Кэндес Бушнелл - Carrie Diaries

“I’m crazy about Peter, okay?”

“Anyway, it might not count,” says The Mouse. “If you knew him for three hours, you’d kind of know him, wouldn’t you?”

“It would have to be like the zipless fuck in Fear of Flying.”

“Please, do not say ‘fuck.’ I hate that word. It’s ‘making love,’” Maggie says.

“What’s the difference between ‘making love’ and ‘fucking’ anyway? I mean, really?” I ask.

“Fucking is just intercourse. Making love is intercourse plus all the other stuff,” The Mouse says.

“I can’t believe you haven’t had sex with Sebastian yet,” Maggie declares.

“Well…”

Maggie turns around to look at The Mouse in disbelief, which causes her to nearly drive off the road. When we recover, Maggie says, “You’re still a virgin,” as if it’s some kind of crime.

“I don’t like to think of myself as a ‘virgin.’ I prefer to think of myself as ‘sexually incomplete.’ You know. Like I haven’t finished the course yet.”

“But why?” Maggie asks. “It’s not even a big deal. You think it’s a big deal until you do it. And then you think, ‘God, why did I wait so long?’”

“Come on, Maggie. Everyone has their own timetable. Maybe Carrie isn’t ready,” The Mouse says.

“All I can say is that if you don’t do it with Sebastian soon, somebody else will,” Maggie intones ominously.

“If that happens, it means Sebastian wasn’t the right guy for her,” The Mouse insists.

“Besides, I think they already have,” I quip. “Done it with Sebastian in the past, anyway. And, hey, I’ve only been seeing the guy for two months.”

“I was only seeing Peter for two days when we did it,” Maggie says. “Of course, our circumstances were special. Peter had been in love with me for years.”

“Maggie. About Peter...” The Mouse begins.

I want to caution her that now is probably not the time to bring up the truth about Peter, but it’s too late.

“I think ‘high school’ and ‘college’ are two separate categories for him. When he goes to Harvard, he’s going to leave Castlebury behind. He has to. Otherwise, he won’t succeed.”

“Why not?” Maggie challenges.

“Mags,” I say, giving The Mouse a look. “Mouse isn’t talking about you, per se. She only means that he’s going to have to study a lot, and he might not have as much time for a relationship. Right, Mouse?”

“Sure. All of our lives are going to be different. We’re all going to have to change.”

“I, for one, am not going to change,” Maggie says, resolute. “No matter what happens, I’m always going to be me. I think that’s the way people should behave. Decently.”

I agree. “No matter what happens, we should all swear that we’ll always be ourselves at all times.”

“Do we have a choice?” The Mouse asks drily.

“Where are we?” I ask, looking around.

“Good question,” The Mouse mutters. We’re on a rutted asphalt road that appears to be in the middle of nowhere.

On either side are rocky fields, dotted with a few rundown houses. We pass an auto repair shop and a yellow house with a sign that reads SUNSHINE DOLL REPAIR, DOLLS LARGE AND SMALL. Ahead of us, Walt suddenly swerves into a small driveway next to a long, white, industrial-looking building.

The building has a large metal door and small, blacked-out windows; it looks deserted.

“What is this place?” Maggie asks, as we slowly drive past.

The Mouse sits back and folds her arms. “It doesn’t look good, that’s for sure.”

We go a little further, until Maggie finds a place to turn around. “A place you don’t want to know about,” I say aloud, echoing Sebastian’s warning.

“What?” Maggie asks.

“Nothing,” I say quickly, as The Mouse and I exchange a look. The Mouse taps Maggie on the shoulder. “I think we should go home. You’re not going to like this.”

“Like what?” Maggie says. “It’s a building. And it’s our duty as friends to find out what Walt is up to.”

“Or not.” The Mouse shrugs.

Maggie ignores her, following the driveway around to the back where we find a lot hidden from the street. It contains several cars, including Walt’s.

A secret back entrance is flanked by neon signs that say things like VIDEOS, TOYS, and — as if that isn’t enough — LIVE SEX.

“I don’t get it.” Maggie glares at the hot purple and blue signs.

“It’s a porn place.”

“Maggie, you really don’t want to be here,” The Mouse warns again.

“Why not?” Maggie asks. “Do you think I can’t handle it?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I can’t handle it,” I say in sympathy. “And it’s not even my ex-boyfriend in there.”

“I don’t care.” Maggie parks the car next to a Dumpster, grabs a pack of cigarettes, and gets out. “If you guys want to come, fine. Otherwise you can stay in the car.”

