The Three Month High

Chapter 2

What the heck was this?

                I kept glancing at him out of the corner of my vision. His eyes were dead and looking through people like he used to. His back was hunched and his breathing haggard. This was the Harry I’d experienced for the last three years. What had happened to the Harry of a day ago? When he was like this everyone ignored him. Some people were scared of him, some people made fun of him but one thing was certain, he wasn’t making many friends.

                When first period finally ended and most of our classmates had filed out of the room I confronted him immediately. “What’s wrong with you?”

                He looked up at me blankly for a moment before something akin to realization flooded his face. “Ah, you’re…that girl.”

                “That girl?” I repeated back to him. “Are you really going to act like you don’t even recognize me? After you blackmailed and terrorized me yesterday?”

                He shrugged. “Have you said ‘hi’ to Connor yet?”

                I shook my head. “No, but I will.”

                “Make sure it isn’t a passing ‘hi’. It needs to stick in his head.”

                “Yeah, yeah I got it.”         

                “Good. Don’t talk to me at school again. Agnes.” He laid his head down on his desk and shut his eyes.

                “Don’t you have to get to your next class?”

                He didn’t so much as respond.

                I could feel my blood levels spiking. “Hey, just because it’s almost summer you shouldn’t just skip classes.”

                He looked up at me. “Who are you again?”

                I honestly couldn’t tell if he was a jerk or a psycho. Either way I was about to let him have it when a deep teachers voice caused me to spin around. Mr. Brogan, one of the strictest faculty members in the entire school.

                “Shouldn’t you be in your next class Miss?”

                “Ah…sorry.” I straightened out my blouse. “I was just trying to get my classmate to come along.”

                Mr. Brogan took a few steps through the door and peered around her towards Harry. “Leave him be and move along.”

                I passed the biology teacher on my way out and--to my surprise--he followed me. “What about Harry?”

                “Like I said. Leave him be.”

                I didn’t see Harry for the rest of the day. Not even in the fourth period class I shared with him. Was he playing hooky or something? It seemed almost as if  Mr. Brogan had allowed him to flagrantly break the rules.

                I was so taken up in my thoughts that I completely forgot about the passionate greeting I was supposed to give to Connor. That was fine I decided, doing what Harry suggest probably wouldn’t amount to anything, the guy was far too suspicious.

                He only became more suspicious when--after I had driven out of the school parking lot--he magically appeared on the back seat.

                “How’d things go with your soon-to-be-lover?”

                I nearly wrecked the car. “What are you doing!?”

                “Didn’t I say lessons would commence after school?”

                “That doesn’t mean you can just…” I calmed myself down a bit. Why was I freaking out over him sneaking into my car? Yesterday had already made it plenty apparent that I couldn’t expect normal or rational behavior from him. I was beginning to wonder if perhaps I should be a little more concerned for my own safety while around him. “Where were you all day?”

                “I was around. Sleeping mostly. Waiting for the fun to begin. Did you say hi to Connor?”

                “Well…no I didn’t get the chance.”

                “You chickened out? Lame. Well the greeting stage was more for the sake of testing out your courage anyway, its not the first step to actually getting you your boyfriend. Still…we have to make your primary and secondary impressions before school ends, otherwise the summertime relationship development will get much more difficult. We’ll raise the flag tomorrow. For now let’s go to my house.”

                I wasn’t following most of what he said at the beginning and I didn’t bother responding to all that blather. It seemed as if he was more talking to himself than anything else. “What am I? Your personal chauffer?”

                “We’ll take my car from there. There’s so much to do and so many sights to see.”

                I was somewhat surprised. “You have a car? Was that ride I gave you last Saturday completely unnecessary?”

                “No I took the bus into town for the jump.”

                Harry directed me to his house. Another shocker. My dad made a fair sum of money and we had a nice house. Harry’s house had to be at least four times the size of mine. His car was a bright red convertible that probably cost ten times s much as my vehicle. Didn’t kids whose parents had this kind of money normally go to expensive private schools?

                “Are we stealing someone’s car?”

                Harry grinned. “It’s impossible to have fun in a dinky car like yours.”

                I tried to act offended but it was hard to argue when he revved his car’s powerful engines. I entered on the passenger side. “Why don’t you drive to school?”

                “Cause I don’t want to. Who wants to be flashy in a place where dreams go to die?”

                It wasn’t much of an answer but asking him for clarity was like asking a rock for water--only God could make it happen. Still. Wouldn’t anyone who came to school in a ride like this become a lot more popular. Harry wasn’t bad-looking, just antisocial, if girls found out he was this rich he probably wouldn’t have trouble getting a girl who was willing to put up with his dreary personality--or at least the dreary persona he put forth at school.

                He pulled carefully out of his drive way and also maneuvered slowly out of his neighborhood but the moment he got on the highway he became a speed demon. I gripped the seatbelt around my chest, I always wore it, but at this speed it felt as if it wasn’t doing much for me.

                He weaved in and out of traffic while talking casually. “Are you hungry?”

                I confirmed that I was a little hungry. I’d spent most of my lunch period looking for him--I didn’t tell him that much though.

                “I’ll cover. What kind of meal are you in the mood for? Burgers? Steak dinner? Seafood? Tacos? Pizza?”

