fifteen

RORY AND SETH STOOD IN THE parking lot of the Hawthorne Unitarian Church, looking like mismatched brothers. They both wore khaki pants and blue blazers, but Rory’s was too big for him, his fingers barely peeking out of the sleeves. As big as he was, he still looked like a little kid. And me, I must’ve looked like the biggest dork on the planet. Wearing this ridiculous skirt-and-blouse combo Janet bought me for some Tennis Club luncheon. It had giant flowers on it. Not exactly the Dana Scully Power Suit.

“Hey, what’re you doing here?” Seth seemed baffled at my presence. Maybe this was a mistake.

“I wanted to see if you were right. If it still smells like books.” I was suddenly afraid that Seth had forgotten our whole conversation that night at his party. Rory just stood there, examining me beneath the cloudy sky.

“Right on,” Seth nodded, and I felt relieved he wasn’t laughing at me for showing up out of the blue. “Let’s get inside before it rains.”

I somehow managed to get shuffled into the aisle between Rory and Seth. Seth’s mom, sitting at the end of the pew, gave me a little wave hello. Seth’s dad sat up at the front, beside a simple wooden lectern. I looked around. It was different from the First Baptist Church, that was for sure. Smaller and more casual. Some kids—and even some adults—were wearing jeans. I recognized a few of the guys from the Uno game at Seth’s party. Our seventh grade science teacher, Mr. Brantley, was singing in the choir. They sang a few songs, we stood up, we sat down, we stood up again. A woman with her hair in a long gray braid stood up and reminded us to donate to the food bank’s can drive. Then Seth’s father stood up and began his sermon.

There I was, with Rory on my right and Sexy Seth on my left. I was trying to pay attention to what Seth’s dad was saying, but I couldn’t really focus. I kept wanting to stand up and yell out: Aren’t either of you going to acknowledge how awkward this is? It was the first time I’d been this close to Rory in forever, and it was in a church, of all places. But then, a funny thing happened. I realized that I wasn’t thinking impure thoughts about him. I wasn’t angry at him. I didn’t want anything from him except to be friends again. And if we couldn’t be friends, I was glad that he had Seth, and Seth’s family, looking out for him. Okay, God. Wherever you are. I’m officially releasing Rory to your care. Just make sure he stays in school and eats a decent meal every once in a while, okay?

Was that a prayer? Was I even allowed to pray? Maybe I could ask Seth’s dad about it after the show. I tried to focus on the sermon again, but I was too busy thinking about myself. Typical Lula. But then, another funny thing happened. I actually started thinking about God. Actually, I was thinking about The X-Files. Again, typical. But I remembered how, on the show, it’s a big deal that Scully was raised Catholic, and she maintained her faith in God through the whole thing, but she never believed in extraterrestrial life until the end of the series, when she grudgingly admitted that she’d seen too much not to believe. Mulder believed in aliens, but did he ever end up believing in God? Not that I could remember.

Why was it so easy for some people to believe in God, like Jenny and her family? They just got up every Sunday and did the whole shebang, dressy clothes and hallelujahs. But some people didn’t believe in anything they couldn’t see. And frankly, I could sympathize. I didn’t want to believe that the mysteries of the world were unsolvable. On the other hand, it seems the best stuff is always so nebulous. I thought back to when I first went horseback riding with Walter, and we watched the sunset through the clouds. If I had to, I could’ve recited back facts to explain it all. I could’ve made Mr. Badfinger’s head spin with everything I knew about clouds and the atmosphere and the tilt of the earth from the sun. But no equation on a page ever made me feel like I did in that hushed clearing, watching the sun turn the sky the colors of fire, the fields beneath us glowing like the glassy underneath of the sea.

I thought about Walter, who thanked God for my mother and black coffee every day. Who felt sure that God had put him in the exact place he was supposed to be, despite the fact that he had no idea whether God was some all-seeing humanoid overseeing our daily meanderings from a high-altitude Fortress of Solitude, or some cosmic force on the level of black holes or solar flares that caused regular joes like him to fall in love with prickly, emotionally unavailable women like my mom. I thought about Janet and Leo. Rory and Andy. Jay and Carol. Sam Lidell and her husband, meeting in an airport. My own mom and dad. Did God bring people together, or was it fate? Accident or luck? Love was a pretty nebulous thing, too. Had I ever really been in love? Would I ever know if I was or not? Was there an equation for love? Was it quantifiable? Or did it just move through you somehow, like some spirit breath?

