Watching Movies With Boys

“Omigod! Look—there! On that windblown bluff, he stands!” Tracy MacIntyre shrieked dramatically, thrusting one pale finger out like she was in some soap opera, with her other arm flung over her eyes.

But, in reality? She was pointing at William Keys. Not on a bluff. Not windblown. Just leaning against the chainlink fence, chatting it up with his best bud, John Addis. Probably about Back to the Future or Alien, or some other movie.

“He stands waiting! The man of your dreams!” Tracy declared.

Roxanne didn’t even look up from her Tiger Beat magazine. She raised an eyebrow, mimicking Tracy’s swoon. “Isn’t John your dream guy? Isn’t he also standing upon that sacred bluff?”

Tracy huffed but kept the performance going. “The one who will love you forever and ever and ever, Roxanne!” She leapt off the top row of the metal bleachers with a cheerleader’s finesse and grabbed Roxy’s shoulders. “You run to him, girl! Run, Roxy, run! Straight into those blazer-covered arms!”

April, their forever voice of reason and proud honour roll nerd, slid in behind Tracy and clamped her hands on her shoulders. She had a laugh sparkling in her eyes. “No, no—you run to John! Run, Trace, run! Into your future husband’s Datsun!”

“Oh, puh-lease,” Tracy moaned, rolling her eyes. She gave Roxy a playful shake. “Your bodies, your lips—they’re getting closer and closer. Until boom! You kiss! Sparks!”

“Nice try,” Roxy smirked. “Haven’t you and John already kissed?”

“Duh. Totally. He even shoved his tongue in my mouth,” Tracy bragged like she was flashing a backstage pass to Duran Duran, but she sounded just like some sort of common whore.

April groaned. “Guys, come on. We need to study for third period. That English test is, like, forty per cent of our grade.”

“I don’t think I need to study, April,” Tracy said, flipping her dark red hair like a shampoo commercial.

April’s voice went sharp. “And why the heck not?”

“Because after graduation, John and I are jetting off to England!”

“I thought you were from Ireland?” Roxanne asked, flipping a page in her magazine.

Tracy shrugged with pride, her friends knew she wanted to visit her home after graduation, maybe live in Ireland with her cousins, or grandparents, but John had seemed to change her after graduation plans. “Aye, I am. But John wants to see Big Ben and Buckingham Palace. So like… okay!”

“Do you always do whatever Johnny-poo wants?” Roxanne teased.

“His name is John!” Tracy snapped—but not seriously. “Not Johnny-poo!”

That’s when the boys strolled up. “Well, well, William, look what we have here—a flock of lovely birds,” John announced, totally channelling his inner Tom Cruise.

Tracy whipped around and squealed, “John!” She launched herself at him like she was the star of a Molly Ringwald movie.

Roxanne’s heart did this pathetic, fluttery flip as she watched William smile lazily. He looked so cool. William in his C.H.U.D shirt and blazer, John rocking a Top Gun tee and checkered Vans.

“What’s her deal?” John asked, nodding toward Roxy.

“I’m…uh…I’m just stressing about the English test,” Roxanne lied, fast. Total cover-up. The real reason? She was seconds from melting into a puddle of jelly over William. “Studying’s been giving me, like, the hugest headache.”

John offered Tracy his arm like some teenage prince. “Wanna ditch these birds and go gaze upon the glorious glossy pages of the newest issue of Fango?”

“Before you and your Romeo hit the halls—hold it!” April called after them.

But Roxanne was still staring at William. He caught her gaze and—oh my god—he smiled. He mouthed hello. Her knees practically buckled. Once the couple and William disappeared down the hallway, Roxanne squealed and grabbed April’s arm. “He noticed me! He noticed me, April!”

“He didn’t even say hi,” April deadpanned. “You know what you should do? Ask Tracy to put in a good word with John. Maybe John could talk to William?”

“Are you crazy? What if John tells William I’m some total loser?” Roxanne whispered in panic.

“Then just talk to William yourself.”

“I can’t! He’s not just some boy, April. He’s, like, the boy!”

April sighed and rolled her eyes. “Tracy’s acting like graduation is just a pit stop before moving to London with John and having his babies. I want more for her. I don’t want her stuck in some English apartment with no diploma and a crying baby while John’s off trying to be a movie star.”

“Tracy’s in love,” Roxanne defended.

April gave a dramatic eye roll. “Yeah, and I’m the fifth Go-Go.”

Still, Roxanne looked dreamy, lost in his blue eyes that gleamed with a special, almost wistful pleasure. William was from a totally different planet. Her, April, and Tracy weren’t exactly the queen bees of Pacific Heights High School, but they were known.

They could totally land prom dates, no sweat. Totally be crowned Homecoming Queen. But William felt like a dream pulled straight from a John Hughes script.

“Okay, okay. Let’s study.” April flipped open her battered English lit book. “So, what do you think the author meant by: ‘His words left some ghastly, mutilating wounds that no one else could ever look upon but myself’?”

But Roxanne wasn’t listening. She was staring off again, watching William animatedly talk with his hands—probably describing The Thing or Predator or some other movie he and John and maybe even Tracy had seen.

“He’s really cute.”

“Who? R. Kennedy? Rox, that’s a woman.”

Roxanne sighed. “How did Tracy get John? I mean, yeah, she’s totally gorgeous, but I’m gorgeous too, right?”

“Totally,” April said with a little smile. “But brains are way hotter than boobs.”

April would know. Her dad worked with Aerosmith, and she had the best concert hookups in town, but no guy had ever really noticed her like that. She had giant gold-rimmed glasses, wild blonde curls, and the sharpest mind in school. It was a total crime, no boy appreciated that.

“If I had boobs like Tracy’s, maybe William would notice me.”

“Roxanne!” April gasped.

“I’m just saying! Tracy’s rack is, like, next level. I’ve seen her without a shirt!”

April couldn’t deny that Tracy was gorgeous, mysterious, and possibly unstable. “I’m sure John has too.”

“He’s probably touched them.”

“Probably.”

“I’m gonna die, April! If I don’t marry William Keys, I’m gonna, like, die. Because my chest doesn’t pass inspection? That’s, like, tragic, even for R. Kennedy!”

April couldn’t help but laugh at the divine madness that Roxanne was spewing from her pink frosted lips. “Look at you. You have been studying.”

“I gotta work my brain out! William needs a girlfriend with brains and beauty!” Roxanne giggled.

April gave her a firm look, but she was grinning. “Then keep your mind on books, not boys.”