d asked if Mandy still thought he was a jerk, and “I said, you really appreciated his apology and thought it was a cool thing for him to do.” And he asked if Drew thought he should try calling or if that would just piss Mandy off, and “I told him he should call.”
“And?” Mandy asked.
“That’s it,” Drew said. “I swear. He just told me how bad he’s felt since that night and what a screw-up he is and that he didn’t deserve you and stuff.”
“He said that?”
“God, yes. Like fifty billion times.”
“What else?” Laurel asked, jabbing the cell phone at Drew, displaying it like a hand grenade. “Did you mention a certain boy on the Internet?”
“No! God, I’m not stupid.”
“Debatable,” Laurel said.
“Are you sure you didn’t say anything about Kyle?” Mandy needed to know.
“Yes. I swear.”
She was telling the truth. A wave of relief washed over Mandy as she slumped back in her chair. It wasn’t so bad, not nearly as bad as it could have been.
“I’m sorry,” Drew said. “I really am. I just thought you guys made such a great couple and everything, and Jacob and I are so happy, I want you to be happy too.”
“I can be happy without a boyfriend,” Mandy told her.
“Amen,” Laurel said.
“How?” Drew asked.
After school, Mandy waited out front for Laurel. She stood by the school sign, leaning against the concrete post it hung on, wondering what was taking her friend so long. She decided to call and pulled her cell phone from her jacket. She looked at the device with a bit of fear. What if she tried to call Laurel and got a wrong number again? The same wrong number? The memory of crumpling paper static and that rasping voice unnerved her, and she thought about putting the phone away. But she couldn’t let one bizarre accident, probably a crossed signal, rule her life. It was just a coincidence she happened to be in front of the library, alone and in the dark, when the call went through.
