Leap (13 page)

Wednesday, August 11th

This morning Mom and I pulled on gardening gloves and armed ourselves with shovels and spades. We didn't say much. Like a search-and-rescue team, we replanted the flowers and shrubs we could save and piled up the ones we couldn't. The trunk of the ornamental cherry tree had split; sap oozed from the core and congealed. We'll have to go to the nursery if we want to replace it, but we didn't discuss it. I think we both need some time.

I did some mental sorting as we salvaged the garden. I wish I knew where Kevin was. I don't know if I want to talk to him right now, but I keep thinking about Saturday. If it weren't for the party, we would have had time to figure out what everything meant. We weren't drunk, and that seems important. I saw the way he looked at me—I know he feels something. But is it the same as what I feel? Am I his girlfriend? I saw him talking to that Vanessa girl just before the rumble broke out and everyone dispersed. Where did he spend the night? Where is he now? Four days have already passed.

Thursday, August 12th

My period was officially due last Sunday. Is Plan B guaranteed, or not? Maybe I'm really pregnant! What will I do? A baby would ruin my life, but so would an abortion. I can't have either one. But I would have to. Unless I killed myself. Or had a miscarriage—how common is that? I've heard Mom's friends talk in hushed voices about miscarriages like they cause horrible trauma. But I would give anything for that to happen to me right now.

The strange thing is, even though I know how much trouble it causes, I can't stop thinking about sex.

Lisa says that the muscle contractions involved in orgasm can trigger your period. That means there is something I can do.
Alone.

Evening

It worked! I “induced” my period! I've never been so happy to see blood. Lovely dark red bodily fluid.

Friday, August 13th

It's Friday the thirteenth, but the blood still flows—I am blessed, not cursed. Or maybe a little of both. How can Kevin have just disappeared like this? It's almost like last week was a dream. What if I didn't know Lisa?
You know he got a girl pregnant last year, don't you?
Sasha's voice echoes in my head. Was she telling the truth? And if so, what became of that girl? Sasha surely would have mentioned a baby—a niece or a nephew, to her!

Mom just called out that she's running some errands. She never used to frame her plans so vaguely. No doubt it's a tip from
The Rules for Dating as a Single Parent
: “Don't burden your children with the details of your dating life, but never lie to them about it, either.” Like I care. Honestly, I'm just glad she's giving me some time to myself so I don't always have to escape to the beach or Con Brio.

Just remembered, Lisa told me to call her. I hear Kermit's motor receding. Now's my chance.

Lisa was happy to hear the news. She was at the office, and I should have just left it at that. But I wanted to get her opinion on whether I should try to find Kevin. She said, “He knows where you are. He should be calling
you
. And not just because of what happened between the two of you. He had a party against your wishes in your mother's house and abandoned you to face the police. What kind of a person does that, Natalie? I really think you should forget him.”

I've never heard Lisa sound so adamant. Usually, she sees all sides of a situation and doesn't pass judgment. I see her point, I really do. But acid is corroding my stomach lining, I want to see him so bad.

Lisa also asked me if I'd gone for my screening yet. My first thought was of some auditions Petra had told us about. But that's not what Lisa meant. “You know, at the clinic?”

I groaned. “Do I
have
to?” The last thing I needed was more people judging me with their looks the way the pharmacist's assistant had.

“I would if I were you.” She paused. “I'll call and make an appointment for you, okay?”

I sighed. She obviously wasn't going to let this go. “Okay.” I hung up, hoping to forget about it for another week or so.

But she called right back. “They had a cancellation. I got you in for Monday afternoon at one.”

“Great,” I said with zero enthusiasm.

Really. Can't wait.

Saturday, August 14th

The blood still pours—they never told me it would be an extra-strength period like this. It's kind of reassuring, though. The little zygote—if there is one—is sure to be flushed out. My energy has ebbed. I'm sitting in a deck chair trying to soak up some sun. Mom just asked if it's all right to have Marine over for dinner, and I pleaded that I wasn't feeling well enough to have company. As she listened, her face betrayed the same hunger that I'm feeling—a tapeworm eats away at her, too.

Just now Mom followed up with a second question: “Do you mind if I go out for dinner?”

I said, “Please do, that would be great,” maybe too enthusiastically. I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait to go back to school. Mom and I are crowding each other out.

Evening

Mom popped her head into my room on her way out. I detected an unfamiliar odor. “What's that smell?”

She blushed. “Do you mean my perfume? It's sandalwood. Don't you like it?”

“It's okay. Since when do you wear perfume?”

Mom cleared her throat. “It's something new I'm trying. Just for fun, now and then.”

She assured me she wouldn't be out late. I think she doesn't want me to get any ideas about inviting guests over. As if!

It's my one-week anniversary of losing my virginity. I don't think I bled when it happened—my hymen must have been broken already by tampons and fingers. Or maybe even by doing high kicks and the splits.

So why is losing my virginity such a big deal, then? I don't know why, but it is. I had
someone else
inside my body! How weird is
that
? It's so confusing.

I really thought I was falling in love.

No.

I thought
we
were falling in love.

It has been a whole week. Has he forgotten me; has he hooked up with someone else—like Mascothead Vanessa? I'm sure I saw her gawking at him. Has she sunk her trendy little claws in him? Does he like her body better? Is she better in bed? Does he prefer someone older and more experienced?

