Falls Street (3) “Well, I just don’t want it to become a thing, all right?” I said. “What kind of a thing?” he asked. “You know, like a thing everyone knows about,” he said. “Who would I tell,” he said. “I don’t know nobody. Is she cute? You could bring her to the ballgame tonight if you wanted? I don’t know who’s playing or anything, but it’s only double AA so who cares, anyway right?” “No, I don’t really know her at all,” I said. “Really,” he said. “Well, then I take it you haven’t asked her out, then huh?” “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m not sure I want to.” “What’s the matter?” he asked. “I thought you liked this chick?” “I do,” I said. I choked on that for some reason. It all switched over. “I just don’t know if she likes me.” He sighed. “Welcome to me world, kiddo,” he said. “Welcome to all our worlds.” “Yeah,” I said. It’s amazing how much you can know and still have no idea what happens next. “What’s her name pal,” he said. “You know mine, and my whole things with Ronda, right? It’s only fair.” “Sarah,” I said. “Sarah who?” he asked. “Sarah Highroad,” I said. “Oh god,” he said. Then, he laughed for a little while. “You’re fucked.” “I know,” I said. “I know.” *** Chapter 3 – Mr. Breakdown I was in my room pacing back and forth after I hung up the phone. Ray was making me sick with his whole “I’ve been there” spiel. I was thinking about all the ways I could play this thing, all the snags that made each one too painful too consider. No, not painful, but it was tedious. On some official billboard in my head, I had a name stenciled out, and I had to fill in the rest to make it believable. It had been said for whatever reason, and that meant I had to at least live up to it. I thought of Jeff somewhere making his tribute with a bottle and a noose he couldn’t decide on using. I thought of Ray trying to be there all the time, trying to act and look like the nicest guy in the world, and that stuff didn’t seem like a role I was meant for. Sure, I could stay inside and pretend to build a shrine or something, but that wouldn’t bring me anywhere closer to anything. If I decided on the name, then the mission had to be clear, but the method… I could still mess with that. And I had the opportunity to try something that had never been done before. I could go into the whole thing pretending that it mattered, knowing that it didn’t, and whatever happened along the way would just be for the sake of a sick sense of humor. And that’s why I went to the ball game. I told Ray that I thought I might see her there, and I needed his support. After giving me a strong lecture about my being a drag on his chances with his girl, he allowed me to go with only a few stipulations. I wasn’t allowed to say anything that might distract her. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to happen out there. Maybe, I just wanted to see Ray acting all uncomfortable trying to eat nachos without spilling the cheese on his shorts. That was worth the price of admission anyway. Crash was supposed to show up with his crew. We met inside the gates. And it felt very strange. For a few minutes, I was standing quietly while we waited for Crash. In a little half circle, Ray and I and some other people, who were now the world, were just waiting. I didn’t pay attention to anything that they said, but I did feel something. As much as I resented the distance and the changes within our group, it still felt like the home team for a minute there. I could watch Ray fail a million times, and I could laugh every time, and I could be jealous of everything he ever gets, too, but the bottom line really was that we were supposed to be friends. That had to mean something. Of course, I have no idea what. It’s the same reason you feel good inside when someone from your hometown becomes famous. Even if he was an asshole, and you still wish you were famous, part of you feels like you’re famous, too. I watched Ray work with the girl, successes and failures, and obvious patterns emerged. I stayed quiet and laughed when he said something funny. Every once in a while, I could feel him getting somewhere. She wasn’t staring at him or moving her head like one of those sluts on TV. She was just sitting there, existing, responding, and mostly, talking. This girl could blab. She started talking about colleges and majors and bullshit. She had seven different career tracks planned out right down to the type of desk she wanted to buy for her home office or the amount of money she’d be willing to pay for an apartment in LA while she’s working as a couple’s dance instructor. It was all very interesting. Well, not very interesting stuff anyway, but it was interesting to watch Ray trying to memorize it all by repeating stuff she said. With words coming out that damn fast, I doubt she could remember half of what she said that night, anyway. That could be a good thing. He could always bring up something about wanting to save the dolphins that got trapped in the tuna, and she, having forgotten that she said something about it before, would see what a sensitive guy he is. It’s really quite magical. Of course, this is only the data collection part. What comes after involves some research. She talked for a half hour about this musical called Rent, and Ray agreed with everything she said. He even said that the lead actor was “quite a guy” when she went on and on about him being “sooo cute.” When she went to the bathroom, Ray leaned over and asked me, “What do you know about this Rent, shit?” “I don’t fucking know, dude?” I said, and then I remembered, “Oh shit dude, I do know something. That guy Stevie Wonder did a song on the soundtrack.” “How do you know that?” he asked, and his nachos almost spilled on his crotch. He caught it just in time. “Remember that report we had to do on a successful African American?” I asked. “That’s right,” he said. “So, do you think I’m getting somewhere?” “No,” I said. “Thanks a lot,” he said. “At least I’m making an effort.” “Yeah,” I agreed. “You haven’t even gone over to talk to her,” he said. “But, I wouldn’t anyway, because… I hate to say it, she’s gunna cut you down, man. I’m sorry.