Jumping Off Swings (6 page)

Dave shrugs like he doesn’t really care either way. “Too bad she never comes to parties anymore. What’d you do to her, Josh? Scare her into celibracy?”

“It’s
celibacy,
you idiot. And I didn’t do anything to her. Jesus.”

But I still keep seeing the way she looked at me that night when I left her by herself. I stand up. “Let’s get outta here.”

I don’t know where I want to go — just away from this place. Away from talking about all this shit.

We put the empties under my bed and walk quietly to the kitchen for more. Then we head out, holding the cans in the pockets of our jackets.

It’s freezing outside.

We climb into Dave’s car and crank up the heat. We drive around, playing loud music and not talking. Just drinking and thinking. Together and alone at the same time.

“W
HAT SHOULD WE DO?
” Corinne asks me.

I’m pacing back and forth with the phone pressed hard against my ear, wishing this was a bad joke.

“Are you sure? Did she go to a doctor? Or take a test?” My palms are sweating.

“Ellie says she just knows.”

“But — how did it happen? Didn’t they use anything?”

“Ellie thinks the condom slipped off or broke. She said she could feel — you know. Stuff. After. Like —”

“I get it. I get it. I don’t need the details.” I press my palm against my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut.

“When will she tell Josh?” I ask.

Corinne sighs. “Forget about Josh, OK? Ellie doesn’t want him to know.”

“But don’t you think he —”

“Caleb, focus. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, we have to get Ellie to take care of it. Soon.”

“Maybe if we told Josh, he could help. I mean, he could at least pay —”

“You think Josh cares?”

“He would if he knew! God, Corinne. He’s not as bad as you think he is.”

“Whatever. Look. If she’s just going to get rid of it, why tell him? Wouldn’t he be better off never knowing? Not that I care, by the way. I don’t think he deserves anything, after what he did to Ellie.”

I stop pacing. “What do you mean, ‘what he did to her’?”

She sighs again. “Uh, he
used
her? Like all those other losers? All Ellie wanted was a boyfriend. Someone who actually cared about her. Those pricks totally took advantage of her. And Josh just left her alone outside that night. He probably didn’t even notice that she never came back to the party. I’m the one who found her outside — getting sick!”

The wind rattles my window because my mom and I never got around to replacing the broken storm. But I’m not cold. I’m sweating. I place my hand on the frosty glass to stop the noise.

“Josh told me that he freaked out,” I say. “He — he said he was embarrassed after. He didn’t mean to leave her.” But I know how lame I sound.

“Just forget it,” Corinne says. “We need to focus on the current situation.”

I take my hand away from the glass, leaving a clear print where I melted the frost. I curl my wet fingers into my palm and make a fist. Why did Josh have to be so
stupid
?

“I’m off to class!” my mom calls from the other side of my door. “Be back later!”

I don’t bother to answer.

“Is your mom going out?” Corinne asks.

“Yeah. She’s teaching an art class tonight. Why?”

“I thought I could come over.” She sounds a little nervous. “To talk.”

“Uh, sure.” I look around at my messy room. I’m sure the rest of the house isn’t in much better shape. “When?”

“How about now?”

“Um, OK.”

“Great. See you soon.”

I hang up after she clicks off. I should probably race downstairs to pick up the house, but instead I sit down on the edge of my bed and look out the window. It’s gray outside and getting dark. We’re supposed to get our first snow tonight.

I get up and go to the bookcase. I reach behind the old Narnia books and feel around until my fingers touch Ellie’s old Porsche. It’s dusty, and smaller than I remember. I turn it over in my hands and open the small doors, like I used to do when I was little. I remember the day Ellie gave it to me, like it was no big deal. She just smiled at me and said I could have it. I didn’t even offer her anything in return. She did it just to be nice.

The wind rattles the window again. My handprint is already frosting up. I put the car back in its hiding spot and go downstairs to wait for Corinne.

W
HEN I DRIVE PAST
ELLIE’S HOUSE
on my way to Caleb’s, I slow way down. This isn’t right, going over to Caleb’s to talk about Ellie. If I really want to help, I should take her with me. I pull over and call.

“I’m coming to get you,” I say.

“Why?”

“Because. Now get ready. I’m going to be at the door in like one minute.”

Ellie’s mom looks surprised to see me when she opens the door.

“Corinne! We haven’t seen you in ages!” She actually touches my arm. “Ellie! It’s Corinne!”

Things must be really bad here if Ellie’s mother is this happy to see me.

Ellie surfaces at the top of the stairs. She walks slowly. She looks pale.

Her mom looks at me expectantly, as if I’m going to make everything better. She obviously doesn’t have a clue what’s really bothering Ellie, though it’s clear she knows
something’s
wrong.

When Ellie finally makes it down the stairs, I practically put her coat on for her as we walk out the door to the car. Her mother waves at us as if we’re going to the prom and I am Ellie’s dream date. I force myself to smile and wave back.

Ellie rolls down the window as we pull out of the driveway. I forgot to air out my mom’s car on the way over, and it smells like an ashtray. Spits of snow sprinkle the windshield and dart into Ellie’s open window, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me?” she finally asks.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Why?”

“’Cause you need cheering up.”

“I need more than that.”

“I know.”

We drive in silence, letting the heater blow hot air at our faces, until I find Caleb’s street. It’s a side street, walking distance from the park, just like all of our houses. I used to say Ellie’s name really loudly whenever we passed Caleb’s house to embarrass her because we knew Caleb had a crush on her. We thought that was so funny back then.

