my sister says "i'm going to
bed early. my head hurts."
then she cradles the phone
carefully in her hands and
locks herself in the bathroom
to call her boyfriend and tell
him her guinea pig is dead.
the guinea pig was a birthday
present the year she turned
nine and she started junior
high soon after. she is going
to graduate junior high on
friday and the guinea pig
must have figured its time
was up. she was growing
out of the junior high phase.

the biggest irony is that she
has to grow up quicker than
ever before now because
she has lost her best friend.

my mother passes my best
friend's mother on the street
and asks me how my friend
is doing. i tell her i don't know
because we haven't spoken
since the middle of spring
semester. i get home and
there is a message waiting
for me, blinking pink on
my screen. the message
is from my best friend. she
wants to know if i'm okay.
"of course." i type it out.
then i try to change the
subject because that was
a lie. "how've you been?"
but she knows me too well.
"i don't believe you," she says,
stubbornly refusing to change.
i sigh and explain to her that
i've been thinking about how
we can't be romantic all the
time but it still sucks that we
have to be so damn pragmatic.
she agrees. then silence falls
again, like it has for the past
three months. nothing changes.

i think that maybe something
has changed after all, and i
failed to see it. she is supposed
to be my best friend but we
sure as hell aren't acting like it.

i go to visit my new best friend
at her trailer where she has a
thousand cats because she is
keeping her pet with her four
new kittens in a linen cupboard
by the bathroom sink. she says
she wants me to see them while
they are still babies because
she already knows she is not
keeping any of them. "i have
too many already," she laughs.
then we notice that one of the
kittens isn't moving and another
one feels too cold. the one that
isn't moving is already gone and
the other has gone too by the
same time the following night.

i can't help but think my new
best friend shouldn't have said
she wasn't going to keep them
because i think god heard her
and granted a wish she would
never have intended to make.

the boy who isn't supposed to
be talking to me sends me a
message to tell me he is sorry
about the guinea pig. i thank
him blandly on my sister's
behalf. what else can i do?
he says something offhand
about knowing how i feel, and
from my repeated dealings with
him i have learned his verbal
cues. he is done pretending
to care about me for today.
"have you seen the new fight
club video yet?" he asks me.
not five minutes and already
it is all about him, him, him.
i tell him i haven't been looking
for it. instead of taking the hint
because he is simultaneously
too presumptuous and too eager,
he sends me a youtube link.
i thank him blandly again and i
do not click on the link. i let
the budding conversation die.

sometimes i think his girlfriend
was right to tell him she doesn't
trust him talking to me anymore.

the boy who has lied to me
and kept secrets from me is
sending me emails with videos
of himself playing cello and
creating masterpieces that i
could never hope to weave.
he has now uncovered the
secrets and retracted the lies,
somehow trusting me to take
the truth in stride. and so,
instead of yelling at him and
being angry for the lies and
the secrets, i swallow my pride
and my tongue and admit that
i have kept secrets from and
told lies to everyone i ever
loved. if my record is anything
to judge him by, his past secrets
and lies are a confession of
how deeply he loves me. it is
dawning on me that this is
one thing i can assuredly believe
from him each time he says it.

i beg him one more time not
to visit that girl in atlanta.
"she scares me," i tell him. "i'm
so frightened for you right now."
"would it help you if i called
you every hour while i was
in the city?" he asks me.
i heave a sigh that is half
relief and half frustration and
i smile at the blank screen.
"that would help me so much."
somehow, i get the impression
that a thousand miles away he
is smiling at his blank screen too.
"good," he says. "although,
i think i would have been
calling you each hour anyway."
i don't know what to say to
that so i let him say goodbye
and leave for his late lunch.
before he leaves he tells me
that i am like a thunderstorm
in saint louis, like a new pair
of socks, like a goddess.
"you are everything that
makes my world good, and
everything that is good in
this world reminds me of you."
stunned, i ask him how a
new pair of socks is good.
he laughs, and even though
all i see is "lol" it sounds in my
head like a cello vibrating.
his name goes gray and even
though i still do not want him
to go to atlanta i wave
uselessly at the screen
as a smile begins to form.

i suppose that if i want to
know how a new pair of
socks is good i will just
have to wait around and see.

i sit at my computer and my
sister is curled into a ball on
her bed, hands clasped tight
around her knees as she stares
unseeingly at the spot on her
bookshelf where the guinea pig
cage used to be. i can't tell
which looks more empty, the
bookshelf or her eyes. i notice
that the phone is still clutched
in her hand. i want to tell her
something comforting and
worldly but before i can think
what to say the sky cracks
open and the rain is blowing
through my open window. i
dash to close it and by the
time i turn back to my sister
she is facing the other way.

i know what that means.
"thanks, but no thanks."

i turn my thoughts to the boy
who talked to me for a few
brief moments while he was at
school, preparing for a meeting
with a professor while he ate
his lunch. he told me he was
doing fine, and i told him the
same. i think we know each other
well enough to see we are both
lying. for those few precious
minutes, as we joked together
and shared stories of his
student teaching and my
sister's guinea pig, it almost
seemed like normal again.
i miss him terribly. but it's
the way you miss the christmases
you had as a little kid, all the
excitement and novelty and
childlike glee at the simplest things.
nothing is simple for me anymore,
and i can't get those christmases
back. so i have stopped pining
for christmas because i know it's
useless. yet i can tell he hasn't.
i don't know how to make him
feel better, this boy who was
once my heart and soul and
every single thing that meant a
damn in the universe. but in the
deep corners of my mind, i know
what will make him better.

"if you love him, let him go."

my brother is in the bathroom
telling a story aloud while he is
supposed to be brushing his
teeth. i wonder if he knows
our sister was just in there
crying to her boyfriend about
her guinea pig. i wonder if he
cares. i wonder if he knows
i can hear his strange sound
effects. i wonder if he cares.
i watch my old best friend's
name sign off aol, and
i watch my new best friend's
name sign on. i ask her if
the other two kittens are okay.
she sends me a *hug*, tells
me they are fine, and asks how
the boy who sends me cello
videos is faring in mexico.
i smile when i see his name
in print, though it takes me
a few seconds to realize it.

the boy who isn't supposed to
be talking to me tells me what
movie he's watching, thinking
i'll care or something. and the
boy who talked to me at school
hasn't been online since three.
but i force myself to shake off
the impulse to call him and say
"hey honey, just checking in
with you..." because i'm not
supposed to care, remember?