Chapter 19

“She had the kind of look that promised nothing good.”
—Nicholas Metelsky, Changing Masks

WE GOT A LOT DONE on our proposal working together. We were going to request one full week of recordings of all four lunch periods from all four cameras. We figured that at the usual resolution of security cameras—which we had to look up online—that we could get that amount on four DVDs. That would be twenty DVDs for the week. We could get a spindle of 50 DVDs for $25 on Amazon. That should be enough for the project, too. If not, I was pretty sure I could save up enough for another spindle. We’d already been working on the project proposal so we extracted our purpose and method sections to put in the proposal to get the security recordings.

When Pey got home she wanted to find out all about Beca. We had fun trying to explain to my eight-year-old sister about migration patterns. I think she actually got it. Beca’s mom picked her up right at five o’clock, so she was gone before Mom and Dad got home.

30 November 2018

I have such a mix of emotions when I wake up the morning after. My body feels great—alive—full of energy. I guess even my mind seems refreshed and I have a feeling of pride. I’m proud that she still wants me, even though I can handle myself now. But she’s not my lover now because I need her help. She’s my lover because she wants to be loved by me. That’s kind of wild.

I’m also proud that I can fulfill her desires. Me, a half-crippled freshman and her, a pregnant senior who didn’t really love or care for the guy who planted the baby. And she has desires to be fulfilled. She wants something different every time we’re together. I think she’s memorizing the book I gave her. A lot of the things she suggests, I don’t even remember from when I read it.

But in the back of my mind I feel a little guilty, too. First because even though I love her, we’re not in love, like for life or anything. She’s quick to confirm that is the case with her, too, though I see a little wistfulness in her eyes when she says that. Like it could be more if we weren’t in such strange positions. This is the absolute worst time to be three years apart in age. She knows her letter is coming in April. She’ll do her National Service while I’m still in school but then I’ll have to do mine. Everything is out of sync.

Worse than that, though, is that I feel a little guilty about having this kind of relationship with her. She seems so young and vulnerable when I hold her. It’s hard to imagine that I’m not sixty years older than she is.

I was pretty damn proud of myself as I approached our lunch table Friday, carrying my cafeteria tray in one hand with a crutch dangling from my arm while I used the other crutch to keep my balance. I was walking!

“Way to go!” Beca applauded as she took the tray and set it on the table. “Two more weeks and you’ll be dancing in the gym.”

“I promise I’ll be off these, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to dance. It’s not like I’m a great dancer anyway.”

“Now you tell me! How am I supposed to line up a great dancer between now and the Winter Dance? I’ll end up sitting around looking gorgeous and talking to my best friend instead of dancing the night away. You could have mentioned something.”

“Um ... Beca? You never gave me a choice, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. I just ... holy shit! Sit on this side of the table. This is your lucky day.”

“What?” I asked as I moved around beside her.

“Look at that.”

“Christ! Are those yoga pants or just pantyhose?” My eyes went straight to Joan, the shapely blonde who had a new boyfriend every week. I wondered if she could possibly live up to her advertising. Her Friday yoga pants were pretty much sheer. “Is she even wearing underwear?”

“Yeah. You can see the butt floss sticking out above her waistband in back.”

“I can’t believe anyone would wear something like that out in public. Does she know how much she’s showing?”

“Oh, yeah. She knows. She must have had a hard time landing this week’s boy toy. She’s showing him promise.” I watched as I shoveled my taco salad into my mouth, almost forgetting my lunch companion as I contemplated what it would be like to strip that bitch completely and find out if she could deliver on the promise.

“Um ... Beca ... I’m sorry I got distracted. I was...” I looked over at her and saw her absently lift a fork to her mouth as she stared at Joan’s display.

“God, she’s yummy,” Beca mumbled. “Uh ... what was that?”

“You ... uh ... don’t ever dress like that, do you?”

“Hell no. I would if I had her body, though. Hey, guess what! You get off those crutches and when we go out in two weeks, you’ll be the first guy to see my legs in a year. I have such a cute dress. By the way, it’s navy blue so white or pink would be the best colors.”

“Colors?”

“For the flower you get me!”

“Oh, yeah! Of course! I was just imagining you in a navy blue dress. I can’t wait.”

I spent another weekend catching up on classes. The one thing different was that Sunday afternoon, Beca came over to study our Human Geography together. I had one more test to make up before I was officially caught up with the AP class. This test covered the Malthusian Theory that held population grew exponentially while food supply grew arithmetically. The theory proposed in 1798 and predicting a global catastrophe of starvation has never panned out.

We sat next to each other at the dining table and studied while we joked about what the world would be like if Malthus had been right. There were still people who held that the population of earth should be limited and even governments that had tried to enforce a one-child rule, much to the detriment of the population. Since female children had been disposed of, China now had three times the number of available males to females of marriageable age.

“That’s what’s going to happen here,” Em said as she walked by.

“We’re going to have more men than women?” I asked.

“Not exactly. We’re going to have a population cut when the new birth control law gets passed.”

“Isn’t that supposed to reduce the stress on people during their National Service?” Beca asked. I’d never heard of the proposed law so I was just listening.

“That’s the idea,” Em said. “But the law says that every child will be placed on birth control at puberty, defined as menses for a girl and twelve years old for a boy, and will remain on birth control until they have completed their National Service. This will cut down on the number of children separated from parents or in daycare while their parents complete their service.”

“That combats teen pregnancy, right?” I asked, thinking of Francie.

“Yeah. Here’s the rub. Teens account for nearly thirteen percent of childbirths each year. There’s a curve that shows where the most births occur but the point is that thirteen percent of childbirths are going to be delayed until the parents are in their twenties. That means population growth is going to take a ten-year dip.”

“How did you find all this out?” I asked.

“Our senior Constitutional Government class looks at a lot of what is going on today in government and how it relates to the constitution. They know that this one will be challenged in court as soon as it’s passed. I don’t know if it’s a good law or not but it’s a good idea. You should both get on birth control as soon as possible.”

“Both?” I had no idea there was birth control for men. Other than condoms. This was news.

“J, you can’t always expect the woman to be responsible for birth control. A child planted gets half its DNA from the father. Denying paternity like Collin did with Francie doesn’t change who the father is. It’s part of the new law, too. Having girls protected between puberty and twenty-one doesn’t stop boys from getting an older woman pregnant. What’s fair is fair.”

Monday, I got the treadmill up to two miles per hour for twenty minutes. It felt good. It was nice to watch Em getting help as Bill spotted her weight routines. Tony was spotting me and congratulated me on my progress.

“Don’t push it too hard. Is there any way you can come back in the afternoon for another session? Remember, repeated sets are better than increased stress.”

“I didn’t think of doing a second period.”

“If you could come in for the last half hour of the day, I’m in here getting equipment and tape ready for the big boys of football. I can take time to spot you for fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks, Tony. I might not be able to every day. I’ve got a standing appointment for Geometry on Wednesday and sometimes need to meet with another teacher. I’ll ask Jock for a pass for the other days.”

“Uh-oh. Somebody got shut down this weekend,” Beca said as we sat at our usual lunch table. I glanced the direction she was looking but didn’t see anything unusual until Joan turned around at her usual table. She was wearing baggy jeans and an IUPUFW sweatshirt. She was not trolling.