                “Steak dinner? Are you offering to pay for an expensive meal or are you talking about a steak sandwich from a fast food joint?”

                He shrugged. “Who knows? Just tell me what you’re in the mood for.”

                “Steak” sort of slipped out. The next thing I knew we were at an absurdly overpriced steakhouse. I wasn’t sure if he was serious as he motioned me inward. Would they even let a couple of kids in wearing plain day clothes? The host--a tall and gangly man with a curving mustache--was rightfully dubious of us. Harry whipped out his cell-phone and made a quick call.

                The manager of the restaurant came out and greeted him. When the host saw that the two of them were practically on a first-name basis he ushered us to our seats with, what could be considered, unnecessary politeness.

                I nibbled on the fresh sour dough bread that was provided as I considered the long list of entrées. I would have felt more uncomfortable with what I was wearing if our booth wasn’t so sheltered and secluded. I didn’t have to look at all the people wearing fancy gowns and tux-like suits.

                “Might I suggest their filet mignon.”

                 My eyes bulged as I looked at the price. “Are you sure this is alright?”

                He nodded.

                After our food and drink were squared away he began getting into his proposed plan to hook me up with Connor.

                “You didn’t say ‘hi’ to him today but I suppose that’s partly my fault as well. It’s fine because that stage was more for me to assess you, it’s not necessary.”

                I still wasn’t sure about all this but I listened to him nonetheless.

                “You don’t strike me as the type who plays video games. Are you?”

                I shook my head. “Almost never.”

                “So you definitely don’t play dating simulation games?”

                “No, sounds a little desperate. Do you?”

                He shrugged. I don’t play games as much as I make them. Of all the different types of games making dating simulations is the most fun. Replicating feelings, emotions, responses, it all takes a deep rooted understanding of the human nature.”

                “Are you basically telling me that this whole thing about getting me together with Connor is you converting your video game fetish into a real life fetish?”

                He blanched. “No. That’s not what I’m saying at all. There is a reason why I’m doing this but that’s not it and you won’t know what it is until after the three months are up. I was talking about dating simulations to answer how we’re going to ensnare Connor.”

                I looked at him skeptically. “How we’re going to ensnare Connor?”

                He nodded. “That’s right. See, first impression is the key. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a good first impression, it just needs to be a big one. Something to burn you into his mind.” Harry cracked his knuckles excitedly. “In dating games this is called ‘raising a flag’. We generate instant interest in you and proceed from there to curve and shape that interest to suit your desire for him.”

                “A big impression? What do you mean by that? How do I make a big impression?”

                “Don’t worry about that. Leave it all up to me. I’ll take care of that tomorrow. You should be sure to wear something bright and exciting. You’re really pretty, you just don’t stress that beauty enough.”

                I appreciated the sentiment but something about the way he said it made me want to punch him rather than smile.

                “Connor’s got girls all over him--foremost of which being Sarah--but he never dates them, that means you have an extra high hurdle to jump. It’s not just that you need to make him want you but you first need to make him want a relationship in general.”

                Our food finally arrived.

                Harry wasn’t kidding. I wasn’t much of a ‘meat’ person but the steak was amazing. He also allowed me to try some of his mushroom ravioli. I definitely wasn’t much of a ‘mushroom’ person but even that was good.

                “Dessert?”

                “No thanks.”

                Harry turned to the waiter and ordered some dulche-deluxe-cheesecake-something-or other.

                It sounded delicious. It looked even better.

                Harry pushed the plate between us and handed me a fork. “You’re not going to make me eat all of this just for the sake of your diet are you? Since we’re best friends now you have a duty and responsibility to help me polish off treats like this.”

                I acted as if he coerced me into it but I think both of us knew I really wanted some, he humored me though.

                “So. Do you have a curfew?”

                I shrugged. I’d never really stayed out all that late so my mom had never bother to lay one out. I thought about her nightly drunken amorousness with my father. “No…my parents probably won’t even notice when I get home.”

                Harry withdrew a hundred and a fifty and tucked it into the check. “Well if you won’t get in any trouble”, he stood and offered me his hand, “the night is still young, let’s live it up.”

                He had that mischievous grin of his, the sort of grin that made me think he was going to try to sneak us into some eighteen and up club or something.

                We ended up going laser tagging.

                If someone had asked me what it meant to live it up at the beginning of that day I probably wouldn’t have been able to give a good answer. By the end of the night I’d probably have answered “not laser tag after eating ridiculously rich and creamy cheese-cake.” But in the middle of the games--which went on for about four and a half hours, as Harry threw himself around the dark room as if he was in the midst of actual combat, I probably would have said, “this is it.”

                Afterwards he bought cotton candy--it turned out he had an unexpected sweet-tooth and we walked around for a while. We didn’t talk about all that much, just trivial stuff, but actually being listened to and listening to another person was great. It felt a far cry different from whatever meaningless relationships I’d managed to slap together throughout my high-school days.

                He dropped me off at my house around eleven-thirty and gave me an odd farewell. “Tomorrow, at school, be a stranger.” He peeled away before I could respond.

                I went straight to my room, exhausted. Before I slept I noticed the absence of my wallet but for the life of me couldn’t remember if I had even brought it to school with me that day.