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Cory would rather do anything than stay at Topanga’s place for the weekend. His parents, however, insisted that chemicals aren’t good for a growing boy, and in fact might kill him instead of giving him cool superpowers like Spider-Man if they left him behind at the house and exposed him to the chemicals being used in the fumigation process. So he packs what he hopes are his most grown-up looking pajamas and allows his mother to drive him to the Lawrences.
Topanga’s folks were just as hippie-dippy and cool they always were, and they were both great cooks who tried to accommodate his desires (even though unprocessed tofu was the meal of the day and even though it was washed down with thick shakes made of seaweed). Cory didn’t complain too much – his mother had taught him better than that – and maybe if he were as nice as possible a hidden stash of something sweet would pop into view. Topanga spoke in riddles toward him, but with her parents she was bracingly direct – so, the experience of sharing a meal with her in her own home was exactly like sitting in class with her. How was that everyone else seemed to understand how to talk to her? It was like they were speaking different languages and she had emigrated to the planet directly from the moon.
The Lawrences didn’t have a TV set, and their books were about things like saving the earth and the evils of humanity and recycling. Who reads about recycling? It’s just something you do!
Cory sank into the warmth of Jebediah’s easy chair with a sigh. He should have gone with Eric to their grandmother’s, or gone on a sleepover to Shawn’s place – wherever that happened to be. Or at Minkus’ place, pretending that he was able to tolerate him.
As he lamented his lack of foresight in bringing along a comic book, “Are you bored?” Topanga asked. She’d been sitting with a thick volume of stories spread out across her knees – ‘Fairytales for Feminists’, the cover read, and he wasn’t surprised that she was reading it. She was probably already planning her next book report on it or something like that.
“No! I’m just resting my eyeballs,” he said.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” she said. “I believe it’s time for you to come outside and appreciate the glories of nature.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Does it involve more tofu?”
“No!” she said. “It involves looking at the stars.”
Cory might have guessed so. They strolled out to the backyard and the world spread out before him, black and dotted with creamy swirls.
“This is my favorite spot,” Topanga said. “It’s the best place to watch the stars move. You can see absolutely anything the sky has to offer.”
“Huh,” he said. “Thank you.” It was, he realized, the first time he’d ever thanked her.
Cory glanced over at her. In the moonlight, with stars shooting all around them, his weird classmate looked…kind of pretty?
Huh. Maybe Topanga’s weirdness isn’t as gross as he thought it was after all.