22

Soon enough, my eyes began to close and open, and close and open, and, finally, stay closed. The book was warm and restoring. Here was this boy, who had all the problems in the world, but who took them day by day. He made scary things not so scary, just some grand adventure. Every hardship, a detour on the road to happiness, a necessary and helpful turn. If Dmitri could get to happiness from his little Austrian village, overcoming poverty, villains and perverts, to become a wealthy sophisticate, a great writer, whose work comforted and cultivated the masses, surely I could get to my dreams too.

Yet I found Dmitri phony. I mean, how could this guy have such a great attitude? Sure, life ultimately worked out. But he couldn't have known it would. Maybe it seemed rosier in hindsight, once he was already rich and successful. But wasn't he unhappy before that? Much of Dmitri's life seemed pretty miserable.

Besides, nobody's life is all adventure. A lot of life is boring and upsetting and confusing. You never really know where to go or what to do. So much is dumb luck. Lord knows Dmitri had dumb luck. How many Dmitris came before and after, I wonder, who didn't make it? Who never met their bearded lady? Who couldn't do well in school? Who turned left instead of right? Huh?

And why, most importantly, doesn't Dmitri talk about any of that? I'd like to know. Did he get so successful that he forgot what it's like for the rest of us? The rest of us are just trying. Trying to make a story from a life that doesn't seem like one. Trying our best but knowing we'll need luck, too. That's the kind of book I wanted to read. A book by Dmitri before he knew he was on a Grand Adventure, when it was more like a Confused Search, going in any direction, walking to walk, hoping to get somewhere. That'd be the book for me.

Dozing, thinking about the kind of book I'd like to read, I heard someone unzip the tent and crawl in. I opened my eyes. It was Chris.

'Hey man,' I said.

'Hey Lawrence,' he whispered, poking me. He wore a drunken grin. 'How's it goin? You readin that Dmitri book?'

'Yeah,' I said. 'It's starting to get on my nerves though . . . Spending too much time with an Austrian, ya know? Not easy.'

Chris chuckled.

'How come you're not out there?' I asked. 'It's still early, no?'

'Yeah,' he said. 'We're having fun. I just wanted to give Matty and Ema some time alone.' He growled and threw his hand out in the shape of a claw.

'True,' I mumbled.

'Yo,' he said. 'You don't like Ema, do you?'

'Me?' I said. 'That's crazy. Just crazy . . . Why, did someone say something?'

'No, no one said anything. Don't worry. I just thought, maybe—you sure you don't like her?'

'I'm sure! I think she's awful, if you want to know the truth . . . she's cute, I'll admit that. But, no. Absolutely no.'

'Okay, just checking,' Chris said.

'How could I?' I continued. 'We barely talk.'

'You guys used to hang out a lot though, right? When she lived on your street?'

'Years ago.' I said.

'I get it.' Chris said. 'You don't like her.' His breath reeked of vodka. His drunken grin was wider than ever.

I sighed. 'Have you ever wanted to be with someone just to know you can?'

Chris reflected. 'Almost always,' he laughed.

'Well, maybe it's something like that.'

'I get it,' Chris said.

'I've barely thought about her since she moved,' I explained. 'But after not seeing her for so long, she's suddenly on our trip. And with Matty. I had no idea about them, did you? It just feels like he's worth it, but I'm not. That gets me down.'

'Yeah, definitely,' Chris said.

'She's also pretty. People sometimes like people just because they're pretty. Especially, you know, in my situation, when you've never really had a girlfriend.'

'Mhm,' Chris said.

'But deep down,' I continued. 'I know she's wrong for me. She's a different person then she was. So am I. She likes to party and socialize. I have other goals. I like to keep to myself more . . . Can everyone tell I have feelings?'

'Maybe, but I wouldn't worry about it.'

It was quiet for a while, until I spoke again. 'Chris? Do you ever get nervous about anything?'

'Sure,' he said.

'Like what?'

'Well, sometimes when I'm high, I get nervous about the way I'm sitting. Like I'm sitting weird, and everyone's judging me for it.'

'You get nervous about sitting weird?' I laughed. 'That's so stupid—is that the only thing?'

'Pretty much.'

'Do you ever worry about your future or anything?'

'Not really.'

'But like, you haven't heard back from Columbia yet. And you're not even excited about being a lawyer. That doesn't make you nervous?'

'Nope.'

'Alright,' I shrugged. 'Never mind.'

'Hey, wanna read your Dmitri book aloud?' He asked.

'Yeah, no problem,' I said. 'Where were we?'

'Dmitri had just started working at the library.'

I flipped backwards to find the page.

'Also,' Chris said. 'Can I read this time?'

'Yeah, That'd be great.'

I found the page and handed the book to Chris. He started reading. I lay there beaming, hanging on every word.