Janie's Eternal Freedom

“I got your text last night.” I mumble as Marcus slips inside my car again. This time, I don’t hesitate to put it into drive and rush out of the parking lot.

Marcus winks at me and rests a hand on my knee. I look at it, and then stare back at the road. His hand feels weird against my leg and almost uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“Oh yeah? Did you like it?” he says. His hand moves farther up my leg, but I brake all of a sudden, realizing that the stoplight had just turned red. From the braking, his hand jumps back, leaving my leg. He tucks his hand into his pocket, while I smile at how much more comfortable I feel now. He starts staring out the window while munching on some tater-tots.

“Yeah. And so did my mom.” I mumble.

Marcus quickly turns his head around and looks at me nervously. “What?” he exclaims. I laugh. “She snatched it out of my hand, and I had to do what I had to do.” I say.

Marcus moves in closer, looking at me with big puppy eyes that I can’t help but laugh. “And what is that?” I laugh again. Marcus is pretending to hyperventilate.

“I told her that you’re helping me get into UC Berkeley.” I say. Marcus slaps his hand in front of his eyes and groans. “Oh, the horror! Janie? How could you do that to me? Now your mother thinks that I am a genius! Not to mention devilishly handsome! How can I live?” Marcus exclaims sarcastically. I chuckle once again, but I don’t laugh too hard because then I’d look ridiculous. Well, I always look ridiculous, but I wouldn’t want to increase it.

“How will you live? We’ll have to bring you to Australia. You’ll have to stare at girls in bikinis all day. I am so sorry, Marcus. I’m sure Australia won’t be that bad.” I say. I like the little game that’s going on. It exposes Marcus’s funny side and not his perverted side, which I see quite often.

“Oh, but Australia will be that bad! Staring at sexy girls with barely anything on? TORTURE!” He screams.

There’s a silence for a few seconds, before both of us burst into hysterics. I have to pull over just so we can finish our laughing.

I sneak a peek over at Marcus. He looks so innocent and friendly in the moment, that you would never realize that he is the source of practically the majority of everyone’s test scores in JV. He looks like a boy right now. A naïve boy.

He soon notices me staring and his hand creeps up my leg again. I stop laughing, and so does he and we finish the ride in utter silence.

It was good to see that side of Marcus. It reminded me of who he really was, even if it was just for a few minutes.

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“So honey, your mother and I are going to be away in Costa Rica for the weekend. I want you to take good care of the house.” Dad says, reading the newspaper while eating cinnamon bread. Mom is out shopping with her “gal pals” while dad just came home from work. I rarely ever see them together anymore.

“Well…the thing is, dad…” I mumble, looking at the ground. I’m in the kitchen with him, also eating some bread. Dad gestures for me to say more.

“I just, I might be going to a party on Saturday.” I say, looking up at him with a hopeful look. Dad’s eyes widen and puts down his cinnamon bread. “Well, that’s a first.” He mumbles.

I scoff. My dad treats me like I have no life, even though I really don’t. It’s just weird to know that my father knows I’m so unpopular in JV. “Yeah. I know. It’s Rigg Sony’s party.” I remark.

Dad smiles. “Oh, is his father Oakland Sony? We go golfing sometimes in the country club.” My dad says. I hate it when he acts like this. It’s like he wants to remind me that we’re super rich and we go golfing and skiing and he plays polo and all that shit. But then again, I’m also surprised. Rigg’s dad and my dad play golf together? I certainly never knew that.

“Oh. Well, that’s cool.” I say. Dad smirks again and hammers me with even more questions. “Is it a kick-back?” He asks. I raise one eyebrow. What in hell is a kick-back?

I scratch the back of my neck and gulp. “Yeah. I bet it’s going to be pretty sober.” I say. I know that most kids don’t usually talk to their parents like this, but my mom and dad take pleasure in hearing that things are going to be “wild” because I’ve never participated in anything close to it.

“A kick-back? A kick-back isn’t supposed to be sober…” My dad says. He opens the fridge and gets a bottle of Hydrola. How ironic.

“Well, still. You never know, dad.” I counter, laughing nervously and hoping he’ll just drop the subject. Thankfully, he does and smirks at me. “So, Rigg Sony is a very handsome boy. Ever wonder if you two will get together?” He asks me.

I know what he’s doing now. He wants me to “break up” with Marcus and get with someone that’s up to his standards. Little does he know that Rigg and I have fewer chances than a 5 year old in an Olympic swim meet.

“I mean, I don’t know. Rigg really isn’t my type.” I say. And it’s completely true.

“Well, how about that boy…what’s his name? His dad’s in a coma?” For some reason, I get strangely defensive. It just seems so rude the way that my dad starts describing Torrin. It’s like the only thing that defines him is that his dad is a vegetable.

“Are you talking about Torrin Kennedy?” I say, gritting my teeth. Dad laughs and rests a hand on my shoulder. “No need to get mad. If you have feelings for this boy, you can just tell me. I would’ve loved to do business with his father, but then…you know.” Dad looks at me and smiles. “How is he holding up?” That’s probably the only decent things he’s said this whole conversation.

I shrug. “I guess he’s OK. He’s sure that his dad is going to wake up.” I say.

Dad nods. “Well, that’s always the spirit, eh?”

I smile and gulp. I guess that Torrin is strong for going around, acting like everything is fine, while his dad is in the hospital. It’s refreshing to know that he’s just like everybody else. With problems, and not high and almighty like Adonis.

“Yeah.” I answer. “It is.”