“And sex?” She looked at Claudia and then at me. “Are you going to join the club?”
“Probably. I just want to feel like I’m ready. Troy’s more understanding, but we’ll see.”
Marcy looked at Claudia again and then back at me. “That’s it? That’s your whole story?”
I shrugged. “You think I’m wrong?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. Claudia?”
“It’s a personal decision. I don’t give my father credit for much, but he did say something very wise once.”
“What?” Marcy asked, grimacing.
“The more precious things we reduce to the ordinary, the less we become.”
“What? Oh, please, you two. I’m drowning in morality!” Marcy cried, reaching up as if she had to be saved.
“I’ve got to finish my homework,” I said. “Drown quietly, please.” I turned to my books, smiling to myself.
Now bored, Marcy left, and Claudia went to her homework as well. Even though it was small, it was another crisis passed. Was this the way I would spend the rest of my life, twisting and turning to avoid being known as a victim, to avoid pity rather than honest affection, and to hide what I really thought about myself in order to avoid days of tears and sorrow? Would my only real friends be those who, like Troy, had some emotional pain? Birds of a feather?
For the remainder of the week, Troy and I were together as much as we could be. My father called Thursday night to reconfirm our arrangements. I could hear the worry in his voice, worrying not only that I would back out but that it would backfire somehow on all of us, including Mother. Being with Troy more, talking about our lives, and really just getting to know each other better filled me with new optimism. My father heard it in my voice, and it boosted his hopes, I knew. Before the conversation ended, he told me more about Dana and some of the things they had done together, including trips
to Philadelphia to see shows.
I bore down hard on my schoolwork the remainder of the week and tried very hard not to think about what was coming up with Dr. Alexander during Thanksgiving. I was very excited on Friday because of my date with Troy. To keep their confidence and win their trust, I revealed to Marcy and Claudia that I was going to Troy’s house.
“Tonight might be the night, then?” Marcy asked. Then she smirked and said, “Like you’ll tell us.”
“I might,” I said. “Or you might see it in my face.”
“If it’s that obvious, you’d better avoid Mrs. Rosewell,” Claudia said.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure she wouldn’t know what it was,” Marcy told her. Then she looked at me and grimaced as if she were going to cry.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“We’re just going to the movies,” she said, her romantic excitement deflating. “We don’t have a house to go to afterward like some people we know, especially that house.”
“Oh. I see. Beware of jealousy. It’s the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on,” I said, waving my finger at her.
“What?”
“Othello,” Claudia said. “We read it last week.”
“Oh, save me!” Marcy cried. “I’ll end up being an A student because of you two.”
The three of us laughed as we prepared for our dates in Claudia’s and my room.
“Maybe you can talk him into having a party at his house one night,” Marcy suggested.
“Maybe,” I said, even though I doubted that would ever happen. It was better to leave possibilities dangling.
I had done a little of that verbal fencing Troy had accused me of when we first began to speak to each other, but when I walked out to get into his car, I wondered myself if this would be the night. Was I capable of it? Could it bring anything to me besides the horrid visions of what had happened to me in that basement?
Two things occurred to me. First, I was thinking of it as if it were an experiment and not the result of a romantic evening during which we both felt so strongly about each other that it was simply a natural outcome.
And second, I wanted it to happen because it was another way in which I could defeat Haylee.