Chapter Three

Evening was filled with dreaming awake, with staring at the ceiling and seeing only a few repeated pictures in my mind, my heart bouncing in my chest. It felt so good: to think about him, to feed that growing gnawing interest in the man I played ping pong with.

Again, so strange, so unique… so very much my own thing! I bit my lip, thinking about how, like every other girl my age, I was used to being disgusted by guys older than a certain age, 21 being the preferred limit on idols my class usually swooned over. I understood feeling nothing but scorn and aversion to older men, especially those old enough to be dads… But Chris was different. He was so good-looking, so athletic and manly, and he had none of those buffooneries I had seen in Michael Campbell. He didn't talk in a monotone, bored voice, and he didn't slouch so much… he wasn't thin, and pale, his hair didn't fall over his forehead in a disheveled bowl cut and he didn't make penis jokes. He didn't make any jokes. And he certainly wouldn't have been so scared before the Principal as Michael Campbell was… Michael Campbell, who had once seemed mysterious and aloof and so unreachable due to his age, now seemed an intolerable child, one I could never go back to looking at, because now I knew what I would be missing.

Unlike with Michael, I felt truly good fantasizing about Chris… I felt safe in filling my brain with pictures of him: I didn't have to fear being rejected, I had nothing to fear at all. He couldn't possibly care about me that way, when I was such an uninteresting teenager… Nonreciprocity was a given, one I'd lean upon to further my obsession. I'd not hope for anything, I'd not even hope to see him again, for I didn't know if I would… I'd just dream and enjoy those memories, enjoy that perfect little moment in time when I wanted him to smile at me and he smiled at me. That alone would make me happy. And dream I did.

On the following days, I sowed the seeds of a heart filled with a muse, however distant he might be: The very school building became more interesting. The shady patio, once a symbol of painful mornings reciting hymns, now made me sigh with memories. It was exciting to get up every morning and go back to school. It was exciting to lay in my bed at night and think about what might happen tomorrow. The days I didn't see him didn't bring me down at all – hope itself was an addictive drug, one that filled my life with color and drove the worries away, and apparently my imagination alone was all I needed to fuel it.

And yet, the day came when I would see him again: It made me so incredibly nervous when Eric pointed him out and shouted his name. I had spent the entirety of that week idealizing that day and idealizing him so much, I almost feared seeing the real thing again and verifying he was nothing like I remembered… The image I had of him and of our interaction was so perfect, and I enjoyed perusing it so much, I feared a future encounter would taint it, severing the frail strings that held my reveries overhead by weighing them down with an unrequested dose of reality.

"Chris!" Eric shouted his name, and that unnerved me even further: somewhere in my twisted brain, I believe I had convinced myself he was all mine, like an imaginary friend.

Danilo was more than pleased with my energy in accompanying him to school through all that week, oblivious to its source. Presently we played volleyball, with Eric about to serve on the other team, when he recognized Chris out by the gate better than I possibly could, distracted as I was. My heart climbed my throat and got stuck there, throbbing violently: It was Chris alright – his back was turned when one of Eric's teammates, Lucas, walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, his blue hawky eyes like I remembered them, this time shadowed by a scowl of vagueness. Lucas said something we couldn't hear and pointed towards us, I held my breath as Chris ran his eyes through the court, ran them right by me, distinctly saw me, but nothing special lightened up his gaze. He seemed utterly uninterested in greeting us again, and this time around had not even a polite smile to show Lucas as he spoke something in return, before turning and walking away.

Lucas walked slowly back to us, his head dropped with disappointment. I followed him with eager, toxic curiosity. He bumped against Eric, then said something too secretive for me to understand. Eric nodded, then smiled, positioning himself to serve. I struggled within myself.

"Come on… Abby! Get back in your place…!" Danilo screamed, always so competitive.

I played on, only this time I was disturbed, confused and shaky. I did not take kindly to that new interaction, and I specially couldn't cope with not knowing. Eric, Lucas and the other two boys who had played ping pong with us all talked with each other whenever they passed by one another, they all shared a secret and smiled. I watched eagerly, with Danilo yelling at me to pay attention to the ball.

