I really love how people in the cafeteria believe I have a boyfriend named Erik. Or…not a boyfriend, but…they definitely think I have someone named Erik. It isn’t just Dennis anymore. At least Brandon believes it, too. I briefly (very briefly) considered telling him, “Look, Brandon—Erik’s not real—but don’t tell Dennis,” but I realized how much more fun I would have if I didn’t…so I didn’t.
I can’t remember word for word, but the conversation basically went something like this:
ME: *singing* I’m jist a girl who cain’t say no….
TINNY: No, Ginny, stop! You’re going to get it stuck in my head again!
ME: *evil grin* That’s the idea….
BRANDON: Well, you look happy.
ME: I am happy.
BRANDON: Okay, I’ve got to hear this. What’s his name?
BRANDON: Does Erik make you sing?
ME: Oh, you bet. *meaningful glance at Tinny*
BRANDON: I’ve got a question. …If this guy makes you so happy, and he even makes you sing, why are you not with him? What’s holding you back?
ME: It’s complicated. …It’s really, really complicated. *meaningful glance at Tinny*
TINNY: She’s got two dates this weekend.
BRANDON: With Erik?
ME: One of them.
BRANDON: So who’s the other guy?
ME: *remembering the week before when everyone somehow took the phrase “Erik, also known as Gerry” to mean two guys* Gerry.
BRANDON: And what’s his story?
ME: Okay, I’ve got a confession to make. Erik and Gerry…*dramatic pause*…are actually the same person.
TINNY: She still has two dates this weekend.
BRANDON: So who is the other guy? Why is he even in the picture at all?
ME: That’s a good question. A good question. I’m not sure I understand it, myself.
BRANDON: You just want to keep your options open.
ME: Exactly! …Exactly; see, you understand!
BRANDON: Oh, it’s not difficult to figure out. One of them’s a bad boy; the other one’s not. Is Erik a bad boy, Ginny?
ME: Oh-h-h, yeah….
BRANDON: Yeah. He’s hot, isn’t he?
BRANDON: Damn. *looks at Tinny* She doesn’t feel strongly about him at all, does she?
BRANDON: Is it like an obsession with you?
ME: An obsession, yes. Definitely an obsession.
BRANDON: Erik ties you up, doesn’t he? *looks at Tinny* I’ll bet he ties her up.
ME: *remembering the book* Well…uh….
TINNY: *also remembering the book* Well, actually….
BRANDON: I knew it. Do you like to be tied up?
ME: Well, that all depends….
BRANDON: I wouldn’t like to be tied up.
TINNY: Me, neither.
BRANDON: Yeah, I could see you tying someone up.
ME: Yeah, like Dennis.
EVERYONE: *laughs hysterically*
BRANDON: So do these two guys know about each other?
ME: Oh, I’d have to say they are each very aware of the other’s existence, yes.
BRANDON: Does that get tricky?
ME: Yeah, like…you gotta worry about them hating each other…running into each other…killing each other….
TINNY: *laughs* …Killing each other…. *shakes head concernedly* I worry about you, Ginny.
…And so forth and so on. I’ve decided to carry it on. This is too much fun.
I went to Cort’s house today, and she sent me to look for something in her room. I assumed the thing was in the trunk; I assumed Cort assumed that, too, but was too afraid to brave the clutter to look for it. (Everything is always in Cort’s trunk, I swear. While at my house, “lost” means “stolen by Psychobrat”, at Cort’s house, it means “in the trunk”.) So after a cursory glance around the room, I had to face the Trunk of Clutter. (I myself have a Cardboard Box of Clutter.)
I’ve got my head in the closet, and I’m digging through that trunk, when I sense that feeling that someone is right next to you. Glancing up at the door, my eyes wandered past the inside of the closet, and before seeing Cort in the doorway, I honestly, for one split second, thought I registered the image of a little blonde boy’s face peering at me from a bright white light in the closet. I quickly looked back and saw that there was nothing there—not even anything, which I expected, that looked like it could have been what I’d thought was the face in that brief instant, just…darkness—and remembered that Cort was supposed to have a little boy ghost in her closet.
Oddly, I did not feel frightened by the idea at all, even though normally, having a face in that close proximity to you and just staring at you would be very creepy…it wasn’t. I didn’t think, ‘OHMYGODTHEGHOST!’ and jump out of the closet immediately; I thought, “Aww…the ghost,” and stuck my head back in to continue rummaging through the trunk. It was a feeling of complete peace.