Tilt - Alan Cumyn [5]
Then later at lunchtime in the cafeteria lineup he pretended to be extremely interested in the new student mural of various androgynous figures playing sports such as hockey, soccer, volleyball and even basketball, although the basketball player had one arm longer than the other and his or her elbow was definitely out of alignment given the shoulder angle of the jump shot if in fact it was a jump shot that the artist was trying to depict, and what did it matter anyway now that JV was canceled?
Then there she was again at the end of second period in the afternoon, tying her shoe right in front of him as he was trying to make it to English and nearly tripped over her but fortunately his reactions were swift and he managed to miss her completely although she did look up at the last moment to see who was bearing down on her with such speed.
“Hey,” he said as he flashed by.
It occurred to him that if he stopped he might say even more than that, but what?
In the hallway Coach Lapman didn’t meet Stan’s eye, probably didn’t even remember who he was.
At home after dinner he was reading the same assigned passage of The Catcher in the Rye over and over when his mother approached. She sat quite close to him on the sofa so that he had to pull out his earbuds and turn off his music.
“Aren’t you training tonight?” she asked.
“They canceled JV basketball,” he said. Under questioning he explained the hopelessness of the situation.
“Well, you could try out for the varsity team anyway, couldn’t you?” she said.
Stan knew that if he just stayed quiet she would eventually drift away and he could get back to not reading his novel. Anyway, Gary would be calling soon.
She squeezed his knee in a motherly way.
“How are things on the other side?” she asked.
“What other side?”
“The social side of things. Any . . .” His mother hesitated so he knew she had probably been planning this segment of the conversation all along. “. . . cute girls, you know, you’re interested in?”
“Cute girls?”
“You know what I’m saying, Stanley.” She stretched flat her brow furrows with her fingertips.
“I guess,” Stan said.
“What do you guess?”
She was almost finished her wine. Gary was going to call any minute. Or Lily was going to need help with her homework. If he could just stall a bit longer . . .
“We haven’t had any good conversations about all this,” his mother said. She waved her hand vaguely. “I’d like to think that you feel free enough to ask me anything. You’re entering such a rich and . . . confusing time of life. And your father isn’t here to help. It’s just me. You know I grew up with sisters, so I really don’t know the male perspective . . . I know men, of course . . . I know I’m terrible with them. I’m really not much of a role model for you. But if there is anything you want to talk about . . . you know, the mechanics of . . . how it all works.” The words were sputtering now. Not even the wine was helping. “You do know the mechanics?”
He couldn’t avoid the direct question.
“We had a . . . mechanics section as part of health,” he said.
“But you haven’t . . .” She squeezed his knee again. Her hair was falling all in front of her face.
Where was Gary when you needed the guy?
“Haven’t what?” Stan said finally.
“You know . . . you haven’t actually . . . I mean, you do go out at night sometimes. And I know I’m away more than I should be. I mean —”
She was asking if he’d —!
“No!” he blurted.
She looked startled. Surprised and relieved and perhaps disbelieving.
“It’s all right if you do. I mean, eventually, when you love someone. I mean, not now, but in the next few years you’re going to be entering an age when the feelings are overpowering and . . . there’s the whole thing about the adolescent brain.”
“What?”
“I was reading