Бекки Алберталли - Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda

Abby and I sit like that for so long my arm starts to prickle. But it isn’t until we’re finally about to head back to the auditorium that I realize two people have been watching us.

The first is Cal.

The second is Martin, and he looks pretty goddamn furious.

“Spier. We need to talk.” Martin pulls me into a stairwell.

“Um, now? Because Ms. Albright wants us to—”

“Yeah, Ms. Albright can fucking wait a second.”

“Okay. What’s up?” I lean against the railing and look up at him. The stairwell is dark, but my eyes are pretty well-adjusted, and I can see the tension in Martin’s jaw. He stops and waits until the others are too far down the hall to overhear.

“So, I guess you think this is all hilarious,” he says under his breath.

“What?”

He doesn’t elaborate.

“I have no freaking clue what you’re talking about,” I say finally.

“Right, of course not.” Martin crosses his arms in front of his chest and tugs on his elbow, and he just radiates the stink-eye.

“Marty, seriously. I don’t know why you’re upset. If you want to fill me in, great. Otherwise, I don’t know what to tell you.”

He exhales loudly and leans into the railing. “You’re trying to humiliate me. And believe me, I get it. I get that you weren’t a hundred percent on board with our arrangement—”

“Our arrangement? You mean you blackmailing me? Yeah, I’m not on board with being blackmailed, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“You think I’m fucking blackmailing you?”

“What the hell else would you call it?” I say. But it’s funny—I’m not really pissed off at him. A little bewildered at the moment, but not angry.

“Look. It’s over. The Abby thing is done, okay? So you can forget about the whole goddamn thing.”

I pause. “Did something happen with Abby?”

“Yes, something fucking happened with Abby. She fucking rejected me.”

“What? When?”

Martin stands abruptly, his face flushed. “Roughly five minutes before she draped herself all over you,” he says.

“ What? Yeah, that’s not what—”

“You know what? Save it, Spier. Actually, you know what you can do? You can tell Ms. Albright I’ll see her in fucking January.”

“You’re leaving?” I ask.

I seriously don’t know what the hell is happening. He flips me the bird as he walks away. He doesn’t even turn around to look at me.

“Martin, are you—”

“Merry goddamned Christmas, Simon,” he says. “Hope you’re happy.”

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 20 at 1:45 PM

SUBJECT: Oh baby

Jacques,

You’re not going to believe this.

I got home from school yesterday, and both of my parents were there. I know that doesn’t sound crazy, but you have to realize that my mom almost never leaves work early, and my dad has literally never driven up here with no advance notice before. And he was just up here two weeks ago. They were sitting on the couch in the living room, and they had been laughing about something, but they stopped abruptly when I walked in.

I felt so queasy, Jacques. I was positive my mom had told my dad I was gay, which would just be—I don’t know. Anyway, there was this excruciating half hour of small talk, and then my mom finally stood up and said she was going to leave my dad and me alone for a minute. And then she went into her bedroom. The whole thing was just so weird.

Anyway, my dad seemed really nervous, and I was really nervous. We were talking, and I forgot what he said, but I realized my mom hadn’t told him anything. And suddenly I wanted him to know. I felt like it had to be that very second. So, I was listening to him talk and waiting for an opportunity to tell him—but he just kept talking and talking, and it was strange and tangential and boring.

Then, all of a sudden, pretty much out of nowhere, he tells me that my stepmother is pregnant. She’s due in June.

I was really, really not expecting that. I’ve been an only child my whole life.

So, yeah. If anyone can find the humor in this, it’s you. Please. Or just distract me. You’re good at that, too.

Love,

Blue

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 20 at 6:16 PM

SUBJECT: Re: Oh baby

Blue,

Wow. I’m just—wow. Congratulations? I don’t know. I can’t tell a hundred percent how you feel about it, but it seems like you’re not thrilled. I guess I wouldn’t be. Especially if I was used to being an only child. And then there’s the dad having sex factor, which is always horrifying (and he bought YOU a book by freaking Casanova?). Ugh.

Also, I’m sorry you got all prepared again to come out, and didn’t get a chance to do it. That really sucks.

I’m trying to find the humor here for you. Poop? Poop is funny, right? I guess there will be a lot of it. I don’t know why it doesn’t seem funny to me right now. POOP!!!!! I mean, I’m trying.

That’s so weird the way your parents told you, like they were both in on it. I guess he wanted to give your mom a heads-up first or something? And then he was nervous to tell you. It’s like he’s our age telling his parents he knocked someone up. Which is totally the straight person equivalent of coming out.

As a side note, don’t you think everyone should have to come out? Why is straight the default? Everyone should have to declare one way or another, and it should be this big awkward thing whether you’re straight, gay, bi, or whatever. I’m just saying.

Anyway, I don’t know if any of this is helping. I guess I’m a little off my game (kind of a weird day for me, too). But just know I’m sorry this is hitting you out of nowhere. And I’m thinking about you.

Love,

Jacques

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com

TO: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 21 at 9:37 AM

SUBJECT: POOP

Jacques,

First of all, your email helped a lot. I don’t know—something about poop and Casanova and the phrase “knocked up” in reference to my dad. It’s all such a train wreck. I think I do see the humor. I guess it’s not necessarily a bad thing to have a little fetus sibling. I’m pretty curious to find out if it’s a boy or a girl. Anyway, I feel a lot better now that I’ve gotten some sleep. And I think just talking it over with you makes everything better.

Sorry you had a weird day, too. Want to talk about it?

It is definitely annoying that straight (and white, for that matter) is the default, and that the only people who have to think about their identity are the ones who don’t fit that mold. Straight people really should have to come out, and the more awkward it is, the better. Awkwardness should be a requirement. I guess this is sort of our version of the Homosexual Agenda?

Love,

Blue

P.S. By the way, guess what I’m eating at this very moment.

FROM: hourtohour.notetonote@gmail.com

TO: bluegreen118@gmail.com

DATE: Dec 21 at 10:11 AM

SUBJECT: Re: POOP

Blue,

I hope for your sake that Little Fetus is a boy, because sisters are a freaking handful. I’m glad you’re feeling a little better about things. I don’t know how I did it, but I’m glad I was able to help somehow.

Eh, don’t worry about my weird day. Someone got angry at me, and it’s kind of hard to explain, but it’s a stupid misunderstanding. Whatever.

The Homosexual Agenda? I don’t know. I think it’s more like the Homo Sapiens Agenda. That’s really the point, right?

Love,

Jacques

P.S. You have me curious. A banana? Hot dog? Cucumber? ☺

FROM: bluegreen118@gmail.com