The Rules of Attraction

PAUL I call Sean up. Someone answers the Booth phone.

“Yeah?” Person is obviously stoned.

“Can I talk to Sean Bateman? I think he lives upstairs,” I ask.

“Yeah.” Really long pause. “If he’s asleep should I wake him?”

“Yes. Please.” The idiot probably is asleep.

I look at myself in the mirror and turn away. Next door, either my mom or Mrs. Jared is taking a shower. The TV is still on. I reach over and turn the volume down.

“Yeah? Hello?” Sean says. “Sean?”

“Yeah? Who is this? Patrick?”

Patrick? Who the hell is Patrick? “No. It’s Paul.”

“Paul?”

“Yeah. Remember me?”

“No. This better be good,” he says.

“I just wanted to know what’s going on,” I say. “Who’s Patrick?”

“No, Paul. That’s not it. What did you want?”

“Were you asleep?”

“No, of course I wasn’t asleep.”

“What are you doing?”

“I was just about to go to the party,” he says.

“With who?” I ask. “With Patrick?”

“What?”

“With who?” I ask again.

“I thought you asked me that,” he says.

“Well?”

“The person who’s been leaving notes in my box,” he says loudly, laughing.

“Are you?” I ask, sitting up.

“No, I’m not. Christ, you call me up to check on who I’m going with to the party?” he yells into the phone. “You’re sick!”

“I thought … I had a very vivid … image of you.”

“You’re also a bad judge of character,” he says, calming down.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I apologize.”

“It’s okay.” I can hear him yawn.

“So … who are you going with?” I ask, after a while.

“No one, you idiot!” he yells.

“I was only joking. Calm down. Can’t you take a joke?” I ask. “Don’t people from the South have a sense of humor?”

There’s a long pause and then he says, “When we’re around funny people.”

“Scorcher, Sean. Scorcher.”

“Rock’n’roll. Deal with it,” he mutters.

“Yeah.” I try to laugh. “Deal with it.”

“Listen, I’m going to the party, okay?” he says, finally.

“Well….”

“I’ll see you next week,” he says.

“But I’m coming back on Sunday,” I say.

“Right. Sunday,” he says.

“I’m sorry for calling,” I say.

“Sunday. Bye.” He hangs up.

I hang up too, then touch my face, and drink another beer; wonder why Richard’s late.