Inferno (20 page)

“That's okay.” Parker's voice is stiff and she isn't looking at me or my mom. “I have to get home anyway.”

I scramble out of bed. “Parker, it's okay. You don't have to go.”

She shakes her head. “I guess I'll talk to you later.”

And that's it. Just like that, she's gone. I don't say anything until I hear the front door slam shut. Then I turn to my mother. “Nice going, Mom. Happy now?”

“That's not fair,” she protests. “I didn't mean for her to hear me.”

“Are you sure about that?” A part of me knows I'm being unreasonable, that what I'm saying isn't totally accurate, but I can't stop myself. “Because it sure was convenient, wasn't it? She's gone, and you get to pretend it's not your fault at all.”

She tugs her cardigan down and smoothes the knitted fabric over her hips. “I told her she was welcome to stay.”

My voice is getting louder. “Yeah, and then you called her messed up.”

“I didn't say that.”

“Oh right. You just said she had big problems. Totally different.”

“Drop the sarcasm.” Mom steps inside my room. Her face is pink and two white lines have appeared by her nostrils, always a sure sign that she's seriously pissed off. “That's enough. You are in plenty of trouble already, don't you think? Sneaking out at night to hang out with a bunch of...a bunch of
delinquents
...I swear, Emily, I don't know what I've done to deserve this kind of...” She breaks off and shakes her head, lips pressed together in a thin hard line.

“This kind of daughter? Is that what you were going to say? Because it's totally obvious that's how you feel. You didn't get the kind of daughter you wanted. You didn't get a pretty, perfect little girl who just wants to fit in, no matter what.”

She shakes her head and doesn't say anything for a minute. Then she takes a deep breath, loud enough that I can actually hear her do it. “Emily...”

“I'm not Emily,” I yell. “I'm not Emily and I
can't
be Emily, okay? So...so...” My voice is suddenly choked with tears, but I can't cry—I refuse to cry—so I just stop talking and try to swallow despite the knife-like pain in my throat.

There's a long silence. I stare down at my bedspread and watch the colors swim in a blur of soft pastel. My heart is
pounding, and I don't know what to say. I'm not even sure exactly what we are fighting about. Nothing. Everything. I keep hearing the sound of Parker's feet running down the hall and the front door slamming behind her. Running back to Jamie.

“I just don't understand why you didn't talk to me,” Mom says at last. “About these boys or about your friend and her problems.Why do you always feel like you have to deal with everything on your own?”

She doesn't sound angry anymore. She sounds sort of defeated, and I am suddenly flooded with guilt. I rub my hands over my eyes and look up at her. “Mom...”

She ignores me. “You never did tell me anything, even when you were little. You always said everything was fine, and then I'd find out from your teacher that you were getting teased, or that you'd fallen and hurt yourself, or whatever. I used to think you didn't trust me. Is that it? Is that why you snuck out in the night instead of coming to us?”

“It's not about you,” I tell her. “I just didn't think of it.”

She sighs. “That's what your dad always told me when you were small too. That you were just too damn independent to ask for help.”

I can't believe she just said “damn.” She never swears.

Neither of us says anything for a minute. It's not like we've resolved anything; it's more like we both just ran out of energy for fighting, or maybe we realized there was no point to it. Finally she shrugs. “I have to go to work,” she says.

I've agreed to spend the day studying. It goes without saying that I'm grounded.

I try to work on my English paper, the one about Tess. It's basically done. It just needs a conclusion, a snappy ending, something to sum it all up. And I can't think of one. It's all too complicated to explain in a few neat lines. Besides, I can't concentrate. All I can think about is Parker: how she seemed when I first met her, all cocky and sure of herself; the way she always said what she thought; the way she acted as if no challenge was insurmountable; the way she seemed to believe we could do anything, change anything, as long as we threw ourselves into it hard enough; the way she didn't believe in brick walls.

