Boy by Blake Nelson

Chapter 8

"Do you remember that girl Antoinette?" Grace asked me one afternoon, while we were making out in her parents' bedroom.

I nodded that I did.

"Oh my God, I heard the weirdest thing about her." Grace sat up suddenly to tell me. "Supposedly, she went with Bennett Schmidt to a Southridge party? And everyone was really drunk? And they started making out? And then they started switching off."

"Switching off" was a term used for make-out parties that involved uncool people from redneck high schools like Southridge. When those people wanted to kiss different people, they didn't bother spinning a bottle. They switched off.

"And now she's supposedly with him. With Bennett! Can you believe that? He is so gross. Remember him in fifth grade? Chopping up those ants in science class?"

I nodded that I did. I scooted closer to Grace and tried to caress her back. But she was lost in thoughts of improper make-out games. She scooted away.

"Someone should tell her," said Grace. "She's never going to be accepted if she hangs out with people like that."

"She just moved here," I said. "She didn't know him in fifth grade."

"And switching off  ?" said Grace in disbelief. "With Bennett and some Southridge guys? That's disgusting!"

"Yeah, but what's the difference between that and spin the bottle?"

"Spin the bottle has rules!"

"Not when you play with Hanna," I said.

"And with spin the bottle you know who you're playing with. You know the people. It's not some random South- ridge guys."

"She knows Bennett."

"It just sounds icky to me. And poor Antoinette! First her brother jumps off a bridge. And then those weird girls start following her around. And now she's with Bennett of all people."

"Yeah . . . ," I said.

Grace became reflective. "God, high school is so different than I thought it would be."

"How so?"

"People are just so . . . They can't control themselves. And they have so many problems! Why can't they just have fun? And do fun high school things?"

"I'm with you on that," I said, trying to kiss her neck.

But Grace was not interested. She slid off the bed and refastened her bra strap. The make-out session was over.

"Gavin?" she said, a new seriousness in her tone.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Hanna and Claude are soul mates?"

"Uh . . ."

"Because you know Claude better than anyone," she said.

"Yeah, I probably do."

Grace finished buttoning her shirt. She went to her mother's full-length mirror and fluffed out her hair. "Hanna says that Claude doesn't think they're soul mates."                   

"What are they, then?"

"I don't know. Not soul mates."

"Did he say they weren't?"

"No. But they were talking about soul mates and he said he didn't know what it meant exactly. Meaning he didn't consider her to be his. Do you see what I mean?"

"I think so."

"If he's acting like he doesn't know what a soul mate is, that means he doesn't think Hanna is his."