at my sincere, theatrical portrayals, occasionally interrupting to tell me I was funny or cute, and pretty soon being with her began to feel warm and homey, to such a degree that my heart quailed whenever I wasn’t talking.
The one personal question October did ask me before we left the restaurant was if I had any siblings. My simple, though not altogether accurate, answer was “No.”
When we pulled up in front of October’s house that night, I shut off the truck’s engine but left the radio on low.
We sat in the dark for a while, listening to the quiet music. I didn’t recognize the song that was on, but I imagined the guitarist was playing an old Taylor Milagro. The tone scraped at my insides and reminded me once again that despite the feelings of familiarity I was experiencing, the woman sitting beside me still had no idea who I really was.
Eventually October sighed and said, “I guess I should go.” She paused, then turned toward me. “I had a really nice time tonight, Joe.”
I nodded. “Me too.”
She waited another long moment, the air in the truck suddenly becoming warm and stuffy. I got the sense she was waiting for me to make a move, but I didn’t. Finally she wished me a good night and hopped out.
I watched her walk into her house and shut the door behind her. I watched Diego get up and spin in a circle around her. I watched October scratch the dog’s neck and kiss the top of his head.
I sat there until the lights in the kitchen went off and the ones in the rear of the house went on. Then I went back to my apartment and, without turning on any of my own lights, lay on the bed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep wondering why I was already having the urge to bolt.
NINE.
Cal gave me some sage advice once that I often call to mind whenever I’m attempting to step outside my comfort zone. During our junior year, a girl named Melissa asked him to ask me to ask her to Game Night at our school. Game Night was an event Tam High had once a year in the spring. They would set up tables in the gym and designate each one for a specific game: Monopoly, Trivial Pursuit, Scrabble, Boggle, stuff like that. They served pizza, there were prizes for winners, and kids took turns making out in the locker rooms.
“Melissa thinks you’re cute,” Cal said. “She wants to be your date. I promised her you’d call.”
I told Cal there was no way I could call Melissa.
“Why not?”
“She’s too pretty. I won’t know what to say.”
“But she’s a sure thing,” Cal argued, aghast at my insecurity. “She asked me to tell you this. She’s not going to say no.”
I told Cal I’d call Melissa if he smoked some pot with me first, and he said, “Fine, fine.” He shook his head. “The things I do for you, Harp.”
He put on a Tool album, which did not help my anxiety, and I lit the joint I’d found in Chuck’s coat pocket. This was one of the few times Cal had agreed to get high with me, and despite all of his antidrug protests, he seemed to get a kick out of it. On the other hand, I felt more on edge with each inhale. Cal had to dial Melissa’s number for me and then ask Melissa’s mom if Melissa could come to the phone.
“I’m calling on behalf of Joseph Harper,” he said formally.
I thought maybe Cal was going to do all the talking, but once Melissa got on the line, he tossed the phone at my chest. I don’t know what the expression on my face was like, but he took one look at it and fell on the floor, pointing at me and laughing.
I put my hand over the receiver and asked Cal to turn the music down, but he was still on the ground, now playing air drums, and didn’t hear me. I cupped my hand over my ear to block out the noise as best I could and managed to ask Melissa to go to Game Night with me, but after I hung up I knew it was going to be impossible for me to think about anything else until the date was over.
“See? That wasn’t so hard.” Instead of it mellowing him out, the pot made Cal extra verbose and too easily amused. “You know