Chapter 5 Dinner at the Chens
Dinner at the Chens
Driving home from the library, I reflect on everything that transpired in the last few hours.
I dodged a bullet today, no doubt about it.
Carole covered for me with the school and told them I wasn’t feeling well with a promise I’ll be there tomorrow.
I am so grateful she didn’t make me go to the school and apologize to the teachers and principal.
I would have died! Mostly, I’m relieved she agreed not to tell Mom so long as I do what she asks.
So that’s what I’m doing. I’m going straight home after I stop at Target to buy a new alarm clock.
I told Carole the whole story, or most of it anyway, leaving out the part about Hector.
I told her about freaking out when I missed the opening bell and running away to Starbucks.
She was compassionate despite not fully understanding why I panicked so severely.
I’m not sure I understand it myself. She chalked it up to the recent changes in my life and last night’s scare.
I push the worry from my mind and head to Target.
Istrategically place the new alarm clock across the room from my bed per Carole’s instructions.
Her rationale was twofold. First, a new clock with a different alarm sound may help wake me up.
Second, placing it far enough away forces me to get out of bed to turn off the alarm.
I keep my original clock on my bedside table; two alarms are better than one.
Belt and suspenders, she called it. What a Carole thing to say.
I’ve grown to love Carole as a third parent. In recent days, she has been more of a parent to me than Mom. I certainly see her more than Mom who is either at work or resting from being at work. But Mom is still more of a parent than Dad is. That’s for sure.
My stomach growls, reminding me that lunchtime has arrived. I make myself a sandwich and a mug of soup, take it into the living room, and turn on the TV. There’s nothing like daytime talk shows to make you feel better about your own life.
George, you are not the father! Your half-brother Frank is…
I’m normal compared to these insane people.
Although I’m the one who thinks he’s going to die at 11:22.
I’m the one who feels like something is aggressively trying to scratch its way out of my stomach.
I turn off the TV and push the uncomfortable thought out of my mind.
I read a little bit, play with Sammy, and before I know it, the end of the school day rolls around.
I leave a note on the counter for Mom and Carole reminding them that I’m going to the Chens for our first-day-of-school tradition.
I promise to be home before nine. I give Sammy a few scratches and head out to Mags’ house.
She, as if on cue, calls on the drive over.
“Are you on your way? Don’t forget to pick up Neel. Are you sure Tom is okay?”
“Yes, Mags, I’m on my way. Yes, I’ll pick up Neel. And yes, Tom is fine. I am too. Not that you seem to care. We’ll be there soon.”
I end the call and resume my playlist from this morning. It occurs to me that Mags and Neel will want to know about my new school, my teachers, my new friends… I guess I’ll have to tell them the truth. Mags will smell any bullshit from a mile away.
I pull up to Neel’s house and wait for him to come outside.
After a few minutes, he emerges from the front door holding a casserole dish.
His head is freshly shaven on the left with the right perfectly styled and gelled to cover his right eye.
He gets in the car and waves goodbye to his mom.
With a smile as bright as her sari, she waves back.
“So embarrassing. I’m almost an adult,” Neel says. “She acts like I’m still a child.”
“I know this pain. What’s in the casserole?”
“I don’t know; something my mom made. She insisted I bring it along and give it to Mags’ mom. See, embarrassing! Anyway, what are we listening to today, Heartbreaker?”
“Come on, Neel, quit calling me that. It’s so ninth grade and, by the way, this is Tom Petty.”
“Old school again? You can’t dance to this, Heartbreaker! You’re growing old before your time. You need to add in some current music. Let’s listen to Lizzo. Everyone likes Lizzo, right?”
“Neel, we’re driving, not dancing. This is about one thing and one thing only, your libido. We all know you have a thing for Lizzo. You want to bump uglies with her.”
“Bump uglies? See what I mean. No one talks like that except for you, Simon Bugg. But, yes, you’re right. I do want to bump uglies with her. She is hot! You don’t think so?”
“Here, knock yourself out. You can play music from your own phone.” I yank the cord from my phone and hand it to Neel. “Free Fallin’” is replaced by a pulsating beat. I have no idea if it’s Lizzo, but it makes him happy.
On the drive to Mags’ house, Neel doesn’t ask about my day.
I don’t even get a chance to tell him about running off the road last night.
He just goes on about different girls, how pretty they are, and how Shonda’s boobs have gotten so huge over the summer.
I laugh a little. Neel is quite the exaggerator, but I like this about him.
He doesn’t always have a lot to say, but if you get him talking about something he is passionate about, you can’t shut him up.
It used to be video games, but now he mostly talks about girls.
I don’t mind listening to him ramble on, but I cringe when he asks my opinions about girls or why I can’t seem to keep a girlfriend for more than two weeks.
We arrive to find Mags sitting on her front stoop waiting for us. She leaps up and rushes the car. She circles Tom twice, rubbing her chin.
“Hmm, I don’t see any damage. Perhaps you should take him to a garage. There could be internal bleeding.”
I toss my head against the headrest with a thud. “Mags, for the last time, Tom is fine. Nothing to worry about.”
“What is she talking about?” Neel asks.
