Hush Money (4 page)

She did, and they went on to the next one,
which Jill did.

“I don’t think she’s supposed to do that. I
think they’re supposed to memorize them.”

They both looked at me like I was some kind
of narc.

“She will. Eventually. Meanwhile, whatever
gets you through math class, right Warrior Princess?”

“Right! I’m gonna get this done ’causethen I
can play with my Barbies. You wanna stay and play Barbies when I
get done?”

“Um…I’ll stay for a while, but I’ll probably
have to go before Barbie time. Sorry.”

“Man, that’s tough,” I said. “Maybe some
other time.”

Dylan narrowed his eyes at me, but he was
smiling. Then it faded. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about what
happened in the cafeteria today.”

I felt myself go stiff. Dylan’s nice to my
sister and finally proves he’s a human. Great. But he was the last
person with whom I wanted to discuss my latest school-related
trauma. So I went into defense mode. “You want to know if it’s
true? Why, you got a sister?”

“Look, Marco’s an ass. No one disputes this;
I’ve just been around him so long that I’m used to it. I mean, he’s
also been a dick forever, so I guess I never expect him to grow up
and behave like a person.”

“If you came in here to apologize for
Marco—”

“I came to apologize for me. I should have
said something.”

Well, that was unexpected.
“Like
what?”

“Like, I don’t know. ‘Shut the hell up,
asshole,’ probably.” Then he grimaced. “Eyes on your homework, kid,
and keep your ears shut.” To me he said, “Sorry,” in a stage
whisper.

“I’m sure she’s heard worse. And if it’s that
easy, don’t worry about it. I’ll say it myself next time.”
Nothing’s ever that easy, but I did not want Dylan to pity me
because Marco picked on me. That was not the kind of attention I
wanted.

No attention was what I wanted, I had to
remind myself.

“I just wanted you to know—”

The security buzzer went off again, and we
all looked over to see Marco striding in.
Next customer, talking
gorilla. How about that?
His eyes scanned the store and when he
finally found Dylan, standing with us at the check out, he seemed
surprised and kinda pissed off.

“Hey, I thought we were meeting up at the
record store. What’re you doin’ in here?”

“I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

“Come over now. That hot chick from the
college is workin’ tonight.”

“I’ll be over in a few. Go ahead.”

“Why, you buyin’ something?”

“No, I’m talking to Joss.”

“Why?” he asked, like he’d rather shovel
horse dung than talk to me, a feeling which was entirely mutual.
“Look, Joss, you can come too. But I don’t think she’s quite your
type. Or, wait, you’d be the butch, right?”

“Shut the hell up, asshole,” was about all I
could think to say.

“You should come. Maybe she’d be into you. I
think I’d like to see that.”

“All right, that’s it. We’re leaving.” Dylan
came around the counter and grabbed Marco by the back of the neck.
It wasn’t a power play. Dylan’s a big guy and he’s taller, but
Marco’s big too, stocky. I was pretty sure he could have broken
Dylan’s hold easily, if he’d wanted to. Instead he’d gotten his way
and let Dylan guide him to the door. “Goodnight, Joss,” Dylan
called over his shoulder. “Bye, kid.” The door security gave out a
long buzz and the door swung shut again.

It was hard to see them past the glass
because it was dark outside and so bright inside, but I saw Marco
knock Dylan’s arm away.

“Do you think he likes me?” Jill asked.

“I think he’s too old for you.”

There was some intense conversation between
them for a few moments, and I saw Dylan give Marco a shove. Not
hard enough to throw him off balance, more like just to make a
point. I wondered what his point was.

“Do you think Dylan likes you?”

“No.”

Marco said something else, got the last word
in, and turned to walk across the bricks to Vinyl Salvation.

As always, Dylan followed.

* * *

Dylan

“What was that about?” Marco asked, breaking
my hold on his neck with an irritated shrug.

“None of your business.” At least, I hoped
Marco was going to see it that way. I’d let Marco run his mouth
about Joss for too long now, hoping he’d just get over it. So she’d
turned him down, so what? I was done keeping quiet while Marco
worked out his embarrassment or whatever it was. And as long as I
was going that far, I might as well be done keeping quiet about my
own interest in Joss. Maybe.

