her.
‘I guess Saint Paddy listened to my prayers,’ said Tully, smiling.
‘Guess so,’ said Jennifer.
‘Thanks for teaching me how to drive, Jen.’
‘You’re welcome, Tully,’ said Jennifer.
Tuesday, March 20, after school, Julie gingerly approached Jennifer. She had wanted to do it earlier, or over the weekend, but there was so much to do. The president of the history club asked her to talk about Indonesia’s involvement in World War II, and she knew nothing about it. Today she had her current events club meeting, but she hadn’t read the paper over the weekend or Time or Newsweek on Monday, so she decided to spend Tuesday afternoon with Jennifer instead.
‘So, Jen, how is everything?’ Julie said as the girls ambled down 10th Street to Wayne.
‘Fine, thanks,’ Jennifer replied, kicking stones out from under her feet.
‘You and Tully excited about Stanford?’
‘Tully’s going to UC in Santa Cruz. She’s pretty excited.’
‘What about you? Are you excited?’
‘For sure,’ said Jennifer.
Julie just did not want to ask Jennifer, just did not. She did not want to bring up a subject Jennifer so obviously had no interest in discussing. How long ago did Tully and Julie stop teasing Jen about her crush on Jack? January? When Julie made some silly remark about how Jennifer could not hide her obsession with Jack’s butt, and Tully glared at her and Jennifer looked away. Julie never brought the subject up again, but now, two months later, she wondered why she never asked Tully about it. Why she never asked Tully if something happened between Jennifer and Jack.
Julie sensed uneasily that something had happened. Something happened to make Jennifer go from a plump, content girl to a darkening shadow. But, truthfully, Julie just did not want to deal with it. Just did not want to, and Julie felt ashamed on this windy, sunny March afternoon as the girls walked to Julie’s house. Ashamed that Jennifer’s heart was too much for Julie to help heal because it would take so much time and so much energy and so much of their day, which, instead of being spent in jokes and TV and their senior year, goddamn it! would be spent in tears.
Julie lowered her head; and when she did, she remembered school days the last few months when she would see Jack stroll by and smile his jock smile and feel Jennifer physically stiffen, remembered her own lowered head at this sight – of smiling Jack and stiff Jennifer – and Julie recognized that then, too, she was lowering her head in shame.
Julie looked at Jennifer’s gaunt, pale face. Her lips used to be so red, but now were bluish pink. All the highlights were out of Jennifer’s hair and it looked a lot like Tully’s hair before she had it bleached and permed for her eighteenth in January. Jennifer’s body was well hidden by a long, loose black skirt (Tully’s?) and a large sweatshirt. That’s all Jennifer wore nowadays. Loose skirts and large shirts. Ninety-six? Was it possible? And what to do about it? Julie cleared her throat.
‘Jen, have you lost weight?’
‘God!’ Jennifer said in a raised, exasperated voice. ‘What is it with you people? Everybody keeps asking me the same question! Can’t you be original and ask me something else? What about how I’m doing in school –’
‘Jennifer, how are you doing in school?’ said Julie quietly.
‘Great! I actually got a sixty-two on my English lit exam. Mr Lederer said I was improving. Anything else?’
‘Yes,’ said Julie. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’
Jennifer did not reply.
At Julie’s house, they played with Julie’s two youngest brothers, Vinnie and Angelo. Jennifer seemed to cheer up a little playing with Vinnie, who was her particular favorite because he would latch on to her and not let go until she left.
She did leave, though, before dinner, saying she wanted to eat at home. Julie walked her to Wayne and 10th, and they stopped at the corner.
Julie skipped a beat and said, ‘Jennifer, tell me what’s bothering you.’
‘Nothing, Julie,’ said Jennifer. ‘I forgot when to stop dieting. I’m a little low on energy. I’m going to have to start eating more.’
Julie was unconvinced.
‘I’ve been going through a little period of self-doubt,’ admitted Jennifer.
‘How long a little period?’ asked Julie.
‘Oh, about seventeen years,’ replied Jennifer, and they both laughed.
‘You? Self-doubt?’ said Julie. ‘Jen, what do you have self-doubt about? You’re brilliant, beautiful, strong…what self-doubt?’
Jennifer paused, then said, ‘Yes, well, it’s hard to argue with all that,’ not answering Julie’s question.
They hugged each other good-bye and as Julie watched her, a pit developed in her stomach. She loves that asshole, thought Julie, and was nearly knocked out by sympathy and pity and envy, yes, envy, goddamn it. Loves him! But then pity swam back into Julie. Loves him with all the bittersweetness of first love and now she’s trying to find a way to cope. Jennifer should talk to Tully more, thought Julie, heading back to her house. Tully would teach Jennifer how to cope.
Bright, beautiful, brilliant, billowy, blighted, blind, thought Jennifer as she meandered home, looking straight ahead with unseeing eyes. Yes, I’m all these things, I am so many things, so many of them good, some of them wonderful. I should know: I’ve been told nothing else my entire life, so how can it not be true? Yet it is as I have always suspected. All those things mean shit, for the world is full of beautiful people, full of beautiful, brilliant, billowy people. And so what? Ugliness is now inside me. Beautiful! What does beautiful have to do with anything? He does not want me. Everyone told me he was worthless and I was precious, but this worthless guy did not want precious me.
So if he was so worthless and still did not want me, how in this world could anyone worthwhile want me?
And he is not worthless. He is serious and strong. He is a lot like Tully. Maybe that’s why I just can’t stop. I’ve tried to do what Tully tells me to do. I’ve tried to study and drown myself in Tully’s heart because I know she cares so much. I’ve tried to eat, to sleep, and to listen to music. I’ve tried to look at other guys and think of Stanford. But what’s California to me without him?
I’ve tried to forget him. But every day I see his face above my face. Above me. I see his smiling face when I was a cheerleader and he was a football captain. When we played softball together. When he danced with me to ‘Wild Horses.’ When he was my friend. I have but a few memories, but the ones I have are all in my throat, the ones I have are all in my face when he walks by and smiles his ‘Hey, Jen, what’s happening?’ smile at me. I cannot even hate him. He has done nothing, this is not his fault. This is no one’s fault. Not even mine. Tully taught me how to fight, but even she cannot help me heal this sick, tired feeling inside me. And that’s how I feel. Sick. And tired.
Wednesday, March
