"" Nah, Chalky's cool man ... But maybe, I don't know." I remarked snorting off the quarter again. My eyes bulged like a disorientated weasel while I moved my jaw around.
" Not saying that he's not a cool guy Funnie, I'm just telling you what I heard." Responded Roger not taking his eyes off the road.
" Well whatever then I guess. Who gives a fuck anyway." It was good pony, maybe the best Roger had ever got.
" I'm not saying I give a fuck, that's just the word on the street. That's what people are saying."
"" Well people like to talk shit, don't they." I said staring out the window as the neighbourhood began to mutate from the working class dank of Liverdale into the decidedly middleclass area of Bluffington where the Studebakers lived.
" Well that's a given, but I reckon it's true." Roger replied slowing down to make a turn. I was genuinely trying my best not to give a fuck and I'm confident that a large part of me didn't but I could feel that part of me growing smaller and smaller as my repressed emotions and of course, the blow began to take effect. It was difficult to tell if Roger was telling me this for the sheer thrill of seeing how I would react or he was just yammering away about everybody's business as per usual. Eventually the curiosity, anger and jealousy proved too much.
" Who even said that to you? I bet it's bullshit." I said finally, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
" A few people." Roger said vaguely. Now I knew he was fucking with me. However, I still needed to know if it was horse shit or not.
" A few people who?"
" Look, they told me not to say anything, but it comes from a very reliable source."
" Are you a fucking journalist now?"
" No, but when someone tells me not to say anything..."
" You fucking say it anyway."
" Yes, but I never say who told me. I learned that one from my mom."
" I learned a lot from your mom too Roger."
" Fuck you." Roger rolled down the window of his shitbox of a car to spit. I sat there taking in the music, I was slowly beginning to seethe.
" Anyway, like I said before, it's probably all bullshit. These things get blown out of proportion. Like maybe they're just going out or kissed or something. Chinese fucking whispers." I rationalized defiantly.
" Yeah maybe." Roger responded in a relaxed manner. He opened the glovebox and produced a pack of Marlboro Reds, with one hand he removed the plastic wrapping with his teeth and popped a cigarette between his lips. He nodded over to me blatantly taking his eyes off the road. I obliged him and lit up the smoke. I studied his face as the fire made orange bounce off the lines and scars on his green skin, if you didn't know he was seventeen you could have thought he was nearly thirty. He turned back towards the dash in a cloud of smoke. He pierced the Marlboro between his index and middle finger, took a long drag and exhaled sharply.
" But what I heard was loud and clear, Chalky fucked Patty." I bit the inside of the bottom of my lip when I heard him say that. I talked like that about other people all the time, he fucked her, she fucked him, She fucked her, he fucked him. We both did, but there was something different about it this time. It sounded so vulgar, like it wanted me to get sick, smash someone's face in and take to bed for a week all at the same time. I had this strange feeling like someone had just pulled a rug out from under me while I was carrying a bucket of shit. Like it was all somehow so obvious and I was so stupid for not seeing it coming from a mile away. Even though, realistically, it was completely unforeseeable. But given my intake of cocaine, the latter was not the prevailing mood of the day. When Roger said it that time that somehow made it real. I started to get mental images of the two of them together, it made me feel repulsed. I had this sensation like there was a pair of hands moving around under my skin. Grabbing and squeezing the inside of my stomach.
" Do you know when it happened?" I asked.
"Roger took yet another drag before saying.
"I think about two months ago."
" Two fucking months ago!?" I had lost my composure and quickly gathered myself rubbing the bridge of my nostrils frantically for a few seconds, while staring intently out of the window.
" Jesus Christ, calm down Funnie."
" Ok, but seriously Roger, who said this to you!?"
" I can't say."
" Fuck!" I punched the window weakly.
" Jesus Christ Funnie, I thought we'd fucking joke around or something about it. It's just fucking gossip. I didn't know you were still obsessed with the chick."
" What the fuck are you talking about?!"
Roger rolled his eyes and squinted pretending to focus on something in the distance.
" Nothing."
" No! What did you mean!?'
" Nothing I was just joking around."
" Fuck you! You got something to say then it to my face!" I said aggressively shoving his elbow.
" HEY!" Roger shouted. " You want me to crash the fucking car!?" He quickly whipped the baggie of coke off my lap and put it into the inside pocket if his well-worn leather jacket. " Just calm fucking down! That's enough pony for you for one day! Jesus." I was a mixture of enraged and embarrassed, but he was probably right. I took a breather staring out the window once more. After a few minutes of silence Roger started: " Look, I was just ripping you, I thought it would be a lot funnier than it was in my head. I didn't think you'd flip out like that."
" I didn't flip out man, I'm good." I protested.
" Whatever." Roger replied, flicking his cig out the window. There were another few moments of silence.
" So they didn't fuck?" I asked hopefully.
" What?"
" Chalky and Patty, you said you were just ripping on me."
" No, they fucked. I was talking about the you being obsessed with Patty thing." Roger said somewhat compassionately.
" Oh,..." I paused for a moment. " Yeah, what the hell was that about exactly!?"
" C'mon Funnie.."
" C'mon what?" I asked pretending that I hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about. Roger rolled his eyes again.
" Jesus Christ, I know you're a piece of work Funnie, but you can't honestly be this self-delusional!" Roger remarked visibly annoyed by the tedious nature of the conversation.
" I don't know what you're talking about bro."
" So you're saying that you never had a thing for Patty?" Roger said in disbelief looking quickly at me and then back at the road.
"What!? You're crazy man! What gave you that idea!?" I said trying my best but I was a shitty liar.
" Jesus Christ, give me patience. Everybody knows for fuck sake! You think all this time it wasn't totally obvious!? Ever since I've known you you've been trying to get with her in some way or another! You hardly did anything else for fuck sakes! The sky is fucking blue, the grass is green and Doug Funnie loves Patty fucking Mayonnaise!" Roger began to laugh at the absurdity of my lack of self-awareness. There had definitely been moments when I thought people knew, Skeeter had been the only person who I had confided in about it, but I supposed I had fooled myself into thinking that I was a lot slicker than I actually was. Feeling a bit over-exposed, I decided there was no point in denying it any longer, not to Roger anyway. His friendship over the last year meant a lot to me. In some ways, as much as he was despised by the general population of Bluffington, he was one of the few genuine people around. He was who he was. He didn't pretend to be someone else, he didn't pretend to be good, he didn't pretend to be bad, he just was. Being honest with myself, I think that's what drew me to him and away from my old friends and their bullshit attitude towards what happened with Skeeter. There was no bullshit with Roger, say what you like about him.
" Ok, but it's not that fucking obvious, not EVERYBODY knows.." I said attempting damage control instead of outright denial.
" You constantly look at her like she's fucking ice cream and you want to eat her, trust me Funnie, everybody knows." Roger remarked in a matter-of-fact kind of way. I didn't have a comeback, so I just didn't say anything. I stared at my beaten-up converse and the collection of random junk on the floor of Roger's car. On the top part of my left shoe there was a faded drawing of a flower done with a sharpie. Curiosity got the better of me.
" Hey Roger…"
" What?"
" Do you… do you think Patty knows?"
" Is she retarded?"
" What?"
" Is she retarded, yes or no?"
" No…"
" Then she knows, like I said everyone knows and you'd have to be retarded not to."
" For fuck sake." I sighed and reached for the cigarettes.