One thing at a time. I had other problems
with Marco and I didn’t really want to bring the whole Joss thing
into the middle of it. Then Marco’s eyes narrowed on me, and I knew
it was too late.

“You’ve got a thing for that fag-hag, don’t
you?”

“Cut that shit out, man.” Without thinking
about it, I spun on Marco and gave him a shove that pushed him back
a step.

I hadn’t meant to get physical. When we were
little kids we had gotten into a fight over some dumb thing and I’d
wound up in the hospital. It really scared both of us, and we
promised we were never going to fight again. And we hadn’t. An
apology was halfway out of my mouth before I bit it back. “I’m
getting really tired all the dyke bullshit, ok? It’s getting
old.”

“Whatever. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Somethin’s not right about that chick.”

Marco turned and headed for the music store.
I followed, thinking now was exactly the wrong time to bring up the
other thing, but I’d made up my mind to get it out tonight and
didn’t want to put it off any longer. Besides, when walking into a
store with Marco, who knew what he had in mind, or what would come
into his head as soon as he saw something he wanted?

“Marco, wait a minute. There’s something we
gotta talk about.”

“So talk.”

“Let’s hang out here for a minute.”

Marco rested his hand on the metal pull of
Vinyl Salvation’s plexiglass entry door. “What, you need a mocha
latté and a muffin? Spit it out.”

“I want out.”

That got Marco’s attention. He walked away to
the corner of the building, settled his back against the bricks,
and dug a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket.

“So talk,” he snapped when I leaned against
the wall beside him.

“That’s pretty much it. I don’t want to do it
anymore.”

Marco lit his cigarette, blew out smoke.
“Huh.”

“It was fun, seeing what we could do, what we
could get away with. But we’re not kids anymore. Swiping nickel and
dime shit was one thing, but—”

“We’re not kids anymore. It’s time for the
big stuff—the good stuff. Come on, what’s the big deal? You worried
about getting tried as an adult? How’re they going to catch
us?”

How’d they get Krista?
“Look, I just
don’t want to do it anymore, ok? I don’t get my rocks off being a
criminal. What you do is your business. Just leave me out of any
more of your big plans.”

Marco was quiet, staring at the smoke curling
from the end of his cigarette. I’d expected him to be angry, maybe
to shout at me about how much the group needed me, about how I was
letting the guys down because I was chicken-shit scared. Whatever
he was going to say to try to force me to continue, just to show
that I wasn’t dickless. But this quiet meant that Marco was
thinking, not just reacting.

I was afraid of my best friend. The knowledge
sat in my gut like lead. It was more than how I felt a little sick
every time he got pissed off about something, more than the start
it gave me every time he would give me a shake or a smack. That was
just how guys are around each other. It shouldn’t have been a big
deal. But it was. I had been on the receiving end of that temper
once, and I had seen it doled out on someone else. Even knowing
that the someone else deserved it, the power of Marco’s rage had
stuck with me so hard that it had been coloring my actions ever
since.

How long had I known what kind of person
Marco was becoming and just ignored it? He’d been my best friend
practically my whole life. We’d been so close for so long now, that
it was like having a brother you couldn’t stand, but you’d beat the
shit out of anybody who messed with him. If I went with my
conscience and stood my ground, would Marco continue to protect me,
or throw me to the wolves?

He clapped me on the shoulder, almost making
me jump, and flicked the cigarette butt out onto the bricks. I
wondered if he knew the effect that had on me. “Like you said
earlier, it’s best if we lay low for a while. You’re right, and we
will. But when the time comes, I need you on this. You know I do. I
need you to have my back, same way I’ve always got yours. Anything
for a friend, right? Anyway, we can talk about this later. Now come
on. College girl’s been waiting for me.”

Joss

“…and then Sarah’s milk
finally
came
in—”

“Mo-om…”

“What?”

“TMI. Geez. Let’s just leave out any details
regarding feeding and digestion, because I swear, if you start
describing its poops, I am so out of here.”

“Joss, don’t you want to hear about your baby
cousin’s poops?”

