Chapter 8

Help and Hurt

Francine followed Arthur closely as the two weaved their way through the busy lunchroom Monday afternoon. Each held their tray aloft as they walked and talked, careful not to whack the heads of unsuspecting students or risk their trays being upended by an errant classmate engaged in horseplay in the aisle. Today's topic of lunchtime conversation was the same topic as it had been for this morning's conversation as well as every conversation between them since Saturday's Pie-Bowl outing.

"I don't get it," she said loudly so she could be heard over the throng, "Sue Ellen seemed pretty freaking eager to ask you. It's kind of weird that she hasn't."

First thing today, Francine had greeted Arthur, not with a "Hello!" or "Good morning!" or even a "What's going on, loser?" but with, "Have you heard from Sue Ellen yet?" She had even called him about it yesterday evening, sounding desperate to know. It was as if she expected him to keep her updated, as if it were her personal business.

But Arthur had not heard a word from Sue Ellen, neither over the phone nor in person, news that always seemed to perplex and annoy Francine. It was odd to Arthur, too, to be honest. Confrontation of any sort had never been an issue for Sue Ellen, so he had to agree with Francine that, if Sue Ellen intended to ask him to the Autumn Ball, it was weird that she had not done so by now. Arthur was beginning to feel suspicious. Was Francine pulling a prank? That did not make sense; he could not see a motive. Or maybe Francine had misunderstood Sue Ellen in some way, and that was not what Sue Ellen had been asking at all.

"You'd think she would by now. Wouldn't she? She practically handed a permission slip over for me to sign."

"I don't know, Francine."

He was dedicated to being as noncommittal to the subject as he could be, and he was grateful that they were finally approaching their usual table, where Alan and Muffy already sat across from each other. They did not seem to be on unfriendly terms since they were sitting together, but Arthur noticed they were not talking as animatedly as they usually did. Instead, Muffy craned to look around the cafeteria, something she used to do whenever she wanted to make sure others noticed the new outfit she was wearing. Alan stole curious glances at Muffy between bites, but said nothing. Buster showed up on Alan's side of the table, just as Arthur and Francine took a seat side by side next to Muffy.

"What's up, perverts?!" Buster's voice was cheery. He placed his tray on the table and exaggerated a thinking pose, cradling his chin with his thumb and index finger as he surveyed the table's occupants. "Wow…every single one of you looked up. Very telling, especially with this one," he said, slapping Alan on the back.

"I only—" Alan sputtered defensively. "Anyone would— Shut up, man…"

Their table shared a laugh, all except for Muffy, who eyed Alan with caution, waiting for him to laugh before apparently deciding it was okay to join in. Buster sat down and began his meal by tearing his role in half. Before stuffing his face, he asked, "Anything going on after school today?"

"Well," said Arthur, "Francine and I are trying to throw an extra musical practice at her place, but so far we've got no takers."

"Maybe because no one wants to spend every waking hour working on the musical. Except for Fern, I guess," Buster added thoughtfully. "And even she's cut back so she can work on her new book. At least, that's what she says. Not that she needs the practice—she's got it in the bag."

Francine muttered something, but it had not been low enough. Arthur distinctly heard her say, "I'm sure she does," in a condescending tone. Unable to help himself, he looked her way, but Francine feigned innocence and concentrated on her food.

"Anyway," Buster said, "I'm actually kind of glad she stopped asking me to practice. I need time to relax and refill my creative well."

"Which means you play video games and hang out with Compson," Francine teased.

"Hey, I do other stuff, too, like the special project I'm working on this afternoon. But mostly, yes."

Buster had spoken of his so-called special project this morning and how he planned to work on it while Ladonna was busy with card drive stuff. Knowing that he was committed to it, Arthur had not even mentioned the impromptu practice to his best friend. Even though he could be lazy, once the boy dedicated himself to a task, he was all in. Buster had not divulged any specific details about his project, but he assured Arthur that it was going to be great and that, no, it was not another agent query for Fern. Arthur was pleased to know Buster had learned his lesson on that one.

"She says you two haven't kissed yet," said Francine. "What's up with that?"

Buster paused at Francine's pressing, looking as if the fact had hit him for the first time.

"Um, I dunno. We just haven't."

"Don't you think it's time you did something about it?"

"Like what?"

"Make a move. You're not a real couple until you've kissed."

"Says who?'

"I'm right. Arthur, tell him I'm right."

"I…really don't want to get involved," Arthur said.

