When she got home from school, Nina spent half an hour sitting in front of her computer, not writing a reply to Steve. This was pretty much in keeping with her entire day, which she’d spent composing e-mails in her head that she knew she wasn’t going to be sending to Steve.
In one second she put her fingers on the keys, intending to pour her heart out and tell him that she understood and that they weren’t really starting again since as far as she was concerned nothing had ever really changed—her love was true and constant and she knew it would all be all right in the end. Then she’d curl up her fingers, and the next time she went to type, she planned to write a stunning description of Parker’s many fine attributes, concentrating on his single-minded devotion to her happiness. (All phrased in the most apologetic terms possible. Rub his nose in her goodness. Make the boy suffer a bit.)
In the end, all she did was bring up a blank note and open and close it a few times. She wasted the entire afternoon that way, and before she knew it, it was dark. Parker would be on his way soon.
“It’s all ready,” he said as she climbed into the Roach an hour later.
“You’ll see.”
He turned left and headed back toward school. Nina was surprised when he turned into one of the back lots and parked.
“We’re going back to school?” she said. “Is there another sign?”
“Ask no questions!”
Parker led her around to one of the doors near the gym. Even from the parking lot, she could hear a chorus unevenly singing a bright show tune. She’d forgotten that rehearsals for the spring musical had just started. She listened as the group worked through a line or two and then stopped and restarted, getting only a bit further each time, chopping their way through the score with rough, loud strokes.
It was eerily dark in the hall outside the gym. Nina had been in school plenty of times after hours, but that was always for official reasons, and she rarely strayed much farther than the council office. Parker took her back along the hallway with all of the trophy cases. He stopped in front of the double doors of the main lecture hall, where they showed movies and had smaller, single-class assemblies. He produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.
“How’d you get that?” Nina asked.
“I know one of the AV guys.”
“They give AV guys keys?” Nina asked, feeling a little jealous. “I’m the president of the council and I don’t even get a key to the council office.”
“It’s one of those secret power positions,” Parker explained, holding the door open for her.
The auditorium was even darker than the hallway. Nina heard Parker somewhere in the shadows, and a moment later the room was partially illuminated. He came over and took her hand and led her down to the center aisle. In the middle there was a small pail of snow chilling several sodas and a pint of ice cream. Stretched between the armrests of one of the seats was a cloth-covered piece of cardboard, which had several large boxes of candy, a bag of multicolored gourmet chips, and a small bouquet of flowers.
“Movie is your choice,” Parker said. He opened up a back-pack, which was there on the floor, to reveal a stack of brand-new DVDs, still in the shrink-wrap.
“Where did you get all of those?”
“Ah, the power of credit cards and returns,” he said. “Just pick which one you want to see.”
Nina shuffled through the pile. Parker was leaning over, watching her reaction to everything, and her reaction was definitely becoming stranger and more strained.
“Doesn’t have to be a movie,” he said. “We could always debate current events.”
“No, it’s great, it’s just …”
“Just what?”
“I have this problem,” she said.
“Oh.” He leaned back and stroked an imaginary beard. “Problems. I’m good with those. Lay one on me.”
“Steve wrote to me today.”
Evidently this was not what Parker was expecting to hear.
“Well, yeah. But … there was more.”
“More what?”
“He wants to get back together. He broke up with the other girl.”
“That’s great.” Parker sat back and stared at the blank screen.
“Park …”
“Of course, this is the guy who didn’t even think to write to you for like two months.”
“There was a reason.”
“I guess there was. What, did he have a really slow Internet connection?”
“He’s not a bad guy,” Nina said. “Actually, you’re both really great people.”
This was supposed to be a compliment, but from the look on Parker’s face, Nina got the idea that he didn’t see the great honor in being compared to Steve.
“He dated some other girl. He never wrote. He never called. How great a guy can he be?”
“I think,” Nina said diplomatically, “that it was just hard being apart. I know it was for me. And we’re going to the same school in the fall.”
“So it’ll be more convenient?“
“Look,” Nina said, “we’re not dating, remember? I’m not even sure what to do about him, anyway. I’m just telling you.“
Parker didn’t answer. He grabbed the bag of chips and began squeezing it between the tips of his fingers, crushing the contents little by little. That’s when it really hit her. This was not a casual thing to Parker. He’d been playing along the whole time, pretending like it was casual, because he knew that was what she wanted. Now the truth was in his face. His scowl. The fact that he wouldn’t look at her.
“Can we just talk this out?” she said cautiously.
“Talk it out? What’s there to talk out? Your asshole ex is back.” He slumped petulantly in his seat.
This was too much. It would be all right for her to call Steve an asshole, but not Parker. Now he was sulking, but Nina was sure there was something even bigger lurking underneath. Something really painful.
“I’m going to go,” she said quickly, reaching for her coat. She looked around at the many things he’d brought for her, unsure what to do with them. Taking them would seem greedy. Leaving them behind would be insulting. She compromised and grabbed the flowers. There was nothing he could do with them, at least. The rest—the food, the movies—he could keep all of that.
Her sudden movement startled him, and he stood up.
“No,” he said. “It’s fine.”
“I’m going, Park.”
“Let’s just watch the movie. It’s all good.”
