Harmonic Feedback (23 page)

“Justin was teaching me how to play piano.”

“Don’t you have homework to do?”

“I finished most of it at school.”

“Well, come on, then. It’s getting cold.” She headed back up the steps, leaving the door open. “Juliana!”

I tucked my hair behind my ear and stared hard at my hands. They were still shaking. “Um, sorry. You should probably go, but…”

He moved closer to me again. “But?”

“I don’t really want you to.”

Grandma yelled for my mom again.

“What?” Mom asked. It sounded like they were moving into the kitchen.

“Andrea is down there alone. With that boy.” Even my grandma’s whispers carried.

“Oh, for Christ sake, Mom. So what?”

The corner of Justin’s mouth curved up, but he covered it.

“Go ahead and laugh,” I said. “My grandma is a freak.”

“I’m sorry if I got you in trouble,” he said.

Mom jogged down the stairs before I could answer. She grinned when she caught me smoothing my hair back. “Hey, Justin.”

He smiled and waved at her.

“Sorry about my mom,” she said. “She doesn’t mean to be rude. She’s just—”

“It’s cool,” he said, glancing at me. “I get it.”

“You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

He studied my face before answering. “Sure, okay. Thanks.”

Mom winked at me before turning around and heading back upstairs. My face burned.

“My grandma’s cooking is really bad. I mean, like mushy vegetables and stuffed pork chops bad.”

Justin put his hand over mine, tangling our fingers together. “I grew up with a bad cook, remember? I can handle it.”

I twirled my spoon in Grandma’s version of vegetable stew. This included no salt, gravy like water, and a bitter aftertaste. She’d chosen twelve-grain bread as a side dish. It was untoasted and stale around the edges.

Grandma discussed the art of grocery store coupons with Mom, while Justin and I took turns kicking and dodging each other’s feet. My stomach fluttered every time I caught his eye.

“I warned you,” I said, motioning to his barely touched stew.

He put a finger to his mouth and shook his head.

“That’s a nice car you have out there, Justin,” Grandma said. “Are you going to pay your parents back for it?”

He swallowed a chunk of potato. “It was a birthday gift.”

“How about some salt?” Mom asked, frowning at the stew.

“You’re past forty now,” Grandma said. “Menopause is right around the corner. Sodium is the last thing you need.”

Justin used that moment to wipe his mouth, but his eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Your candor is always appreciated, Mother.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed the salt from the cabinet.

Grandma nodded at Justin. “Who pays for your insurance?”

“I do.”

“How old are you—sixteen?”

“Seventeen.”

“Your rates must be sky high.” She then launched into a lecture about the auto industry and insurance rates. Grandma loved to educate people about money, even though she’d always been a homemaker.

Justin smiled and nodded like he was interested the entire time. It was pretty impressive. Usually I left the room after about two minutes.

“Nobody cares,” I said finally. Anything to stop her from squawking for a few seconds.

Grandma jabbed her finger at me. “You’ll care when you start paying for it.”

“She has a point,” Justin said to me, knocking his foot into mine.

“Let’s see. No license. Not exactly a pressing matter at the moment.”

“It will be soon,” he said.

“How’s she doing?” Mom asked, salting her stew for the fourth time.

“Really well. We drove around downtown yesterday. Maybe we’ll try the freeway this weekend.”

I nearly choked on a bite of bread. “Do you have a death wish?”

Mom chuckled. “Just don’t drive like Grandma and you’ll be fine.”

Justin crinkled his brow at me, and I laughed. “Grandma knows two speeds,” I said. “Zero and eighty.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, puckering his lips. “Nice.”

Grandma shook her head. “I’ve never gotten a ticket.” She snatched her bowl from the table and rinsed it in the sink.

Then Justin offered to do the dishes for some ungodly reason.

“Why are you being so nice to my grandma?” I asked, walking him to his car twenty minutes later. The cool wind painted my arms with goose bumps.

“I had about two bites of her stew—or whatever that was. I felt bad.”

“She would’ve made me do the dishes anyway. It’s not like you were saving her the trouble.”

He leaned against the driver’s door of his car. “Then you’re welcome.”

I glanced at the dim lights of Naomi’s house. Her father’s SUV wasn’t in the driveway. “I hope Naomi’s dad didn’t let her down this time.”

“Does he do that a lot?”

I told him about meeting her dad and what Naomi said afterward. “She really scared me last weekend.”

Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “You’re a good friend. I wish I’d had someone like you back home.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

He gave me a soft smile. “Just keep being you.”

“That doesn’t help much.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“What would you say?”

He shrugged. “I think I can relate to where her head is at right now. And it doesn’t seem like she has anyone to talk to about it. Look at the lyrics she wrote.”

“She has me.”

Justin shifted his weight. “Yeah, but you’re so…”

I folded my arms across my stomach. “Clueless?”

“I was going to say levelheaded. Naomi’s in a place that’s hard to understand unless you’ve been there, and I think she knows that.” He looked toward her driveway. “She may not even want to talk to me. But I’ll try.”

“When?”

“How about tomorrow? We’ll tell her you have plans after school, and I’ll ask her if she wants to hang out at Café Mars or something.”

“Why can’t I come?”

“It’s better if I talk to her one-on-one—trust me. The members of my old band talked to me all at once, and it felt like a fucking intervention. Didn’t go over real well.” He looked down at his feet. “To say the least.”

“Oh.” The idea of Justin and Naomi going out alone bothered me. I felt left out of something important, but I wanted Naomi to feel better. “Isn’t telling her about your past going to be hard?”

He exhaled, studying my face. “It was harder telling you.”

I hugged myself tighter. What was that supposed to mean?

