“Oh, I like that idea. I will also have plenty of board and card games available for people to play. I want to encourage everyone to hang out. I don’t need to make money, just enough to keep the place running. I’m super excited and passionate about it. I’ve been planning this in my head for years now. See, I don’t only think about girls. Though, if I’m being honest, girls still occupy most of my thoughts.”
We give the waitress all the money we have, along with our apologies, and promise to make it up to her next time.
“Just think,” Mags says. “We won’t have to stiff the waitress anymore once Neels gets his hands on that trust fund.”
“Mags, you’re terrible,” I say. “Don’t be so greedy. It’s Neel’s money, not ours.”
Neel promises that we won’t be stiffing any Waffle House waitresses anymore because Mags and I will have a lifetime of free cereal meals at The Cereal Bar to look forward to.
We arrive back at my apartment building around 10:00 p.m. leaving Neel barely enough time to drop Mags off and get home before his 11:00 p.m. curfew. It’s a big lovefest in the parking lot as we hug and congratulate one another. I came out, Neel has plans for a business, and Mags is infatuated with the mall bubble tea girl. As they pull out of the parking lot, I stand back and wave.
Neel rolls down the window and says with a grin, “Simon, before we leave, tell me again about Tammy the hair washing girl in the halter top. I want to make sure I’ve got all the details right. You know, for…later tonight. Ouch! Stop it! Stop hitting me, Mags. I’m serious, stop!”
Some things never change. I walk into the building and climb the two flights of stairs to my apartment—a smile on my face—and search my pocket for my keys. My hand twitches as I fumble to put the key in the door. A nervous feeling takes over me, and the alien in my stomach awakens. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch. It seems to whisper in my head, “Some things may never change, but other things are about to.”
17
Janice and the Tale of Two Planes
Imiss spending lunchtimes with Mags and Neel. The new normal isn’t bad, but eating lunch with Paul and Latica is quite a different experience. For one thing, there is a lot less talking and a lot less hitting during our lunches. Sometimes, we sit in silence together. But even when we are not talking, there is an understanding and a closeness forming between the three of us.
Recently, I’ve been thinking about coming out to them, but it seems a bit odd to make the announcement when Paul and Latica never talk about boys or girls. Dating and romance never come up in our conversations. I have no idea if they are gay, straight, bi, asexual, or what. Mostly, we talk about school, books, and politics, so I’m thrown off guard when Paul asks, out of the blue, if Latica and I want to have lunch with him this weekend. I’m not sure how to fit this in. I spend Saturdays with Mags and Neel, and lately I’ve been going to Starbucks on Sundays to do my homework and hang out with Hector on his breaks. I say yes anyway.
I bite my nails and stress over what to tell Mags and Neel. They know about Paul and Latica, but have they considered this new friendship might begin to compete for my hangout time with them? To be honest, I haven’t. I assumed we’d be school friends, but it now appears we are moving into the more traditional friend category. I chomp down on my nails. I guess there are worse problems I could have. Having too many friends shouldn’t be one of them.
Saturday morning, I head out to meet my new friends. A fresh batch of hives appears on my forearms, and I wish I were wearing a long-sleeve shirt to hide them. Why am I such a nervous wreck these days? I hated to do it, but I lied to Mags and Neel and told them I couldn’t hang out today. I said I had to spend the day with my father; it’s a plausible excuse they didn’t question. It’s been a few months since I’ve seen Dad, so we are overdue for spending time together. The problem will come later when Dad eventually comes calling. That’s when I’ll have to explain to Mags and Neel why I am seeing him twice in such a short period of time. That never happens, which will make them suspicious, especially Mags, but I can’t think about it now. That worry can come later.
Paul texted me this morning with the time to meet and the address of where to go. Despite my nerves, I’m intrigued and excited about the upcoming afternoon. We’re going to a local airport to have lunch and watch the planes take off. This is something I have never done before. I wonder if this will be boring or fun? What will we talk about for such a long period of time? Our previous interactions have been limited to the hour lunch break.
I pull into the Montgomery County Airpark right at noon. It’s much smaller than I imagined it would be. I’ve only been to the Baltimore/Washington International Airport before. I suppose you can’t compare the two; it’s not apples to apples. There’s a smattering of small, private planes scattered around and a few older men talking in a circle. They glance my way, but they don’t appear to be friendly at all. Their looks seem to say, What are you doing here, kid? Scram! I’m out of my comfort zone and have a sudden urge to get back in my car and go home. I’ll call Mags and Neel and tell them Dad canceled. Maybe we can go to the movies. The alien in my stomach awakens and claws at my insides to get out. Scratch, scratch, scratch. I am about to leave, like I did on the first day of school, when I hear Paul calling my name.
“Simon! Simon, we’re over here.” I see Paul and Latica in the distance sitting at a table on a wood deck attached to the building. Latica smiles and waves, and I feel guilty for almost ditching them. As I walk over, I adjust my attitude and wave back enthusiastically. The alien goes dormant.
“Welcome to the Airport Cafe, Simon,” Latica says in her sweet, whispery voice.
I look around and notice happy people having lunch on the deck. A small red-and-white plane speeds down the runway. This is cool! I pull out a chair and plop down. We are by far the youngest people here, but up on the deck, no one seems to mind.
“How did you ever find this place?” I ask.
Paul explains that he has been obsessed with planes since he was a small boy. He said his father used to bring him here when he was little to have a burger and fries and watch the planes take off.
“We used to come every weekend,” he says. “But my father died a few years ago.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” I reply.
“No worries. I’m not sad anymore. He died of cancer, and now Latica and I come here sometimes. You know…together but also separate.”
“Hey, I hope I’m not being rude, but have you two ever thought about dating?” I ask.
They chuckle.
“No, Simon, I clarified this back at school, we’re just friends. Boys and girls can be friends, you know,” Paul explains between sips of soda.
My face flushes red as, once again, I put my foot in my mouth. So, I’m very happy when the waitress approaches the table. She puts her hands on her hips.
“Paul, are you going to introduce me to your new friend?” she says.
“Janice, this is Simon. He is a new student at our school. He moved to Rockville over the summer from Columbia.”
