The Hotel Eden(12)

BUT HE WASN’T there. He wasn’t there all week. The class did experiments with oxidation and Mr. Miles spent two days explaining and diagramming rust. On Friday, Mr. Miles worked with Barbara on the experiments and she asked him what was wrong with Keith. “I’m not sure,” her teacher told her. “But I think he’s on medication.”

Barbara had a tennis match on Tuesday afternoon at school, and Brian picked her up and drove her home. Usually he came in for an hour or so on these school days and they made out a little and raided the fridge, but for the first time she begged off, claiming homework, kissing him on the cheek and running into her house. But on Friday, during her away match at Viewmont, she felt odd again. She knew Brian was in the stands. When she walked off the court after the match it was nearly dark and Brian was waiting. She gave Trish her rackets and Barbara climbed on Brian’s scooter without a word. “You weren’t that bad,” he said. “Viewmont always has a good team.”

“Brian, let’s just go home.”

“You want to stop at Swenson’s, get something to eat?”

“No.”

So Brian started his scooter and drove them home. Barbara could tell by the way he was driving that he was mad, and it confused her: she felt strangely glad about it. She didn’t want to invite him in, let him grope her on the couch. She held on as he took the corners too fast and slipped through the stop signs, but all the way home she didn’t put her chin on his shoulder.

At her house, she got the scene she’d been expecting. “Just what is the matter with you?” Brian said. For some reason when he’d gone to kiss her, she’d averted her face. Her heart burned with pleasure and shame. She was going to make up a lie about tennis, but then just said, “Oh Brian. Just leave me alone for a while, will you? Just go home.”

Inside, she couldn’t settle down. She didn’t shower or change clothes. She sat in the dark of her room for a while and then, using only the tiny spot of her desk lamp, she copied her chemistry notes for the week and called Trish.

It was midnight when Trish picked her up quietly by the mailbox on the corner. Trish was smoking one of her Marlboros and blowing smoke into the windshield. She said, “High School Confidential, Part Five: Young Barbara Anderson, still in her foxy tennis clothes, and her old friend Trish meet again at midnight, cruise the Strip, pick up two young men with tattoos, and are never seen alive again. Is that it? Count me in.”

“Not quite. It goes like this: two sultry babes, one of whom has just been a royal bitch to her boyfriend for no reason, drive to 1147 Fairmont to drop off the week’s chemistry notes.”

“That would be Keith Zetterstrom’s address, I’d guess.” Trish said.

“He’s my lab partner.”

“Of course he is,” Trish said.

“He missed all last week. Mr. Miles told me that Keith’s on medication.”

“Oh my god!” Trish clamped the steering wheel. “He’s got cancer. That’s that scary hairdo. He’s sick.”

“No he doesn’t. I checked the college lists. He’s going to Dickinson.”

“Not for long, honey. I should have known this.” Trish inhaled and blew smoke thoughtfully out of the side of her mouth. “Bald kids in high school without earrings have got cancer.”

KEITH WAS IN class the following Monday for the chemistry exam: sulfur and rust. After class, Barbara Anderson took him by the arm and led him to her locker. “Thanks for the notes, partner,” he said. “They were absolutely chemical. I aced the quiz.”

“You were sick last week.”

“Last week.” He pondered. “Oh, you mean because I wasn’t here. What do you do, come every day? I just couldn’t; it would take away the something special I feel for this place. I like to come from time to time and keep the dew on the rose, so to speak.”

“I know what’s the matter with you.”

“Good for you, Barbara Anderson. And I know what’s the matter with you too; sounds like a promising relationship.”

Barbara pulled his folded sweater from the locker and handed it to him. As she did, Brian came up and said to them both: “Oh, I see.” He started to walk away.

“Brian,” Keith said. “Listen. You don’t see. I’m not a threat to you. How could I be a threat to you? Think about it.” Brian stood, his eyes narrowed. Keith went on: “Barbara’s not stupid. What am I going to do, trick her? I’m her lab partner in chemistry. Relax.” Keith went to Brian and took his hand, shook it. “I’m serious, Woodworth.”