“Can you have your mom pick you up?”

My stomach tensed. “She has to work. It’ll have to be Grandma.”

“Hey, come here.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. The copper hue of streetlights shone in his eyes. “I’d much rather have you there.”

I looked away, unsure of where to put my hands. On his shoulders seemed too much like dancing. And I definitely wasn’t going to grab his butt.

He tilted my chin upward and ran his thumb along my cheek. I slowly met his stare again. He smiled and kissed me. My head spun and my knees shook, but somehow I managed to stay upright. His tongue brushed against mine, and I pushed back, wondering if that was what he wanted. The whole idea of mingling tongues baffled me. When he paused, I figured I’d done something wrong and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Why?” he whispered and tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear.

“I don’t know how to do this, okay? Naomi is the only other person I’ve kissed. And it wasn’t like this.” I looked away again, wanting to smack myself. Now he knew everything. But at least he was almost as clueless in the romance department.

“It’s different with every person.”

“You’ve only kissed that one girl, right?”

His smile faded. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.” Because I hated feeling like such a dork.

“I’ve kissed a few people.”

“How many?”

He let go of my waist. “I didn’t keep a tally, Drea.”

“I thought you were more like me.”

“We’re a lot alike. We’re both stubborn geeks with superb taste in music.” He reached for me.

I backed away.

His head tilted back, like he was searching the stars for answers. Too bad it was cloudy. “I’m far from perfect, Drea. So if you want to walk away right now, I don’t blame you. But I really like you. Everything about you.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but every question I had blurred together in a mass of gibberish.

He leaned over and gave me a quick hug. “Just let me know what you decide.”

It wasn’t until after he drove off that I found the words. I stood frozen for a while, letting the drizzle melt into my cheeks, and they came to me. Simple, but more truthful than anything else I could say.

Thank you.

I
T WAS OFFICIAL
. Rummaging through dusty boxes at seven
A.M.
on a Saturday stunk.

Mom hummed “Bus Stop” and grinned like a kid discovering a secret attic. Don, the dentist, was picking her up at nine and whisking her off to the San Juan Islands for a romantic weekend.

“Do you realize we can get a hantavirus and die from breathing in mouse turds?” I asked her.

She rolled her eyes and unwrapped some figurines. “It’s just dirt, Drea.”

I adjusted the flimsy breathing mask I’d found in Grandma’s closet. We sat in her freezing garage, placing various items on fold-out tables. Grandma would poke her head in every ten minutes or so to decide whether or not to sell them.

“Craigslist would be much easier. Who actually goes to garage sales anymore?”

Mom smiled. “People like Grandma. What’s really bugging you today?”

I flipped through an ancient calendar and shrugged. Justin had said about three words to me yesterday. I didn’t get a single moment alone with him because we had a quiz in English, and Naomi spent lunch planning a move to New York City. Neither of them called me last night.

“Grandma said she had to pick you up from school yesterday. How come?”

“Justin took Naomi out so he could talk to her about stuff.”

She wiped some dust off a green vase and frowned. “I thought Justin liked you.”

I looked at the concern in her dark eyes, and an ache formed in my throat. I still wanted to tell her what Naomi did at the mall and about Scott. She might’ve known what to do, but I knew it would scare her. Maybe enough to not let me hang out with Naomi again.

She squatted next to me and gave me a hug, stroking my hair. “Talk to me, sweetie.”

I breathed in the scent of her favorite shampoo. It always smelled a little like bubblegum. And that did it. I just started talking. About Naomi’s situation and Justin’s past. About how I felt sick every time I thought about last weekend.

Her eyes searched my face, and she gave me a weak smile. “I’m proud of you.”

That wasn’t what I expected to hear. “Why?”

“Because you knew what Naomi did was wrong and you had the guts to tell her that. You stuck by her and tried to help, even when you were scared.”

“But I just let it happen.”

“Yes, but now you know not to put yourself in that situation again. You can’t stop Naomi from stealing or dating the wrong guy. It’s not your job to be her mom.” She ruffled my hair. “Just like it isn’t your job to be mine.”

“Do you think she’ll stay away from Scott?”

Mom sighed and sat cross-legged on a throw rug. “I hope so. I know with me—I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. The idea of love blinds me. I see qualities that aren’t there because I want them to be there. I want to trust their words because it hurts too much not to. I look at your grandma and I think, How can she live like this? But I also envy her. She’s not afraid to be alone. I think Naomi and I need a little dose of that.”

“You just made sense.”

Mom laughed. “Well, that’s pretty rare, huh? We should celebrate.”

“Are you still going to let me hang out with Naomi?”

She sighed. “I’m not going to lie. I’ll be watching you more closely—asking where you’re going. No more sleepovers at Naomi’s. I want you home by midnight on weekends. And I want to talk to her dad.”

“No! She’ll hate me.”

“She’s going to get herself into a lot of trouble. I can’t sit back and do nothing in good conscience. Her dad needs to know what’s going on.”

“She promised me she would stop.”

“And I have no doubt she means well, Drea. But we can’t count on that. In the meantime, keep making music. Listen to her if she wants to talk. I think Justin will help look out for her too.” She poked my arm. “Grandma likes him, by the way. And he must like you an awful lot to have listened to her go on the other night. Trust me, not many of my boyfriends were so patient with her.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I turned my attention to another box, digging at the contents. “Does his past bother you?”

“I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me a little nervous. But I think it’s great that he’s being honest about it. Does it bother
you
?”

“No. I like him—I mean, he’s becoming a good friend.”

She smirked. “He’s quite the cutie.”

I rolled my eyes. “Mom, please!” The thought of seeing him later today terrified me. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself again.