Chapter 40: Presumptions

It felt weird finally going back to school after being away for six days. I hadn't set foot in the school since Friday night, and I hadn't been in a classroom since Tuesday afternoon the week before.

I was greeted warmly enough. Everyone wanted to know how I was doing, and if the rumors were true about Charlotte and I breaking up, and then getting back together again. Were we together or weren't we? What was the latest?

After explaining it to five different people I'd developed a standard response:

"Yeah, we are back together. We gave our heads a shake and decided to work it out."

"Aw! That's so awesome!"

"You're such a sweetie!"

"I'm so happy for you!"

"Right on, man."

"Good for you guys. You're a beautiful couple."

Finally I got to my locker.

"Anthony! How are you!? Are you and Charlotte back together? I heard someone saying-"

"Yeah, we are back together. We gave our heads a shake and decided to work it out."

"Oh! Good! I'm so happy for you guys!"

"Thanks, Justine."

"Is she here today? I so have to talk to her about everything."

"I think she said she might come in this afternoon. She was pretty sick this morning."

"Oh my god! Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She just had a rough weekend. Her sister's mom died last night."

"She has a sister!?"

"Yup. Amy. Didn't you see her at the dance?"

"Oh! That little girl with the dark hair! That was her sister?"

"Yeah. Her mom died last night."

"That's awful!"

"Well Charlotte didn't really know her, but she's still pretty shaken up."

"I feel so bad for her! First this whole break-up thing, and then a family member dies! Oh my god!"

"Well, give her a hug when you see her."

"I will."

And she hurried away, probably to tell a friend the new gossip.

"Anthony!" another girl called out. "How are you? I heard you and Charlotte are back together."

And it went on and on until I got to my classroom.

To say I had trouble concentrating on class lectures was the understatement of the year. I didn't hear a word that was said the entire day. My mind was completely lost in thoughts of Charlotte, of Amy, of Sheila, of the baby.

Charlotte was pregnant. And though I was almost 100% certain it was mine, doubts still nagged me, heckling from the peanut gallery in my mind. "You're gonna raise another guy's baby! Have fun wiping up puke and shit for 18 years, knowing it's not even your kid, sucker!"

"Shut up, asshole!" I said to the irritating voice in my head. The voice was me though, at least a part of me, and I didn't know how to shut it up.

Amy was on the other side of the continent, probably crying her eyes out, in a constant state of agony. Where would she stay? How was she gonna say goodbye to all her friends and the home she grew up in—everything she knows—if she had to move in with the Lawsens? I was so glad Ron was with her. It would be a rough time for her to say the least, but at least she was getting some good one-on-one time with her dad, finally.

"Yeah, and she's gonna tell him about how she fucked your big fat cock and he'll castrate you for raping his 13 year old daughter and cheating on Charlotte at the same time! Ha ha! You're doomed, sucker!"

Fuck off, asshole!

And then there was Sheila. What was I gonna do about her? The first thing I have to do is apologize for being so blind. That was the only thing I was sure about. After that, I had no idea. I had to somehow tell her that Charlotte and I were back together after all, and that I loved her dearly, but only as a friend.

"Except when you feel like using her for a quick fuck, right Anthony? Hey, maybe you can tell her about how you nearly fucked her mom as well, ask them to hook you up with a threesome. She'd love that!"

"Fuck the hell off! Dammit!"

The teacher's chalk froze halfway through the letter N he'd been writing on the blackboard. He turned around and looked at me. They all did. Apparently I'd yelled out loud that time.

"Anthony, if you're having trouble with the way I teach algebra, perhaps you'd like to take over."

He held out the chalk to me, raising his eyebrows.

"Sorry. I wasn't talking to you. I don't know where that came from. I'm just a little tired."

"For someone who missed an entire week of school, except to arrive at Friday night's dance, you'd think you'd be perfectly rested, hmm?"

I didn't reply. The teacher resumed his lesson and I hid my face in my hands.

A few minutes later a note dropped onto my desk.

WORN OUT FROM ALL THAT HOT MAKE-UP SEX WITH CHARLOTTE?