“Oh, crap. I was going to tell you this morning, but Simon distracted me. Bug Boy here tried to murder our Tom last night.”
“What? Simon, why didn’t you say anything?” Neel says, as he jumps out of the car and does the same slow walk around the car Mags just did.
“Nothing to see, nothing to worry about, everything is fine. I just ran off the road into a ditch to avoid a deer.” I get out of the car and join my friends in the driveway. Finally seeming satisfied, Mags pulls us both into a bear hug.
“It’s about time you got here. What took you so long?
I hope you haven’t made any new friends to replace us with.
If you did, don’t tell me. I can’t handle it.
I don’t like my teachers, and I don’t think this is going to be the senior year I was hoping for.
Simon, I’m dying without you. Isn’t there any way you can come back for senior year?
“Mags, you already know I can’t. We’d have to start paying tuition since we moved out of the district, and Mom says we can’t afford it. Besides, she’s already freaking out about the wear and tear on my old car every time I come to visit you guys. There’s no way she’d let me do it daily.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m just a bit neurotic today so please excuse me.”
“Just today?” Neel snarks.
Mags punches him on the shoulder and Neel yelps.
She barely touches him, but he mocks a wounded shoulder while balancing the casserole dish.
I am so happy to be back with my friends who I love so much.
We are a strange little trio. At barely five feet tall, Mags is stocky and wears oversized clothing she gets entirely from thrift stores.
If it costs more than $25, she will not buy it.
She has the personality of a firecracker, matching her brightly dyed, crimson hair.
Her loyalty and love are limitless, though she can be a bit selfish at times.
Neel, on the other hand, is the exact opposite at almost six feet tall.
He personifies the role of the gentle giant.
Quiet and brooding, but genuinely sweet.
Always in jeans with holes in the knees, and always in a Simpsons T-shirt from his vast collection.
Then there is me. The skinny, nervous nerd with glasses atop a freckled nose and an out-of-control Jewfro. And lots of secrets.
“So, Simon, tell me about your new school. Neel and I want to hear all about it. Right, Neel?”
“Uh, yeah.” I can tell that Neel is embarrassed he didn’t ask me about it on the drive over.
“Well, it’s a bit complicated. Why don’t you take the casserole to your mom, Mags, and maybe we can take a walk around the neighborhood before dinner. I can tell you what went down.”
Looking surprised, as if she only now notices the casserole Neel is holding, Mags takes the dish and disappears inside.
Neel and I stare at our feet while we wait for her to come back.
After a few moments, she is back outside with Coco, her white Bichon Frisé.
There is nothing in the world Mags loves more.
Coco’s tongue hangs out in anticipation of her walk.
“Dad says we have about thirty minutes until dinner is ready. So we can go for a walk as long as we’re back before he puts the food on the table. You know how seriously he takes all this. If the food gets cold, and we’re not there to eat it, the world will come to an end. I’m not kidding.”
The tree-lined sidewalks of Mags’ suburban neighborhood stretch ahead of us. It’s pretty here. I grew up in Columbia, too, but the apartment buildings Mom and I lived in weren’t in neighborhoods as nice as this one. We make small talk until Mags stops walking and stands stock-still on the sidewalk.
“Okay, cut the crap, Simon. Something weird is going on. Why are you stalling? Spill the tea, please.”
We resume walking, and I tell them the story of what transpired earlier today.
Carefully, step by step, I start from the moment the school bell rang, and I got off the phone with Mags.
It’s the version I told Carole, meaning everything except the part about Hector.
Mags laughs uncontrollably, and Neel is stupefied.
He keeps mumbling under his breath, “I can’t believe you skipped school and didn’t get in trouble. ”
Through her laughter Mags says, “You just kept driving up and down Rockville Pike?” She gasps for breath between peals of laughter, and Coco joins in with a bark.
“I don’t know why I freaked out so bad. I’ve always been a rule follower, you know?”
Neel puts his hand on my shoulder to stop me from walking.
“So, you didn’t get in any trouble? No trouble at all?
You just got to go home and watch TV? That’s crazy!
And I can’t believe Carole didn’t tell your mom.
My mom would be on the phone to my dad in an instant.
No hesitation. I would be so grounded. Like for a month.
Maybe longer. Do you think she will tell her eventually? ”
“No, Neel,” Mags chimes in. “Carole is way too cool for that. I’m sure she will keep this secret between her and Simon. Right, Simon?”
“I hope so. Carole is chill. She also wants to shelter my mom. She’s overworked, exhausted, and stressed out all the time these days. She’s been getting migraines constantly since she started her new job.”
“See, Neel, lesbians are super cool. I’ve been telling you this for a while now. Aren’t you glad you’re friends with one? And you know I mean me, right?”
Mags elbows Neel in the stomach as we turn around to walk back for dinner. “Stop hitting me, Mags,” pleads Neel. “Simon, tell her to stop hitting me.”
I don’t respond. My thoughts are already elsewhere.
I’m dreading going to the new school tomorrow—a day late.
I should be finishing out my senior year with my friends.
A fresh hive appears on the back of my right hand.
I scratch it gingerly just as we arrive back at the Chens’ where a spectacular feast is laid out on the dining room table for us to devour.