Finally, when I was face to face with Lucas, with only the net separating us, I accosted him – the words spilling out of me, composure be damned, like a boiling pit:

"What did Chris say?"

"What? Erm…" Lucas seemed momentarily surprised I cared. Then, remembering Danilo and I were there the other day, he clarified "…I just asked if he wanted to play with us. He said he can't."

"Abby!!!" Danilo screamed, as the ball landed heavily beside me. I flinched, slapped it away, and Danilo facepalmed. A kid who was standing in as referee blew his whistle, and Eric's team celebrated.

"Why?!" I called Lucas' attention back.

"I don't know…" he moaned lazily "…probably because it's a girl's game!" and he laughed, as if he had said something equal parts genius and insulting.

"Why are you freaking playing it then?!" I accused. He frowned, pondered briefly, then shrugged, uncaring. His team served.

"Anyway…" he looked back at Eric, as if asking for permission. Eric shrugged, too. "…Chris said he'll teach us how to play poker if we wait until he's done."

"That's so cool! We're going, right?!"

"Yes, I mean… we are. I'm not sure if… well…" he looked at me awkwardly, then decided to share no more. "…At least get Danilo to come with you! I'm not gonna keep you company!"

Like I cared! My heart started beating fast again, it raced anew. Was I able to put my back into the game, finally? No… but I got better at faking it, now I wasn't so concerned. And when the match was done, I ran my plans through Danilo, summoning him to accompany me, as he had done so many times before:

"What? No way! You want to stay late? Like… after 4?!"

I shrugged. "That's when Chris gets off."

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach from saying his name.

"You hate cards!!!" he pursued.

"It might be fun…" I cleared my throat.

As the volleyball teams disbanded, Eric and his friends stared secretively around themselves. Danilo and I lingered awkwardly by them, and he motioned us be quiet. When he felt the area was clear enough, he sauntered away, gesturing us to follow. The sky was growing darker and the school grounds were now filled with shadows, and apparently the boys chose to hide under them whenever they could. In this furtive pace we were led all the way to the patio, past the fancy indoor court entrance, into a corridor we had never ventured into before, for it was squeezed behind the high school building and the back wall of the school grounds. At the end of that corridor, a door, some stairs, another door, and the boys now sighed and walked relaxedly into a crude little room, with concrete floors and yellow walls, a line of metal lockers on one end, an X-rated poster hanging from the wall behind a wooden table, some metal chairs around it… Chris sitting there.

"Oh! Hey guys… I didn't think you would come!" He put down a magazine he had been sifting through.

I paused as I saw him up close again, taking the time to study his face as we entered in a line. Now that he didn't seem as much in a good mood as the other day, I couldn't help but notice the tight muscles in his jaw, the way his dark-blond hair gleamed, unkempt, his aquiline nose and the brutish charm the whole granted him, so unlike Michael Campbell… Michael was gracious, smooth, prince-like… Chris was some other type of beauty, one I couldn't fully comprehend why it was so alluring, one I certainly did not expect to play on my heart strings as it did now. 'A man' the word echoed through my brain again, sending a thrill down my spine – a real, older man. Old enough to… I flustered, slightly intimidated by the thought of all the lengths a man in his age had already gone to. Sex, such an overwhelming, taboo idea to me, was certainly something familiar – even habitual – to him.

"Oh! It's you!" He interrupted my thoughts, and I blushed violently, startled, as if they had been exposed.

"My! Well, this is a surprise…"

"Sorry, we had to bring her…" Eric pulled a metal chair from the table and immediately took a seat, cool as if he were great friends with Chris "…because Lucas has a big mouth."

"No, not at all…" Chris sung cheerfully, turning on his chair with some agitation "The more the merrier, just… let's take this down, shall we?" He yanked the poster from the wall, probably attributing my blush to it. "Here. Take it. As a gift." He shoved the crumpled thing into Eric's lap.

"Woooow!" he held it up, ready to flatten it and preserve it for posterior worship.

"Put that down, will you?!!" Chris ordered impatiently, shoving it back onto the boy's legs, then smiling a big, awkward smile at me. I blushed and smiled back, and his eyes seemed kind… protective…

"Come on!" he beckoned warmly "Come in… pull a chair, make yourselves at home." He pulled a deck of cards from the table, began shuffling them nonchalantly.