I looked up. Geraldine Meskaleck was grinning at me from the next row over. I smiled at her. I shrugged. She wrote another note and passed it to a friend, who passed it to me.

I'M HAPPY FOR YOU GUYS. BUT DAMMIT I WAS HOPING YOU MIGHT GO OUT WITH ME ONCE YOU GOT OVER HER.

I wrote a reply: If you be nice to her, she might share.

And she answered: SLOPPY SECONDS AIN'T MY STYLE. IF I HAVE YOU I WANT YOU ALL TO MYSELF.

I wasn't sure if that was normal and sensible and appealing to me, the idea of one guy/one girl in a normal exclusive relationship. Part of me thought that was the most beautiful thing in the world, and I actually pictured myself with Gerri, walking hand in hand down the hallway, just me and her and no one else. No weirdness, chaos, or hang-ups. But another part of me was a little offended at her selfishness, her ego, her presumption of digging her hooks into me like she owned me. Was that really normal? Maybe it was just what everyone was so used to in our society, the idea of laying claim to another human being just because they'd been inside your vagina. It seemed alien to me, and yet completely normal at the same time. I was confused.

Finally I decided I was just a little confused because I'd grown so used to the Lawsens' relationship, the idea of just loving someone for who they are, and being loved back, purely and truly, without feeling like it's diminished or destroyed somehow just because you share your body with someone else once in a while. They had something very special indeed. But was it normal? What is normal?

How come a person can love Beethoven and Mozart without feeling like you're cheating on one of them, but you can't love more than one human being? How come you can enjoy a beautiful sunrise and a gorgeous sunset and not feel like you're betraying the other one, but when two beautiful girls come along, you have to choose one or the other? How come a parent can love any number of children, but if they love more than one spouse it's considered a sin, evil betrayal, treachery? Who made these rules and why?

It all came down to religion I suppose, the Ten Commandments and all. But I think all these religions and their jealous gods were written up by some jerk-off who didn't like the idea that his woman was eyeing up another guy with a bigger dick. The real God, I believed, would be jealous of no one. Mankind is so damn presumptuous.

I was sitting there thinking about all this, lost in thought, when another note from Gerri dropped on my desk.

WELL, KEEP ME IN MIND ANYWAY. IF YOU AND HER SPLIT UP AGAIN I WANNA BE FIRST IN LINE.

Geraldine Meskaleck was hot and all, but she was no Charlotte Lawsen. I was actually a little offended by her, positioning herself to devour the carcass of our love, when Charlotte and I had just barely gotten back together again. Speaking of presumption.

I wrote back: "Well, it may be a while. Charlotte and I are talking about forever now. No more games."

And she wrote back: TOO BAD. I GUESS I'LL HAVE TO GIVE MY CHERRY AWAY TO SOMEONE ELSE.

Geraldine Meskaleck was a virgin? Who'd have thought? My eyes widened at her. She nodded, reading the question in my gaze. Then she turned back to her book and the dialog ended.

Cherries. Virginity. Blood and pain and burning agony. Sacrifice. I guess that was part of the answer, at least for women anyway. They had to go through a hell of a lot for the man they chose as their first. He'd better be decent enough to earn it. He'd better at least offer her the security of loving her forever, and never leave her worrying that someone else means more to him than she does. I understood that much.

And then I thought of Sheila once again, and my heart ached for her. Dammit all! Why did she have to be so beautiful? Why couldn't she be a presumptuous little wench, like Geraldine? I had no problem blowing her off. Now I had to make one of the toughest decisions of my life, and hurt a girl who'd given up everything for me.

But I realized that the damage was already done. Sheila already knew she'd lost me. She already knew I'd chosen Charlotte. She'd helped me in fact. She'd faced the truth and let me go. Her heart had already been broken for a while now.

"You keep a picture of me in your porn stash?"

"A girl can dream can't she?"

How could I have been so blind?

My love for Charlotte had blinded me. It would probably have been more amazing if I had thought about anything other than those beautiful eyes of Charlotte's, and that body, and those hugs, the dozens and dozens of mind-wrecking orgasms, the joy of being her first love. Sheila had been doomed from the start.