Now there’s a change. I lean across the seat and call to her from the window. “Mags, you don’t know what’s in there.”

“I’m going to find out.”

“You’re going to confront Walt? What’s he going to think when he finds out you’ve spied on him?”

Maggie walks away. The Mouse and I look at each other, get out of the car, and follow her.

“Come on, Magwitch. It’s bad form, following someone around like this. Especially if he’s trying to keep it a secret. Let’s go.”

“No!”

“Okay,” I say, backing off. I point to the Dumpster. “We’ll hide behind there. We’ll wait a few minutes and if nothing happens, we’ll go home.”

Maggie takes another look at the entrance. Her eyes narrow. “Fine.”

We skittle behind the Dumpster. It’s freezing now, and I wrap my arms around my chest, jumping up and down to keep warm.

“Will you stop that?” Maggie hisses. “Someone’s coming.” I dive into a bush next to the Dumpster, scramble around for a bit, and sit back on my heels.

A souped-up Mustang screeches into the lot. Black Sabbath blares from the car as the door opens and the driver gets out. He’s a large muscular guy, and when he glances around surreptitiously, I recognize Randy Sandler, who was two years ahead of us and the quarterback on the football team.

“Ohmigod. Randy Sandler just went in.”

“Randy Sandler?” The Mouse asks. She and Maggie crawl over to join me.

“This is my fault,” Maggie says. “If I hadn’t stopped seeing Walt, he wouldn’t need to come here for sex. He must be suffering from a terrible case of blue balls.”

“Blue balls is a myth,” I whisper loudly. “It’s one of those lies men tell women to get them to have sex.”

“I don’t believe it. Poor Walt,” Maggie groans.

“Shhhh,” The Mouse commands as the door swings open.

Randy Sandler appears again, but this time he’s not alone. Walt comes out behind him, blinking in the light. He and Randy exchange a few words and laugh, then they both get into Randy’s car. The engine roars to life, but before they pull away, Randy leans over and kisses Walt on the mouth. After a minute or so, they separate; then Walt pulls down the vanity mirror and smoothes his hair.

For a moment, there’s silence, save for the thumping of the muffler. Then the car pulls away as we squat, motionless, listening to the sound of the engine until it fades into a low peep.

“Well.” Maggie stands up and brushes herself off. “That’s that, I guess.”

“Hey,” The Mouse says gently. “You know what? It’s all for the best. You’re with Peter, and now Walt is with Randy.”

“It’s like A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” I add hopefully, “where everyone ends up with the person they’re supposed to be with.”

“Uh-huh,” Maggie says blankly as she heads for the car.

“And you have to admit, Randy Sandler is pretty good-looking. He was one of the best-looking guys on the football team.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Think about how many girls would be jealous if they knew that Randy was...”

“Gay?” Maggie suddenly screams. “That Randy and Walt are gay? And they’re lying to everyone about it?” She yanks open the car door. “It’s great. Just great. Thinking for two years that some guy is in love with you and then finding out that he doesn’t even like girls? And all the time you were with him he’s been thinking about” — she pauses, takes a breath, and shrieks — “some other guy!”

“Maggie, take it easy,” The Mouse says.

“I will not take it easy. Why should I?” Maggie starts the engine, then shuts it off and buries her face in her hands. “We were going to move to Vermont. We were going to have an antique store. And a farm stand. And I believed him. And all that time he was lying.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t,” The Mouse says. “He probably had no idea. Then when you guys broke up...”

“He loved you, Mags. He really loved you. Everyone knows that,” I say.

“And now everyone is going to know how stupid I was. Do you have any idea how utterly dumb I feel right now? I mean, could I be any dumber?”

“Maggie.” I shake her arm a little. “How were you supposed to know? I mean, a person’s sexuality is…kind of their own business, right?”

“Not when they hurt other people.”

“Walt would never hurt you on purpose,” I say, trying to reason with her. “And besides, Mag. This is about Walt. It’s not really about you.”

Oops. There’s an expression of fury I’ve never seen on Maggie’s face before. “Oh yeah?” she snarls. “Then why don’t you trying being me for a change?” And she bursts into tears.

“These are supposed to be the best days of our lives,” I say mournfully.

“Oh, Carrie.” George stretches his lips into a smile. “Where do you get these overly sentimental ideas? If you took a survey, you’d find half the adult population hated their high school years and would never want to go back.”