The Fleeting Happy

Ten

"He took you to Chuck E. Cheese's? With his little brother?"

"It wasn't that bad," I said, in Greene's defense.

It was Sunday morning and I was on the phone in a three-way call with Stef and Montana. They'd rudely awoken me at the crack of dawn, shrieking and pestering me about how the date went. Still exhausted, I'd promised to call them back in three more hours, hung up and promptly fell asleep again.

Three hours later, here I was, stirring creamer into a freshly-brewed mug of coffee with my cellphone on speaker, sitting atop the kitchen counter.

"Wait, which brother?" Montana asked.

"Andy."

Stef and Montana both cringed audibly. I guess it was safe to say that they'd met Andy Greene before.

"That kid is a nightmare!" Stef cried. "How are you still alive?"

I snorted. "To be honest, I don't know."

"Andy is everyone's least favorite Greene Brother," Montana explained. "I think you already know why."

"That date sounds like something Greene would do," mused Stef. "Arcade games. Cheap food. Screaming kids. The only thing that's missing is a rock band and two grams of kush. That's all that goes through Greene's head."

Both Montana and Stef giggled, but I wasn't laughing. I remembered what Greene told me last night, about how he wanted me to take him seriously. He'd assumed right off the bat that I thought of him as a joke. Perhaps he wasn't as mellow as he seemed. Perhaps he knew what people said about him behind his back.

"That's not funny," I said softly. "I mean, sure, it wasn't Red Lobster or anything, but I still had a good time."

"We believe you," Montana answered. "I'm sorry--"

"Forget it, I shouldn't have told you guys," I snapped. "You know, Greene's actually pretty insecure about what people think of him. You guys are supposed to be his friends."

Feeling my heart starting to race and my palms beginning to clam up, I hung up the call and pushed my phone away, watching it skitter across the counter.

Maybe I overreacted.

I wasn't sure.

The first thing I did after draining my cup of coffee was go into my room to stare at the Poetic Songs to Make Montana Smile CD, which I still hadn't mustered up the courage to give to her. Looking at the CD only made me even more confused.

For a moment, I considered destroying it. Burning it. Smashing it with a hammer.

But then I decided against it.

Instead, I threw on an outfit, texted Greene and took the first bus headed for southern Severn Valley.

Instead of texting me a reply, he called.

"Rory? What's up?"

"I need your address," I said. "I'm coming to your house, if that's okay. Just for a little while."

"Why?" Greene asked.

I thought about my answer. It wasn't like I really wanted to see Greene again or anything. Rather, I wanted him to be convinced that he wasn't a joke in my eyes. I wanted him to believe that I respected him like anybody else. I wanted him to know that I was on his side and that I wasn't humoring him behind his back.

I felt bad for what happened earlier, with Stef and Montana. It reminded me of how I used to feel at my old school: laughed at. It was one of the worst feelings in the world.