Part Five
As the mild California winter turned into an even milder California spring, Morris found himself in a genuine dilemma.
On the one hand, things were good. His grades were back to where they should be, and his scholarship was safe. His parents were pleased; they no longer sighed worriedly when they saw him and tried to corner him in conversations about what was bothering him. The baseball team was playing so well they were almost guaranteed to bring in some hardware at the end of the season. Objectively, it looked like his last semester in high school would be a triumph.
But on the other hand, Morris knew better.
The other seniors still weren't talking to him. He hadn't seen Meaghan in weeks. And now there was Simon Camden.
The thing with Simon -- that was what Morris called it, because he couldn't think of anything else that didn't sound awful.
Simon had been coming over to his house almost every day, except when he had baseball practice. They forgot about Econ; instead, Simon always wanted to play with the Playstation or listen to Morris's rap CDs. The kid was living in a cultural wasteland, Morris realized; the Camdens would not allow their kids to play video games, and the only popular band that Simon was permitted to own on CD was Creed.
While Simon was discovering the popular culture of the twenty-first century, Morris found himself actually enjoying spending time with the kid. Simon still said every thought that came into his head, no matter how dorky it sounded. But a lot of what Simon said made sense, really, when you thought about it. It was just stuff that other people wouldn't say for fear of looking stupid.
You had to admire Simon's honesty, and his resilience in the face of all the abuse he got from the other kids. For example, there was the speech Simon had made after the dorky kid they were all ragging on brought a gun to school. Sure it was hokey, but it took balls to get up there and say something meaningful about violence to a bunch of other kids who were just waiting for the chance to rip you a new one. Morris's coaches had always talked about courage as if it was something you only found on a playing field, but Morris thought it probably took more courage to be Simon Camden every day than it did to stand around on a football field getting pounded. After all, nobody had ever laughed at Morris for being on the football team.
Yet what Simon wanted more than anything was to be accepted by the kids at school, especially the most popular ones. Morris didn't understand it at all. The whole scene was such superficial bullshit. Why would Simon tear himself up about it?
"You wouldn't understand," Simon informed him bitterly. "Nobody calls you Virgin Morris or expects you to be perfect all the time just because you're a minister's kid."
"Well, duh," Morris said. "But why do you care what they say about you?"
"Because I want them to like me. I want them to see the real me."
Morris sighed. "Dude, they're assholes. They don't give a shit about the real you. So just forget about them."
Simon folded his arms, scowling. "Easy for you to say. Everybody likes you."
"In case you haven't noticed, they don't like me so much anymore. Not since Tom's party."
Simon looked shocked. "I'm sorry about what happened at the party," he blurted out. "I didn't mean to make everybody hate you too."
"Don't be an ass, Camden. I'm the one who narced to your parents and got half the senior class arrested." Morris stretched out his long legs and leaned his head back against the headboard of the bed. "It doesn't matter anyway. I thought they were my friends, but obviously they couldn't care less about me, so fuck them."
Simon still looked worried that he had single-handedly driven all Morris's friends away. "Why did you take me to that party, anyway? You could have said no."
Well, there was a question. Hadn't he been wondering that himself for a while now? Looking back, he recalled that he hadn't even wanted to go. Tom and Mike's stupid parties were already starting to bore him, and he was tired of pretending to care about the same things his friends were into. There was really only one reason why he had gone. He decided he owed Simon an honest answer, and he gave one.
"Because you wanted to go, and because I liked you."
"Really?" Simon turned red with embarrassment and looked away.
"Yeah, really."
Simon said quietly, "I think you're probably the only person in the world who does."
"Bullshit." Morris tried to come up with the name of someone he knew who liked Simon. "What about your family?" he said lamely, trying to make a joke to lighten Simon's mood. "They're religious. They have to like everybody."
"They don't even know me," Simon confessed, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't know what they're like. They're always watching me, trying to find out everything I do. I can't ever have any privacy because then I might do something wrong, or I might think something wrong. My sister listens in on all my phone calls and then just tells Mom and Dad everything I say. My brother spied on me through the window while I was on a date with Sasha."
"You brothers and sisters spy on you?" Morris repeated stupidly. Privately he thanked God that he was an only child.
"Yes," Simon said. "But my parents don't care. They do it too. My dad always says he wants me to grow up and start acting like a man, but he doesn't even see me. He just wants me to act the way he thinks I should. And my mother's crazy. She locked us all out of the house once because we wouldn't do what she said. She's the reason everybody at school knows I'm a virgin. Two years of the whole school calling me 'Virgin Camden,' all because of her!"
When Simon finally wound down, Morris could only mumble, "That fucking sucks, man." He knew it was inadequate, but what could he say? The most restrictive his parents had ever been was when they told him he couldn't have girls in his bedroom overnight.
Flatly, Simon said, "If they knew what I was really like, they would hate me."
"That's crap, Camden. Parents don't hate their kids."
"Mine would." Simon sounded so certain of this that Morris didn't dare question it. It was disturbing, wondering if the Camdens, Uberparents of Glenoak, could really hate their own son. Morris especially did not want to think about the reasons why the Camdens might hate the real Simon. If he did, then he would have to wonder what his own parents would say if they knew about the thing with Simon.
