Chapter 9: Awful Older Boys

(In which Parmagon shows his true colors)

“Willa,” I said, “what do I do if I like a guy and kissed him but now he’s not talking to me and I haven’t been able to find him anywhere?”

“Who’d you kiss?” said Willa. “And do you want me to beat him up for you?”

Ah, another person who threatened to beat boys up. This Willa was a girl after my own heart, even if she did have dreadlocks.

“Um…I kind of kissed Parmagon at his party,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Whoa,” said Willa. “On the first date? You know how to work ‘em, girl.”

“You didn’t answer her question,” said Galadriel. “What should she do about Parmagon?”

Willa shrugged. “Just chillax for now. Parmagon’s like that, he gets caught up with his friends and stuff. And his parents might not like him getting involved with a younger girl.”

“How old is Parmagon, Aredhel?” Galadriel asked me.

I shrugged. “Search me. We never really got past the whole ‘You’re cute.’ ‘Let’s kiss’ bit of dialogue.”

“He’s nineteen,” Willa supplied.

“Nineteen? Wow, way to go, Aredhel,” said Galadriel, looking impressed. “I never thought you capable of scoring a boy four years older than yourself.”

“Sweetheart, I’m capable of many, many things,” I said. “Never underestimate one of Fingolfin’s kids.”

“You go, girl,” said Willa, high-fiving me. “Anyway, so yeah, if Parmagon doesn’t contact you in the next week or so, go find him and kick his butt because we girls do not have to take crap from boys. Not even if they’re cute.”

“So where’s your boy, anyway?” I said. “Haven’t seen him around for a while.”

“Ah, I think he had a gig last night,” said Willa. “So he’s probably got a hangover and is still in bed. Poor guy.”

“I guess that’s a hazard of hanging out with a BOM,” said Galadriel.

“BOM?” asked Willa.

“Badass Overpaid Musician,” I explained. “It’s a term Maedhros came up with.”

Willa laughed her weird shrieky laugh. “That is so perfect. Man, you Noldor are all so good with words.”

“Hey, are you being racist?” I demanded.

“No, darling. I’m making a generalization based on my observations over the years. I’m totally allowed to do that.”

“Uh-oh, Aredhel, she’s using big words. I don’t think we can argue with her now,” said Galadriel, grinning.

“Hey, I’m hungry,” I said. “Do you guys want to come back to my house for lunch?”

“Would your parents tolerate having me in the house?” said Willa. “From what you’ve told me, I don’t think I’m their type of girl.”

“They’ll get used to you,” I said. “And if not, at least they’ll pretend to so they can avoid being rude.”

“Ooh, you have to come, it’s so fun to watch Aredhel’s mom squirm,” said Galadriel. “Please?”

Willa shrugged. “Okay. Hey, I love watching adults squirm as much as the next person—why do you think I got these dreadlocks in the first place?”

We continued to talk about Willa’s dreadlocks all the way to my house. Galadriel wanted to know how she’d gotten her hair to do that (she said she just separated it into sections and then stopped brushing it) and what her parents thought (they were glad she was finally showing a bit of normal teenage rebellion—they were very big on that kind of thing). I wanted to know what her hair was like normally and what she’d do if she ever got sick of her dreadlocks.

“My hair is normally kind of curly, so that’s why it was easy to get it all matted,” said Willa. “As for what I’d do if I got sick of it, I guess I’d just cut it short and let it grow back.”

“You’re so brave,” said Galadriel. “I haven’t done anything with my hair in years.”

“Well, I can see why,” said Willa. “Your hair is seriously pretty, and I’m sure your parents and relatives and random guys are always telling you that, and you’re afraid to mess with it because you know everyone will get on your case. It was like that for me too. Remember this, though: It’s just hair. It grows back.”

“Huh,” said Galadriel. “Maybe I should dye mine purple.”

“Ooh, do it!” I said. “You’d look great with purple hair. Hey, we’re home!”

I opened the door, and we went in to the kitchen. Mom was in there overseeing the preparations for lunch.

“Hey, Mom!” I said. “I brought a couple friends home for lunch. Is that okay?”

Mom turned around and appeared to jump a little when she saw Willa. “Aredhel! Who’s this?”

“Oh, this is my friend Willa,” I said. “She’s Maglor’s sort-of girlfriend.”

