Someone I Wanted to Be (23 page)

Anita leaned down and touched her shoulder and said, “Evelyn? Let’s go!” She picked up the remote and turned off the television.

Evelyn’s head slowly swelled into a red ball. She screamed, flung herself backward on the polar-bear fur rug, and kicked within an inch of the glass fireplace screen. Mrs. Lancaster looked nauseated.

Anita crouched and whispered something in Evelyn’s ear. Evelyn instantly stopped crying. She stood up and walked over to Mrs. Lancaster. Her head hung down. “Thank you,” she said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Her little belly poked out.

“You’re very welcome,” said Mrs. Lancaster with an anxious smile.

As we walked down the street, Mrs. Lancaster stood motionless behind the window.

Carl’s green military jacket flapped in the breeze. I’d never spent time with him outside of school. He and Anita, with their thin faces and skinny legs, looked like members of an alternative rock band. Evelyn held both their hands, jumped, and pulled up her knees so she hung between them.

“Evelyn, stop that!” said Anita. She staggered and lowered Evelyn’s butt onto the street. I observed Carl and Anita, trying to figure out if they had ever been a couple.

Ray Ramirez was playing basketball with his little brother. He stopped playing, held the ball under his arm, and waved to us. “Hey! How’s it going?” Senior class president, doing his job. The strangest thing of all was that Ray Ramirez was actually a very nice guy. He and LaTeisha were like the Greek gods — they were so far above the rest of us, they could afford to be sweet to everyone. A little further down the food chain, people were monsters. At the very bottom, with some notable exceptions, people tended to get decent again.

I’d walked down this street thousands of times, past its lawns, the walkways lined with petunias and little piney shrubs, the automatic sprinklers spinning water across the grass. The driveways were swept, the lawns were raked of every leaf and twig, and all the front doors were decorated with welcome mats and American flags. It used to look like the world to me, but now it looked like a stage set. We were two blocks from Kristy’s house.

“I don’t want to walk past Kristy’s house.”

“Detour,” said Carl. We took the long way down Mountain Meadow Street.

We darted between cars across Pueblo Avenue and headed down the hill toward Tenth. And it didn’t even occur to me what impression it might make for me to be seen with Anita Sotelo and Carl Lancaster until a car of kids passed. They hooted and shouted; someone threw a smashed pop can that hit Carl’s shoulder. A boy yelled, “Hey, Fat-Ass.” It burned for a second, but I didn’t change my expression or slow down; I walked right through it. It was like walking through a wall of glass that vanishes the second you push against it. Carl said something funny, and I laughed.

We went to the Walmart. Carl and I both handed money to the checkout lady. She had saggy powdered cheeks, orange circles of blush. She winked at Carl over her bifocals. “Do you get the change, honey, or should I give it to one of your girlfriends?”

As we walked back out the automatic door, Anita frowned and chewed her thumbnail. “God, I hate cell phones. You do know that there’s a bloody civil war going on in the Congo over the stupid mineral they need for cell phones and laptops, and they’re destroying the lowland gorilla’s last habitat, all for . . .”

“Anita,” said Carl. He scratched the back of his neck and squinted. “Leave it for now. We can discuss this later.”

I tore off the thick plastic packaging. The cell phone was so small and shiny. I closed my fingers over it. We stood on the curb of the parking lot.

“Now what?” I felt damp and clammy, as if I had a terrible virus.

“We’ve got to activate the phone and phone card. Who’s got a laptop or a smartphone?”

“I don’t have Internet. You don’t either, right, Anita?”

Anita put her hands around her neck as if measuring it. “Nope. No kind of computer or computer access at my place.” She gazed across the parking lot and pulled Evelyn against her stomach.

“I guess we’re going back to Mrs. Lancaster’s house,” said Carl. He looked extremely tired for a second, then he threw his arms around our shoulders and we started walking.

As we walked, I laughed and talked, but mostly concentrated on Carl Lancaster’s arm around my shoulders. His arm and hand molded against me. The warmth of him soaked through my hoodie. He was about five inches taller than me. I looked over at Anita — she was laughing, snorting the way she did when she was happy. Carl’s face was so close to mine. He didn’t look at me, but I felt him watching me with his whole body. He ran his hand over my hair, and I tripped.

Carl grabbed my arm. “Are you OK?”

Back at Carl’s house, in a fast silent line, we kicked off our shoes and walked through the house and up the stairs without giving Mrs. Lancaster a chance to ask questions or offer us cookies. Carl locked the door and turned on his computer. “Leah, have a seat. Go for it.”

I sat down in the blue light. His mother rapped on the door. “Carl. Carl! I’m afraid this is not a convenient time to have guests.”

“We’re just setting up Leah’s cell phone!” Carl yelled. “Don’t worry. They’ll be gone in two minutes.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest that they weren’t welcome,” Mrs. Lancaster said through the door.

I typed like crazy and turned on the phone. “Just one minute . . . done.”

Evelyn rolled off Anita’s lap and lay on the carpet, looking up at me.

“I don’t want to leave you guys.” I wanted to stay forever in Carl’s room with Carl and Anita and Evelyn and the poster of the galaxy.
You are here.

