Dancing With the Devil (5 page)

“Whose car is that?” Stan demanded, coming in the front door. “Mackenzie?” He hollered so loudly Mac could hear him from her room. She tiptoed down the stairs and stood just beyond their sight line and listened, hoping he'd go into his den before she left.

“She's getting ready to go out, Stan. Did you pick up my prescription?” Barb asked.

Mac heard the crackle of the thin white pharmacy bag and the rattle of pills as he tossed it onto the coffee table. “Sweet dreams.” Mackenzie peeked into the hallway and saw him walk to the front window and pull the curtain aside. As Barb went to retrieve the bag, he added, while still looking out the window, “The pharmacist said these are stronger and you should be careful or you'll turn into Sleeping Beauty.”

Lily said, “I know that story, Daddy! I read it in school today!”

“You did, Princess? But I bet she didn't take pills to go to sleep, huh?”

“Oh, Daddy, you're so silly. She took a apple.”

He was still staring at Grady's car parked in front of their house. “Mackenzie!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Who does that car belong to?”

Lily ran to her daddy, crawled between his legs, and then stood up in front of him to get a good look out the window, too. “Yeah,” she piped up. “Who is that guy?”

Stan looked down at Lily for a second and then squinted back out at the car. “There's a guy in there? You can see that, Lil? I have
got
to get
glasses.”

Mackenzie walked into the front hall. “What did you do with my black jacket?” she asked Barb. “It was right here on the rack.”

“Oh, sorry, honey, I took it to the cleaners. It was looking a bit ragged. Why don't you wear the pink one?”

“You don't hafta wear a jacket 'cause it's too warm,” Lily chimed in. “I didn't wear mine at recess today. You wanna wear mine, Kenzie? You can if you wanna.”

“Thanks, Brat, but I doubt it would fit me,” Mac said. “Barb, I hate the pink one.”

“Well, it's all you've got right now.”

“Thanks to you,” Mackenzie said.

Barb's eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Excuse me? I do you a favor and—”

“Barbara, I'll handle this. Take Lily into the other room,” Stan said. When Barb hesitated, he added, “
Now
.”

“Where do you think you're going, anyway?” he said, once they were alone. It was more of a statement than a question.

“Out. I don't have any homework left, and in fact, I'm ahead on my science project.”

“And who is that guy?” Stan demanded.

“He's just a friend.”

“Dante again?” He looked out the window. “I don't know any gay boys with '69 Mustangs. You sure he's a gay?”

Mac blew her bangs off her forehead.

“If you let me buy you a car,” he continued, craning for a better look, “you wouldn't need a boy to drive you anywhere. Anyway, I could've given you a ride. Why don't you ever ask me to drive you anywhere?”

She didn't want to stay in the house a second longer than absolutely necessary, but she needed him to let her go. She had avoided telling Grady about being grounded for Spring Fling because she wanted to get him to the reservoir. Going on the boat relaxed him, and he'd be more likely to forgive her for messing things up.

Maybe they could even plan something alone. Who needed to go to a stupid dance anyway? She gestured toward where Lily had gone and in her sweetest voice said, “You need to be here. You told Lily you'd give her more dance lessons.” As she reached for the door, her father put his hand on it, preventing her escape.

“What now, Dad?”

Flipping his wallet open, he said, “Don't you, ah, ‘Geeks,' grab a bite after? You need some money?” He reached toward her and tucked a twenty into the front pocket of her jeans. “I can buy my girl some fries, can't I?” He leaned in to kiss her, but she reeled her head back and pretended to sneeze.

“Better not get to close. I might have something.” She shoved her hand into her pocket, curling her fingers around the money.

“Now, c'mon, Mackenzie. I know you're not too old for a goodbye kiss,” Stan said, and stepped closer and gave her a chaste kiss on the forehead.

When he saw her roll her eyes, he said, “You know, I wish we could just skip this whole teenage phase.”

“Yeah,” Mac said, “like
that's
my big problem.”

Barb walked back in and said, “Mackenzie, why don't you—”

Stan cut her off. “Barbara, let me handle this, why don't
you
?”

“But, Stan,” Barb started to say, until he put his hand in front of her face, palm out, like a cop stopping traffic.

“Do you mind?” Silence. “I thought not.” Turning back to Mac, he continued, “You do want my permission to go out, am I correct? Not to mention that ridiculous trip you insist on leaving your family for?”

