Frank Downey - Dance of a lifetime

"What’s that mean?"

"It means I’m not much of a person. You’d do better than me."

"I beg to differ. I like to think I choose my friends pretty carefully, you know."

She laughed at that. "You don’t know me. You look at me and see…well, I don’t know whatyou see.

But you don’t see me. Warren, I’m a burnout. I’m stupid. I’ll never be anything. The only things I’m good for are parties and sex. And getting beat up, I suppose. You don’t see that."

"You’re right. I don’t. I know it’s there, but that’s not what I see."

"Well, then you’re not looking close enough."

"No, you’re wrong. I’m looking veryclosely. In fact, I’m looking past the burnout, past the party girl, past the appalling lack of self-esteem, past the bruises. And you know what I see?"

Sophia was almost afraid to ask. "What?"

"I see a beautiful person. Inside and out. I see one of the most breathtakingly beautiful girls I’ve ever had the good fortune to look at. I see a beautiful spirit. I see a very bright girl, funny, quick-witted-hell, you can keep up in a battle of wits with me, and I’m a genius." They both laughed-it was true, he was.

"I see all of those things. Thatis the Sophia Daniels I see. And she’s wonderful. The problem is…that she’s locked up. She’s locked in a cage. And she can’t get out."

They were in front of Sophia’s house. Sophia leaned against the chain-link face and stared off into space.

What had he said? Beautiful person, inside and out? Her? Why did he think this? What did he see? She couldn’t see it. She just couldn’t. He was nuts. Crazy. Deluded.

But, even if he was nuts, Sophia made a decision. She reached into her bookbag, grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and scribbled her phone number on it. "Would you call me tonight, please?"

"Scott’s not gonna be around?"

"No. And I don’t care. I just think I need to talk to…to talk to a friend tonight. Would you do that for me?"

"Of course. Couple of hours OK? I need to study."

Sophia laughed-it felt good. "Of courseyou need to study, Prep Boy. A couple of hours is fine."

The phone calls started slowly. They quickly built up to where Sophia and Warren were spending a couple hours on the phone almost every weeknight. Even if they had worked together, Warren would get some studying done and give Sophia a call. At one point, Sophia realized that she talked to Warren more than she talked to her own boyfriend. She had never seen Scott much during the week-only on weekends-but she was talking to Warren every night, walking home with him three days a week, even occasionally sitting on her front porch and talking. It was strange. Sophia never thought of herself as much of a talker-except with Jessie, her best friend-but she could talk with Warren for hours. Truth to tell, she listened more than she talked. Warren was a first-class conversationalist.

The problem of her disastrous lifestyle and Warren’s "girl in a cage" observation had been left alone. Sophia would occasionally make a joke, which Warren just let go, but they hadn’t had many serious conversations. Just two friends, chatting. Until one Tuesday night in late February.

"So, did you have another Sophia weekend?" asked Warren.

"Actually, no. I stayed in this weekend. I had a little flu or something. Missed a big party."

"Awwwwww. Poor baby."

"This from a man who reads Shakespeare for kicks, right?"

"Actually, I was out all Saturday night. My friends up the street had one of their periodic get-togethers. We have them more often in the summer, because it’s better outside, but we all gathered in the house this time."

"And you got a keg and everyone got sloppy, right?"

"Surrrrre. No, my friends don’t have quitethe same type of parties that yours do."

"No doubt."

"We played some music. Watched a movie. There’s a small group of us that play poker, so we did that. I made my world famous chip dip. Very mellow by your standards."

Sophia laughed. "Actually, it sounds cozy. Different from my usual, but cozy."

"Tuck the sarcasm back in, Wild Woman."

"Actually, I wasn’t being sarcastic. This was at your house?"

"Naah. Up the street. The Kenney’s house, that’s our usual neighborhood hangout. You know Mo Kenney?"

"Mo Kenney. Hmmm. No, I don’t think I know him."

"Her. Maureen Kenney."

"Oh! Yeah, I think I know who she is."

"Her house. That’s the neighborhood hangout. The whole gang was there, friends of the gang, Crash came down from Northwoods-I told you about Crash, he’s my best friend-about 20 of us."

"Crash Kowalski, right? Lives in Northwoods, goes to school with you?"

"That’s the one. We’ve hung out there for years, I’ve known Mo Kenney since we were four. She’s like my sister. Her sister and brother, Tina and Rick, are, too-and her mother is my second mother."

"Oh. Well it does sound nice, for a Prep Boy like you, anyhow." They both laughed. "Me, the one I missed was-what did you call it? Chemically-drenched bacchanalia?"

"You’re catching on."

"That’s what that one was. Scott was furiouswith me."

"For getting sick?"

Sophia didn’t say anything.

"He didn’t believe you, did he?"

Silence.

"He went into a jealousy fit and accused you of seeing someone else, right? Wouldn’t believe you had the flu? Got all pissed off because he wanted you under his thumb and you weren’t around, right?"

Sophia finally spoke up. "Fuck. Do you know everything?"

"No, I don’t. I do know what a contemptible abusive asshole is, however."

"That ismy boyfriend you’re talking about."

"Don’t remind me."

"What is thatsupposed to mean?"

"Why, Soph?"

"Why what?"

"Why him? Why do you stay with him? What is the attraction? He’s abusive. He’s got no respect for you, treats you like dirt. He wants to control you completely. Remember when I talked about the girl in the cage that can’t get out? Well, Scott is the one that locked the fucking door and threw away the key. I don’t get it. Why do you let this happen? Is the sex thatgood?"

"Actually, no. It’s not all that good. It’s pretty shitty. And, you’re right, you don’t get it. You can’tget it."

"Help me out here, then."

"Look, it all fits together. Shitty sex, shitty boyfriend, shitty home life, shitty school life, shitty habits, shitty friends…shitty Sophia. It all fits."

"Shitty friends? I think I’m offended."

Sophia giggled. "Well, maybe one non-shitty friend."

"Actually, you’ve spoken highly of Jessie, and some of your other friends. Are all your friends that bad?"

"I dunno. Maybe not."

"Then what…"

Sophia snapped, "But if I’ve got such wonderful Goddamn friends, than why doesn’t someone get me the fuck outof this? Shit. I’m drowning, here, someone throw me a fucking life jacket!"

Warren listened for a minute to the quiet sobs at the other end of the phone. And then he said, softly, "I am trying. I really am."

Sophia sat up on her bed-as she realized, he wastrying. Maybe other people weren’t-and maybe they were and she just wasn’t seeing straight-but Warren without a doubt was trying. And that she couldsee.

"You’re right. You are."

Warren let out a sigh. "I gotta tell you, Sophia, sometimes it seems like I’m throwing the life jacket out, and you’re throwing the thing right back."