Underneath, Installment Two
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When Meg was confused, depressed, or just unsure of herself in general, she walked to the student cafe and spent 65 cents on a bag of Skittles. She then took them to a picnic table and arranged them in groups by color, and then ate them one at a time, allowing them to soften in her mouth, let her saliva dissolve the candy shell, and then chew them slowly. She couldn't recall where she'd gotten this habit; only that it was one of her habits and she stuck to it.
Sometimes when time was running short, however, she resigned to carrying the Skittles in her pocket and eating them silently through a lecture, or film, or church service. This particular day after that fateful poetry reading, Meg had to take her Skittles to a lecture, in Doctor Barney's C.S. Lewis literature class. Today was a particularly enlightening lecture on sehnsucht- wistful, tearful longing of joy, as Matthew Arnold put it. Sehnsucht (a German word) literally meant longing, but was generally used in the English to denote the sort of thrill that goes along with the longing.
Meg normally would have eaten the lecture up with a silver spoon, but she was far too busy furrowing her brow, drawing question marks around the Skittles laying on her open notebook, and debating when and how she should call Isaac. In this distracted state, it was easy to see that she missed the part where Professor Barney excused the class and approached her seat.
"Ahem," Professor Barney said politely. Meg looked up, surprised. Barney picked up a red Skittle from her notebook and put it into his mouth. His eyes sparkled with a sort of happiness that for a split moment made Megan ache with a sort of jealousy she wasn't familiar with.
"I'm sorry; I didn't pay attention at all today," Meg confessed immediately.
"I noticed," Professor Barney said jovially, balancing his tweed-clad figure on the edge of a desk. He was a charming little man in his early 60s, graying and faded like many of the books in his library, but just as indispensable and just as valuable. The sunlight fell upon the front crease in his pants like a smile from God. Meg met his intent gaze and immediately shunned it. She felt ashamed; she was a better student, than to waste away an excellent lecture period with silly schoolgirl thoughts of an adolescent crush. "Care to tell me what's on your mind, Miss LaFortune?"
"It's really nothing important," she said modestly. Barney raised his caterpillar eyebrows. "I just met someone last night and I'm afraid it's got me all in a twist."
"Someone, being a young man you're fond of?" Meg blushed.
"Sort of. Someone I've never met before, but that I knew of before I'd met him," she said vaguely. No use making her sound ridiculous in front of the professor. "Anyway, he wants me to call him, and I don't know why but I feel unprepared for all of this."
"So what have you resolved to do?" Meg didn't know why her professor took such an interest in her personal matters, but she was secretly relieved for the confidence.
"I'm not sure. I was going to just forget it, and not call." She sighed. "I don't think that would be very polite, though."
"And there is the matter of selfdeprivation." Meg looked up at Barney curiously. "The human spirit has a way of thriving on those little joys in life, Miss LaFortune. To deprive oneself of the opportunity before even giving oneself the chance to explore is an unusual cruelty to inflict upon one's own spirit."
"I-" Meg began, but felt she had nothing more to say. She knew he was right, and said so. As she was packing up her candy and notebook in her messenger bag, Professor Barney chuckled.
"So is he a student here?" he asked.
"Oh, no." Meg smiled and stood up straight. "He's from around here, but I don't think he's ever attended college." Barney's eyebrows raised.
"I see. Well do promise me, at the very least, that matters of this young man won't affect your contributions to our class in the future." Ah- so there was the professor's main interest.
"Yes, sir," Meg promised. "I'm really very sorry."
"I know you are." He waved her out of the lecture hall.
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For his part, Isaac had been attempting to improve his skill with a wok, but it was proving a disastrous affair and he'd given up in favor of putting the telephone number of a good Chinese delivery service on the refrigerator, and settled down with microwave popcorn instead of a real dinner. The last of the baseball season was being shown on ESPN, and Isaac contented himself to an Angels vs. Mariners game. In spite of all these distractions, however, Isaac kept one ear out for the telephone. Neither Penny nor Megan had called, and he felt incredibly rejected.
The Mariners were up in the 6th 4-3, and suddenly (miraculously) the telephone rang.
"Hello?" Isaac answered.
"Hey Ike," Penny's voice said casually. "Watching the game?"
"Yeah, Mariners are up," he said. He wanted to be furious with her, play hurt with her, demand an account of her activities with Tom, but instead he settled for casual banter, because that was where Penny was most comfortable.
"Ugh, Mariners," Penny joked. Isaac didn't really like the Angels much.
"Yeah, whatever." They were quiet for a minute.
"Hey, listen, um, did we have plans Friday?" They did have plans Friday, but Isaac knew what was coming next, so he said,
"No, I don't think so." She sighed- relief, it seemed, was not something she sensed how to hide.
"Okay, um, Tom asked me out again, so, yeah, I'm probably going to be with him, unless you really need me or anything," she said quickly.
"Why would I need you?" he asked.
"Dunno," she responded. They were quiet, and suddenly Isaac knew how to get her, without being mean.
"Met a girl," he muttered.
"Huh uh! Who?" she asked.
"Someone you don't know, I'm pretty sure," he said. "Not really your type of crowd."
"Ew, what's she like?" Penny was hanging on the details now.
"Quiet, pretty, artistic. She's a poet," he said. "Anyway, I don't know if it'll go well, but she seems pretty cool." Isaac failed to mention that they'd never actually spoken. Penny didn't know enough to catch him on that error, so she laughed happily.
"That's great, Ike. Maybe you won't spend every night cooped up in that raunchy apartment now," she said. Isaac was hurt. Raunchy apartment?
"My apartment is freakin' awesome," he stated.
