Outside, we walked away from the parking lot and to a side street, where Kristen had parked Dean's car.
"He doesn't want it parked in the lot," Kristen was saying, as we sat down inside the car. "He's worried somebody will drive in crazy and
put a dent in it."
I rolled my eyes in the near to darkness of the car's front seats. The car smelled of smoke. It only took me a couple of moments to figure out that it wasn't
cigarette smoke, but marijuana.
"I smell weed," I said.
"Dean likes to smoke," Kristen said, and then turned on the dome light.
"Are you?" I asked her.
"Sometimes," Kristen said, and then I guess my face showed my dismay, because Kristen drew back a little.
"Don't start, Harlie, okay? I want to talk to you, but I don't want you to preach at me."
Preach?
"I'm not preaching," I defended myself. "I'm just asking. I mean-you never did before, so you can't blame me for
being surprised."
"Well-things change," Kristen said.
"So-you're with Dean now?" I asked.
Kristen shrugged. "Sort of, I guess. I like him."
I kept my mouth shut about what I'd heard about Dean's bad points. I didn't want Kristen to stop talking, or to tell me to get out.
"Guthrie didn't waste any time to start dating someone else," Kristen said.
Before I could defend Guthrie in any way, Kristen went on, sounding bitter. "He couldn't wait to start dating that Misty girl."
I wasn't sure what to say, so I said, "I know Guthrie still cares about you."
"I don't think so," Kristen said.
There was no sense in arguing, I thought. Kristen seemed to be setting herself in a mood.
"What did you want to show me?" I asked, instead, thinking to get Kristen off of the topic of Guthrie.
Kristen pulled open the ash tray, and took something out, showing me what was in her hand. It looked like a ring.
"It's Dean's class ring," she said. "From where he used to go to school."
"Oh," I said, not really grasping what she was getting at.
"He said I could wear it, if I wanted," she said.
"Oh. He did?"
"Yes. I need to get some tape so it will fit my finger," she said.
"That's cool, I guess," I said.
"Why do you guess it is?" Kristen asked, defensively. "I mean-why isn't it just cool?"
"I didn't mean anything by it," I said. "Honestly, Kristen-I don't know what to say to you without making you mad lately."
"Well-it gets really hard always having to explain myself to you and Guthrie and the teachers all the time."
I didn't think I should be put in the same category as an adult teacher-I mean, I didn't think I'd been that questioning to her.
So I stayed quiet and after a couple of minutes, Kristen sighed, and then seemed to perk up. "Never mind," she said. She took the small little container
that I'd seen in her hand earlier, and opened it.
I watched as she popped one into her mouth, swishing it down with some soda that was left in a Dari Kurl cup.
"Aren't you gonna ask me what these are?" she asked me.
I decided to tell the truth. "Guthrie told me."
"Why does that not surprise me?" Kristen said. "I suppose he's told the whole family, too."
"He hasn't. He hasn't told anybody but me."
"Well, I'm sure he will," Kristen said.
"Why are you taking them?" I asked.
"Do you know what it's like-feeling good for the first time in years? I mean-really good. These are my happy pills, Harlie."
"But-it's not real," I pointed out.
"I don't care if it's not real. It feels real when I'm taking them."
"What if you can't stop taking them?" I persisted.
"They won't hurt me," Kristen said. "I've already read about it. I can take them however long I want to."
"That doesn't sound right to me," I said.
"That's because you don't know about it," Kristen said. "All they do is make you feel really, really good. They give me energy, and I don't have to
sleep much. And-I don't have to think about my mother, or Frank or Guthrie, or anything else."
I tried to search for the right words. "I'm worried about you," I said.
"You don't need to be. I finally found a way to cope with my life."
"Oh, Kris-" I said, sadly, without thinking.
"Don't do that. Don't be a Debbie Downer."
"I'm not trying to be that," I said.
"If you tried one-just one-I promise you that you'd understand," Kristen said. She held out the little container, full of white pills.
"I don't want to," I said.
"Adam won't be able to tell," she said. "Or Brian, or anybody else. There's no smell like marijuana. They won't know."
I shook my head in refusal.
Kristen sighed as though I was a trial to her.
"Doesn't your mom notice?" I asked. "That you don't sleep, and that sometimes you're really happy, and other times you're really
down?"
"This is my mom you're talking about, remember?" Kristen scoffed. "She doesn't notice, and if she did, she wouldn't care."
I didn't try to deny any of that.
"Where are you getting them from?" I asked, then.
"Why do you want to know?"
"I'm just curious," I said.
"I'd rather not say."
We sat in quiet for a few moments, and then Kristen said, "I'm telling you, Harlie. I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."
"What about Crane?" I asked.
"What about him?"
"He'd be so disappointed in you," I said.
"Then don't tell him, and tell Guthrie not to tell him," she said. "Besides, he's not my brother. He's not my family."
"But he cares about you," I protested. "He does, Kris."
"I'm not his responsibility," she said.
"I know, but-"
We were both startled by someone walking in front of the car, and then coming to the driver's window.
"It's Guthrie," Kristen said, and rolled down the window. She acted as though she was casual about seeing Guthrie standing there, but yet,
she sat up straighter and sort of brushed her fingers thru her hair.
"Hello, Guthrie," she said.
"Hi, Kristen," he said. He bent down a bit to peer into the car.
"I've been lookin' all over for you," he told me.
"How come?" I asked.
"Because you disappeared, without telling anybody, that's how come," he said, shortly. "Lori's lookin' for you, too."
"Oh. Okay," I said.
Guthrie straightened up to his full height, and then he stood there, like he was waiting.
"I'll be right in," I said. I thought I could talk to Kristen for a few more minutes.
He seemed reluctant to go, and still stood there, shifting from foot to foot.
"He doesn't trust me, do you, Guthrie?" Kristen said, and laughed.
"No. I don't," Guthrie said, in answer. Kristen had obviously been expecting him to deny her statement, or laugh it off, and when he said that,
she shrugged.
"Oh, well," she said. "Better you find out now instead of later, what a terrible person I am."
"Guthrie doesn't think that," I protested.
"Sure, he does," Kristen said. She turned to me. "I'm going to go. I've got to meet Dean. Okay?"
"Okay," I said, reluctant for her to go.
"It was good to talk to you, Harlie. Honest."
"Yeah. You too," I said. I reached for the door handle and got out, going around to the other side of the car. Kristen had already rolled
her window up, and was starting the engine of the car.
She pulled away and we stood there, watching as she drove down the street in that nice car. Guthrie turned and started walking
back towards the entrance of Butch's. He was mad, and I could tell that he was. I wasn't sure if the anger was at Kristen, and her stupidity, or
at me, and the fact that he'd had to come hunting me.
I had to half-trot to keep up with his long legs. "I wanted to talk to her," I said. "To try to see what's going on."
"She's gonna try to get you to do some dumb shit," Guthrie said.
I didn't want to tell him that she'd offered me pills. So, I kept that to myself. "I have a brain, Guthrie," I said. "You act like I'm
stupid, or have no sense, or whatever. I don't just follow everybody else and do what they do."
"Okay," he said. I wasn't sure he meant, 'okay, I believe you', or 'okay, you're just saying that'.
"You have no faith in me as a person," I said, self-rightously.
"I have faith in you."
"You don't act like it," I accused him, as we reached the door to go back into Butch's, and the crowd of kids inside.
Guthrie opened the door, and gave me a push to go ahead of him while he held the door.
"Stop pushing me," I said, and let my left elbow go back with a swift movement to jab him in his stomach.
7