Carl and Anita nodded. Evelyn lolled against Anita’s foot and stared at me with her googly eyes.

A key clicked in the lock. Mrs. Lancaster opened the door. “I’m so sorry, girls. . . .”

We stood in a triangle facing one another. The late-afternoon light was golden and shone on Anita’s face. Her skin looked ashy. She had purple moons under her eyes. “I should get home soon. I have to get up at four thirty.” Anita zipped up Evelyn’s jacket and took her hand.

“I wish we could hang out later,” I said.

“I can’t believe she used the key. It’s humiliating. That is my room. I’ll be eighteen in two years. I could join the army next year. I should! She’d love that! Except, I’d hate to be in the army. . . .” Carl ground the toe of his shoe into the driveway. “And I probably can’t go out tonight. I have a lesson at six, then dinner, then I have to practice for a couple of hours. I’ve got a recital Sunday. God, I hate my life.”

“Anita, can you get out?”

“I don’t know.” Anita shook her head and stared at the ground. “Evelyn would have to come. She’s been kind of sick and probably should go to bed early.” Evelyn let go of Anita’s hand and swung around the lamppost in Carl’s yard.

A huge cloud covered the sun and it was suddenly cold. The mountain loomed over us. Carl and Anita were both so skinny, and even standing there together, they already looked lonely. It was time for us to separate and go back alone to our rooms.

Carl put his hand on my shoulder. “I will try. I might be able to meet you at eight. Call me at seven. Do you guys want to go out tomorrow night? I can probably use the van.” His mother walked behind the glass in her white living room. She stopped and adjusted one of the dried flowers.

“I’m out of here.” Anita suddenly turned and walked down the street. She called back, “Call my landline about tomorrow.”

I turned to Carl and felt a jolt. No one had ever looked at me the way Carl did. Calm, steady, undistracted, intrigued, like he saw possibilities in me that I didn’t even know about. He put his hand on my shoulder, and I could feel him, Carl, through his warm hand. And I knew he could feel me seeing him.

I touched his hand for half a second, then scooted out from under it. “I’ll call you at seven. See you, Carl!” I ran to catch up with Anita.

Anita didn’t talk as we walked home. She kept her head down. Evelyn trotted alongside with her chin tilted up toward the sky. I walked them to their building.

Anita turned and gave me a tight hug, but still didn’t look at me. “Good luck with whatever the hell this is about. If anything seems weird, call 911.”

She unlocked the entrance door. She pushed Evelyn through. The door slowly shut behind them, then locked with a click. I wanted her to look back. I willed her to please look back and smile at me. She took an envelope and some flyers out of the mailbox, then unlocked the second door. Strands of black hair hung down her narrow back. She sagged to the side because Evelyn was hanging on to her shoulder and yammering at her. They went through the second metal door, and it slammed shut.

I walked home. A mountain of phone books had been dumped in my building’s entry with the pizza flyers. I went down the stairs and walked to #3.

Cindy was wearing a lime-green uniform. She pulled a box of generic cereal out of a paper bag. “I’m going to let you get your own dinner,” she said into the cupboard. “I’m sorry, but please don’t ask anything of me. I had a horrible day and I need to zone out. If you want the TV, you may watch while I shower.”

I went into my room, locked the door, and lay on the bed. I kicked my backpack onto the floor, and it landed with a thunk. I’d forgotten about school, even though I’d been carrying a fifty-pound backpack around all afternoon.

I tipped back my head. Light shone through the bars and the streaks of red dirt. The walls were bare now, except for Bruno Mars and Damien Rogers — no more kittens or puppies. They’d all grown up and run away.

The newspaper picture of Damien Rogers was rumpled and already beginning to turn yellow. I got up on my knees and looked at it. It was a newspaper photo of a high-school game with a guy in right field who was maybe Damien Rogers or maybe somebody else. I peeled the tape off the wall. As I crumpled the paper, my heart punched the inside of my chest.

I didn’t even have to try to remember the number — my thumb just tapped it out.

He answered on the second ring. “Ashley, I knew you’d call me back.”

I heard my voice tell him to meet at the Burger King by Torrance Park on Saturday night at eleven and hung up.

I opened my eyes. The lightbulb blazed over me. It was quarter to seven.

In the shower, I closed my eyes and stood swaying in the hot steamy air. I felt a little less nauseous, less dizzy and jittery. My cells seemed to be excreting nicotine the way Carl said they would. I used Cindy’s body wash and shaving cream, and shaved until my legs were shiny.

I turned off the water and dried myself off with a ratty blue towel that smelled like mildew. In the steamy mirror, I saw a girl with wet black hair and pink skin. Usually, I couldn’t bear to look at my body, but sometimes I did and sometimes had the secret thought that my breasts were so beautiful, it was tragic that no one could see them but me.

Corinne called my cell phone. “Finally, you bought some minutes. I’m sooooooo bored. I have to babysit. Kristy’s dad made her go to the youth group at their church. It goes till like eleven! He’s driving her both ways to make sure she doesn’t skip.” That meant Kristy was safe for the night at least.

I called Carl on the new phone.