Free Forever by Judy Blume Page B

head.
    â€œLook . . . it was just a game.”
    â€œNothing is just a game.”
    â€œSo they’ll win next time.”
    â€œNext time isn’t good enough.”
    We walked to a Beef & Brew and were seated in a booth. While we were
     waiting to give our orders Erica said, “Didyou know
     Artie’s been accepted at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts?”
    â€œHey . . . that’s great,” I said.
     “You’re really on your way now . . .”
    â€œOn my way nowhere . . .” Artie said. “My old man
     won’t let me go.”
    Erica turned to him. “You didn’t tell me that . . .”
    â€œYeah . . . well . . . he just made up
     his mind. It’s a four year college or nothing.”
    â€œHe can’t do that,” Erica said.
    â€œNo . . . who do you think’s paying the
     tuition?”
    â€œListen . . .” I said, “you can major in drama
     anyway.”
    â€œThe eternal optimist speaks again,” Artie said.
    â€œI’m sorry . . . I was just trying to look on
     the bright side of things.” I glanced over at Michael, hoping he would come to my
     rescue but he didn’t say anything. I guess he knew about Artie’s father
     already.
    â€œYou’ve got to stand up for your rights!” Erica said.
     “Refuse to go anywhere but the American Academy . . .”
    â€œLay off!” Michael said, suddenly, and something in his voice
     made Erica stop.
    All four of us studied our menus then, or pretended to, and the silence in
     our booth was uncomfortable. Finally the waitress came along and said, “Okay . . .
     what’ll it be?”
    Later, when Michael and I were at my house, alone, I said,
     “I’ve never seen Artie that way . . . he was so
     depressed.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œUsually he’s all fun and games.”
    â€œThat’s his public image.”
    â€œIs the private Artie different?”
    â€œJust sometimes . . .”
    â€œDid you hear him jump on everything I said?”
    â€œI heard . . . but I’ve seen him that way
     before. He’ll be okay in a couple of days. You’ve got to understand how he
     feels about school . . . he really hates it. I don’t think he’ll make it
     through one year of college, let alone four . . .”
    â€œI didn’t know . . .”
    â€œIt wasn’t your fault.”
    â€œDo you think he and Erica are good for each other?”
    â€œThat’s not my business . . . besides, every
     girl at school has the hots for him since the play and he’s not
     interested . . . that must prove something.”
    â€œWould you be . . . interested . . .”
    â€œOh, sure. I only go with you because I can’t get anything
     better.” He pulled me down next to him. “We can’t do anything to help
     Artie, right now.”
    â€œI suppose not . . .”
    â€œWe can help Ralph, though,” he said, moving my hand to his
     belt buckle.

    On Thursday Michael called to say that Sharon and Ike were taking some
     time off to go skiing and they’d asked him to join them and his parents said, yes,
     he could miss a week of school, because this was a special occasion, and the three of
     them were leaving the next morning and wouldn’t be back until the following
     Sunday.
    â€œTen days?” I said. “Two entire
     weekends?”
    â€œIt’s very important, Kath . . . I’m
     working toward my instructor’s pin . . . you know that.”
    â€œI know . . . I know . . .”
    That first weekend my parents didn’t leave me alone for a minute.
     You’d have thought I was a widow. They took me out to dinner on Friday night, and