Okay, one day in church, and already I was noodling away on some trippy spiritual nonsense. I glanced over toward Seth, who glanced back at me. Blushing, I faced front again. He probably thought I was such a dork. Rory’s little sister, tagging along. Or maybe he didn’t. I thought about how we both used to listen to Midnight Pete. And now there we were, both of us zoning out to the same sermon. I looked down at Seth’s foot tapping along to a beat only he could hear. I almost laughed. The only thing in Seth’s head was football stats and Guided by Voices songs, probably. I looked back at Rory, who sat ramrod-straight, watching Seth’s dad. I nudged him gently in the ribs.

“Psst,” I whispered. I was quickly formulating a good joke. “Wh—”

“Shh,” Rory replied. Shh? He shushed me? Theodore Callahan, my former best friend, just shushed me in church. Well, I never. Seth looked over at me and smiled.

“Gum?” he asked quietly, offering me the pack. I took a piece. It tasted strange, like licorice and grass.

“What kind of gum is this?” I whispered again.

“It’s all-natural,” he explained.

“Seth. Twigs and bark are natural, but it doesn’t mean they taste good.”

At that, Seth snorted a big laugh that he covered with a cough. Rory and Seth’s mom both leaned over and shushed us.

Seth’s dad cracked a few jokes of his own, then wrapped it up with another prayer. He reminded us to sign up for the Habitat for Humanity build and that the ladies’ yoga class in the Free Room had been changed to Thursday nights. One more song from the choir, and we were free to go.

“What’d you think?” Seth asked me when it was all said and done. I decided I better not tell him all my weird rambling thoughts about Agent Scully and God.

“You were right. It still smells like books.”

He smiled. “We’ve got Krispy Kremes and coffee in the rec room, if you wanna hang out, do the whole meet-n-greet thing.”

“That’s okay. I told Janet I’d be home for lunch.”

“Oh. Well, good to see you, anyway.” Seth hugged me again. I was starting to get the drift. He’s a hugger. “Come back sometime. Anytime you like.”

“Thanks. Maybe I will,” I told him. They weren’t so bad, the Unitarians. And if I came back, next time, I’d wear jeans. Seth drifted off to say hello to his church friends, leaving me and Rory standing there, tugging at the sleeves of our mutually ill-fitting costumes.

“Looked like you’re getting the hang of it,” I remarked.

“The hang of what?”

“Y’know. The whole church thing. Praise the Lord, et cetera.”

“It’s not like that,” Rory squinted. The rainclouds had blown away while we were inside, and the sun had broken out, all brilliant. “Things got pretty bad there, for a while. They really helped me out.”

“Rory! How are you today?” A bearded guy in a corduroy blazer came by and squeezed Rory’s shoulder, as if on cue.

“Doing well, thanks. How are you, Mr. Dunn?”

“Never better, kiddo! Hey, don’t forget to give me a call when you’re ready to bring the Buick over. It’s an easy fix—we can work on it this afternoon if you like.”

“Will do, sir. I’ll give you a call when I get home.”

“Excellent! I’ll have Margie thaw some chicken, too, unless the Brocks have big plans for dinner.”

“We usually just order Chinese on Sunday nights.”

“All right, then! Dinner at our place.”

“Sounds good.”

“Terrific! Good to see you!” Mr. Dunn gave us the thumbs-up and went off to work the rest of the parking lot crowd.

“You know, you could’ve gone to Janet and Leo’s,” I told him. “Even if I wasn’t there. Janet would’ve taken care of you. When you left your mom’s.”

“Yeah, well,” Rory shrugged inside of his giant coat. “I guess I thought if you could make it on your own, I could, too.”

“I wouldn’t say I ‘made it,’ exactly,” I said.

“Either way,” Rory said. “We survived, didn’t we?”