Thinking of Buster as any sort of romantic being was a bit much for him to grasp, even though he figured it would happen sooner or later. Even so, Arthur did not think he was ready to discuss his best friend's love life at length. Some things took time.

"Muffy, back me up."

Muffy had been staring at Alan, who did not look to be highly invested in the argument as he ate quietly, his face impassive as he chewed. He looked to Muffy as soon as her name was called, however. Muffy, in turn, snapped out of her gaze and joined the mix.

"Yeah, Buster. What are you waiting for?"

"Um, well," Buster's eyes darted around their table, "Ladonna made the first move. I was kind of hoping she'd make the second one."

"Ohmigod, no one likes a lazy lover," Muffy said. "You've got to get in there, make equal effort!"

"Yes!" Francine said. "Thank you!"

Buster dismissed them with a laugh as he stood. "You know, out of everyone at this table," he said with an air of mirth, "I can't help but notice I'm the only one in a relationship, or at least the only one willing to admit it. And you want to give me crap about how it should be done? Best joke I've heard all day. Ska-rew you guys, I'm going home."

He took his tray and walked over to Ladonna, who stood waiting for him at a wobbly, vacant table in the corner. He greeted her with something they could not hear but made her laugh, and the two sat down.

"I never actually said anything," Alan said quietly, the corner of his mouth pulling into an amused smirk.

At this, Muffy smiled. She turned her attention back to Arthur and Francine.

"Seriously, no one's joining your practice?" she said.

"Doesn't look like it," Francine said.

"Binky, George, and Maria are on the Autumn Ball committee, so—" Arthur began, but Francine cut him off.

"And Sue Ellen," she added.

"Yeah. And Sue Ellen. So they're pretty busy this week unless it's official school musical business. And Binky is freaking out, worried that the Ball won't be any good. He says he doesn't want his name attached to 'some dumb, sucky dance'. Between this and The Music Man, he's no fun to be around right now."

"I can understand his stress," Muffy said, her voice growing louder. She leaned back and practically announced, "The committee has a lot to accomplish. After all, it's only five days until the Autumn Ball! Anyone who still needs a date had better hurry up and ask!"

Muffy turned in her seat, checking to see if anyone from the table behind her was listening, and she continued.

"My dress is stunning, a replica of Lola's dress from Deadlight! And I'm getting my hair and nails done—everything is going to be magical!"

A few students were staring now, and they looked put off by Muffy's obnoxiousness. Alex turned to glare at her, then pulled his ears down as he faced his friends again. Even Buster and Ladonna were looking her way.

"It is going to be magical," she said firmly, this time with her normal voice.

Muffy abruptly left the table and dumped her tray on her way out of the cafeteria. Arthur and Francine shared a confused look as Alan left in her wake, hurrying to catch up.

Muffy fought the urge to run to her locker and check her Infinity, once again reasoning with herself. She could wait three more hours. It was the middle of a school day. What were the odds someone would risk a write-up when they could simply ask her now?

Face it, what are the odds anyone is going to ask me, period?

Muffy had everything set up. Nail and hair appointments were scheduled, she had finally obtained the much-coveted Turnt eyeshadow palette, and she had a gorgeous dress, altered to perfection by Bailey, waiting in her closet. Everything was in line, ready for Saturday, everything except for a companion, the one thing that would prevent her from looking like an utter loser. The hour was getting late, and it was looking more and more likely that a companion would never come along. And then she would be forced to stay home Saturday due to an awful, raging stomach bug, the excuse she would give to everyone for her absence, because she could not show up alone, not after she had spent months talking up the ball, how great it was going to be. She did not think she could face the shame.

As much as this hurt Muffy, it also did not make sense to her. She was a great hostess. She threw the best, sometimes legendary parties. It was one of the many things for which Crosswires were known. Everyone wanted an invitation, to be seen at them. So why was it nobody wanted her? It did not matter how well-dressed she was when she showed up at the Autumn Ball. It was all for nothing if she was unwanted.

"Muffy?"

She blinked back tears when she heard Alan, calling her from the middle of the hall. She sniffed, making sure she was not about to experience an uncontrollable runny-nose situation that might give her away. She flashed him a pleasant smile as she turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Is everything all right?" he said, brow creased as he approached.

She gave her best attempt at an unwitting shrug. "Yeah. Just getting ready for next period."

Alan fell into step with her as she headed to her locker, and Muffy knew he was not going to give up so easily. Why had she left the lunchroom like that? What a dumb mistake.

"To me, it seems like something is bothering you."

"Well, you're wrong, Alan. I'm fine."

She headed straight for her locker, reaching out for her combination, when Alan stepped in front of her.