I know Mom sees her as messed up because she doesn't go to school and doesn't live at home, but that isn't how I see it. I think that Parker just got dealt a lousy hand and that she did what she needed to do to get through it all. She made choices that were right for her. But Jamie...that's a choice I can't understand. I can't see it as a good thing, even though Parker says it was. I picture her quick grin and the way her skin crinkles around her eyes when she laughs. How can someone be so smart and so together, and yet so screwed up, all at the same time?

I spend half the morning on the Internet, reading.
Teens and Dating Violence. Understanding the Cycle of Abuse. Is someone you know in an Abusive Relationship? Spot the Warning Signs
. I read about power and control and gender stereotypes and intergenerational patterns. I read about low self-esteem, about post-traumatic stress, about denial. I read that girls stay with abusive guys because they are scared to leave, because they think the abuse is a sign of love, because they think the guy will change, because they don't have healthy role models, because they are socially isolated, because the abuse has eroded their self- confidence and ability to trust their own judgment.

In the end, I shut my laptop and stare out the window. It all makes sense and none of it makes sense. None of it is enough to help me understand Parker.

I'm still sitting there
, sort of thinking and sort of drifting, when the doorbell rings.
Parker
. I run down the stairs two at a time, slide the dead bolt and throw the front door open.

It's Leo. He shifts from one foot to the other like he's not quite sure what he's doing here. “I figured you'd probably be home. Not at school, I mean.”

No shit. “You want to come in?” I say, stepping back a little.

He follows me to the kitchen. I grab a couple cans of Coke—Dad's big vice—and sit down at the table. “So.”

“Yeah.” He takes a can from me and opens it.
Click-tttssss
. The noise seems too loud in this big silent house. “I guess you heard? About Jamie?”

“Uh-huh. Is he...?” I don't know what I'm asking. Is he in jail, I guess. I don't know how these things work. “Is he back home then? Or...”

“Yeah, he's home. He's got a court date when he has to appear.” Leo tilts his head back and drinks; his Adam's apple bobs up and down in his skinny throat.

“Jeez.”

“I know.” He sets the can on the table in front of him and lifts it up and down a few times, moving it around, making a pattern of intersecting wet circles on the glass surface of the table. “I guess I should say thanks. If you and Parker hadn't showed up...I mean, I'd probably have got busted too. Would've killed my parents, you know? And they don't have the money to hire some fancy lawyer.”

“Do Jamie's?”

He nods. “They already have, according to Parker.”

His eyes are locked onto mine in that way he has, that intense gaze Parker used to tease him about. Used to. Everything feels like it's in past tense now. I clear my throat. “It all got kind of fucked up, didn't it? What happened, Leo?”

“I don't know. I've been asking myself that same thing.” He hasn't shaved, and in the sunlight streaming through the windows I can see the glint of blondish brown stubble across his cheeks and chin. “After you climbed your school that night, and we talked about GRSS and Mr. Lawson and all that stuff, it got me thinking. Remembering things that happened a few years ago.”

I nod. I know about it from Linnea, but I don't want to tell him that.

He drops his gaze, spins the Coke can around and almost spills it. “Shit.” He sets it back upright. “It wasn't a good time for me.”

“That's okay, Leo. I mean, you don't have to talk about it if you don't...”

“I should've told you,” he says. “If I'd told you, maybe I wouldn't have ended up spilling it all to Jamie just because we had a few drinks.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yeah. And he was all sympathetic. Man, he's a chameleon, that guy. He was all
Yeah man, that totally sucks, have another drink
. Then next thing I know, he's like
Let's burn the fucker down
.”

“GRSS.”

He nods. “I should've walked away. I don't know why I didn't.”

“He was your friend,”I say.

“Yeah.” He traces a wet line on the table with one finger. “And when I tried to say it maybe wasn't a good idea, he just threw it all back in my face. All the stuff I'd told him.”

I swallow hard. Guessing. Knowing. “He called you a fag.”

“Yeah.” He looks straight at me. “I'm not queer, you know. But I used to get that shit a lot when I was a kid. Beat up, called names. I don't know why.”

“Leo?”

“Yeah.”

“I am. Queer, I mean.” It's easier to say this time.