Back then. It was only last summer.

Caleb’s house is tall and narrow. Strings of colored lights all around the porch give it a warm glow.

When we pull into the driveway, Ellie sits forward and looks over the dash. “This is Caleb’s house.”

“Yup. This is your surprise.”

She sits back in her seat. “I don’t get it.”

“I like him. I mean, not
like
him, like him. Just, you know, as friends. Since my house is lame, and we can’t hang out at your house, and the park is too cold, I figured this was the next best place.”

Ellie rolls her eyes. “I want to go home.”

“Not a choice,” I say. I get out of the car. Ellie stays put, so I go around to the other side and open her door. Now I really feel like her date.

“Come
on,
” I say, and drag her out.

Caleb opens the door before we even knock. He jumps when he sees Ellie.

“Hi!” he says nervously. He looks at Ellie as if she’s one of those breakable ornaments he shouldn’t touch.

“Decided to bring a date,” I tell him.

“Cool,” Caleb says. “Hey.”

Ellie gives him a bashful smile.

“Come on in.”

The house smells like homemade bread. Caleb takes our coats, and we follow him into a tiny living room. There are so many paintings, you can hardly see the walls. There are canvases without frames, some just different shades of the same color, mostly blue.

Above the couch, there’s a painting of a pair of hands cupped together in the shape of a heart. Coming out of them is the head of a little curly-haired cherub. I step closer to look. The cherub looks like Caleb. I bet the hands are his mom’s.

In the corner is another portrait of a man. All his features are distorted, like a Picasso. He has a faraway look on his face. His mouth is closed, and in the corner there’s a small hand reaching out to him, but it’s like he doesn’t see it. Ellie comes up behind me and looks at him, too. There’s something about his eyes that makes you not want to look away.

Caleb notices us staring. “Want to sit? Something to drink?” he asks.

“Who is he?” Ellie asks quietly.

“Just some guy my mom knew,” Caleb says. He fidgets nervously with the seam of his T-shirt. “Want some hot chocolate or something?”

“Do I smell bread?” I ask. Something about the painting is clearly bothering him.

Ellie starts to reach her hand toward the man’s face.

“Yeah, fresh bread in the kitchen,” he says.

I put my arm around Ellie and steer her away. We follow Caleb into the kitchen, which is small and crowded. There’s an island in the middle with bright-colored pots hanging overhead. We sit at stools around the island while Caleb gets the bread out of a bread maker. It smells even better close up.

He’s about to cut a slice when the front door opens. A tall, thin woman carrying a portfolio struggles into the hall.

“Hello?” she calls.

“In here,” Caleb says. “Why are you back so early?”

“Snow,” she says. “You know how my car is in this stuff. I didn’t want to wait for the roads to get worse.” She pulls off a long wool coat as she comes toward us and drapes it over a chair. There are specks of blue paint on her cheek and even in her spiky hair. But even though she’s messy, there’s a touch of elegance about her. She’s wearing a black turtleneck and paint-spattered jeans.

“This is my mom, Liz,” Caleb says. “You remember, Ellie, Mom. And this is Corinne.”

“Lovely to meet you,” she says. “Ellie, I haven’t seen you in a million years! You’re all grown up!”

Ellie blushes. “It’s nice to see you again,” she says.

“You girls have all-wheel drive? I’d hate to see you driving in this stuff.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” I say. “My mom’s car is great in the snow.”

She nods, then eyes the bread. “Here, let me fix that the right way for you. It’s my specialty.” She steps past us and grabs a stick of butter out of the fridge. Then she reaches for a tiny red pot from the rack above us. She melts the butter on the stove while Caleb cuts thick slices of the cinnamon raisin bread and puts them on plates for all of us. When the butter melts, Liz pours it over the bread, then sprinkles cinnamon sugar over the top. The sugar turns dark brown as it sinks into the butter.

“Dig in,” she says, sliding plates at us.

The warm butter and cinnamon melt the bread in my mouth. I don’t want to swallow, it tastes so good. I only once, very briefly, think about looking like a pig in front of Caleb.

Ellie keeps smiling at Caleb’s mom while we eat. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look happy in months. Her cheeks are pink, and wisps from her ponytail settle across her face in this pretty way that — I can’t help it — makes me feel kind of jealous.

When we’re full, we go back to the living room. Liz sits cross-legged on their deep purple couch, right under the cherub painting. She pats the space next to her, and Ellie takes it. I sit in the only other chair available, so Caleb takes the floor.

“It’s so nice to have company,” Liz says. “Caleb doesn’t bring friends home very often.”

Poor Caleb looks like he wants to hide under the coffee table.

Liz asks us about a hundred questions. We tell her how Ellie and I have been best friends since the second grade, and how we all have homeroom together. How we can’t stand our history teacher because he makes us read
Time
magazine every week and gives us a quiz on it. Liz scoffs and tells us we should be reading
The Nation.
Caleb asks her not to start.

Liz feels like the aunt I always wish I had. We barely know her, but I feel like I could tell her anything. She’s the kind of person who looks at you when you’re talking and asks you questions as if she really cares.

By the time there’s a lull in the conversation, it’s time to go. Liz and Caleb are walking us to the door when Liz suddenly shrieks happily. “I almost forgot! Our first snow! And we have company. Perfect!”