I venture into the kitchen, and there is Patrick, sitting at the
table, eating cereal without a shirt on, even though it’s well past lunchtime. He looks sweaty and dirty, like he recently got back from riding around on his bike. His shoulders are freckled the way I remember, but he’s not so skinny anymore—still lean, but stronger looking. His eyes widen for a split second; then he grins. “What are you doing on this side of the island, little girl?”
My throat feels dry all of a sudden. “Hi, Patrick.” He drawls, “Are you here to see Kat, or me?”
I feel myself blush. “Kat. We—we have a project at school.
Did she finish the SATs?”
“Yeah. She ran out for something. Cigarettes, I think,” he
says, and then he starts eating his cereal again, like it’s perfectly
normal that I’m in his house and he doesn’t have a shirt on.
With his mouth full he asks, “Want some cereal?”
“What kind?”
“Your favorite,” he says, and he points to the seat next to
him. “Sit down.”
Even though I had chicken salad on a croissant an hour ago,
I sit down, and he gets up and brings a box of Trix, which is my
favorite, a jug of milk, and a spoon. He tips more Trix into his
bowl and pushes it so it’s between us.
“Bon appetit, Lil,” he says, handing me the spoon. And then we’re both eating Trix, from the same bowl, and he
smells like outside and wind and motor oil.
I can’t believe Patrick remembered that Trix was my favorite.
I haven’t seen him in years, and also he goes to college now, so
why should he remember anything about me?
It’s funny, because even though my crush on him was
so long ago, sitting across from him now at Kat’s kitchen
table, it feels like yesterday that I loved Patrick and that
Rennie and Kat and I were best friends. RKL till we die. He’s telling me about some philosophy class he’s taking at
the community college, and I’m nodding hard like I’m paying
attention, but all I can think about is how his eyes are green like
evergreen, same as before—when Kat comes home. She looks
surprised to see me, even though we said we were hanging out
this afternoon.
Leaning against the doorway, she says, “What are you guys
doing?”
“Eating cereal. What does it look like?” Patrick says, and I
giggle.
Kat shoots me a strange look. “Bring it up to my room, Lil.”
Then she heads down the hallway.
I stand up. “Do you mind?” I ask him. “If I take it with me?” “Be my guest,” he says.
Cradling the bowl against my chest, I say, “Thanks for the
cereal, Patrick.”
“Anytime, Lil.” He winks at me, and I press my lips together
so I don’t smile. Then I trail after Kat, to her room.
“What the hell was that?” Kat asks me. She’s lounging on her
bed with her shoes on. Ew.
“What?” I say, sinking onto the floor. I know we were supposed to be keeping everything on the DL, but it’s not like it’s
my fault Pat is home.
“You know what,” she says, smirking at me. She shakes her head. “That lowlife is skipping class again. Such a loser. I have no idea why you were always so gaga over my gross brother. He goes to JICC; isn’t that beneath you? ’Cause it’s sure as shit
beneath me.”
Stiffly I say, “I was never gaga over Patrick. Also there’s nothing wrong with community college. He says he’s probably going
to transfer soon anyway.” So I guess Kat’s known all along. I
never told her I had a crush on Patrick; I only told Rennie, who
swore up and down she’d never tell. Yet another betrayal. Kat snorts. “Oh, sweet naive Lil. He ain’t going anywhere.
He has, like, two credits. He’ll be stuck on Jar Island for the rest
of his damn life.”
“How did the SAT go?”
“Hell if I know.”
I concentrate on eating my cereal fast, because it’s getting
soggy. “When’s Mary coming?” I ask, wiping milk off my chin. “I think she said she had to do something with her aunt first,
and then she’d either get a ride from her or bike over.” “Cool,” I say. I drink my sweet cereal milk, and then I put
the bowl down on the carpet. I take off my flats and crawl onto
the bed next to Kat. She scoots over for me. Staring up at the
ceiling I say, “So, um, did Patrick ever say anything about me?” Kat busts out laughing and hits me over the head with her
banana pillow. I laugh too, and then I burst out, “I can’t believe Rennie told you I liked Patrick when she explicitly promised
she never would. She swore on her mom’s life!”
Giggling, Kat says, “Even if she didn’t tell me, it was so
obvious. You used to think up excuses for why we should have
sleepovers over here instead of at Rennie’s!”
“Well, that was partly because of Shep.” My mom is supposedly allergic to dogs, so we’ve never been allowed to have one,
no matter how much we beg. I think it’s because she doesn’t
want a dog on our white furniture. Sitting up, I call out, “Shep!
C’mere, Shep!”
Shep comes bounding into the room, and he jumps on the
bed and kisses my face. I hug him to me. “Hello, sweet boy,” I
say in his ear.
“Remember those skanks Pat used to bring home?” Kat asks
me suddenly. “They were always way older and they’d smoke
inside the house. Remember that one time?”
Of course I remember. I was thirteen during the height of my Patrick crush, so I guess he was fifteen or sixteen at the time, and the girls he hung out with seemed like women to me. They had boobs and they cussed and they rode around on the back of his motorcycle.
There was this one girl, Beth. It was the middle of the day, and Rennie and Kat and I were in the TV room blasting music, practicing a routine from one of those dance movies where people have dance-offs in the rain in a parking lot.
“Lil, you have to roll your h*ps back like this,” Rennie instructed me, demonstrating.
She and Kat started doing it together in perfect unison. “Loosen up, Lil,” Kat said. “You’re too stiff.”
Haltingly, I tried to follow their lead and get the motion. That’s when Patrick and Beth came in. They burst out laughing, and I stopped immediately, but Rennie and Kat ignored them and kept on going, even when they sat down on the couch and watched.