I first met Angela Chase when my family moved on to her street when I was three years old. Patty used to bring Angela to my house when she had to go to work. My mom worked from home for a while; although she may as well have been miles away I saw so little of her. Angela and I must have spent hours just sitting at my kitchen table playing games or writing stories, we planned one day to write a series of children's books but we could never agree on whether the protagonist should be a boy or a girl.
Brian is slumped down in his desk chair, spinning idly from side to side.
I don't remember the exact moment that she became more than just the girl across the road. I guess it could have been around five or six when she started wearing her hair in braids, she looked really pretty like that. She kissed me once, and I remember the feeling of her braid tapping my shoulder as she leant toward me.
He sat up slightly as the Chase front door opened. He often watched the comings and goings of their home, curious as to what life was like over there on the other side of the street. He liked the way Angela's red hair looked redder in the sunlight, and the way she flicked it back before climbing into the car.
So basically Angela and me have been like going places this last week. We went to see a movie last weekend and after school on Wednesday she asked me to go to the mall with her and we got ice cream, and then on Thursday we went to see Our Town. And this is all great, believe me it's so great. I just can't bring myself to quite believe it.
Another car pulled up outside the Chase house, an old car, more rust than metal. Brian watched as the door opened, leaning closer to the window to be sure of a positive identification. It was Jordan. He closed the car door and spun round to look up at Brian's window as if struck by some sudden gift for telepathy. Brian sprung from the window so fast he tripped over the desk chair and landed up sprawled on his floor.
I mean, even with his faults, why would she ever choose a dork like me over him?
"Brian!" he heard his father's voice, "are you okay? I heard a crash,"
"I'm fine dad," he called back.
"That's great son, in that case could you take the garbage out?"
"Dad I'm kinda busy,"
"Brian," his father cautioned, "it's Friday,"
Brian dragged himself up from the floor and reluctantly left the sanctuary of his room
He opened the front door slowly and peered around the side, spotting Jordan lingering on the porch. He picked up the garbage and made his way down to the dustbins. However, despite every attempt, he could not prevent the rattling noise as he lowered the lid of the bin back down. He caught sight of Jordan walking briskly across the road.
"Brian?"
Resigned, Brian looked up.
"Hey,"
"Hey. Do you know where Angela is? The house is like empty," Jordan indicated to the Chase's.
"I don't know, I think I saw them leave earlier. I mean I heard the car but I don't know where they went or anything,"
Jordan nodded, "so you and Angela were at the play the other night?" he asked casually.
"Yeah, she asked me if I wanted to go so I thought why not, you know, it might actually be good. I mean it was good,"
Jordan thrust his hands into his pockets and glanced up and down the street, "so she's okay and everything?"
Brian heard his voice crack a little and felt a strange sense of power "yeah, she's okay,"
Jordan nodded and went to turn away. Brian felt a sense of relief, but it was soon reversed when Jordan turned back.
"Does she like say anything about me? I mean," he leant toward Brian as if to confide in him, "you know we had a fight, right?"
"Yeah she mentioned something about it,"
"What did she say?" Jordan frowned.
Brian's head was buzzing, sifting through any number of explanations of what Angela had confided in him during the past few days.
"Just that-, that-," he stuttered, "that she felt you weren't being honest with her or something,"
Jordan sighed and ran his finger through his hair, "what is it with her? I mean," he contemplated his words, "do you understand her?"
The question was asked in all sincerity and, if Brian had answered with similar honesty, then it would have been in the negative. He was well aware that, when it came to Angela, he had little more of an understanding of her than Jordan did. "She likes to have things her way, that's all,"
Jordan nodded as if Brian had just imparted some great ancient wisdom. "Are you still gonna be tutoring me, because I'm kinda falling behind in Katimski's?"
Brian swiftly weighed up the options, "I'm actually kinda busy right now,"
"Oh,"
"I mean I should never have signed up for the program in the first place, I'm pulling a triple minor as it is I mean I can't physically do it,"
"That's okay, I'll figure it out myself,"
What possible explanation is there for me feeling sorry for Jordan Catalano? I'm totally loosing it.
"Maybe if you write the assignment, I could look over it,"
Jordan nodded, "yeah that would be cool. See ya Brian,"
"Yeah, bye,"
I owe him nothing. None of what has happened between him and Angela is anything to do with me. If he can't figure it out then that's his problem, not mine. It's not like Angela could ever seriously be like in love with that idiot.
Once back in his room Brian found himself once again slicking through the Phonics Manual until at last the piece of paper floated out from between the pages. He picked it up from the floor and unfolded it. It had become like a weight on his shoulders, it was the truth, and he was hiding it.
But when I think about it, I am involved, like irrevocably. It's all in my hands. It's like everything Angela wants is true, it's there. But while she can't see it, she sees me. It's like a total Catch-22.