“Oh,” said Mom. She had that distasteful, I-don’t-like-the-looks-of-you-but-I’ll-pretend-to-because-I-am-a-society-lady look on her face. I glanced at Galadriel and smiled.

“Well, of course you can stay for lunch, girls,” she said brightly after a somewhat awkward silence. “Do you mind eating in the kitchen, though? You see, I’m having a few of my friends over for lunch, and it just might be more fun for you guys if you stay out here.”

“No problem, Aredhel’s Mom,” said Willa brightly, throwing herself down into one of the chairs by the kitchen table. “Mmm, is that chicken salad? Looks delish.”

Galadriel and I grinned at each other again. Why had we ever made fun of Willa?

By Willa the Wonderful’s advice, I waited for another week before going into town to find Parmagon and kick his butt. Because seriously, seventeen days? No nice guy waits that long to contact a girl if he really likes her. So I grabbed Galadriel and into town we went.

“Wonder what he’ll say,” I said.

“I have no idea,” said Galadriel. “But remember, anything he says can be twisted to give you an excuse to dump him. Woman’s code.”

“Ooh, this’ll be fun,” I laughed.

But to be quite honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it at all. Actually, I was totally scared. What would Parmagon say? Would he say that he never really liked me and that he just kissed me for the bragging rights? Would he say that his parents didn’t want him hanging out with a younger girl and so he couldn’t see me anymore? Would he even be home?

I worried myself sick all the way into town before remembering what Willa had said about girls not needing to take anyone’s crap. If Parmagon was a jerk, it was his fault, not mine. All I’d done wrong was get tipsy and make a move on him.

“Sheesh, Aredhel, you’re quiet,” said Galadriel. “Nervous?”

“Yeah, G, I’m worried,” I said. “I know I shouldn’t be, but what if he says something totally mean?”

“In that case, you can beat him up,” said Galadriel. “I officially give you permission.”

“Well!” I said. “That certainly makes me feel better. C’mon, let’s kick some boy butt.”

We walked on down to the West Side in a much lighter mood, making up crazy excuses as to why Parmagon was ignoring me. Galadriel said he’d lost a bet with a friend and as a consequence couldn’t talk to girls for twenty days. I said he’d gotten whacked on the head with a fiddle (as a tribute to Malvegil’s suggestion about what to do with Galadriel) and couldn’t remember who I was. I said we’d have to whack him repeatedly to get his memory to come back.

“That’s a good plan,” said Galadriel. “Even if your theory isn’t true.”

As we neared the Plaza, I spied a group of familiar-looking boys sitting around drinking wine. Yes! It was Parmagon and his friends! Now I wouldn’t have to knock on his door and risk an embarrassing meeting with his mother.

“Hey, guys,” I said, approaching them confidently. “Hey, Parmagon.”

He looked surprised to see me. “Oh, hey, Aredhel. Didn’t expect to see you around.”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood, and I hadn’t seen you guys in a while so I decided to say hi…” I was trying to sound casual, but my palms were all sweaty and my heart was beating really loud. I hoped he couldn’t tell.

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t talked to you for a while. I guess our paths just haven’t crossed,” he said, smiling.

Just as my brain started working overtime (He’s not being mean to me! He likes me! He’s not a jerk!) Tyellam said, grinning, “Hey Aredhel, is it true you kissed Parmagon at the party?”

“Um…yes,” I said, not knowing how he knew that but not wanting to lie. “Why?”

“What are you talking about, you weirdo?” said Parmagon. “I never kissed you.”

Wait. What?

“Yes, you did,” I said, trying to remain calm. “Don’t you remember?”

“I don’t remember anything like that. I do remember that you were kinda tipsy, though. Maybe you’re thinking of someone else.”

I stared at him in horror. What the heck was wrong with this guy? I knew I’d kissed him, and he knew it, yet here he was denying it.

“Never mind,” I muttered, turning away. “Let’s just go, G.”

She put her arm around me as we walked away. “It’s okay, Aredhel. The first boy is always the hardest.”

“I can’t believe he’d just deny it like that,” I said, starting to tear up. “What did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, remember? He’s just a jerk. You’ll get over him.”

“It’s not just that he turned out to be a jerk,” I sniffed. “It’s that he made me look like a liar in front of his friends. I can’t stand that.”

Galadriel didn’t say anything. She just patted me on the back as I stood in a corner of the park, crying.