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “I mean she’s out of your league,” he said. “Who is?” Crash asked leaning forward. “Jason been bit by the love bug?” “I don’t know,” Ray said. “I think he’s just been dropped on his head or something.” “Why?” Crash asked. “Is she some kind of high class girl, takes showers regularly, picks out her own clothes… that sort of thing?” “No,” Ray said. “Let’s just say she’s taken.” “Really?” I asked. “By who?” “Well, I don’t know,” Ray said. “By somebody, I’m sure. I didn’t see her come in on anyone’s arm or anything, but I’m sure…” “She is here, then?” I asked. “Yeah, man,” he said. “I tried to point her out to you, earlier but you were watching the game.” There are reasons to pay attention to your surroundings. Oh well. “All right, then,” I said. “All right, what?” Crash asked. “Are you going to go show her some of your moves, throw her some cool looks, and give her a ‘hey, baby let’s go back to my place?’” “Maybe,” I said. “This ought to be good,” Crash said. “I’d do with you, but I don’t like moving once I’ve got my food all lined up.” “Whatever,” I said. “This won’t take long anyway.” “Jason!” Ray called down to me from the bleachers as I was leaving. “Don’t do it man, really. This isn’t going to be good, and you know it.” I smiled and laughed. The feeling overtook me real fast, too, ‘cause I ended up spitting. They looked at me like I was totally nuts. I knew the second I stepped away Ray was going to tell Crash who the girl was. I was fine with that. I dodged all these bodies on my way. All around me was proof that sex happened just like the cars in the parking lot. I smiled at strangers thinking about how the every square inch of the planet almost must have been hit with sex, people sex, animal sex, plant sex. It was all racing around, and the evidence was everywhere. It wasn’t a myth. The reality of it was so heavy, and while I was thinking about it, I realized that I was evidence, too. Somewhere, my parents had, her parents had, even Crash’s parent’s had. When you step back and think about it, it’s all really ridiculous. Why be nervous about whether or not sex is going to happen? Look around you. It’s probably the most probable thing to happen between people. The only thing that’s difficult in any degree, the only thing that is not a natural absolute, is proximity. Crash could get it with a bag. Ray could get it by saying the right things. For some damn reason, I was feeling like some weird space man traveling through the crowd, cutting paths through the bodies, asserting my right to exist by brushing chests with old men trying to get to the concession stands. I felt like I could just reach out and take it. I felt like being around was just a matter of being impervious, and the only way to be that is to stop caring. Sooner or later, you have to decide whether every girl in your life is going to be a contribution to a blur in your memory or something real. Even if I failed, that would be a real experience. I could look at her, remember what I want and forget what I want. And I went there to look at her tits. I went out there hoping she was wearing a short black shirt. The rest, whatever she said, whatever she did, that’s all just details. In one of the front rows, I found her sitting with a group of her girlfriends and Randy Ruth was clinging to one of them swinging her back and forth on his lap. I could hear Kyle behind them whining about the home team losing. Until then, I had almost forgotten there was even a game going on. “Hey, asshole,” Kyle said. “Why are you standing in front of us, we’re trying to watch the game here.” I smiled. That’s when I started to wonder whether or not I was crazy. Randy gave me a look like he was about ready to throw his girlfriend at me. I could easily imagine that caveman bastard swinging her by the ankles like a baseball bat. I smiled at him, too. Then, I turned my head over to Sarah Highroad, not her so much as her knees. She was wearing carpenter shorts, nice and tight. “Yo!” Randy said. It was a warning Yo. He wasn’t quite prepared to get up and wrap me alongside the head. “Hey, Jason,” someone said. Sarah noticed my eyes, I thought. She squirmed in her seat. I didn’t look to see who said hey. Sarah was moving, and I was busy setting it down in my memory. “What are you doing here?” Sarah asked. “Watching the game,” I said getting a real good look at her face. She looked like she was waiting for someone to hit me, almost shocked that no one had.
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