--
Angela arrived just after eight-thirty on Sunday night. Brian knew she was coming at eight-twenty eight because he had been watching the house on and off since the afternoon and had seen her stepping out of the door.
I really need a hobby.
He checked himself in the mirror, something he had never really done until recently. He had had to peel off numerous stickers and old post-it notes in order to actually make use of it.
Angela was struggling with some biology work and Brian had agreed to help – obviously. They sat at kitchen table but Angela seemed distracted, Brian kept catching her staring off into the distance whilst he was trying to explain something. It frustrated him.
It's not like there aren't other girls in school that I find, you know, interesting. There's this one girl in particular on the tutoring programme, and then of course there was Delia. But somehow none of them quite compare to Angela. Something about the way she is, is just different. The way she sees things, the way she's always analysing stuff. It's as if she's had a glimpse into the future and every so often she remembers something she saw and it's like some kind of warning or something that must be decoded.
He watched as she made a note of the explanation he had just given her about one particular theory. Brian watched with interest every smooth line of her handwriting as it appeared on the page.
I mean obviously I find her attractive; I'm only human after all. But with her there's something else, something that sets her apart. I wish I could say I understood it; I wish I could say that Jordan was a fool for not being able to decipher her, but I can't. She's a puzzle to me, I don't know the formula, but maybe that's what makes her so--extraordinary.
"So it's done? I mean I'm finished?"
Brian was drawn out of his reverie by Angela's question. She was displaying a page of writing to him to check over, even though he had practically dictated it to her word for word and so obviously it would be correct.
"Yeah, that seems okay,"
"Right," she placed the sheet of paper into the textbook and closed it, bending down next to her chair to pick up her bag.
"Do you wanna watch a movie?"
Angela paused, "I should go home, my dad's saving me some dinner,"
"Oh," Brian stacked the three textbooks he had brought down to help Angela, "are you okay?"
She looked up at him.
"I mean, with the biology. You're sure you understand?"
"Enough to be going on with," she nodded, "thanks Brian,"
"You're welcome,"
Angela seemed to linger, as if there was something more.
"So apart from bio? You're okay, like in general?"
Angela turned to him, he could tell from the look in her eyes everything was not okay.
"Brian, would you ever lie to me?"
"Me? No, never," she shook his head.
"You lied about the letter,"
"That was different," he lowered his head, pretending to read something on the back of the textbook, "I would never do anything like that to you,"
She tucked her hair behind her ears; I love it when she does that. I bet Jordan Catalano never even notices it.
As Brian finally gathers enough courage to look up he realises she is looking straight at him. Not only that, she's actually smiling. He couldn't help but smile, it was partly genuine and partly a result of his embarrassment, "what?"
Angela shook her head, "how long have we known one another?"
"I don't know, I don't remember ever not knowing you,"
Angela lowered her gaze to the table; she slowly reached a finger out toward Brian's hand. He braced himself for the touch of her skin.
Oh my God.
"Brian-," she was interrupted by the doorbell, and quickly drew her hand away.
Brian was reluctant to leave the table; sure that Angela was about to confess something important. But his father sometimes forgot his keys and Brian would be in serious trouble if he didn't let him in pretty sharpish. However as Brian approached the front door he noticed that the little dish, where they kept all the door keys, was empty. As he drew open the door Brian felt a strange sense of dread.
"Hey,"
"Hey,"
Jordan held out a slightly crumpled sheet of paper, "you said I could give you my work, for you to check it out or whatever. It's just I'm kinda on a last warning with Katimski,"
Brian took the sheet of paper.
"Brian?" Angela's voice could be heard from inside.
Jordan smirked, "you got a girl in there?"
Brian flushed and closed his eyes, as if bracing himself for a crash. Angela appeared behind him.
"Jordan?"
"Angela,"
"What are you doing here?"
"Jordan was just dropping off some work I said I would check for him,"
Angela frowned, "whatever. I'm done. I'm going home,"
"Okay," Brian stepped aside to let her pass.
Angela eyed Jordan as she passed him. Brian noticed how Jordan inhaled deeply as her hand brushed his.
Do you ever get the feeling you shouldn't be witnessing something?
Angela paused just behind Jordan. She turned back to Brian.
"So I'll see you in Bio tomorrow?"
Brian nodded enthusiastically "sure,"
Angela turned and made her way down the driveway. Jordan glanced up at Brian before turning away and following her.
"Angela,"
Brian took a few steps toward where Angela and Jordan stood face to face in the driveway. Angela moved closer to him, taking hold of the lapel of his jacket gently.
The thing is, she looks at me differently to Jordan Catalano. She'll never see me the same way she sees him, I guess because I'll never look like him or be a rebel like him, or not care what people think.
Brian closes the front door as he disappears back inside. He walks back into the kitchen and sits in the chair where, until a few moments ago, Angela had been sitting. He opens her textbook and studies the page where she has written down his solution to the problem set by Chavatal. He picks up her pen and the words of the letter he wrote to her run through his mind.
