Chapter 13

Marilyn and I sat in the library after school and thumbed through some books. I don't know why we were expected to look things up in books when the net was so much faster. Sure some of the information was garbage, but that was half the fun of research. I didn't think the books were much better.

John Wayne finally showed up. He dumped his books on the table making the girl at the next table jump and swear under her breath. He shrugged an apology and she went back to reading about Arch-Duke Ferdinand while he dropped into a chair.

"Did you get my email?" he asked.

"Would that be the one about bigger penises or the other one?" Marilyn said.

"Nah," he said, and waved his hand at Marilyn, "The one about Texas."

I pulled out my tablet and checked. Sure enough there was another email from John Wayne.

I'll believe that corporations are people as soon as Texas executes one.

Well at least this one was PG.

"A bumper sticker?" Marilyn said, "All you have is a bumper sticker?"

"Cool, isn't it?"

I think this could work. I wrote. JW could find a bunch of snappy sayings about corporations and persons.

"Sure thing," John Wayne said. He jumped up. It looked for a second like he was going to say something else, but he just left.

"Creepy," Marilyn said. "It was like he didn't see anything wrong with sending you that picture."

Be glad you didn't see it.

"I saw your face," Marilyn said.

I would have thought he would have been a little embarrassed.

"Right, so if JW is collecting bumper stickers, what are we doing?"

If you want to fill out more of the history of corporations; landmark decisions and the like; I'll work on present day reality. The pros and cons. That kind of thing.

"Sounds great, Tuni." Marilyn stopped for a long moment. "Do you want to grab a coffee somewhere?"

Sure, I wrote. Let's get out of here.

We went and collected our winter gear and walked out into the cold, damp, not-quite-snow that pretended to be weather in Punkie's Hounds Corners. There was a coffee shop just down the street from the school that a lot of the students hung out in. They played loud music and everyone was shouting and laughing at the same time. The barristas were all ex-cheerleaders who hadn't escaped town yet.

We walked the other way. There was a shop that the old-timers sat in for hours at a time. It wasn't unusual to see tractors instead of cars in the parking lot. They made horrible black coffee and sold stale donuts. None of the students would be caught dead in there. It was perfect.

"Here you go, darlings," the woman behind the counter said. "You might want to put a little extra sugar in the coffee. It's mighty strong today."

We sat in a corner booth and cupped our hands around the chipped mugs. I put milk and sugar in my coffee and took a sip. Somehow the harshness and sweetness gelled into the perfect drink. I sighed and leaned back.

"Good?" Marilyn smiled at me over nir cup. With the winter coat and hat on Marilyn looked more like a boy, at least until ne pulled nir toque off and shook out nir hair. Damn, I wished my hair was just half that nice. It was midnight black and fell in waves off nir head. That hair should be in a shampoo commercial. They could use my hair for the before picture - limp, stringy and mouse colored. I kept it cut short because it was impossible to do anything interesting with it.

Marilyn reached over and tapped my forehead.

"Earth to Tuni," ne said. "Do you like the coffee?"

I nodded vigorously and slurped down some more. I hid behind my cup until my face stopped burning.

"So, what do you do when you're not being a genius?" Marilyn asked.

I shrugged and pulled out my tablet. Not much. That looked too sparse. This was supposed to be a conversation. How about you?

"I played guitar in the Jazz Band in my old school." Marilyn played a little air guitar and laughed.

Do you miss it?

"I still play a little at home, but it isn't the same."

I meant your old school.

Marilyn looked down into nir coffee cup for a long time.

"Refill, sweethearts?" The woman from behind the counter waved a pot at us, then poured more deep black liquid into our cups before we could answer.

"My old school was my old life," Marilyn said finally. "I had a girl friend who didn't understand why I never tried anything. My oldest friend, I've known him since first grade, walked out on me when I tried to talk about what was going on inside me. He never talked to me again. It was my parents' idea to move to a new school and try to be a completely new person. It hasn't been working out so well." Ne blew on the cup of coffee and took a cautious sip. Those amazing blue eyes looked at me and I could see the tears dangling on the edge of falling.

I tried to say something, but of course nothing came out. I scribbled on my tablet, but even I couldn't read what I wrote. So I stopped, took a deep breath and put my hand on Marilyn's. I wrote carefully in big letters.

I'm glad you're here.

Which wasn't what I wanted to write, but what I wanted to write scared me and I was sure it would scare Marilyn. I had no idea what a romance with nem would look like, but my heart pounded anyway. It was telling me to drop the L-word. My brain was chicken, and since my brain did the writing ....

I think ne guessed something because ne gave me a long sad look before going back to the coffee.

Sometimes this life thing just sucks.