Chapter 6

It was a little more than a year later before I would catch up with Greg and crew again. We had kept in touch with phone calls and e-mails but their life was hectic and mine was just beginning to feel real.

I didn't catch on at the private school near Pembroke but I did land at Lake Howard Preparatory just minutes outside Boston. I finally had enough money — counting the royalties from Trio — to move into a nicer place.

It was during my orientation session at Lake Howard when I met Melissa. We were too much alike to be more than friends but we were so much alike that it seemed we were destined to be best friends and hopefully more.

As it was, we started a casual friendship made every part of my life better. I was a year younger than she and Melissa went out of her way to make sure I knew the ropes.

"Gah, last year was hell for me," she said. "All these old cocksuckers just looked down their noses at me. The administrator made me take out my nose piercing. What the hell is that about?"

I could supply no answers but I did mention that some of our students' parents probably would be a bit put off by seeing a pierced nose.

"Stuffy old bastards," she said. "The men are probably banging their secretaries and the women probably have their nipples pierced. Hell, half the chicks here probably are just waiting until they can land a fake ID to get a tramp stamp and a pierced clit."

I laughed and shook my head. I suspected I might have difficulty relating to the students anyway. Now I had to hope that I didn't picture their piercings and tattoos in my dreams.

"How about the boys?" I asked with a smile. "What's their major malfunction?"

"Hah!" Melissa said gleefully. "Half can't decide if they want to be gay just to piss off daddy or if they want to knock up some trailer parker to piss off mommy. But they're certain they want to piss off one of them. The girls are deciding between bringing home a black kid or becoming a lipstick lesbian. You gotta remember, Todd, these precious little snowflakes are just so misunderstood."

"Have you considered public school?" I wondered aloud.

"Unlike the truly altruistic, I'm in teaching for the money," she said. "I can put up with the L. Ron Huffington The Thirds for $42,000 a year and summers off."

She turned serious for a moment.

"Honestly, the kids aren't that bad," she said. "Sure, some of them are pains in the ass. But most of them really are just misunderstood. They've been raised by nannies and stepparents and they've never had a moment's worth of discipline in their lives. Don't tell anyone but the reason I came here is because I was just like them."

"That explains the nose ring," I said with a smile. "Wanna show me your tramp stamp?"

She stuck her tongue out at me.

"My tat is a little lower," she said. "Maybe you'll see my kitty one day."

"I meant my tattoo, you pervert," she said when I glanced at her lap. "It's on my hip."

Melissa and I hit it off immediately. I liked her, I'll confess to that. She brought out my cynical side that I thought I'd hidden and she appreciated my less-than-fully-developed sense of humor. Still, we went almost everywhere together — but always as friends.

But, as with Kellie initially, being friends with Melissa was good enough most of the time.

Unfortunately, Melissa was a huge fan of Trio. I had never mentioned that I knew Greg, Kellie or Carrie. I had never mentioned that I once performed with them.

Those were portions of my life that I kept only for me. Melissa had boundaries as well. She didn't talk about her parents or growing up at all. It was as if both of our lives started when we hit 18. I wasn't offended by it and she didn't seem to be either.

We were driving to a Red Sox game one Friday afternoon when she suddenly cranked the radio.

"I love this song!" she shouted and started singing along with Kellie. I didn't recognize the lyrics and I was trying to negotiate traffic, so I paid little attention. But it was still one of Trio's finer efforts.

My mind went to the past and for a few moments I was lost in my reverie.

"Are you listening to me?" Melissa said as she slapped my arm.

"Of course not," I replied. "I have learned that I gain nothing from paying attention to you the first time you tell me something. Invariably you'll repeat it a dozen times in the next couple of days."

She stuck her tongue out at me. She did that a lot. I wondered if there was a hidden meaning.

"Listen to me," she shouted and I was pulled back from wondering about Melissa's tongue and if it had ever been pierced.

"I swear to God, I'm going to swat you one," she threatened. Now I was listening. With Melissa, an opportunity to playfully pinch, punch, slap or tickle me was rarely missed.

"What?" I asked.

She sat there looking at me.

"I fucking forgot," she said. "Damn you! What was it?"

She sat for another minute.

"Oh yeah," she exclaimed. "Wasn't that a great song?"

"I wasn't listening," I replied. "Sorry. I know they're one of your favorites."

"They're in town for two days next month," she said. "If I can score tickets, I'm going."

"I can probably get you tickets," I said.

She rolled her eyes.

"They sold out in like 20 minutes, douche," she replied. "I'm gonna try to scalp them or get them off Craig's List."

"Do you at least want me to try?" I asked. "I'll bet you that if you'll drive, I can have tickets to the show for you before we find a place to park."

"What's the bet?" she asked.

"Twenty?" I offered.

"No way," she shot back. "Twenty minutes of tickling."

"You'll regret it," I said.

"Only if you pee on me while I'm tickling you," she answered.

