Why Can’t Relationships be like Pizza?
Andy V. Roamer © 2021
All Rights Reserved
What’s Up with My Relationships?
I thought sophomore year would be easier. I got through freshman year okay, even got an award for good grades and good behavior. Yeah, I’m such an angel. It’ll take a long time to live that down. Whalen is in my homeroom again. Hope he’s over drawing pictures of his classmates, especially me. If he only knew the real me, maybe he wouldn’t have drawn that halo over my head.
Anyway, sophomore year sure isn’t starting out any easier. I can already tell my Chemistry class is going to be no picnic. I’m a right-brain guy, creative and nerdy, ha ha, not analytical and nerdy. And too bad I don’t have Mr. Aniso for Latin class this year. It would be great reading Julius Caesar with him, wouldn’t it? Better than having Latin with Miss Wagstaff. Reminds me of a librarian crossed with some of our nuns in grammar school. She’s tall and skinny with tight curly hair and these round granny glasses that make her eyes look huge. She never smiles, and when she gets mad, her eyes get bigger behind those glasses, her arms fly around, and she starts to screech like one of those scary prehistoric birds. Oh, for the days of Mr. Aniso.
And this year’s Math teacher, Mr. Felucci, never smiles either. He’s strict too. Reminds me of a mean, fat army sergeant who likes to put you on the spot in class. Not fun for my right-sided brain.
At least there’s Señorita Sánchez, our Spanish teacher. She’s from Spain and so gorgeous, even I might start to have fantasies about her. She’s tough, too, but nice about it. Doesn’t make us feel bad if we get something wrong.
So, school’s not all bad, right? I guess not. But it’s my life that’s—what?—kind of somewhere out there in some crazy zone, not exactly where I want it to be. Especially where my friends are concerned. Most importantly, Bobby. I still think we’re close, aren’t we? We did have that nice talk in our favorite place in the woods, where he apologized and said he still cared about me. I’m so happy for him. He was so excited about making the varsity football team.
But guess what? I haven’t seen him since then. Not alone anyway. He’s not in any of my classes. Oh, I see him in the corridors at school, where he’s nice to me, like he’s nice to everybody. That’s what makes him so great. Mr. Nice Guy, despite being a jock and making the varsity football team. He could be so full of himself, though he’s not. He’s just busy with school and practice. Always practice. So, friends have to take second place. Is that how it works?
And then Carole, my wonderful Carole. I thought when she got back from Paris, we’d be getting together a lot. But I’ve only seen her once. All she talked about was François. A gorgeous French guy she met over there. François this, François that. She barely asked me about my summer.
Well, okay. She’s got a huge crush. People who get crushes are a little off the wall, especially if that crush is on someone from a foreign country. The foreign person seems so exotic and all that. So, you have to give them some space, right? At least through the end of the year. Carole told me François and his family were coming to Boston to visit relatives for the holidays.
Then there’s my wonderful family. I haven’t known whether they’re coming or going for a long time, so it’s no use complaining about them. At least Mom and Dad got their citizenship, so that should settle things down for a bit. Mom can concentrate on her jewelry business, and Dad still has his job. Even if he loses his job, which he says can happen anytime, now that he’s a citizen it should be easier for him to find another job, right? Though to hear Dad talk about it, there are enough undocumented immigrants in the construction business, it’s just not out in the open. So why did we spend so much time studying that booklet with all those questions? He should be happy he passed the test. But he’s still complaining, now about all those undocumented guys. I wish he could be happy for a change.
Like Ray. What? My little brother happy? Yeah, there’s been a change in him in the last few weeks. He sits at the dinner table, smiling sometimes. Offers to pass the potatoes. If Dad tells him to put away his phone, he does it without arguing. Doesn’t even say anything smart-alecky back in English. Almost acts like the good obedient son of immigrants his parents want him to be. Really? Ray talking Lith-speak? “Taip.” “Ačiū.” “Ar galiu daugiau bulvių?” “Yes.” “Thank you.” “May I have more potatoes?” How long is that going to last?
Like I said, with my family, I never know if they’re coming or going or running around in crazy circles.
Well, at least there’s Joe’s Pizza. Always Joe’s. One thing I can count on. Even though it looks like Bobby’s football teammates have discovered it, Joe’s Pizza is still a good place to come and chill out. Maybe I don’t need to find another place. How could I ever leave Joe’s? And one good thing about football practice. It’s not just Bobby who’s so busy. All those guys are busy after school practicing. So, they haven’t been coming here much. It looks like I’ll still be able to come and have my slice in peace, at least until football season ends.
So, RV, just settle down and start your homework. You can always write more in your diary after your three or four hours of hitting the books. Who am I kidding? I’ll be so tired then, I’ll be sick of looking at the computer screen. I’ll just want to go to bed. That’s what I get for being smart and going to Boston Latin School.
Am I smart? There are a lot of smart kids here, so I don’t feel so smart. It takes a lot of work just to keep up. But I wouldn’t be happier being dumb, would I? No. How about just kind of average? Not that either.
So here I come, sophomore year! You’re not going to get me down, even if I have no idea where I fit in or what you have in store for me!