Page 96 of Happiness for Beginners

“Exotic things,” I said, thinking back to the places he’d named on the drive out.

“Some exotic, some not. I’d like to see my childhood home again. And there’s a merry-go-round at a park my grandma used to take me to. I’ve been thinking I should maybe go to Texas and look through all my dad’s historic photographs of my great-grandparents and aunts and uncles. And there are things I want todoon the list, as well.”

I turned on my side to face him.

“I’d like to go scuba diving. I’d like to drive a race car. I’d like to ride the world’s scariest roller coaster.”

“You’d like to pet a whale.”

He nodded, pleased to be reminded. “That was lucky. I applied for that research assistantship on a whim. I literally saw the posting on a bulletin board in the student center and thought, ‘Cool.’ But ever since I actually got the job, I’ve been thinking it might be—”

“Destiny.”

“Well, I was going to say, ‘a possible new direction.’”

“I could totally see you as a whale researcher,” I said.

“I’ve been thinking about it. The professor I’m going to work for, she brings an underwater microphone and records their sounds. Whales have a highly evolved language that works like sonar. They have special neurons called spindle cells. Humans have them, too, and they’re linked with self-awareness, and compassion, and language. Except whales have had them about fifteen million years longer than we have.” He thought for a second. “I might make a career out of trying to decipher what they say.”

“Wouldn’t it be amazing if whales turned out to be smarter than us?”

“I suspect they are.”

“And you can be the guy to figure out just how much.”

He squinted a little, like he was thinking about it. “I’ll just have to see how this internship goes,” he said. Then he grinned. “Meanwhile, you’ll be rocking it out at that bar mitzvah.”

Oh, God. I’d forgotten. I’d been dreading it ever since they invited me. But now it was looming, suddenly, not that far away.

“Why did you agree to do that, again?” Jake asked.

“Because they asked me to. And I wanted to prove that I wasn’t mad anymore.”

“Mad about what?”

“I thought you knew that story already.”

He shook his head. “Just parts.”

“Well,” I said, “my high school boyfriend cheated on me with my best friend. Then he dumped me at the prom, where he took my corsage back. I had to catch a ride home with this scrawny guy who’d gone stag, and he made me listen to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ and tried to put his tongue in my ear.”

“He took your corsage back?”

“A year later, my now-ex-BFF got accidentally pregnant and so they decided to get married. At nineteen. She converted to Judaism for him. Everybody thought they had ruined their lives, but they’re still together. He’s an accountant, and they’ve had two more kids. I’m not sure if that means they’re happy, but I don’t think they’re more unhappy than anybody else. They look happy on Facebook, anyway.”

Jake had closed his eyes. “Everybody looks happy on Facebook.”

“I lost my virginity to him, you know.”

Jake opened his eyes and looked over.

“His mom worked for Planned Parenthood, of all things,” I went on. “He got a box of condoms, and we filled them up like water balloons—just to kind of get in the groove.” The memory of that night appeared in my mind—still so sharp after all these years. “Then we got naked and climbed into his bed and fumbled through. We had no idea what we were doing. He had a Beatles poster on his ceiling, and I remember feeling like they were watching us.”

“Which poster?” Jake asked.

“Sergeant Pepper’s,” I said.

Jake smiled. “Igniting, of course, a lifelong marching band fetish for you.”

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