And that's why she wept that first time I made love to her. I was confused at the time, but I understood now. I think that was when I'd first broken her heart.

Oh, Sheila! Please do yourself a favor and just let me go!

And then Sheila's words echoed in my mind again, from Friday afternoon when I'd left Charlotte in bed with Vincenzo and Jade.

"Sometimes you gotta love someone for who they are, no matter how much they hurt you, no matter how much they disappoint you when you believe in them, no matter how blind and stupid they are. Sometimes you can't help it no matter how hard you try."

Yes, blind and stupid. That was me to a tee.

I guess there was no letting go. Once you love someone, you love them forever. It's not wrong. It's just tragic.

The class was over. I gathered up my books and left.

I phoned Charlotte at lunch, just to say hi. She said she was feeling better, spending time with mom, just laying on the couch watching old movies, and having girl talk and stuff. I was happy for her.

"We're gonna have to tell them eventually," I said, after a pause. I didn't have to tell her what I meant.

"I know. Every time I think about it, I feel like I'm gonna puke."

"I'll be there with you, when you tell them. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried about that. I just feel like crap in general, ya know?"

I told her to take it easy and enjoy the movies. I told her I'd come see her for a while after I stopped in at Sheila's. She wished me luck with that and I said goodbye.

That's when I noticed some graffiti by the payphone next to me.

For a good fuck, call Charlotte Lawsen. She swallows everything! And her number was written underneath it.

"FUCK!"

I scribbled it out and scanned around for more. There was nothing else written but I did notice something else interesting:

T.M. was here! 03/14/02

It was the same hand writing as the Charlotte graffiti. T.M.? It could only be one person. And it was last Thursday.

Anthony James Mitchell is a fag!

Same handwriting. Nice. When do you turn twelve, asshole?

The personal attack I could shrug off. It was childish and stupid, and everyone in the entire school knew I was a great guy. He'd gotten his ass kicked and he was just lashing back. Fine. Whatever.

I couldn't deal with him writing Charlotte's number everywhere though. That had to stop, and right fucking now.

"We've got a problem, Mick. Can you back me up in a scrap?"

I slammed my lunch tray down onto the table and he grabbed one of my French fries.

"You even have to ask?"

"It seems a certain T.M. has been writing graffiti about Charlotte and I all over the school, by the phones, in the bathroom stalls, on the back doors. It's everywhere."

"T.M.?"

"I kicked his ass last week in the hallway. He'd been insulting Charlotte, so I punched him out."

"Trevor Miller?"

"Yeah. Now he's got shit scribbled all over the school. 'C.L. is a whore', 'A.M. sucks cocks', 'For a good time call... ', that type of shit. It's everywhere."

"How do you know it's him?"

"The idiot signed his own name, a few feet away, in the same hand writing."

"So he's a dead man then. It's a done deal. When?"

It felt good to know that Mick was in my corner without question. All I had to do was say who and why and the rest was pretty much assumed. Friends are awesome.

"Can I trust you with something else, Mick? I got a real problem."

"About what?"

"Let's go for a walk."

I took my cardboard tray of fries and my drink, Mick grabbed up his book bag, and we walked out onto the football field behind the school. I gave him the whole run-down on Charlotte's pregnancy.

"So you're pretty much fucked."

"In a way I guess. On the other hand, it means Charlotte is mine forever, and that's nothing to be too upset about."

"Her dad gonna string you up by your balls though?"

"I don't think so. He gave me a $50,000 car last night."

"Which one!? The red one!? Oh my fucking god!"

"Yeah. Amazing, huh?"

"Holy fuck! You lucky bastard! The hottest chick in school, and now a hot sports car. It doesn't get any better than that."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

"But now you're gonna have to tell him you knocked up his sixteen-year-old daughter. Ouch!"

"Well, I'm trying to just worry about that when it happens. It's not gonna be pretty, but I think they'll understand. They know I'm not gonna screw her over or anything. They know I love her."