Mackenzie stared at the floor but nodded. “Then start acting like the good girl I know you can be.” He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead again. “Remember, no one can love you as much as I do, sweetheart.”

Mackenzie mumbled a thanks, and left. When she was almost to the car, she pulled her hand out of her pocket, opened her fist, and let the bill fly with the wind. Let someone else spend her father's blood money.

Grady was fiddling with the radio dial when she got in the car.

“Are you insane? I told you never to pick me up right in front of my house. My dad almost didn't let me open the door, let alone go out.”

“Geez, sorry.” Grady flipped off the radio and started the engine. Right away Mac was sorry she'd snapped at him, and reached for his hand. He glanced over at her and forgave her with one of his prizewinning Grady smiles. He drove to the reservoir and got a cooler out of the trunk.

“What's in there?” Mac reached for the lid but snapped her hand back when Grady swatted it away.

“Oh, just a little surprise,” he said, grinning.

“You're sure being Mr. Mystery.” Mackenzie watched him as he rowed. Lily had been right; it was a warm night, and Grady wore a short-sleeved shirt. His arms bulged every time he pulled back on the oars, and the shadows got caught in the muscles. He knew she was staring at him, and the next time he stretched forward to take a stroke, he stuck his fingers out straight, and as he pulled the oars back, raked his fingertips along Mac's thighs, sending electric bolts into her groin. She almost groaned aloud. She shivered and zipped her jacket up to her neck.

They got to their rock and spread out the blanket. Grady opened the cooler, taking out some crackers and a bottle of champagne.

“Where'd you get that?”

“I snatched it from my dad's wine cellar. Well, it's not really a cellar, more like a refrigerated cabinet, but half the time he forgets what's in there. He'll never miss it.”

Mackenzie gave him a doubtful look and took off her jacket. It already felt like summer; a breeze lifted the scent of the fresh water and brought it to her, like a gift. It smelled warm. She reached into the cooler for a little glass container and held it up in the moonlight, trying to read the label. “What's this?”

“Caviar. The real kind—not that cheap stuff they put on sushi. You're supposed to eat it on special occasions,” Grady said, opening the lid. He took a tiny spoon and placed a small mound of the stuff onto a cracker. “Ever had it?” he asked, examining the shining black beads.

“I don't do
any
kind of sushi. Have you?”

“No, but it's supposed to be classy.”

“Then who am I to argue? Should be delish. Go ahead, you try it first.”

Grady raised the cracker to his mouth, popped the whole thing in, and stood arms akimbo, as though he'd just performed an act of heroism.

“Mmm,” he said with his mouth full, and gave a thumb's up. He handed a caviar-piled cracker to Mackenzie. Following Grady's example, she put the whole thing into her mouth and started chewing. Almost instantly she made a face.

“Ugh. This stuff is disgusting!” She jumped up and ran a few feet away and spat it all into the bushes. “It tastes like fish!” She heard the pop of the cork and accepted a Styrofoam cup filled with champagne as she sat back down. She couldn't get rid of the taste, even after downing the whole cup. “How can you like that stuff?” She swished with a refill of champagne.

Grady gulped his drink too, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I hated it. But I didn't want to be the only one with fish breath.”

“Why, you …!” Mackenzie pounced, trying to pummel him, or at least tickle him to death. He feigned helplessness in the face of her punishment and they wrestled, laughing. She could feel her love for him float up like a balloon licked by the wind, rising, rising, until she feared it would fly away, beyond her reach.

Grady, exacting his revenge, rolled her onto her back and, grabbing her hands, pinned them over her head. “
Now
try to tickle me, Evil One,” he taunted. Holding her wrists with his right hand, he wiggled the fingers of his left, slowly lowering it, hovering just above the most ticklish spot on her stomach. Mac wriggled and laughed under him, anticipating the tickling, dreading it, and loving his attention.

The champagne had made them both so giddy that before they knew it, their goofing around managed to wind up with Grady on top of her. The sound of their breathlessness broke the silence. He leaned in, placing his mouth on hers, his lips warm, nibbling, insistent.

The more she felt his excitement growing, the higher the balloon flew. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. They kissed. Grady groaned.

Mackenzie tossed her hair back; a gust of wind pushed it further off her face, reminding her to breathe. Obediently, she took great gulps of air, feeling both excited and sick to her stomach.

