Cory McBrown: Year 2-Chapter 6

February 10th, 2003

“I hate Harry Barton!” Sam comes up to me at the lunch counter.

I look at her quizzically. “Why?”

“The little gobshite cancelled our date for tonight. Said he had other plans.”

“What plans?”

“His new friend, a stupid jock, has him getting into sports. So he’s trying out for the dumb rugby team this evening.”

I look at Sam. “I see you’re having feelings about this, but I’m not hearing them,” I say.

She gives me a look. “You sound just like your mum.”

I smile. “I know.”

Sam folds her arms. “It’s not just tonight. He’s been cancelling plans left and right. It’s like he’s not interested in me or something.”

I get my lunch and start walking to the tables. “If you think so, I would ask him. If that’s the case, drop him. You don’t need that negativity in your life.”

“I just don’t like being on the receiving end of disinterest… I don’t mind dishing it out, but I hate it when it’s done to me.”

“Sam! That’s mean,” I say.

Before Sam can refute what I said, John comes running over. “Guess what Trudy just did!”

“Ugh! I don’t want to hear about your stable relationship,” Sam puts her head on the table.

John frowns in confusion. I look at him. “She’s having trouble with Harry Barton.”

John nods. “Oh, I see.”

“So what happened?” I ask.

“She asked me to the Valentine’s Day dance!”

“Oh, what are you doing to me???” Sam buries her face in her arms.

“Come on, I’m sure Harry will ask you,” John tries to make her feel better.

“Aye, when leprechauns reach 6 feet,” Sam says.

I can’t help but laugh, but I know I shouldn’t because Sam’s really hurting, even though I know she will never say that.

Instead I pat her back. “Don’t worry, Sam. We could go together and make fun of the people with dates,”

John frowns. “Hey!”

“Not you, silly,” I say. “You’re John, not people, remember?”

John nods. Then Bart comes to join us.

“Are you and Mary going to the Valentine’s Day dance?” I ask him.

“Maybe. We also talked about ditching the dance and just going on a date,” he says.

“Uh oh. He’s turning into an adult,” John says.

Bart gives him a look. “You’re not that far away, you know.”

I shudder. “Don’t remind me,” I say. I’m not sure I want to be an adult. Adult lives seem much more complicated than kid lives.

We spend the rest of the lunch hour chatting away, and then we all walk together to our next classes, even though Bart’s going to a different one.

On the way, we run into Harry Barton with his new jock friends. Sam asks to wait for a moment and goes up to talk to him.

“Hi, Harry,” she says.

Harry looks at her weird. “Oh, hi, Sam,” he says, nonchalantly. Before he would’ve acted happy to see her.

Sam doesn’t seem to notice, or she ignores it. “I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Valentine’s Day dance with me.”

Harry blushes bright red. His rugby mates snicker. “Why would you want to go to that?”

“Because I like you, and I thought it might be fun if we went together,” Sam says.

Harry sticks his nose up. He is acting really weird. “I don’t know. I don’t think I have time. I- I’ll see you around, Sam.”

They all leave. Sam looks like she’s gonna cry. Bart looks at me. “What was that about?”

“Harry’s acting a little weird,” I say.

I go up to Sam. “Are you okay?”

Sam is already trying to shake off the tears. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Let’s just go to class.”

I don’t really want to just let it hang, but I’m never gonna get Sam to talk if she doesn’t want to.

February 11th, 2003

At the dinner table, I just sort of play with my food. Bart’s doing homework, having already finished.

Mum takes notice of the fact that I’m eating so slowly. “Honey, is something wrong?”

I sigh. “Sam’s having trouble with Harry Barton and she won’t talk to me about it.”

“What kind of trouble?” Mum asks.

“He’s being a wanker to her,” Bart chimes in. “He acted like her barely knew her in front of his rugby mates.”

“But she won’t talk to me about it,” I say.

Mum nods. “Well, Sam probably needs time to process it.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “But I want her to talk to me.”

“Cancer,” Bart teases.

“Exactly,” I say. “I want to help her. Why won’t anyone I want to help let me help them?!”

“Well, it sounds like this is your lesson right now. You can’t help someone unless they allow you to, and they’re ready to receive it,” Mum says. “For Smithy, based on what you said, he’s an addict. He’s never going to let anyone talk him out of that, unless he decides he wants to live differently. For Sam, it’s less severe. She’s not used to being rejected or hurt in that kind of way, and she doesn’t deal well with it. She needs time to nurse her wounds, but she’ll talk to you when she’s ready.”

I sigh. “You’re right.”

I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. But I don’t want Sam to pull away from me. She’s my best friend in the whole world, and I don’t know that I could do life without her.

February 12th, 2003

Well, I didn’t have to worry too much. Sam was ready to talk the next day. We go to her house after school and raid the freezer for ice cream.

“I’m totally over Harry Barton,” she says.

I nod. “Sure you are,” I say.

She gives me a look. “Why do you say that?”

“You expect me to believe that after only two days your wounds are healed and you don’t care that Harry just tossed you aside?”

“I’m a Gemini,” she reasons.

Well, I can’t really argue with that. It’s true. She has a Gemini Sun and Moon. It doesn’t take her long to get over things.

“Still,” I say. “That had to have hurt.”

“Well, I’ll admit, I felt like slashing his tires when he pretended like he didn’t know me, but who cares? There are plenty of people who do, and I don’t need Harry Barton to feel special.”

I nod. “Well, that I agree with.”

John comes in from upstairs with his homework. “Is anyone else having trouble with their essay about people you never got a chance to talk to? I don’t know who to write to.”

“I think I’m gonna write a scathing letter to Harry Barton and read in front of the whole class,” Sam says.

“Sam!” I say.

“What? It’s within the parameters of the assignment.”

“Who are you writing to, Cory?” John asks me.

“I bet she writes to Smithy…” Sam teases.

“Catch yourself on… I did write to him, but that’s not the one I’m turning in,” I say. “I wrote to my dad.”

“Oh… I didn’t think of parents,” John says.

“Neither did I… Maybe I should consider that,” Sam says.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Sam gets up to answer it, and of all people, it’s Harry Barton.

“Harry? What are you doing here?” She asks.

“We had a date, remember?” He says.

John and I look at each other, knowing this is not going to end well. This guy’s about to get his head chewed off.

“You expect me to go out on a date with you after you pretended like you didn’t even know me? And why are you dressed like that?”

“It’s the new me! I’m a jock now,” he says.

Sam rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Harry. You’re only a jock because you want the approval of those wankers who think they’re better than everyone else. You’ve been emo since 5th class.”

Harry starts to say something, but Sam continues. “Look, I’m not going to judge what you want to do. But I’m also not going to waste my time with someone who isn’t going to be genuine. If you’re ready to be authentic, you can call me. But not if you’re being someone you’re not.”

Sam just leaves it at that and goes upstairs. Harry stands there stunned, and John and I sit there uncomfortably.