Paula Bomer - Inside Madeleine

Why are you so nice to me? Maddy asked.

Because I like you.

I’m the kind of girl your mother tells you to stay away from, she said, sitting up and putting on a light blue tank top.

Who listens to their mothers, said Mark, grabbing her playfully, while he tried to pull down her top. She pushed his hand away.

I know people at school make fun of you.

Jesus, Maddy. You think I care?

Well, I’d just hate to see you regret acting this way with me.

I’m not acting, Maddy. I like you a lot. You’re special.

You don’t even know how special I am, she said, grinning.

Well, I think I know but I’m sure there are things I don’t know. And I want to know everything about you. Anyway, I know people say shit to you about hanging out with me.

I don’t listen to anybody.

You do. All your freak loser friends.

Fuck you, I do not.

Then why don’t you kiss me in the hallway at school?

I don’t know, she said, turning her head to face out the foggy window.

You don’t let me touch you in public.

I will if you want.

I do. I want that.

Mark’s face was eager and he tried turning her head away from the window.

Stop staring out the window. You can’t see out it. You’re just avoiding me.

Maddy turned to face him.

You just like fucking me.

I like fucking you and I like you. You’re not fucking anyone else anymore, either.

How do you know, she said icily, her teeth closed against each other.

I would know if you were fucking someone else. We talk or see each other constantly.

Well maybe we should change that.

I don’t want to change that. I like always knowing what you’re doing.

Maybe it’s making you cocky.

Maddy, I’m not trying to be cocky.

You don’t own me.

I know I don’t own you. But you are my girlfriend.

I don’t know if I feel comfortable with that, she said, sliding into the front seat, let’s go. Take me home.

Well, it’s the truth, Maddy, you are my girlfriend, Mark said. He jumped into the driver’s seat and started the car, saying, when people talk all the time and fuck all the time and like each other a lot, they’re boyfriend and girlfriend.

You’re so sure of yourself, she said sarcastically and she turned the radio on and turned the volume up loud.

I’m not so sure of myself, he said, almost screaming so he could be heard over the music, I just know we’re a couple. That’s all.

8

Mark left town to go to a cousin’s wedding. Madeleine called up Carrie and asked her if she wanted to go ice skating. She said, let’s go to Eric’s party instead. Maddy said, I’ll go to his party. But let’s skate first just for the fuck of it. She said, I’ll pick you up … wait, don’t you got some boyfriend? Maddy said, yeah, so what, let’s go out?

Carrie picked her up in her father’s car. They sat in the parking lot and drank from a bright green bottle of peppermint schnapps which Carrie had stolen from her dad and smoked a pin joint. Carrie and Maddy didn’t really go to the rink anymore. Carrie went to parties and Maddy was always with Mark. Carrie’s hair was dyed brassy orange and pressed super straight with an iron. She said, you’re serious with this boyfriend, huh? Maddy said yeah, kind of. She said, it’s some nerd, right, and Maddy said, yeah. She started laughing. She said, how can you fuck some nerd and Maddy told her to shut up.

The schnapps hit Maddy’s head like green fire. She was drunk, huge, bigger than the world. She was sticking her tits out, she was high, feeling good. They skated around, the lights were real bright. Oz was still working there. The Zamboni pulled out on the ice and Carrie and Maddy started heading to the bathroom to smoke another pinner. Then Oz walked up with some new rink guard and said, hey you guys want to smoke a joint with us? They said, sure.

They all went into the rink guard station. A stack of Hustlers sat on the table. The new rink guard, Jimmy, was younger than Oz, closer to Maddy and Carrie’s age. He went to the high school. He had a peach fuzz face and a squeaky nervous laugh. He kept sticking a finger in his ear and then sniffing his finger. He had a southern accent. He kept saying, in Kentucky, there’s the best weed and it’s so much cheaper and in Kentucky this or that. He spit on the floor.

They went back out to the rink, stoned. Maddy’s mouth was swollen dry and everything moved slowly. Carrie said, that new guy’s cute, right? Yeah, I guess, Maddy said, but he talks too much about Kentucky. Carrie said, should we ask them to go out after the rink closes? Maddy said, sure, why not.

The boys said, yeah, we’ll go. They said, yeah we know Eric, we were gonna go anyway.

Eric’s father didn’t live with him and his mother was a cocktail waitress who wasn’t coming home until four in the morning. Maddy’d blown him and most of his friends and she hadn’t really seen them in a long time except quickly in the hallways at school. She still looked at all the guys and they still looked at her, but she just stopped talking to them. She stopped walking up to them. They’d just glance at each other in the hallway. Occasionally somebody’d yell something like, suck my dick, Maddy. Or, where’ve you been, Mad girl, with that dickless fag again? She never cared much what they said, but she still cared about the way they looked at her. She still cared about that.

Well, look who’s here, hey guys, check it out, Madeleine’s here, Eric said, opening the door for them. Carrie said, Hi Eric, aren’t you gonna say anything to me? No, he said, I see your face all the time.

The music was loud. There was a keg in the kitchen. The lights were low and a blue light hung in an empty back room. There were a few other girls there from the high school and about fifteen guys. Oz and Jimmy came in. Carrie pulled Maddy close and whispered, I think I’m going to go for that guy Jimmy, what do you think? Maddy said sure, go for it.

There was still some schnapps left. Maddy drank it real fast, chased it with beer. Her head spun and reeled and she gritted her teeth to balance herself. Carrie and Maddy sat on the couch next to each other. Carrie lit another joint and Oz and Jimmy came over and they smoked. Carrie said, so Jimmy, you got a girlfriend? He said, no. She said, you’re real cute. He started glancing around nervously. He was standing in front of the couch and he sat down on the armrest, next to her, his legs spread wide, his hands resting on his knees.

He said, in Kentucky, I had a girlfriend. Carrie said, yeah, what was her name? He said, Ashley. She said, that’s a pretty name — do you miss her? He said, yeah, but not so much as I did. Do you write her? Yeah, he said, I used to write her a lot. Do you call her? Yeah, not too much. What’d she look like? Carrie asked. I got a picture of her he said, standing up.

Jimmy reached into his back pocket, standing up in front of Carrie, his jeans super tight against his crotch. He pulled out his wallet and took out a photo and sat down again on the armrest. He gave the photo to Carrie. She said, oh, she’s pretty and passed the photo to Maddy. Isn’t she pretty, Maddy?

It was a yearbook photo, with a sky blue background. The girl had dyed blond hair that was long and curly. She wore a tight yellow sweater — her bra all stiff and pointy underneath it. Her teeth were crooked. Maddy turned the photo over and on the back it said, Jimmy, I will love you forever, love, Ashley. Her handwriting was big and swirly, barely fitting on the back of the photo.

Jimmy snatched the photo back, stood up again and put it back in his wallet. Carrie, said again, she’s real pretty, Jimmy. You must miss her. She had a smirk on her face. Maddy felt her face get hot. Carrie said, did she treat you nicely, Jimmy? Did she treat you right? Yeah, he said, looking at her stiffly. You wanna marry her, don’t you? He said, yeah. Did she touch you here, Jimmy, Carrie said, and slick as butter her hand was on the bulge tightly encased in his jeans, so quickly you barely saw her hand move but she clasped on like it was always there — her palm underneath his balls, her fingers stretching over his cock.