“Lila,” he said, nodding at her sitting across from us. She looked as if she had just been caught cheating on a final.
“Lila is my personal public relations officer,” I said, looking at her pointedly.
Aaron laughed, and Lila relaxed. “I could pick you up,” he offered.
“I think Lila’s mother’s taking us,” I said.
“Oh, I might go with Gerry Okun,” she said quickly. “I forgot to tell you. Actually, he just mentioned it this morning.” She nodded at Gerry, who was making his way to our table. Gerry was Aaron’s Tonto, as we liked to call him. Like the Lone Ranger, Aaron had him at his side constantly. Tall and lanky, with a crooked mouth and small, lazy, dark brown eyes, Gerry was nowhere near as good-looking as Aaron. I think having him as a sidekick helped boost Aaron’s ego. He was a nice enough boy, far more timid and insecure. I was sure he wouldn’t be doing half the things he was doing if it wasn’t for Aaron having him tag along. Of course, I was suspicious of his offer to Lila. As Grandpa Arnold was apt to say, I smelled a rat. Aaron had put him up to it for sure.
“Well, I guess it’s all right, then,” Aaron said, as Gerry sat beside Lila. “Besides, you’ll be the first to ride in my new car. It’s my graduation present.”
“You have a while to go before graduating.”
“Oh, my father got a good deal, and he wanted me to get used to driving it before I’m off to college,” he offered as a rationalization. One thing I noticed about my friends here was that they were rarely embarrassed by how much they had.
“How thoughtful,” I said.
Aaron laughed. “It’s a Plymouth Fury. Ever see one?”
“I don’t pay much attention to cars except when I’m crossing the street.”
“You will to this one,” he said, with that smile of his that was a cross between a smirk and a playful grin. He aimed those stunning eyes at me like a pair of pistols.
I shrugged and bit into my toasted cheese sandwich. Willie would have been just like him when it came to cars, I thought, and my grandfather would have spoiled him as quickly as Aaron’s father spoiled Aaron. Men couldn’t help but spoil their sons and grandsons. They saw themselves in them, or maybe they wished they could relive their youth through them. My father would have been the same for sure. It suddenly occurred to me how sad it must be for my grandfather not to feel the same way toward my uncle Bobby. Surely that was why he had put so much of his attention on Willie, and maybe that was why he was now putting it on the boy in Willie’s room wearing Willie’s clothes.
I shook the idea out of my head almost as quickly as I had thought it. I didn’t want to find excuses and explanations like everyone else in my house and in my life was finding for the things Grandpa Arnold did. I didn’t want to understand it, and I certainly didn’t want to condone it. I didn’t want to forgive him for it.
“I might disappoint you,” I told Aaron.
He shrugged that Aaron Podwell shrug that made it seem as if he could ignore or disregard an atomic bomb. “We’ll see,” he said. “It’s worth the gamble.”
I looked at Lila. She seemed more excited about Aaron and me than I could ever be. “Okay,” I said. “If you’re willing to take that chance.”
“What chance?” Gerry asked. H
e looked at Lila. She shook her head but kept her smile.
“She might not be as excited as we are about my new car,” Aaron told him. Gerry pulled his chin down and in so hard that I thought he would crush his Adam’s apple.
I couldn’t help smiling, and that felt good, very good.
On the way out to our afternoon classes, Aaron proposed another idea.
“Why don’t you call home and tell whoever that you have a ride today and don’t need to be picked up. That way, you can experience the car sooner.”
I thought about it. My grandfather always wanted to know who was driving me where. He did it more often than not. I rarely had done anything without first getting his approval. Suddenly, this seemed a good way to assert myself, even though it was a small transgression.
“Okay,” I said, and stopped at the principal’s office. We could ask to use the phone if it involved getting in touch with our parents or, in my case, grandparent. I intended simply to call the house and leave the message with Myra, declaring it a fait accompli.
Mrs. Heinz, the principal’s secretary, nodded when I asked her permission to use the phone to call home. “You’re not feeling unwell?” she followed quickly.
“Why? Do I look like it?” I snapped back. It wasn’t something I would ordinarily do.
I could see the surprise widen her eyes. I was sure she was wondering if I was still too deeply in mourning to participate in my schoolwork. “No, no, of course not,” she said quickly, and looked back at her paperwork.
Myra answered the phone as I expected.
“Please cancel my pickup today, Myra,” I said. “I have a ride home with a friend.”