Page 21 of What Boys Learn

“Not usually. She didn’t want me to text too often, because her boyfriend always looked at her phone. We wrote notes on paper. I know she showed them to Sidney. I’m sure they both laughed at them. But Sidney was okay. She knew what Izzy was doing.”

“And what was she doing?”

“Using me.”

A muscle flickered at his jaw, but he wasn’t getting that faraway look he used to get when he was fourteen and we’d start arguing. He wasn’t looking past me, over my shoulder. He was looking me straight in the eye.

I asked, “Did you have any big fights with Izzy?”

“I wouldn’t call them big fights. Arguments, maybe.”

Izzy was gorgeous, wealthy, and smart. Out of Benjamin’s league. I shouldn’t have thought that, but I did. “You didn’t ever . . . spend any time with her, intimately?”

He scoffed so loudly it came out more like an angry huff.

“So she really was more of an acquaintance then,” I said. “But shedidpass notes to you.”

“She was just doing what girls do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Like I said. They use guys.”

His cold certainty troubled me.

“Would you say that she bullied you?”

“No,” he said flatly. “Bullying? Really, Mom?”

I waited.

“She never threatened me. She didn’t intimidate me. She used me. If you don’t know the difference between using and bullying, then I guess you don’t know anything.”

“Oh come on, Benjamin,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Do we have to draw Venn diagrams? Using? Bullying? Teasing? Humiliating? Isn’t theresomeoverlap?”

He didn’t laugh. Slowly and pedantically, he said, “Women . . . use . . . men. Even when they’re trying to act sweet and soft and virtuous. They wantthings. They getthings.”

“What things, Benjamin? What things?”

The air had grown charged between us. My scalp was tingling. I knew if I looked in a mirror I’d soon see a psoriasis stress flare-up of scaly red streaks along my hairline.

“In any case,” I said when it was clear he didn’t plan to answer, “Izzy was mean. You implied it. Chandrasaidit—”

“Who?”

“Chandra,” I repeated. “She works at Giuliano’s. You know, Chandra Kapoor?”

His eyes narrowed. “Chandra is the Queen Bitch. She’s way meaner than Izzy could ever be. Why was she talking to you? Why were you talking toher?”

“Relax.” I didn’t want to get stuck analyzing girl cliques, especially ones with no direct connection to Izzy or Sidney. “We barely talked. Chandra just said to say hello to you.”

“She did not.”

“She did.” His cold glare flustered me. “Just in passing. We weren’t talking about you mainly, we were talking about Izzy.”

“Chandra Kapoor didn’t tell you to say hello to me.”

There was that certainty again, fortified by righteous anger.