She was already out of the aisle.
“Whatever.” His voice cracked a little. “He’s just going to do it again. I guess that’s what you want. Some dickhead who doesn’t even …”
“Just shut up, will you?” Nina was angry now. “You don’t know him. You have no idea what he’s like.”
“I could guess. Birks? Light on the showers? Does he use one of those crystals instead of deodorant? Oh, and cheats on you. Forgot cheats on you. You’re right. I can see the appeal.”
“He’s done more than you ever have. Sorry he doesn’t spend all his time screwing around online and messing with signs. What’s your big contribution? You don’t do anything.“
She didn’t mean to say it. It just came out. Steve had to be defended. And it was true, after all. Steve fought for things. Steve suffered. Steve bought vacuums and helped people and got scholarships and was mature. Parker was just a guy with a bag of DVDs and some ice cream, standing in the middle of the auditorium, looking like a kid who just lost his soccer ball.
More than that. Looking very hurt.
“I drove,” he mumbled.
“I’ll walk.”
“Neen …”
But Nina was already out the door.
Nina took a strange route home, weaving from street to street and cutting through parking lots so that the chances of Parker driving by and seeing her were minimized. She was SO absorbed in her evasive tactics that she was halfway home before she remembered that she had an important phone call to make.
Mel’s dad picked up the phone and seemed surprisingly happy to hear Nina’s voice.
“So, I heard the big news,” he said. It took Nina a moment to remember that there were other traumas going on tonight and Mel’s had a much greater explosive potential.
“Oh,” Nina said cautiously. “That’s good. That’s really good.”
“I wasn’t really surprised, though.”
“No?”
“I always had a feeling.”
“Really?”
“Always.”
Nina was floored. Mr. Forrest was the coolest dad ever and way more perceptive than she’d ever been. He’d always been a nice guy, but who knew the depth of his awareness and openness until now? At least one good thing had come out of today.
“I’m really happy to hear that,” Nina said, feeling her eyes tearing up a little again. “I wish Mel had told you sooner.”
“Well, I know now, and I think it’s great.”
“I knew you’d be fine with it,” Nina fibbed a bit. “And you know, there are lots of groups for parents in case you wanted to talk to some other people.”
“Groups? For parents?”
“Support groups and pride groups—I love my gay teenager, that kind of thing. Maybe you can go with Avery’s parents.”
The pause that followed was just slightly too long.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Wrong tone. Definitely the wrong tone.
“Is Mel there?” she asked quickly.
“Hold on….” Again his voice was too deep.
Nina swallowed her panic. Maybe everything was fine. Maybe she hadn’t just made the life-altering mistake she thought she had.
Mel sounded slightly guilty when she got on the phone and said hi.
“Just say yes or no,” Nina said quickly. “Did you tell your dad?”
“Um …”
“Say yes or no!”
“No.”
“Oh my God.”
“But I will,” Mel insisted. “I was going to, and then I just bailed. But I will. Definitely this week. Don’t be mad….”
“Is your dad still there?” Nina asked frantically. “Like, right there?”
“Yeah.”
“Move away,” Nina said, her panic growing. “Go in the other room.”
Nina could hear her walking along the hall by her staircase.
“I moved,” Mel said.
“What big news did your dad hear?”
“What?”
“He said he heard the big news.”
“About you and Stanford,” Mel replied after a moment. “I guess you probably haven’t spoken to him since you got in.”
Everything was spinning down, down, down….
“Okay,” she said slowly, “I think I just did something.”
“I think I just outed you.”
Silence on Mel’s end.
“It sounded like you told him,” Nina added quickly. “It seemed like he knew.”
Still nothing.
“Mel?”
“I think I’d better go,” Mel said.
When Mel had hung up, Nina touched the buttons on her phone, tapping out Steve’s number without actually pushing hard enough to dial.
Mel set the phone down on her dresser. She could still hear the television coming from downstairs, which seemed like a good sign. Actually, she was ready to interpret anything as a good sign. She decided to spend the rest of the night in her room. If necessary, she would spend the rest of the week in her room.
Within about five minutes she heard a creak in the hall. The soft knock followed, and her dad cracked open the door to her room. He stood there in his white undershirt and jeans, looking lost. He didn’t offer up any small talk—no hi’s or what are you up to’s.
The phone started ringing. Neither of them moved for it.
“Nina said something on the phone just now,” he said.
He looked at all of her little decorative boxes and picture frames that sat on her bureau. He saw the shadow box collage that she had made of the Triangle when she was thirteen. Something about it seemed to disturb him. He shook his head and turned back to her.
“Do you want to tell me anything?” he asked.
Mel had hoped that when this moment came, she would declare herself proudly. But instead heaving sobs just came up, even though she wasn’t ashamed or sad. She clawed her fingers into her pillow and tried to speak.
He didn’t come any closer. He lingered where he was in the pocket of shadow between the hallway light and the muted glow of Mel’s blue-shaded bedside lamp.
“I’ll have to talk to your mom …” he mumbled.
“Okay.” Mel was still gulping back tears.
She wanted him to say something else. Anything would have been fine. He appeared to be searching for the words but then gave up on the effort, wished her a good night, and quietly closed the door.