Only the Moon Watching

Chapter 31: Chemistry

Even though I might be seeing Steak again in just a few hours, I do write to him:

Have you ever thought about how people'll reveal their ages when medicine is so advanced that we can all look twenty-five forever? I think smell'll be a dead giveaway. You and I will recognize plastic and new car smell and Twinkies (if we survive that Apocalypse you're always talking about) but people younger than us might not. I have a vivid olfactory memory of Blockbuster, specifically of Baby Bottle Pops advertised by cardboard cutouts of the Jonas Brothers, but even people who are just five years younger than me probably wouldn't remember any of that.

I hope, like Blockbuster, prison is also obsolete in a couple decades or centuries. One day when my grandkids ask what life was like for me, I hope they can't even fathom the embarrassment of throwing up jail-slop in front of a handsome trustee.

I scribble out the word handsome, then scrap the whole letter, and rewrite it, taking out the word entirely–

In front of a trustee...

(Should I even be talking about my grandkids? Is the implication: our grandkids? Will he think I'm imagining telling them the story of how we met, because it'll have historic importance to our family? Shit...)

Anyway, I had fun today.

(Lame!?)

We might meet tonight, but if we don't I wanted to pick your brain before I forgot: what memories do you think would give you away? It's the most relatable question I could think of today. And it feels really nice to be able to relate to you.

You're exactly like your letters and I wanted you to know that – I could pick your jokes out of a line up, I think. (I would definitely recognize your handwriting!) I wasn't sure we would click in person but I felt like I've already known you for a while and that's a huge relief. I hope I'll see you later, but if not, I'm really happy just to be writing to you. I hope we actually do become friends.

I think of saying something like, "and we get to know each other inside and out," but it sounds too sexual – I read it in one of Shiv's voices – and besides, I don't want to remind him he's already seen my insides. I mean, the contents of my stomach...

I seal my letter in a plastic bag, thread my spoons onto the line, and flush it up into the pipes.

I put an extra plastic bag into my pocket before dinner. It's empty but I have a plan.

Shiv gave it to me, when she suggested I fake-puke to get close to Steak. I'll shovel some extra carrot-peach-whatever off my plate and start squirreling it away in our room. If I ever need to make fake puke, I can use it.

That way, if Steak isn't able to get down to the library I can have an excuse to bring the trustees to me.

I take longer than normal picking up my food, eyeballing all the trays and trying to choose the one with an extra ounce of mush. When I finally make it to our table, Needler, Vapor, and Tangler are in a heated discussion:

"No, the best place is the laundry room," says Needles. "Hides the smell!"
"It's library," Tangler insists. "For sure. Sure, you've got to be quieter but that adds to the excitement–"

I almost ignore them, afraid they're debating the best place to stab someone or hide a body when Vapor says, "Just ask her – they're her plans, anyway!"

Tangler stabs at her mystery meat and says, "So where are you going to fuck Steak?"
"Excuse me?" Shiv sneaks up behind me, setting her tray at my side. "This is being decided without me?"

"No," I glare at Tangler. "It wasn't. We're just meeting up. Even if I do like him, I'd rather wait six months 'til I'm a free woman. I don't want my memory of our first kiss to be: in the laundry room! Wearing orange scrubs! With a mop!"

Shiv says: "Sounds like a game of CLUE."

Tangler takes a huge biteful of food and asks, "Where was your first time, anyway?"

"Mine actually was in the laundry room!" Shiv says. "Oh god, but not here! Before basketball practice in high school. That sweaty boy's locker room smell? Yum."

"Ew!" I say.

"Yum. All the pheromones, but?"

"Are you saying 'but' or 'butt?'" asks Needler.

"Yes," says Shiv.

"Mine was in a car," says Vapor.

"Was it stolen?" teases Shiv.

"It was a '65 Malibu, red. Same thing my parents brought me home from the hospital in. I want one at my wedding, too."

"And when you die you should have your ashes blown out the exhaust." Shiv rolls her eyes. "What about yours, Jos? Anything significant?"

I eat everything but the mush, waiting for everyone's attention to be pulled away from me so I can scoop it into the bag I have hidden in my pocket.

"Um, it was senior skip day, I guess, but I was a Junior. There was always a big bonfire, kids from other schools would show up, too. I hadn't planned on it, but then there was a guy on our rival football team that I just really hit it off with. We could talk about anything, really seemed to get along. I thought that meant we'd have good chemistry, but we didn't. The actual acts–"

"Multiple?" confirms Shiv.

"Yeah, tried it a few times that night to make sure it wasn't just nerves – the actual thing wasn't great. It wasn't anything like I was expecting anyway."

"Weird how it can be like that," agrees Shiv. "Chemistry's such a strange beast. Sometimes you only have it in the bedroom, sometimes you have it everywhere but."