"That"s not too diffi cult an accomplishment, Alex." I smacked her leg. "Ow! Cancer leg!"
"Always with the cancer. And was that a cancer fart you just made?" I waved my hand in front of my face.
Becca rolled up in hysterics. "It"s not my fault! It"s the meds!"
We didn"t mention Leo for the rest of the day, but that night I reviewed what was said and still came to the conclusion that I needed some s.p.a.ce from him. Everything we did together just felt too good. Sooner or later, that would turn to s.h.i.t as all good things did.
I"d rather put an end to it myself than watch it unravel or blow up in my face.
After work the next day, I decided to fulfi ll a f.u.c.k- It List entry- number 9: Bake cookies for the janitor.
I chose cla.s.sic chocolate chip because the recipe was right on the bag. When it came time to mix in the chips, I lunged my hands into the batter instead of using a mixing spoon. The small chunks of choc- olate and batter rolled in my palm with a ma.s.sage- like eff ect. I could"ve stood there all day, until my brothers barged in and tried to fi nger their way into the bowl.
"Stop!" I yelled, and whacked at their hands. "These are for someone else!"
"Alex has a boyfriend," sang the twins.
--1 "You guys are t.u.r.ds. I"m making them for the school janitor."
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"Alex is dating the school janitor," AJ and CJ chimed in unison, as if they shared an idiot brain.
"Get out of here." I pushed them out of the kitchen.
They gave me an idea, though. Maybe I could soften the blow to Leo with some cookies. A sort of let"s be friends peace off ering. And these were real, homemade ones, not fresh from the fridge impostors.
The janitor couldn"t possibly eat all of the cookies anyway.
After the cookies fi nished baking and I doled out a few to appease my annoying brothers, I packaged them neatly into two Ziploc bags.
One I labeled "To: Mr. Cooper, From: an appreciative student." I wavered over what to write on the second bag, how to address it, how to sign it. In the end, I simply wrote, "Leo."
He"d be fi ne. I"d be fi ne. We didn"t even know each other that well- mostly in the biblical sense, as they say. ( Were they really doing all that in the Bible?) I would keep myself busy with school and work and Becca, and he"d go back to what ever it was he did before me. He could start smoking again. I bet he wouldn"t miss me at all.
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CHAPTER.
24.
Armed with two bags of cookies, I picked up Becca for school.
On her head was a brilliant blue, bobbed wig.
"Attention much?" I asked as she got into the car.
"This may be my biggest moment in the spotlight," Becca declared.
"This will be one of many, Becca. Soon you"ll star in a Holly- wood blockbuster, date a movie star, burn out, land on a worst dressed list, then have a miraculous comeback in some brilliant indie fi lm, which will garner your fi rst of many Oscars. I will be the only person you thank, of course."
"You have this all planned out, don"t you?"
"Yes. And my career will go like this: Straight out of high school I write the next big horror franchise, totally revolutionary. I"ll go on to a lucrative career in writing and directing, and I"ll fall in love with Norman Reedus."
"Who"s Norman Reedus?"
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"You"re kidding. You must have cancer brain to forget s.e.xy hick Daryl from The Walking Dead. "
"The one who always looks dirty?"
"They all always look dirty."
"The one with the crossbow."
"That"s him."
"Sounds like a plan."
"If we could only get high school to hurry itself up and get out of our way." Before we arrived at school, Becca had me park in a dis- creet spot on a side street. "You were right about Caleb having some- thing for me." She dug through her bag.
"Please tell me he did not give you his detachable p.e.n.i.s."
"Better," Becca said, and pulled out a joint.
"Homeschool pot, huh? Caleb"s full of surprises. Maybe next he"ll tell you he"s really a demiG.o.d from Asgard."
"You want to try it?" Becca lit up the joint as if she had been smoking professionally.
"No. Unlike you, I have no excuse for acting like a gla.s.sy- eyed paranoid with the munchies in homeroom."
"Don"t judge. It helps me eat."
"I"m not judging. Just promise me that when the cancer"s over you won"t turn into some Phish- loving pothead. I would have to divorce you."
"Duly noted," she coughed.
Becca walked with her hand on my shoulder into the school. I wasn"t sure if she needed help balancing or the extra a.s.surance on her big -1- day back. I chose not to ask, pretending it was all normal. Before 0-
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parting ways at my locker, I handed Becca the bag of cookies for Mr.
Cooper. "You can be the messenger."
"But you made them."
"It"s off your f.u.c.k- It List, Becca. And, I might add, something you could totally have done yourself. If I weren"t so trusting, I"d say you were taking advantage of me."
"I am, and you are one of the least trusting people I know."
Becca walked off slowly with the bag, and I watched as a con- cerned and adoring crowd swarmed her. "Let me know if you want me to call Norman Reedus and his crossbow!" I called after her.
"And try not to scarf all the cookies!"
I waited to see Leo as the hallway crowd thinned, but he didn"t show at my locker. That wasn"t unusual, since we weren"t really the locker- meeting types. Still, we did have s.e.x Friday night and I did have a bag of cookies for him. Oh G.o.d, what if I didn"t have time to explain that the bag of cookies was a consolation prize and instead he thought I baked him cookies because of the s.e.x? I set the bag inside my locker and headed to fi rst period.
Leo was nowhere to be found at lunch or art, our usual meeting times, but I was so busy fending off Becca"s cancer groupies that I didn"t mind. Breaking up with someone, even if we weren"t techni- cally together, was unpleasant for all involved. My guilt meter was pretty much ratcheted to full. Any more, and it might overfl ow.
The end of the day came, and still no Leo. I guess I"d postpone the cookie drop until tomorrow.
But tomorrow came and went, and still no Leo. I worked Wednes- day and Thursday, and Leo didn"t visit, nor did I see him in school.
I didn"t want to call him or text him. First of all, he hadn"t called --1 -0 -+1 15 3.
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or texted me in all this time, which wasn"t very cool. But if I did, that just seemed like leading him on in some way. What if he was avoid- ing me? I was annoyed with the unknown, so I decided to do a little detective work.
Friday morning, Becca and I got to school early. I hadn"t driven her since Monday, since the walking and talking and human contact seemed to knock her around more than she expected. Like a school- loving crazy person, she was determined to try again. I was glad to have her there to a.s.sist me in my Leo recon. She wore a red wig, shoulder length, with thick bangs. Apparently her mom went on a shopping spree at a costume shop and bought Becca no fewer than seventeen wigs. They didn"t always help her feel well enough to stay in school all day, but at least she looked good. And gave her mom an excuse to go shopping.
We headed to the front offi ce, and when Becca entered, it was like the moment where the birthday girl enters her surprise party.
The secretaries screamed; the vice princ.i.p.al patted her back. My G.o.d.
Cancer was a strange disease. I fi nally managed to get Mrs. Novak, the oldest and most crotchety of the secretaries, to recognize there was someone else in the offi ce besides Becca.
"How can I help you, dearie?"
It may have sounded sweet, her calling me "dearie," but she only did so because she couldn"t recall my name from the other fi fteen hundred students, no matter how many tardies I got.
"I have a friend"- even that felt odd to say-"who"s been absent this week, and I was wondering if you knew why."
"What"s her name, dearie?"
-1- "It"s a he. Leo Dietz."
0- Mrs. Novak typed briskly onto her computer keyboard. The
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