E. Lockhart - The Boyfriend List

“Like how Mr. Wallace will never be my husband,” I joked. “I’m pining away for him, but he’s such a Marxist, he’ll never marry me.”

“Roo.”

“All I want is to be Mrs. Wallace and have little South African-accent babies—”

“Roo!”

“… and look at him in his Speedo swim trunks every morning before I go off to work, while he stays home with the kids. But he’ll never go for it.”

“He’s already married.”

“Oh, yes. That’s another problem. My love is unrequited. Must you add to my misery?”

“Roo, seriously—”

“Mr. Wallace doesn’t love me. I need some more ice cream.”

“—what is the deal with you and Finn?”

Now, the intelligent girl would not have told. The intelligent girl would have said, “Nothing, I swear on my life,” and started talking to Finn like a normal person.

But me, no.

I decided to spill my guts about this minor weirdness from second grade that clearly no one remembered except me and him. I told Kim the whole story. How we had fun looking at the wildlife book, how Katarina and Ariel teased us, how he’d save swings for me and had still given me that sweet, shrimpy look as recently as last semester.

Kim was my best friend. I wanted her to understand why I had been so weird with Finn. I figured I could tell her everything.

But now, I wish I hadn’t.

1 The refectory is Tate Prep’s pompous way of saying lunchroom. Or rather, food building. The school has like eight different buildings, all around a big lawn (the quad). It’s pretty posh.2 Muffin: nice, pleasing, but ordinary. A perfectly fine baked good—but nothing to get too excited about. Not as festive as cake. Not as glamorous as a croissant. Not as scrumptious as a cookie.3 The B&O Espresso is a coffee bar. It’s like Starbucks, but with fancy cake and old Indian-print cloths on the tables. It’s walking distance from the neighborhood full of big beautiful houses where Kim lives. You can sit there as long as you want, doing homework or whatever. We go there a lot when we’re not at Cricket’s—except that everyone else goes there more than me, because Kim and Cricket and Nora can walk there or ride a bike, but I have to take the bus and transfer twice.4 Neither Nora nor I got asked to Spring Fling freshman year—Cricket went with Tommy Parrish and Kim went with an older guy named Steve Buchannon—and then later we found out there were perfectly decent boys who didn’t go either. We made this rule to safeguard against future such debacles.

3. Hutch (but I’d rather not think about it.)

Doctor Z didn’t say anything while I told the story about Finn. She just nodded, and looked at me.

At home, my dad is always asking me questions about stuff, wanting to know the details of all my friends and their lives. And my mom is always interrupting anything I’m talking about to tell me stories about when she was young, and how she felt just like I do—only worse. It was weird to talk and have someone listen quietly for half an hour. When I was finished, Doctor Z looked up at the clock and said it was almost time to go, anyway. “Come back Thursday,” she added, “and we’ll do number three.”

Number three on the list is Hutch.

I almost didn’t put him on at all. I’d rather forget the whole thing. Not that anything drastically bad happened. It’s just that Hutch has become a leper at Tate, 1and though I’m sure I’d be a better person if I was comfortable talking to all kinds of people, and if I treated everyone equally—I’m not, and I don’t. It’s sad that he’s a leper. He eats alone. He sits in the back corner of the classrooms. I’m sure he suffers unspeakable indignities in the locker rooms. And I do feel bad when people sneer at him. But he also creeps me out, like he’s gone into this zone of his own Hutch weirdness and he’s thinking his private heavy-metal thoughts and absolutely choosing not to wash his scraggly heavy-metal hair 2or brush his grayed-out heavy-metal teeth. He says bizarre things if you ever talk to him—as if he’s making in-jokes about stuff that only he could possibly understand.

Like this: Nora sat next to him in Brit Lit. She came in one day wearing a black hoodie. She’s going through an all-black phase. Hutch went, “Nora Van Deusen. Back in black! I hit the sack.”

“What?”

“Back in black! I hit the sack.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” Hutch shook his head like Nora was the town idiot.

“Did you say, hit the sack?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, get in bed, hit the sack?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hutch muttered. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“It better not be what you meant,” said Nora.

“Whatever,” he said. “I’m just joking with you.”

“It’s not a joke if nobody gets it,” Nora snapped, opening her notebook. 3

Stuff like that. He’d say things that sounded creepy, but you couldn’t figure out what he meant, so if you got mad, you seemed like an idiot. He’d appear to be quoting something, or referring to something—but he’d also know that you’d have no idea what it was—so why was he even talking if he was intentionally not communicating? He was basically talking to himself. 4

In fourth grade, Hutch was a laughing, popular boy. I didn’t know what happened, exactly, that made him change. I couldn’t remember when he switched from cool guy to leper, but in fourth he was cool and he put a huge bag of gummy bears in my mail cubby with a note. I remember feeling happy that someone so confident and golden would notice me. The note didn’t say much. Actually, all it said was “From J.H. (John Hutchinson),” and for a second I worried that he put them in the wrong cubby and they were really meant for Ariel Oliveri—who had, has and probably always will have the mail cubby next to mine. When I looked up, though, Hutch was grinning at me across the hall, so I knew they were for me. I felt weird, because we hadn’t spoken to each other very much, but I spilled some bears into my pocket and ate them very slowly over the course of the day, thinking to myself, Hutch likes me, I got a present from a boy, Hutch likes me, he gave me candy. I said it over and over and over in my mind.

The rest of the bears I took home and hid under my pillow. They lasted a week. I’d eat them at night and think about how I sort of had a boyfriend, and how my dad would kill me if he knew I was eating candy after brushing my teeth.

But although Hutch and I did sit by each other one day at a school assembly, and although I sent him a valentine with two extra candy hearts taped onto it on Valentine’s Day, and although we smiled at each other a bunch for several weeks in a row, we were basically too young to do anything more.

Then one day, I noticed Ariel taking a big bag of gummy bears out of her mail cubby.

“Are those mine?” I asked her.

“No. See?” She showed me a card attached to the bag. It had her name on it. Hutch was smiling from the other side of the hall.

“So he was breaking up with you?” asked Doctor Z. It was two days later, our third appointment.

“I guess.”

“It was hard to tell?”

“I think he was replacing me.”

“Oh. Were you angry?”

“No. Why do you say angry?”

“I thought you might be, from the way you described Hutch being a leper with gray heavy-metal teeth.”

“I was just playing around with my vocabulary. I’m not angry.”

“I don’t mean to put words in your mouth.”

“I think I felt relieved. Like it was nice that he liked me, but I didn’t know how I was supposed to act, or talk to him, so it made me nervous whenever I was at school. When he started liking Ariel, then I didn’t have to angst about it anymore.”