"Sure," Penny giggled. Isaac smiled faintly. Something wasn't the same with Penny anymore, and though he knew it should hurt, mostly he just felt bored talking to her.
"Well, I'm gonna go," he said. There was a beep on the line as he said this, saying that there was another call coming in. "There's another call on the line."
"Oh, okay," Penny said. "Take care."
"You too. Tell Tom hi for me," he added.
"Will do. Go Angels!"
"Screw you." She hung up, and he flashed over to the other call.
"Hello?" he asked. Noise greeted his ear, and he knew it wasn't the call he was waiting for.
"Isaac, honey? It's Mom." Thomas the Tank Engine was tooting in the background and Zoe was giggling along with it; somewhere else in the house, Isaac could faintly hear Grand Theft Auto being played- probably just Zac. The news was on another station, and Jess and Avery were babbling about something particularly close to Mom. Ah, family.
"Hey Mom," Isaac said.
"How are you?"
"Fine, fine." He glanced over at the dirty dishes in his sink; while he loved talking to his mother, something about her voice inspired a guilt about housekeeping in him. "You remember telling me about that poetry thing you went to in college?"
"Ye-es... Why?"
"I checked it out last night. It was pretty cool."
"Was that safe?" Diana Hanson's voice had taken on a mildly scolding tone. Isaac smiled comfortably, and ate a piece of popcorn.
"Yeah, it was fine. The girl that was reading her poetry was really good, very talented. I liked her poetry, it was great."
"She was a babe, huh?" Mom laughed, and Isaac felt himself involuntarily blush.
"I just said she was a good poet," he said.
"Yeah, you said more than that, Mister." Diana amused herself, then sighed. "How is the cooking coming along?"
"Hit a roadblock today, but no big deal. I'll start earlier tomorrow. I'm not very good at fried rice. I always burn it," he detailed. Every night, Isaac and Diana chronicled the meandering trivialities of his day for her ease of mind and his reminiscent comfort.
"You'll get used to it eventually," she comforted. "How is Penny?"
"She's still with Tom."
"I see." Isaac muted the ballgame- the Mariners were going to win- and sighed.
"It's all right. She's just in that early stage of the relationship, you know, all ga-ga and wanting to spend all her time with him. She'll cool down, it's fine."
"I know she will, honey," Diana said softly. "In the meantime, are you going to be all right?"
"I'll be fine, Mom." Thus consoled, mother and son said their goodnights and hung up. Isaac turned off the television and glanced at the clock- ten p.m.- and decided to turn in for the night. It was early, but there was nothing else to do.
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Isaac had closed his eyes for no more than thirty seconds when the phone rang again. Meg, for her part, was dancing around on her heels, cotton balls stuffed between her toes while red toenail polish dried on her toes. "Hello?" Isaac said tiredly.
"Um.. Hi." Megan grinned at Kitty, who was busy sketching an idea for a Renaissance costume she had in mind for a play she was working on. "This is Megan LaFortune, I hope I have the right number..."
"Oh, hi!" Isaac meant to sit up, but swung himself around so violently, he fell out of bed. He cursed and dropped the phone for a moment, and then righted himself. "Sorry, are you still there?"
"Yes, I'm here," Meg said uncertainly.
"Sorry." Isaac stood up, feeling absurd talking to a stranger in his boxers in the dark, even if she was only on the phone. He pulled on a tank top and sat down on his bed again. "Um, so I take it you got my note."
"Yeah," she said. Shyness was sneaking up behind her, and whether she liked it or not, Meg was about to be overcome. Kitty sensed this and shot her a warning look, and Meg cleared her throat. "So, what did you want me to call for, exactly?" Nothing like being up-front, she thought.
"Oh, well, I guess part of me just wanted to see if you would," Isaac admitted dumbly. "But, I guess I wanted to know if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime, too." This conversation was going rapidly and Meg wanted something to savor.
"Dinner?" Kitty grinned down at her peasant sleeves.
"Or, whatever. Whatever you want," Isaac said. He hated this- the asking, the pretending not to care, the coolness when you felt hot and cared so much it burned you from the inside and you wanted to collapse and writhe in pain-! "I just thought dinner would be nice."
"Dinner would be nice," Meg agreed. "I'm kind of busy during the week- school and everything. Would this weekend work for you?"
"Yeah, this weekend is fine!" Isaac exclaimed, for a moment forgetting the cool act and letting himself slip into giddy romantic. "Is, ah, Friday night okay for you?"
"Friday is fine."
"Should I pick you up, or would you rather meet somewhere?"
"I'd rather meet you there," Meg said. Kitty cast her a startled glance. "I have a sort of personal policy about that, I just feel more comfortable... Ah, well, anyway. Where shall we meet?"
"What kind of food do you like?"
"I don't have any strong preferences," she said. He smiled.
"Is Thai okay?" Meg said that Thai was fine, and he gave her the address of a good Thai restaurant, setting the time for 8 p.m., and bidding her goodnight.
Meg hung up and jumped up and down, a radiant smile stretching across her visage.
"When, where, give me details," Kitty rattled off.
"Dinner on Friday at a Thai restaurant," Meg said, calming herself down enough to sit and turn the blowdrier on her toes.
"Well did he sound happy to hear from you?" Kitty shouted over the noise of the blowdrier.
"I think so!" Meg called back. She remembered the sounds of him falling off the bed- unmistakeable- and smiled before she turned off the blowdrier. "Yes, I think he was."
"Oh my God." Karen looked at Meg gravely. Meg turned to her, befuddled as to what could have caused the change in emotion. "What... are you going to wear?" Both girls dissolved into shrieks and giggles, the last charred remains of an adolescence quickly slipping away.