A Dustland Fairytale

“She’s got everything going for her, so I’ll go for her with everything I’ve got.” – The Academy Is…

My least favorite day of the week had always been Sunday. It always dragged by, threatening to end so that the school week could begin. I refused to get out of bed before noon, irritating my stepmother because she loved going out to breakfast on Sunday mornings. My parents left the house around 10:30, and I knew they wouldn’t be back for a few hours. At 12:07, I rolled out of bed and walked downstairs in search of coffee and food – breakfast or lunch, I didn’t care.

One of the things I liked about our new house in California was the stereo system. It ran through the family room and into the kitchen, so that I could play Bob Dylan as loud as I wanted while I waited for the coffee to be finished. I filled a bowl with Frosted Flakes and ate my breakfast at the kitchen counter, staring out the back window at our grassy backyard. While I was eating, I realized I really, really missed the concrete streets and buildings of New York. California was nice and all, but I’d never think of it as my home.

After ten minutes, I was sick of sitting at home alone. The silence in the house – near silence, except for Bob Dylan’s distinctive voice – was driving me insane. I went back upstairs to my room to pull on clean jeans and an old Rolling Stones t-shirt my dad had bought at one of their concerts in the 70s. I grabbed my sunglasses and scribbled a note for my parents and left it on the kitchen counter, pulling my leather jacket over my shoulders as I walked out the door. I was going driving, but I had no idea where.

I started the engine and rolled my bike out of the driveway, heading towards town instead of towards the ocean. I wove up and down residential streets, taking a random path towards the main stores and restaurants in the city. I dodged traffic and lost myself to the road, concentrating on driving and letting all other thoughts drift out of my head – even thoughts of Juliet.

After a while, when I’d made it to the center of town, I stopped my bike and parked it on the street. I stepped away and sat down on a bench, just watching the cars drive past me. I hoped my parents wouldn’t walk past the bench and see me sitting there. My stepmother would probably think I was insane, and my dad would simply be confused.

I had only been sitting on the bench for a few minutes when a familiar voice behind me caused me to turn around.

“Dean?” Hunter had been walking behind me, and he’d stopped when he realized I was sitting on the bench.

Pushing the sunglasses up onto my head, I turned and said, “Hey.” I really didn’t want to talk to Hunter. He hadn’t done anything to offend me, but he didn’t talk to me and try to befriend me, either. From the first day of school, Hunter had watched me, almost as though he was judging me.

“Mind I if I sit here?” he asked, motioning to the empty part of the bench next to me. I shook my head and he sat down, pushing his perfectly messy blond hair out of his face and staring at the street. For a few minutes we sat in silence, the noise of people and traffic the only sound. Finally, Hunter said, “Juliet likes you.”

I turned to him, confused. It seemed he had no reason for making this statement, and apparently, he had nothing else to say. We sat in silence again, while I thought about what Hunter had said. It was a simple enough statement: Juliet likes you. But I wondered why he’d said that, instead of something else. Of all the words in the English language, why was that the sentence he’d told me? It didn’t seem like Hunter had some sort of claim on Juliet, but I was new – they were definitely close, but they didn’t appear to be in a relationship.

Hunter sighed and spoke again. “Our parents – my parents and Juliet’s parents – expect us to get married and live in California and raise our kids just like they raised us. Neither of us wants that, but we don’t really want to let our parents down, either. People like us, we’ve got expectations. We can’t just ignore them, no matter what we want. Juliet likes you, but her parents want her to like me.” I raised my eyebrows, wondering why he was telling me this entire story. Juliet had sort of explained it to me, and I understood what she hadn’t directly said.

“That’s… well, that sucks,” I said, unsure of how to respond. “But uhm, I really don’t see what I can do about any of this.”

Hunter shook his head. “I don’t know what you can do, either. I guess I just wanted to tell you I think you’re a good guy, and I know Juliet would be happy with you.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. Of all the things Hunter could have said to me, that was the last I had expected. I hadn’t really been looking for his consent, but for some reason I decided I wasn’t giving up on Juliet. “Thanks, I guess.”

Hunter nodded. “I mean, Juliet’s nice and hot and everything, but I’ve known her since we were toddlers. Honestly, it’d just be really weird to be married to her. I love her, but… at this point, I feel more like she’s my sister than my girlfriend.” He laughed to himself and looked out at the street. “And – not that she’d ever like me – but I’ve got this crush on…” He shook his head and covered his face with his hand. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this… I’ve got this crush on Poppy.”

“Really?” I asked again. Hunter nodded silently. I was surprised by our random, heart-to-heart conversation on the street, but I gave him advice, anyways. “If you like her, tell her. Otherwise you’ll never have a chance.”

Smiling, he said, “Thanks.” He glanced at his phone and stood up. “Really – thanks, Dean. I’ve gotta go. See you in school tomorrow.” He walked away and I stayed on the bench, my head buzzing with thoughts of Juliet again. I wasn’t sure how, but I knew I had to get her to go after what she wanted and to forget about everyone else. I needed to make Juliet make herself happy – by going out with me.