"Melissa, I'm almost positive I can get the tickets in just a couple of minutes," I said. "And you hate to be tickled."

"You can really get tickets to a sold-out show?" she asked.

"I can most likely get tickets to this sold-out show," I replied.

She was watching me closely.

"Pull off the next exit," she said. "I'll drive. You can try to make my day."

I pulled my cell phone and called Greg. The only snarl that I could see was that I would have to leave a voice mail. But he picked up on the first ring.

"Hey, man," he said. "I was going to call you tonight."

"Really," I said. "I'm glad I caught you then. I'm on the way to a Red Sox game. They're playing the Tribe tonight."

"Don't I know it," he said wistfully. "Man, I would love to see a game in Fenway. Well, I would love to see a game in Fenway in a normal way. You know what I mean."

"Not really, but I'll take your word for it," I answered with a smile. "Remember, I took the normal life."

"So, how are things in Beantown?" he asked. "You still working at Hoity-Toity Prep?"

"No one calls it Beantown anymore," I answered. "It's passé. And I am still at Lake Howard."

"You gonna show us around next month?"

"Of course," I answered. "I mean if you want me to. That's sort of why I called. Is it too late to get tickets off you? You offered the last time I talked to you."

"I'll leave them at Will Call," he said. "Or if you want to hang out all day, you can just go in with us. But I should warn you, I'm not into the whole groupie thing so don't try any kissy face. How many you want?"

"Well, actually, they're for a friend of mine," I said. "Let me ask." Melissa was staring at me in wonder.

"Uh, two," she said.

I told Greg and he asked if leaving them in my name was OK.

"Uh, better leave them under Melissa Macon," I said. "I'm not sure who she is going to take."

Greg laughed.

"You're coming too, right?" he asked. "Even if your girlfriend goes without you."

I thought for a minute.

"Yeah," I said. "I'd like that. What's your schedule that week?"

"They added a second show on Sunday," he said with resignation. "The first one sold out quickly and Sunday was an open day before a five-day break. It sold out pretty quickly too but I told them no other shows that week. You mind if I hang with you for a day or two afterward?"

"Sounds great," I said. "Listen, we're at the park so I'll call you later. When's good?"

He told me and I promised I'd catch up with him the next afternoon.

"Two tickets will be waiting at Will-Call under your name," I told Melissa.

"You're kidding me, right?" she asked. "I mean, you just picked up the phone and in four minutes had me tickets. Why didn't you put them under your name?"

I started to answer but my phone rang. I saw it was Greg calling back. I hoped he hadn't overreached on the tickets.

"Hey, man," he said. "Kellie and Carrie just chewed my ass — again."

"Oh," I said dejectedly. Melissa was watching carefully.

"No, Tee," he said quickly. "I told them you called and that you're coming. They made me call you back to see if your friend wanted to watch from backstage. I should have thought of that."

"I'll ask," I said.

Melissa's eyes lit up like a candle.

"Holy mother-fucking shit on Easter," she screamed. "I would go down on four security guards to watch from backstage — including females if I had to."

"Uh, is she your girlfriend?" Greg asked in to the phone.

"No," I said. "But I'll take comment to mean that she would truly enjoy watching the show from backstage."

Melissa slapped my arm — hard.

"If you weren't gay, you would be getting so lucky tonight," she said.

I was trying to listen to Greg but he overheard her comment and stopped talking abruptly. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at Melissa.

"Please tell me you're joking," I said.

She laughed.

"About which part?" she said with a giggle.

"About the gay part," I said irritably. "I'm not gay."

Melissa laughed heartily.

"I know you're not," she said loudly. "But you're missing a hell of a chance."

I picked the phone back to my ear in time to hear Carrie say, "I like that girl."

"Well, that makes one of us," I said. I was still a bit miffed but I didn't know why.

"Hey, Tee," Carrie chimed. "We made Greg put you on speaker. You're really coming next month?"

"If I'm not in jail for manslaughter," I replied, casting a harsh look at Melissa who was staring out the window.

"Both shows, right?" Carrie asked.

I told her I wasn't sure if I could make both shows but I would try.

"Can we spend a couple of days with you, too?" she asked. "Greg said he was going to hang out. I think it would be fun."

"If you want to," I answered. "But don't feel obligated. Look, I gotta run."

"Call me tomorrow," Greg said and I turned toward Melissa.

"You look pissed," she said "Are you a homophobe?"

"No," I said. "At least I don't think so. But I didn't find it humorous."

Melissa looked abashed for a moment.

"Well, I did," she said. "I guess 50 percent on a joke isn't bad."

"OK, but don't be surprised if I suddenly find it hilarious to comment about how fat your ass looks in those shorts," I said.

I laughed off Melissa's comment but it bothered me. So it was a relief when I left for a few days to visit Walden Pond and the sanctuary of Henry David Thoreau. Then I spent a week in New York City searching fruitlessly for a literary agent to rep my now-finished novel. And I spent 10 days at my folks' house enjoying solitude.