"We'll do this in turns…" he explained "but you can sit next to me…" his eyes turned to me, specially kind… probably guessing I had no idea what we were going to do. "…I'll teach you a trick or two."

"I have a cousin…" Jamie grinned "Who's been to a juvenile detention. He learned it from the bad boys, and he taught me all he knew. I'm gonna kick your ass!"

"Where do you think I learned it from?" Chris retorted.

He seemed serious enough, and all paused to look at him… But soon enough, a smile followed:

"That's a joke." He turned to me before saying it, his eyes bright and friendly. I limited myself to smiling back and blushing.

Danilo, who was sitting across from me, rolled his eyes.

Chris was there again – he looked just like I remembered, his attentions were as electrifying as the last time… Perhaps even more so, for this time I fully longed for them. Lucas and Eric had enjoyed bringing to attention the fact that I was the only girl there, not knowing this would make Chris warm up to me with trying to make the room as little hostile as possible: they clicked their tongues as Chris silenced their vulgarities with a negating word, and they sighed impatiently when Chris stopped at every minute, leaned sideways to me, displaying me his open 'hand' of cards and explaining quietly what each of them meant. At some point in this obligatory proximity, our elbows bumped, and that in itself was enough to make my blood boil… not knowing that in the next second, Chris's large, muscular hand would be completely covering my arm, his eyes fixed into mine. "Sorry…" he'd say, before nonchalantly letting me go, leaving me to hyperventilate as he returned to his cards.

Finally, Chris declared it was my turn to join the game, and he would sit this one out in order to better assist me. All the boys booed in protest. Danilo watched quietly, disconnected, disinteresting and judgmental. I didn't care about them, but even without their added pressure I couldn't foresee how nerve-wracking the experience would be: Chris dealt me my cards, and he held my flimsy, shaky hand, positioning it properly – he had to do so again and again whenever I inadvertently drooped my grip, revealing my game.

"Abby, come on!" He chided, running out of patience, and I stared wide-eyed, happy he remembered my name.

Whenever someone else placed a card on the table, Chris would lean closer, his face so near to mine I could feel the heat from his skin. He'd look at my cards and then give me some pointers on what I could do. Of course, I had been too nervous throughout his previous explanation to understand them now, and then… then he'd clear his throat, come very close to me indeed and whisper into my ear precise directions. During those short intervals, the air would run out of me.

"Not fair!" The boys protested. "She's gonna win easy like that!"

I was serious, too busy swallowing the heart stuck in my throat and controlling my breath. Chris just laughed a fake, polite laugh, stretching his arm over the chair rest against which I leaned, and my entire body would turn warmer.

"…I thought you said you would kick my ass." He challenged.

Jamie slammed his hand on the table, annoyed: "I fold!"

I didn't know what that meant, but Chris chuckled – heartedly this time.

"Jesus Christ kid, did you hear a single word I said?" He teased impatiently at some point during the game, and watched me closely, expecting an answer and struggling his bemused smile from stretching when he saw me babble a disconcerted excuse.

"…unbelievable!" he sighed with mock impatience that was sufficient to make me truly upset, and he pulled my cards from my hand and threw them at the table: "We call!"

I won that round… Or, better put, we did. Still, I learned nothing of Poker that night.

…As a reward, the big pot consisted of… The crumpled poster, a few bubble gums one of the boys had stashed in his pocket, a fancy pen one of them had bought in Japan, and tomorrow's dessert.

"Please, please, please let me have it…!" Eric begged, crossing his hands. Of course, he meant the poster.

I cast uncertain eyes at Chris, he shrugged, uninterested:

"You can give it to him if you want… Or you can throw it away."

"Nooooo!"

"But to boys this age, I tell you…" he shook his head playfully "…they'll be devastated if you do!"

My cheeks glowed with embarrassment… fun, playful embarrassment, but embarrassment nonetheless. I was just learning to treat these subjects with more levity, just exercising acting more adult about things that mortified me… I pursed my lips, thought a little, then threw the crumpled ball up and watched the boys fall from their chairs trying to catch it. Chris laughed at the scene.