"I get why you feel compelled to put on a façade for the others, but remember, it's not necessary with me."

"Noted," she said, "but nothing's the matter."

"Something is. I can tell, and I'm beginning to worry."

"Stop that!" she snapped in a hushed, appalled tone. "Don't you dare waste your time worrying about me, not when—"

"How can you say that? We both know how important it is to have an outlet for—"

"It's not my family, if that's what you're thinking. It's silly and embarrassing, and it's nothing you should be worried about. You have enough already—I mean, not that you should worry at all. You shouldn't… I need my bag."

She motioned for Alan to step aside and he complied, looking stung and confused, and Muffy grew even more disgusted with herself for handling things this way. Now she really regretted losing her cool at the table. Hastily, she dialed her combination and retrieved her schoolbag.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she left him behind. "We're going to relax, okay, and try to forget everything."

"I simply can't forget everything, Doctor."

Alan sat on Dr. Paula's sofa Monday afternoon, wringing his hands in his lap, as his psychiatrist took down notes in her ever-present padfolio. This had not been the plan. He wanted to come in and share some good news with her before talking about life's negative aspects and delving into his grief. He had been dreaming about Lydia again lately. They were not nightmares this time around. In fact, he barely remembered them. Still, he wanted some insight as to what they could possibly mean, which meant Dr. Paula would ask him a series of questions that would ultimately lead him to an answer on his own. However, as soon as Dr. Paula had asked him how he was feeling today, Alan launched into the most prevalent subject on his mind: Muffy. He covered everything from The Noob's Guide to her evasiveness to her commanding him not to worry about her.

"She says it's silly, and maybe it is…"

He had never discussed Muffy's personal and family problems with Dr. Paula. He only referred to them has "her issues" when talking of his kinship with her, always avoiding the details, feeling it was not his place to make anyone privy to her woes, especially when she kept them so close to the vest.

"I don't know, maybe I shouldn't needle her about it, whatever is going on. Maybe it is just something embarrassing for her to talk about. As long as she's not in danger, I suppose I could respect her privacy. But the reticence and awkwardness when it applies to me and my issues… I honestly don't think I can stand it much longer. I just want to talk to her, but I can't anymore, and I suspect it's because of that book. I was touched when I first found it, touched because of what her possession of it meant. But now? She thinks it's helping, but it's not. I believe that, instead of guiding her, it's causing her to second-guess everything she's ever done, and now she's over-correcting her behavior to the point where we're unable to connect. Whatever it is, it's making things worse between us. I don't want our friendship to change."

Dr. Paula was silent for a moment, and Alan surmised that she was giving him a couple of extra seconds to catch his breath in case there was anything he wanted to add before asking, "What do you feel is the right thing to do about this?"

"Not forgetting about it," he said, looking at his twisting fingers, "and certainly not bottling it up. I can't do either of those things. I need to be honest with her, but I'm afraid."

Dr. Paula moved to the edge of her seat. She always seemed to do this just before she ended up offering him the tissue box, anticipating an outpouring of tears. She wore a kind and sympathetic expression.

"How do you think she would react if you told her you were displeased with her methods? Do you fear she would end your friendship?"

"No," Alan said without hesitation. "She's more than capable of emotional extremes, but I don't believe she would react that way in that case. I probably wouldn't have thought that months ago, but experience has definitely altered my opinion."

"What is it you're afraid of, Alan?"

"I don't want to hurt her," he said softly. "She's worked extremely hard to earn my trust, to be there for me and help me. I might not be here, talking this openly if not for her. If not for her, I might not be here at all. Who knows what I would've done if she hadn't grounded me? On multiple occasions? I've watched her beat herself up over not believing she could help me enough. Sure, she wasn't perfect, but she tried, and even though I know it wasn't easy for her, she never treated me like a burden. Now she thinks this book has the answers, but it actually has turned me into a burden for her, and I hate it. How do I tell her that without hurting her all over again?"

He did not wait for Dr. Paula. He reached for the tissues himself and pulled one out, dabbing his brimming eyes with it.

"I'm tired of everyone feeling hurt, but how can I help someone when I can barely help myself?"

"Interesting," Dr. Paula said.

"What's interesting?" said Alan, sniffling.

"What you just said. If I recall correctly, Muffy said something very similar to you the evening you begged her not to, as you put it, leave you behind. She doubted her ability to help you, and yet she did. It's very interesting to me how people, even in times of extreme doubt, are capable of much more than they realize. But that's just me. What do you think, Alan?"

To be continued…