OH MY GOD! I CAN'T STAND THIS! Maybe it's not too late to win him back, if I can only get hold of him.

Later

*67'ed the Varkoskys. Mrs. V. answered.

“May I speak to Kevin, please?” I pitched my voice higher to disguise it.

“Who is this?”

Panic silenced me.

“Is that you, Diane? I've asked you to stop calling here. Do you understand me? Kevin is dead as far as you're concerned.”

A male voice sounded in the background just before the receiver clicked. Was it Kevin?

Who the hell is Diane? The pregnant girl? How many women has Kevin slept with? How many of them were virgins? Does he make a habit of seducing virgins and ditching them once they've given in? And does he always go after younger girls? Do women his own age see through him?

How could he disappear on me like this?

Sunday, August 15th

I set up a sleeping bag on the deck last night. Hard to believe it has been a month since Paige and I slept out there. The earth is passing through an asteroid belt. I kept a soft focus to my gaze because, at any moment, a star could fall anywhere in the dome above me. And did they ever. Long, comet-tailed streaks of light like matches being struck across the sky. Brief flicks like silver minnows darting in dark water. The meteors fell in an arc as they gave in to the earth's gravity. At times, they almost rained down. Silent cannon balls that burned up before they hit a target—thankfully!

I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew, the sliding glass door was screeching open, the patio light was switched on, and Mom was yelling, “Natalie!”

I rubbed my eyes. They felt sealed shut, and it stung to force them open. I squinted at the looming, backlit figure of my mother.

“Natalie!”

“Yes, I'm here, what is it?”

“My God! Why didn't you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“I came home and saw that you weren't in bed. I've been calling everyone! I've been frantic! Sasha's mother sounded drunk and said Kevin wasn't there and she hasn't seen him in days and she wouldn't give me the number where she thought he might be staying, so I tried directory assistance, but no luck. I called your dad and couldn't get him on his cell phone so then I was frantically searching for the number at the cabin and I couldn't remember how to spell Vi's last name—can you believe it? So I had to hunt for Paige's letters and finally found the one with the cabin phone number but of course it was the middle of the night out there and I woke everyone up. Your dad wasn't too pleased and said that there was nothing for it but to call the police. I hung up and called Marine, and even she thought it was the best thing to do, and coming from her, that's quite a statement because just between you and me she still calls them ‘pigs' behind their back, she's got those old hippy values, not that I don't, I can see where she's coming from with that, but I think it's different when you don't have kids, when you have kids you're pretty grateful to have
some
kind of higher authority to turn to in an emergency—”

“Mom! Calm down!” She was freaking me out with her nonstop talking. I snuggled deeper into the sleeping bag.

She kept right on going. “I was still on the phone with Marine when call waiting popped up and I thought it was going to be Sasha's mom calling back to tell me where you and Kevin were but it was Paige. Paige had woken up, too, and wanted to know what all the fuss was about, and when they told her, she calmly said, ‘Have you checked the balcony? Nat is probably sleeping under the stars.' And here you are.”

“Correction: I
was
sleeping under the stars.”

“You should have left me a note in the kitchen. I was worried sick.”

“I'm sorry. I just never thought it would be a problem.”

I traipsed back to my bedroom, then, because the sun rises awfully early at this time of year. It took me quite a while to get back to sleep after that tirade. Now I know how stressed out I've made my mother with the P&P (party and police) incident. I'm going to have to straighten up because I don't think she's too stable. I've never seen her talk a mile a minute like that. Maybe she's feeling especially fragile with everything that's going on in her own life these days. Everything she's still keeping in.

It's kind of funny that she's done some of the ground work.
I'm
dying to know where Kevin is too. Now I can scratch his mom and directory assistance off the list.

Evening

Mom and I have pretty much avoided each other all day. I've had a lot of time to think. I'm starting to come around to Lisa's perspective. It sucks that Kevin did what he did and then vanished. He knows where I am. He could have found me.

It hurts.

Monday, August 16th, morning

Am having a major mope fest. Tried Googling and 411ing Kevin and his tree-planting company—no results. Combed my memory for “Diane”—has Sasha ever mentioned her? Was that the name of the woman Kevin supposedly knocked up last year? Maybe she
did
keep the baby. Maybe Kevin is a father! If so, it's pretty cruel of Mrs. V. to cut off the mother of her own
grandchild!
Doesn't Kevin have a legal obligation to pay child support? Or maybe he denies it—maybe they're demanding proof of paternity, like on those talk shows where they make the guests argue for the whole show before they finally announce the results of a DNA test.

Mom just headed out again. Said she had to stop by the school. Yeah, sure. She'd fluffed up her hair and was wearing a new dress. The smell of sandalwood hung in the air. Her cheeks were pink from excitement, rather than makeup, I think. She has always pooh-poohed cosmetics. Unless … could she be a “lipstick lesbian”? That might explain her new interest in perfume. Guys at school talk about lipstick lesbians: They watch them on those porn sites with free video clips. I'm not sure if they exist in real life, though. It didn't come up in Health class.

Should I raid the fridge to get my mind off all this? Mom would lose herself in a book.

Phone—saved!

Later

That was Petra!

She's participating in a choreographers' festival in Vancouver. It takes place the weekend after next. She hired professionals to remount the piece she set on our summer school, but one of them twisted her ankle and has to pull out. Petra was panicking, not sure if she could get anyone to learn it in time, when she remembered me.