His eyebrows lift but he doesn't look away, not even for a second. “Yeah? Shit. I didn't know that.”

“No. Well, I haven't exactly told a lot of people.”

Then he laughs. “Guess maybe I shouldn't have kissed you that night then.”

“That's okay. If I liked guys, you'd probably be the kind of guy I'd like. If that makes any sense.”

“I guess that's a compliment, right? To be honest, I haven't had much luck with relationships lately.” He pulls a baggie out of his pocket and starts rolling a joint right there on my mom's kitchen table. “Mainly because I've spent the last year totally hung up on someone who's determined to waste her life being in love with an asshole.”

“Um, you can't smoke in here,” I say. Then I realize what he's just said. “Sorry. Delayed hearing. Are you talking about...?”

“Parker? Yeah. She's the main reason I've stuck around.” He licks the rolling paper. “I've been a fucking idiot. Just been kidding myself, I guess.”

I stare at him. I don't know whether to laugh or cry. He holds the joint up. “Can we go in your backyard or something?”

I nod and get up, lead the way through the house and out the sliding glass doors and sit down beside him on the back steps. Out of sight of the neighbors, hopefully. “Leo?”

“Yeah.” He lights up and squints at me through the smoke.

The smoke wafts my way, and it is definitely not tobacco. I glance over toward the house next door. Hopefully everyone is at work. “You meant what you said back there? About how you feel about Parker?”

Leo nods. “Can't help it. Waste of my time, obviously.
When you came along...” He breaks off and laughs.“Well, you know what they say.”

“What?”

“The best way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else.”

I give a startled laugh. Sometimes I think I'm almost as uptight as my mother.

“Sorry. I was just kidding, but I guess that was a bit crass.”

“No, it's okay. I get it.”

“I liked you, Dante. I mean, I still do. I thought we had a good connection, you know? But Parker...Shit. I don't know what it is about her.”

“I know.”

“Yeah.” He takes a drag and taps the ash off into the tidily mowed green grass.

“Leo?” I swallow nervously. My heart is racing and my hands are wet, but I have to talk to someone about her. “I mean, I really do know. About Parker. I kind of...well, I kind of feel the same way about her.”

He nods slowly like that doesn't surprise him at all. Like he figures anyone who knew Parker would feel the same way. He leans down, butts out the joint on the ground and carefully puts the little papery end bit into his pocket. “Did you tell her?” he asks at last.

“Yeah.” My cheeks are hot. “Last night.”

“Was she cool with it?”

I thought about it. “Pretty cool. I guess. She didn't freak out or anything.”

“But...”

“Yeah. She's straight. She's with Jamie. I'm an idiot for thinking anything else.”

Leo puts his arm around me and gives me a sideways hug. “I'm sorry. Of course, if you managed to get anywhere with her, I'd probably have to kill you. But...I really am sorry. If I had to pick, I'd rather see her with you than Jamie.” He sighs. “Unrequited love. It sucks.”

“She kissed me.” I blurt it out. I don't know why I feel like I have to tell him this, but I want to come clean. It's like we're in this together now, in a weird way. Parker is so out of our reach that we're not even competition for each other—we're just fellow sufferers.

“No shit?” He pulls back and looks at me. For a second I think maybe I shouldn't have told him. Then he shakes his head slowly. I can see a muscle in his jaw tighten and release, tighten and release. “I don't want to sound like I'm bad-mouthing her. I'm crazy about Parker, you know that. Right?”

“Yeah.” I want to know where he's going with this.

“I went over there one time, months and months ago. She and Jamie had been fighting. She was alone, crying and freaking out.” He shrugs. “We had a few drinks. I told her how I felt about her. It was dumb, I guess, but I was hoping she and Jamie were through. I was hoping if she knew how I felt...” He shrugs again, lifting his skinny shoulders and dropping them like the weight is too much. “I wanted to take care of her, you know?”

“Yeah.”
God, do I ever

“Next thing I know...well.” He looks down at his feet, crosses one ankle over the other.