“I’m getting my jacket.”

“Fine,” Mom said airily, gathering up the
baby photos she had spread out on the counter. “No more baby
talk.”

I felt kind of guilty for cutting her off.
But I’d already gotten out of bed early on a Saturday to help out
at the store and, on top of that, listened to way more details
about childbirth and babies than I cared to. There was a limit to
daughterly devotion. “You should try Jill. She likes to talk about
poop.”

“Good plan. So,” Mom glanced at me, “anything
interesting happen while I was gone?”

“I’m sure Dad told you.”

“He did. You okay, sweetie?”

“Sure. Krista was in some of my classes, but
I didn’t really know her. I was surprised. I didn’t know she could
do anything. Guess we’ll probably never find out what her Talent
was. There doesn’t seem to be much gossip going around.”

“Your dad doesn’t know anything either. He
doesn’t know how they knew about Krista, and that’s what’s got him
most upset.”

“How upset is he?” This was code for:
How
close is he to completely freaking out?

Mom’s expression tightened, but she kept a
smile on and her voice easy. “I think he’s okay. It definitely
bothers him that no one seems to know about any incident where
Krista might have exposed her secret. He thinks that means someone
she knew turned her in, probably someone she trusted.”

There was code here too.
This is why your
dad doesn’t want you to get too close to people. This is why we
have to be so careful. I wish it didn’t have to be like this, but
it’s only because we love you.

The front door buzzed, so I took the
opportunity to wander away and straighten up. Business started to
pick up, and I was busy for the next few hours, cleaning,
restocking, and helping customers.

Just before noon I rang up a purchase, handed
over the bag, and thanked the customer. When the man walked away he
revealed that Kat had been standing behind him.

“Well hi!” She looked out of place in the
Army Navy store with her trendy, colorful outfit and bouncy
hair.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Do you get a lunch break? I was thinking we
could hang out.”

“You…were?” Was the store ground zero for
random acts of social this week, or was it just more of me as a
plaything for the Random Amusements of the Universe?

“Is this your mom? Hi, I’m Kat Dawson.” She
turned to Mom and stuck out her hand over the counter.

“Joan Marshall. It’s nice to meet you, Kat. I
guess you know Joss from school?”

“She hasn’t mentioned me. She doesn’t talk
much, does she?”

Mom smiled. “No, I guess she doesn’t.”

“Well, I talk a lot. And as I’m in need of
someone to talk at today, I came to take Joss out to lunch.”

“Oh! Well. That sounds nice.” Mom tried
unsuccessfully to cover her surprise. “Go ahead, honey, get your
jacket.”

“Um…shouldn’t I stay here with you? It’s been
kind of busy.”

“Um…no,” Mom actually mocked me, “you should
go out with your friend and have a nice time. Your father and I can
handle any midday rush. He should be here any minute.” This last
was said with a gentle emphasis that meant:
So go while you can
and before your dad starts asking questions about your
friend.

As much as I was not interested in Kat’s
lunch plans, I really didn’t want to have Dad give either of us the
third degree.

We ended up at the Pizza Pit. No big surprise
there. It was close to the shop, and that’s where kids—and other
people sometimes—go to eat. We got slices because they get those
out fast.

“Relax,” Kat told me, popping the top on her
soda can. “I’m not going to ask you about you—yet. Tell me about
Krista.”

My soda almost came out my nose.
Direct
much?
“Um, I didn’t really know Krista.”

“That’s not a huge surprise. You’re not
exactly ambassador material. But you do pay attention. You’re not
right in it, but you’re watching. All the time. You think a
lot.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. It freaked
me out to know that someone was noticing me. Analyzing me.

“Look, everyone’s really worked up about
Krista. You can feel it, you know? But no one’s
talking
about it. I asked a few questions and people got really weird about
it. So I get that we’re not supposed to talk about it.”

“So why are you trying to talk to me about
it?”

She leaned back, sipped from her can, and
said in a careless, joking tone, “Because even if you think I’m out
of line, or suspicious, or whatever it is people think around here
for
wanting
to talk about it, who’re you gonna tell?”