The truth of course is that I have lied to her. I've been lying to her for the last decade at least. Not explicitly, but keeping the truth from a person is the equivalent of a lie I guess. The truth is that I love her, like I've never loved anyone else. But when she looks at me, it's as a second choice and if I do truly care about her then I have to respect that.
Brian collected the textbooks and walked slowly up the stairs to his room. He looked out of his window at the pair still standing on his driveway. Angela was gesticulating wildly, clearly arguing with Jordan. Although, as ever, the argument was pretty much one sided, with Jordan simply standing there motionless, just taking it. Brian thought back to all of the times he and Angela had exchanged heated words, how he secretly loved to see her get fired up over something, even if it was anger at something he had done or said.
Brian whished he could lip read. He couldn't decide what he hoped would be the outcome of this exchange between the couple on his driveway. On the one hand he loved Angela, that he knew for sure, and so part of him hoped this night would mark the end for Jordan Catalano. But on the other hand, what did he have to offer? Sure, they'd known each other forever but surely if it was meant to be it would have--been by now? Something about the last few days hadn't felt right, Brian wasn't all that familiar with the terminology of relationships but for some reason he couldn't shake the feeling that he was some sort of rebound.
I guess it's kind of like when there's something you really want, like a book--or possibly something a normal 15 year-old would realistically want. So you save up for it, like every day you get a little bit closer, and then one day you visit to the store at night and someone's left the door unlocked. So you go in and you get the book--or whatever--and for a few days it's like great, everything you imagined it could be. But then you realise--it's not. It's like tainted.
He lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, imagining how things might have been different if he had somehow prevented Angela from ever having come into contact with Jordan Catalano. But is it even fair for him to wish that? Everything happens for a reason doesn't it?
There was a brief knocking on his door, Brian quickly pushed himself off the bed and opened the door to reveal a puffy eyed Angela.
"Oh, hey, I thought you might have gone home,"
Angela, clearly feeling rejected by the suggestion, went to turn away.
"I mean, I'm not saying you have to--go home,"
He watched her as she slowly turned back to him, her hand rising to her face to wipe away a stray tear and clumsily push back her hair.
Brian wasn't exactly sure what he was supposed to do in this situation. Angela Chase like crying in his room isn't exactly the kind of thing Phonic Manual prepares you for. Before he even knew what he was doing Brian had draped an arm around Angela's shoulders. To his surprise she didn't pull away but moved closer to him, burying her face in his shoulder.
"Did Catalano say something to upset you?"
"No," was the only reply.
"Are you wearing mascara?"
Angela lifted her face from his shoulder and wiped her eyes, "for God's sake Brian,"
Brian checked his shirt quickly, "sorry I just-, my mom would probably have some kind of fit from the excitement if she found make-up on me,"
Angela took a deep breath.
"Do you wanna sit down or something?" Brian attempted to maintain a calm tone.
She walked over to the desk chair and sat down, crossing her legs.
"You can have the blanket if you want, I put it there because the chair is by the window and sometimes there's a draught,"
Angela turned to locate the blanket on the back of the chair; she unfolded it and wrapped it around her shoulders. Brian, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the whole situation, sat on the edge of the bed.
Angela looked out of the window.
"I think he's gone," Brian informed her.
He watched as Angela pulled the blanket further around her shoulders.
"So you were talking for a long time,"
"Brian,"
"What?"
"Don't,"
He pulled his knees up under his chin and waited.
"Do you think it gets easier than this?"
Brian looked up.
"Do you think when we get old we'll understand?"
"I don't think so," he replied.
Angela smiled, "you don't know Brian, because you've never been through anything like this,"
Brian found himself overcome by an anger he hadn't expected, "what? How can you say that?"
Angela seemed to be taken aback by the sudden outburst.
Brian stood up to emphasis his point "you have no idea Chase. You're so busy with your own issues you don't even bother to consider anybody else's feelings,"
"Yes I do,"
"Really,"
Brian set about tidying away some items from his desk, "you know I actually feel sorry for Jordan Catalano. I mean it must be really difficult for him having to deal with your constant selfishness,"
"Brian," Angela exclaimed, agog at his declarations.
What the hell, in for a penny …
"You know how I feel about you don't you? You know and you have continued to torment me. So don't come here crying to me about how hard it is for you,"
Brian slowly opened the drawer of the desk and took out the Phonics Manual, he opened the book and took out the slip of paper that had been haunting him for weeks.
"Why do you put up with me?" Angela asked at last.
"Because I'm a glutton for punishment obviously,"
Because I love you, because I think I've always loved you, probably always will. But maybe that's just it; maybe I'm just in love with the tragedy of it all. Maybe in twenty years it'll be my turn.
"Look, if I give you something, something that I think might be important to you, don't start reading something grandiose into it okay?"
"What?" she shook her head in confusion.
Brian held out the piece of paper to her.
"What is this Brian?"
"Just read it okay,"