Just go with it. Do it. Can't you be like everyone else and just hook up? It's no big deal.

But the queasiness grew, and she gingerly slipped off Grady and pulled into herself as she settled on the rock.

“Hey, come here.” He reached for her, trying to bring her back, trying to pretend the moment wasn't broken.

“I have to tell you something.”

Grady sat up and drew his knees up to his chest, mirroring Mac's posture, making it obvious he knew the moment was not only broken but completely shattered. He combed his fingers through his hair. “What.”

“We can't go to Spring Fling.”

Grady leaned his elbows on his knees and he looked out at the water, his face tight. “You mean
you
can't go.”

“I can't help it that my father is such an ass!”

“You know, Mac, this is getting so old. Every single event in the past six months—oh, happy anniversary, by the way; that was why I brought the special picnic, in case you were wondering—has occurred with everyone but us. There's always something getting in the way of our having a good time together.”

Mac stood up. “If I could wish on a star and have a different father, believe me, I would!”

“It's not just him.”

Mackenzie folded her arms in front of her, trying to protect her heart against whatever he was about to say. “What do you mean, it's not
just
him?”

“You never want to do anything. We make out, and then you give some kind of excuse to get out of the situation.” Grady started rolling up the blanket and put the cups and crackers back in the cooler.

Mac zipped the stupid pink jacket all the way up and hugged herself tighter. “I have a choice, don't I? Grady? C'mon, don't be mad.” She reached her hand out to him. He turned his back and picked up the little container of caviar.

“Grady?”

He didn't turn around, and facing the lake, flung the caviar into the water. It skipped along the surface four times and sank.

Mackenzie was sitting in the school cafeteria and saw Frankie walk in, looking for her. Mac looked down, hoping she wouldn't find her in the crowd. Over the last three weeks it had become obvious that Frankie just didn't understand what a broken heart felt like.

Mac just wanted to avoid more of her nagging and not have to explain every little thing. No such luck.

“I see you're sitting with your new best friends: chocolate, grease, and sugar,” Frankie said as she dumped her backpack on the floor. When Mac didn't reply, Frankie leaned over the table and placed both hands on Mackenzie's shoulders. “Dude, I am attempting to make contact with the alien who has taken over the body and soul of Mackenzie Douglas. Are you in there, Alien One?”

Mackenzie looked up, her eyes glazed and tired. If she could explain to Frankie how out of control she felt when she and Grady were going over the edge … like she was falling through space … like she was going to hit the pavement and splatter, maybe Frankie would understand.

But how could Frankie
understand if I don't get it myself?

Mac barely had enough energy to ignore it, let alone explain it aloud to her best friend.

Her skin had turned a dull shade of grey, interrupted by patches of florid zits. Her hair hung in greasy clumps. She shook her head. “I can't, Franks.” She stuffed a handful of chips into her mouth. She barely chewed them before reaching for the brownie on the paper plate in front of her.

Frankie said, “You've certainly covered all
my
favorite food groups … fried, sugared, and uh, fried.” She fingered a bag of Fritos. “Your chopsticks still on vacation? I ask again, who are you, and what've you done with Mac?”

No response, no smile. “How 'bout Skater?”

“Cut it out, Frankie. I just need time to deal.” Or, if she ignored it long enough, maybe it would just go away.

“Time? How long since you ate anything green?”

“I had some green M&M's for breakfast this morning.”

“Oh, wait! That sounds familiar … was that a joke?” Frankie sighed and leaned forward. “Mac, at the risk of sounding like my mother, you need some veggies. You have to keep up your training. How're you going to manage the trip?”

Mackenzie stopped eating and looked at Frankie like she'd never heard of the trip, then shoved another bite in her mouth and looked down again.

Frankie said, “C'mon, you're not surprised that that's all he wanted, right? And if that's the case, who needs him anyway?”

“I thought he was different. And I did believe he loved me. And if he loved me, why couldn't he just wait?”

Frankie asked, “You know what he's thinking. If you loved him, why couldn't you just blow him?”

“What was that?” Charlie said as he put his tray down next to Mac's. “Sounds like an interesting conversation if you ask me.”

“No one did,” Frankie said. She waved at him. “Buh-bye, now.”