I pulled my hair behind my ear, he still watched me. It made me slightly embarrassed…

"W-was it yours?"

"What? Nooo!" He scowled and fixed on me an insulted expression "How old do you think I am?! In fact, never mind – don't answer that! You've insulted me enough…"

I smiled shyly, and Chris absorbedly tapped his fingers at the table while the boys struggled on the floor for the poster, his other arm still resting on the chair behind my back. I had grown used enough to this physical proximity so that now, as he looked around the room, it was my turn to watch him. I was dazzled by his words, by his coolness around such prickling matters as the ones that disturbed us teens, by his witty comebacks whenever someone tried to take a jab at him, never insulting or stooping to their levels. Though he entertained these boys, and these boys admired his laidback style, he also made a point to differentiate himself from them. Everything about him was so mature, so different from all I knew, like he belonged in an entirely new universe – an exciting, new universe, very different from the lame, angsty one I inhabited. Everything…

…his fingers tapping the table, his eyes wandering the room aimlessly, they eventually traced their way back to me and met mine – so blue, so open and friendly… I smiled, he smiled. I looked down, holding in my giggle.

"What?" he laughed. "Is there something on my face?"

I didn't answer, I merely limited myself to laughing.

Almost virtually forgotten, Danilo still sat there, quietly and impatiently watching us. Now I believe I had crossed some line, gravely trespassing the thresholds of his patience, for he rose, pushing his chair back:

"Alright Abby, let's go, it's getting late!"

Chris's eyes had been absorbed, they looked up at Danilo as surprised by his presence as I was.

"What? No… I mean…" I looked at Chris before finishing my protest, wondering if he, too, was about to leave.

"Actually, the boys wanted to play one more round…" Chris clarified. "They have to… you know…" he pointed idly at them, rolling on the floor laughing "…decide who gets to keep the prize. You can join in, of course!"

"I don't want that stupid thing!" He growled "Come on Abby, let's go!"

"I want to stay!" I moaned.

"Are you out of your mind? It's already dark outside! We have to be going…" he walked around the table, reaching for my arm.

"Noo! You go on ahead, I'll stay!" I decided, yanking myself free, my face glowing with anxiety. After all, I think that was the very first time I declared my independence from my childhood friend…

"No way! It's dangerous out there! Come on…"

"Danilo, no!" I insisted, but still Danilo pulled back my chair.

"Hey!" Chris chided in at last, his short shout silencing the room and startling Danilo. When I looked at his face, he frowned: "The girl says she wants to stay, did you not fucking hear that? Now you either sit back down and wait for her like a good friend, or you listen to her and go on without her!"

The boys stood up from the floor and watched quietly as tension built.

"Fine! I'll go then!" Danilo pushed the chair back most childishly. "When I get home I'll pray you don't get murdered on your way, because it's so dark and dangerous already!"

"No need for the drama…" Chris sighed impatiently, but willing to reconciliate "I'm sure her other friends can accompany her. Right boys?"

"Well…" They looked at each other.

"She's kind of out of my route, so…" Jamie passed the ball.

"Yeah… I live the other way"

The remaining two echoed those statements. It was their awkward way of telling Chris we weren't really friends… In fact, we didn't even know each other, aside from our names.

"Geesh!" Chris rolled his eyes "Well, it's no problem…" he reached out an appeasing hand between Danilo and I "I'll walk the girl home myself, make sure she gets in safe. How's that for a deal? Huh?"

Danilo was silent – just like that his excuse for being mad at my desertion of our tight-knit friendship was removed, and he could say nothing but to sigh and nod.

"Great! So don't worry about it… Now… where were we?" He picked up the cards again, began shuffling them.

Danilo having left and closed the door behind him, I couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable… A small degree of unease crept up over me, a strange feeling of having wandered too far, and alone… of failing to consider something or other, and of suddenly being only hinted towards the existence of danger, not knowing what it was or where it came from…

…but this feeling only lasted as long as it took Chris to flash me a personalized smile again, then my insides warmed up with excitement… and I was happy. I was with Chris, and without Danilo… I felt freer to be myself without being judged, to relax a little more in his presence… perhaps even to scooch a little closer.