“I guess we did.”

“Rory, honey,” a gray-haired lady in a sweatshirt that said IF YOU CAN READ THIS, THANK A TEACHER put her arm around Rory. “I hope you’re coming back to the rec room—I made your favorite banana bread!”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m on my way.”

“We’ve got to feed this growing boy!” The woman patted Rory’s back, laughing. “And you’re invited, too, dear,” she said to me.

“Thank you, ma’am, but I have to run.” I told her, feeling like I did want to run. I could feel myself on the verge of tears again, but I didn’t feel like crying because I was upset. On the contrary, I was suddenly overjoyed. While I’d been off looking for my mother, Rory had somehow managed to find an entire family.

It was a relief. Whatever happened to me, my former best friend was going to be okay.

LATER THAT NIGHT, I WAS ONLINE, watching Guided by Voices videos on YouTube, when my IM screen popped up.

SpookyKid: Are you listening to Midnight Steve?

Rory!

BloomOrphan: no. should I be?

SpookyKid: quick turn it on!

I OPENED THE COLLEGE WEBSITE AND turned on the radio stream. Put on my headphones and listened.

“Lula, huh? I hear that name a lot.” It was Midnight Steve! Was he talking about me?! “Lula, honey, whoever you are, you must be breaking hearts all over town. So, what can I play for you, Seth?”

Seth! Seth was requesting a song for me on Midnight Steve?

“Um, I’d like to hear ‘Learning to Hunt,’ by Guided by Voices. Going out to Lula, if she’s listening.”

“Uhh . . . pick again, kiddo. Midnight Steve doesn’t have that tune in the ol’ library.”

Ugh, Midnight Steve. He always did this. Got callers on the request line and then couldn’t play their request. So lame.

“How about ‘Hold On Hope,’ also by Guided by Voices?” Seth asked. “Or ‘Acorns & Orioles’? It’s on an album Midnight Pete used to have, it’s called Under the Bushes Under the—”

“How ’bout we give Lula some Coldplay, Seth?”

“I . . . don’t think she likes Coldplay.”

“Everybody likes Coldplay! Lula, wherever you are, here’s a little Coldplay action comin’ atcha from your buddy Seth and me, Midnight Steve, here on 88.2 FM.”

I took my headphones off as the song started and typed a new message to Rory.

BloomOrphan: for the record, i do not like coldplay.

SpookyKid: lol.

BloomOrphan: srsly. what’s he up to?

SpookyKid: I think he likes you.

BloomOrphan: pfft! sexy seth? no way. besides isn’t he dating lori whatserface?

SpookyKid: She dumped him last spring for some college guy. He’s making you a mixtape. Seth, I mean, not college guy.

BloomOrphan: yeah, he said he wanted to turn me on to guided by voices.

SpookyKid: His fave band. He couldn’t believe you knew who they were.

BloomOrphan: blame midnight pete. anyway, I only knew like one song. and it was from the buffy soundtrack.

SpookyKid: Don’t worry. Hang around Seth long enough, you’ll never be able to get Echos Myron out of your head.

BloomOrphan: who?

SpookyKid: GBV song. From Bee Thousand. (I can’t believe I know that.)

BloomOrphan: lol! did he make you a mixtape, too?

SpookyKid: No, but he’s always playing it. Guess I caught the bug. BTW, he was really impressed you showed up at church today.

BloomOrphan: I was impressed with myself. I never have to get up that early anymore. afternoon classes.

SpookyKid: Lucky you. Are you coming to homecoming next week?

BloomOrphan: not sure. I don’t go to school there anymore.

SpookyKid: jst wondering

BloomOrphan: are you going?

SpookyKid: Yes, if you can believe it.

BloomOrphan: do you have a date?

SpookyKid: Yeah, sort of. Seth doesn’t.

A-ha! I get it now. He’s trying to fix me up with his Insta-Brother.

BloomOrphan: maybe I’ll put in a cameo appearance.

SpookyKid: Swell. I’ll get you a ticket. It’ll be fun. Pirate theme.

BloomOrphan: Arr, matey! I always wanted a peg leg . . .

SpookyKid: :)