The Marriage of Sticks Read Online Free PDF Page A

tests. Linda Olson, who one night in tenth grade had the kindness to explain and answer a hundred questions about what really happened in bed with a man. It was a turning point because hearing what she said allowed me to relax. Then there was Steve Solomon, who’d been the first person on earth to put his hand on me down there.
    Even seeing classmates I’d never had much contact with filled me with a delightful warmth and nostalgia. At a table in one corner were Terry West and Eric Maxwell, class party boys, dumb and sweet as cows. Both were fat and red-cheeked now. They looked so happy to be together again. Had they kept up over the years? Had their lives been good?
    Only a few couples were dancing. It was still too early in this dangerous evening. Like us, most people were smiling uneasily or trying to remain invisible until they got their balance.
    “Is that Mike Sesich and Kathy Aroli?”
    “Yup.”
    “He looks so old. Do we look that bad?”
    “I hope not. But she looks good. Too good.”
    I finished my drink and ordered another. Were we going to spend the whole evening like this, figuring out who people were and then either envying them or feeling aghast?
    Henry and Russell excused themselves and went off to mingle.
    “Just because they’re happy doesn’t mean they can abandon us!”
    “What do you think? Henry and Russell?”
    “Adorable, but I keep remembering the time we made out at the movies. It’s strange.”
    “I’m just having trouble adjusting my gyroscope. I’m okay, but I have to go to the bathroom. Don’t move. Stay right here.”
    I nodded and watched her walk away. Brandon Brind came to the bar and ordered a drink. Here was a guy I’d always liked. After a hesitant greeting, we fell into easy conversation. He’d done all right. From the way he spoke about his life, he sounded happy and sane and looking forward to what tomorrow had to offer.
    We talked a long time. I didn’t realize how long until Zoe came back from the bathroom, looking very shaken. She was pleasant to Brandon and asked several questions, but it was plain she needed to tell me something. I excused myself and we took off.
    “Look at us, running off to the bathroom to talk. What? What happened?”
    “Oh, Miranda, you can’t believe—”
    “What, what’s the matter?”
    As we were about to enter the bathroom, from out of nowhere came one of the eeriest human voices I have ever heard. Hearing a voice like that, you instinctively know something is terribly wrong with whoever owns it. A midget’s voice? No, it was higher. I wondered if it was a joke, a gag recording. It came from behind me, so I didn’t have a chance to turn before seeing Zoe’s expression freeze, then melt to pure dread.
    “What, going to the bathroom again ? What’s wrong with your bladder? What’s the matter with you, Zoe?” It started out playful but ended aggressive.
    Then I heard, “Hello, Miranda.”
    I turned, and the first thing that registered was his haircut. It was the worst haircut in the world. Not even in Ulan Bator could a man get worse. Thick and unkempt in some places, it was much too short in others. It looked like someone had randomly hacked away at his hair with a pair of scissors, then grown tired and simply stopped.
    Then I recognized his face, the eyes particularly because they still contained some of the same jollity they’d once had. But now there were other things in them too—lunacy, anger, and confusion like no other. You could not look for long.
    And you didn’t want to look because everything there was wrong, off : his expression, the way his eyes wouldn’t stay on you for more than a second before sliding away then back, then away.…
    “Kevin?”
    He smiled and twisted his head to the side, like a dog when it’s confused. Kevin Hamilton, Zoe’s beloved Kevin. Captain of the football team, Dartmouth College, the halest fellow you ever met. Now he was so bizarre that my mind flooded and all its circuits