Instead of leaving, he turned to Mackenzie and surveyed her lunch. “Oh yeah, I can see you're way over that goofball swimmer. It's so sad about your RC though. You're going to crush that fine instrument under that big butt you're growing.”

“You are such an asshole, Charlie. Anyone ever tell you that?” Frankie reached over and pushed his lunch away.

Charlie hooked his finger over the edge of the tray and pulled it back. “Actually, Dad says it every day, right after he kisses me good morning.” Turning back to Mac, he said, “You know, if you don't want the bike, I'm happy to take it off your hands.
I'll
still fit on it.”

“Yeah, 'cause you're a shrimp,” Frankie said.

“I may be slight, but it's all muscle, baby.” He pulled the fabric of his sleeve tight and flexed. “So how about it, Skater? Want to sell me the RC? You obviously have lost your joy dee viver.”

Mackenzie looked at Charlie. “What are you talking about?”

“Sell me your bike when it comes in so you don't lose your deposit. C'mon, I'll take it off your hands for, say, $700 cash.”

Mackenzie smiled.

Frankie said, “That's less than the deposit, you idiot. But thanks, Charlie—hard to believe that you'd be the first person to get Mac to smile in three weeks.”

As Mac and Frankie walked away from the table, Charlie called after them. “Hey, Mac! I'm still the size you
used
to be—I'll fit on that ride. Remember, I've got the cash if you eat the trash!”

Mackenzie lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Just the thought of extracting herself from the covers exhausted her, and she heaved a deep sigh. She didn't want to move. Didn't want to deal. Finally, she dragged herself out of bed and sat on the edge, shoulders slumped. Tugged at the bottom of her tank top, but it just rode up again. Tried to comb her fingers through her hair, but when she hit the first tangle, gave up.

I'll look like Frankie with the dreads, I keep this up
, she thought. She leaned down to the pile of clothes on the floor and picked up the jeans she'd worn all week, lacking the energy to care about clean laundry. Holding her breath, Mac snapped the top button. She looked at the makeup and perfume scattered across the vanity and ran her finger along the top of a compact. A line appeared in the dust.

She pulled a frayed long-sleeved tee over her head, tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ears, and went to the kitchen for some breakfast. Barb was still in her robe and was yawning as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, honey. You want some?” Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out a second mug and filled it. She reached into the fridge for the nonfat nondairy creamer and handed it to Mac.

Mac took it and put it back in the refrigerator without a word, grabbed the carton of cream, and tilted into her coffee until it was a pale shade of beige. Or a dark shade of white.

Barb stood motionless, her mouth open in surprise as Mac next went for the sugar bowl and dumped in three heaping tablespoons. “Cream?
And
sugar? Apparently, I've been working longer hours than I thought. Since when do you ingest anything white?”

“Do you mind?” Mac took a long, deep gulp. “How late did you get in last night anyway? You look like crap.”

“Boy, Mac, which side of the bed did you fall out of this morning?” Barb said, obviously containing her anger. “You want to try again?”

“Sorry. You look tired is all I meant.”

Barb sat at the kitchen table and unfolded the paper with a snap. “It was too late, and I shouldn't have taken my pill, but I was afraid I wouldn't get any sleep at all if I didn't. I swear,” she said, smoothing out the deep crease in the center section. “This job would be perfect if it weren't for all the stress.”

Lily bounced into the kitchen, awake the moment her eyes shot open. “Look! I'm just like Tigger! Because I'm bouncing. Tiggers bounce. Did you know that, Kenzie?” She bounced right into Mac, making her spill coffee on her shirt.

“Jesus, Lily! Do you have to be so unbelievably obnoxious first thing in the morning?” She was sorry she snapped at her sister the minute she did it. Before she could apologize, Barb leapt from her chair and scooped Lily into her arms.

“Get it together, Mac.”

Barb sat back down, Lily on her lap, her head buried in her mother's neck. She wasn't used to Mac losing it on her, and she clung to her mother like a baby koala who just saw a growling dingo. Barb stroked her back, all the while patting and cooing. She didn't look up from their cuddle fest but managed to wave her hand in the direction of the corner desk. “And take that envelope over there. It was leaning against the front door when I got in.”

Mac went and picked it up. Turning it over, she saw the RoadCap logo and under it, Frankie's handwriting.

This ought to get rid of that alien … see
you
soon … xxxooo F.

Mackenzie sloshed back the drops still left in her cup and said, “I gotta go.”