NOW THAT I�VE MADE MY
decision to go to
UNC
, there are suddenly things to do, and right away. I inform William and Mary I�m not coming; I send in my deposit to
UNC
. I tell my guidance counselor, Mrs. Duvall, who is overjoyed. She tells me I�m the only one from our class going there, and she can�t wait to add it to the list of accepted schools. �I knew you�d make me proud,� she says, nodding her head. �I knew it.�
Our caps and gowns have arrived, and Peter and I go to the gym to pick ours up, along with graduation announcements.
We sit down on the bleachers to try our caps on, and Peter tilts mine to the side and says, �You look cute.�
I blow him a kiss. �Let me see your announcements.� I want to see his name all fancy in calligraphy.
He passes me the box and I open it. I run my fingers along the embossed letters.
Peter Grant Kavinsky.
Then I say, �Have you given any more thought to inviting your dad?�
Peter looks around to see if anyone�s listening before saying in a low voice, �Why do you keep bringing that up?�
I reach out and touch Peter�s cap. �Because I think that, deep down, you want him to be there. If only so he can see all that you�ve accomplished and all that he�s missed out on.�
�We�ll see,� he says, and I leave it at that. It�s Peter�s decision.
* * *
On the way home from school Peter asks me, �Wanna see a movie tonight?�
�I can�t,� I say. �Trina�s friend Kristen is coming over to go over final details of Trina�s bachelorette party.�
He gives me a sly look. �Are you guys going to a strip club?�
�No! Ew. Like I would ever want to see any of that.�
�See any of what?� he demands.
�Oiled-up muscles.� I shudder. �I�m just glad you don�t have big muscles.�
Peter frowns. �Hey, I�m built.�
I squeeze his bicep, and he automatically flexes against my fingers. �You�re nice and lean with little muscles.�
�You really know how to emasculate a guy, Covey,� he says as he turns down my street.
I feel bad, because now I�m remembering how he said he wasn�t in the same shape the other guys on the lacrosse team were in. �I like you just the way you are,� I quickly say, and he laughs, so he can�t be that hurt.
�What�s your dad doing for his bachelor party?�
I laugh. �Have you met my dad? He�s the last person who would ever have a bachelor party. He doesn�t even have any guy friends to have a party with!� I stop and consider this. �Well, I guess Josh is the closest thing he has. We haven�t seen much of him since he went to school, but he and my dad still e-mail every so often.�
�I don�t get what your family sees in that guy,� Peter says sourly. �What�s so great about him?�
It�s a touchy subject. Peter�s paranoid my dad likes Josh better than him, and I try to tell him it�s not a contest�which it definitely isn�t. Daddy�s known Josh since he was a kid. They trade comic books, for Pete�s sake. So, no contest. Obviously my dad likes Josh better. But only because he knows him better. And only because they�re more alike: Neither of them is cool. And Peter�s definitely cool. My dad is bewildered by cool.
�Josh loves my dad�s cooking.�
�So do I!�
�They have the same taste in movies.�
Peter throws in, �And Josh was never in a hot tub video with one of his daughters.�
�Oh my God, let it go already! My dad�s forgotten about that.� �Forgotten� might be too strong of a word. Maybe more like he�s never brought it up again and he hopefully never will.
�I find that hard to believe.�
�Well, believe it. My dad is a very forgiving, very forgetful man.�
As we�re pulling into my driveway, Peter suddenly says, �What if I threw your dad a bachelor party? We could do steaks, maybe cigars��
�My dad doesn�t smoke cigars.�
�Well, just steaks, then. Geez.�
�Steaks and no strip club.�
�Oh my God, give me a little credit, Covey! Besides, I�m not twenty-one yet. I doubt I could even get in.�
I give him a dirty look.
Quickly he says, �Not that I would even want to. And I definitely wouldn�t want to go to one with my girlfriend�s dad.� He shudders. �That�s sick.�
�So then what�s the plan? Grill some steaks?�
�No. We�ll go to a nice steakhouse. We�ll get dressed up; it�ll be a real guys� night. Maybe we�ll even wear suits.�
I suppress a smile. Peter will never admit it, but he loves to get dressed up. So vain. �Sounds good.�
�Will you ask him about it?� he asks.
�I think
you
should ask him.�
�If he says yes, who should I invite?�
�Josh?� I suggest it half-heartedly, knowing he won�t agree.
�No way. Doesn�t he have any work friends?�
�He doesn�t have that many close friends at work,� I say. �Just Dr. Kang. . . . You could invite my uncle Victor. And sometimes he goes on bike rides with Mr. Shah from down the street.�
�Can you get me their e-mails
ASAP
?� Peter asks me. �I want to get the invites out as soon as I get the okay from your dad. When�s the bachelorette? The weekend after next?�
My heart surges. I�m so touched by how eager Peter is to impress my dad. �It�s the third Friday of the month. We�re waiting for Margot to come home.�
* * *
Kitty was suspiciously serene about not being invited to Trina�s bachelorette night, and I thought to myself, Wow, Kitty�s really growing up. She gets that it�s not about her; she understands that the night is about Trina.
But of course Kitty always has a long game.
For the first time in a while, she�s riding to school with us. She wanted Peter to take her in his Audi, but I put my foot down and said I needed to get to school too. So we�re all in his mom�s minivan like old times.
However, Kitty is up front and I am in the backseat.
From the passenger seat Kitty sighs heavily and rests her head against the window.
�What�s up with you?� Peter asks.
�The bridesmaids won�t let me go on the bachelorette night,� she says. �I�m the only one left out.�
I narrow my eyes at the back of her head.
�That�s bullshit!� Peter looks at me in the rearview mirror. �Why won�t you guys let her go?�
�We�re going to a karaoke bar! We can�t bring Kitty in because she�s too young. Honestly, I think I was barely allowed to go.�
�Why can�t you guys just go to a restaurant like we�re doing?�
�Because that�s not a real bachelorette.�
Peter rolls his eyes. �It�s not like you guys are going to a strip club or something�wait, did you change your mind? Are you going to a strip club?�
�No!�
�Then what�s the big deal? Just go somewhere else.�
�Peter, it�s not my decision. You�ll have to take it up with Kristen.� I smack the back of Kitty�s arm. �Same goes for you, you little fiend! Quit trying to weasel your way in by manipulating Peter. He has no power here.�
�Sorry, kid,� Peter says.
Kitty slumps in her seat and then straightens. �What if I came to the bachelor night instead?� she suggests. �Since you�re just going to a restaurant?�
Peter stutters, �Uh�uh, I don�t know, I�d have to talk to the guys. . . .�
�So you�ll ask? Because I like steak too. I like it so much. I�ll order steak with a baked potato on the side, and for dessert I�ll have a strawberry sundae with whipped cream.� Kitty beams a smile at Peter, who smiles back weakly.
When we get to the elementary school and she hops out, perky and puffed up like a chickadee, I lean forward in my seat and say into Peter�s ear, �You just got played.�
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