Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda

Anyway, that’s the eight of us. And it’s basically locked down. Already, we’re squeezing two extra chairs into a six-person table.

“Yeah, well.” Martin tilts backward in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. “I just figured we were on the same page here with the Abby thing, but . . .”

Then he raises his eyebrows at me. Seriously.

So, we haven’t exactly laid out the terms of this blackmail arrangement, but clearly it goes something like this: Martin asks for whatever the hell he wants. And then I’m supposed to do it.

It’s just so fucking awesome.

“Look, I want to help you.”

“Whatever you say, Spier.”

“Listen.” I lower my voice, almost to a whisper. “I’m gonna talk to her and stuff. Okay? But you’ve got to let me handle it.”

He shrugs.

I feel his stink-eye on me all the way to my table.

I have to act normal. It’s not like I can say anything. I mean, now I have to say something about him to Abby, I guess. But it’ll be the exact opposite of what I want to say.

It may be a little hard getting Abby to like this kid. Because I kind of can’t stand him.

I guess that’s beside the point now.

Except the days keep ticking by, and I still haven’t handled it. I haven’t talked to Abby, or invited Martin along to crap, or locked them into empty classrooms together. I don’t even know what he wants, honestly.

I’m kind of hoping to avoid finding out for as long as humanly possible. I guess I’ve been doing a lot of disappearing. Or glomming onto Nick and Leah, so Martin won’t try to talk to me. I pull into the parking lot on Tuesday, and Nora hops out—but when I don’t follow, she pokes her head back inside.

“Um, are you coming?”

“Eventually,” I say.

“All right.” She pauses. “Are you okay?”

“What? Yeah.”

She looks at me.

“Nora. I’m fine.”

“Okay,” she says, stepping back. She shuts the door with a soft click and heads toward the entrance. I don’t know. Nora’s weirdly observant sometimes, but talking to her about stuff can be kind of awkward. I never really noticed it until Alice left for school.

I end up playing around on my phone, refreshing my email and watching music videos on YouTube. But there’s a knock on the passenger side window, and I almost jump. I think I’ve started expecting to see Martin everywhere. Except it’s just Nick. I gesture through the window for him to come in.

He climbs into the seat. “What are you doing?”

Avoiding Martin.

“Watching videos,” I say.

“Oh man. Perfect. I’ve got this song in my head.”

“If it’s by the Who,” I inform him, “or Def Skynyrd or anyone like that, then no freaking way.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say ‘Def Skynyrd.’”

I love messing with Nick.

We end up watching part of an episode of Adventure Time as a compromise, and it’s the exact perfect distraction. I keep an eye on the clock, because I don’t actually want to miss English class. I just want to cut off that margin of time before class begins, where Martin might try to talk to me.

And it’s funny. I know Nick can tell something’s up with me, but he doesn’t ask questions or try to make me talk. It’s just one of those things about us. I know his voice and expressions and his weird little habits. His random existential monologues. The way he taps his fingertips along the pad of his thumb when he’s nervous. And I guess he probably knows the same kinds of things about me. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were four. But really, I don’t have a clue what goes on inside his head most of the time.

It actually reminds me a lot of the thing Blue posted on the Tumblr.

Nick takes my phone and starts scrolling through the videos. “If we can find one with Christ imagery, we can totally justify skipping English.”

“Um, if we find Christ imagery, I’m using Adventure Time for my free-response essay.”

He looks at me and laughs.

The thing is, it isn’t lonely with Nick. It’s just easy. So maybe it’s a good thing.

I’m a little early for Thursday’s rehearsal, so I slip out the side door of the auditorium and walk around to the back of the school. It’s actually pretty chilly for Georgia, and it looks like it rained sometime after lunch. Really, though, there are only two kinds of weather: hoodie weather and weather where you wear a hoodie anyway.

I must have left my earbuds in my backpack in the auditorium. I hate listening to stuff through the speakers of my phone, but music is always better than no music. I lean against the brick wall behind the cafeteria, searching my music library for an EP by Leda. I haven’t listened to it yet, but the fact that Leah and Anna are obsessed is a promising sign.

Suddenly, I’m not alone.

“Okay, Spier. What’s your deal?” Martin asks, sidling up beside me against the wall.

“My deal?”

“I think you’re avoiding me.”