Tell Us Something True (9 page)

“Promise you won't judge me?”

“I can't promise that.”

“My girlfriend drove me everywhere. We were together before we turned sixteen and she got her license first, so I never needed to get mine. And I have friends who drive too, so…”

“That's pathetic.”

I'd been told this before. Lots of times. But it was the first time I saw the truth in it.

“Do you have a license?”

“Of course I do. I just don't have a car.” She reached over and took my mango soda and took a sip of it without asking first. I looked at the bottle top for a trace of her pink lip gloss, but she didn't leave any behind. “You know what I'm gonna do for you, River?”

“Nope.”

“I'm gonna teach you how to ride the bus.”

“Thanks, but—”

“No need to thank me. I like a charity case now and then. You'll be like my community service project. I can put it on my college applications. I'll be all:
Volunteered time to help poor Westside white boy understand how to navigate the Los Angeles public transportation system.
”

“Ha.”

“Ha.”

Her arm rested on the table and I took a close look at her wrist tattoo. It was beautiful. I wanted to ask her about it but I didn't.

“So you're going to college next year?”

“Why wouldn't I be?”

“I didn't mean it like that. I—”

“At some point, yeah, I'm going to go to college. But not next year. I don't know what my parents would do without me. And I don't have the money. And I haven't figured out how to steal it.”

“Daphne—”

“Kidding. What about you, River? You going to college next year?”

“My applications are in. I'll hear in a few weeks. And I have the money. But I don't want it. The money, I mean.”

“Say what?”

“It's from my father. My mom and Leonard can't afford it, but he can. That was the deal. He'll pay for college. And I'll go on about my life and occasionally stalk him on the Internet.”

“You have to take his money, River. Not taking his money would be more stupid than trying to steal it.”

“I know, it's just—”

“It's just that you want to prove you don't need him.”

“I guess so.”

“Here's the thing. He owes you. Big-time. He owes you more than a college education.”

“Should I ask him to buy me a pony?”

“At least then you wouldn't have to ride the bus.”

Music played softly in the background, and multicolored Christmas lights hung over the picnic tables like a circus of stars. A celebration in the cosmos. She smiled at me, and for the first time since that day in the middle of Echo Park Lake, I felt happy enough to be sitting right here, not wondering what Penny was doing, where she was doing it and with whom.

I wanted to tell Daphne that she needed to go to college too. That she was too smart to stay home playing babysitter to her siblings. That there had to be a way. But I didn't know how to say what I wanted to. For the first time, I saw how lucky I was.

“Do you want another taco?”

“No.”

“Another soda?” I wasn't ready for the night to be over.

“No.”

She reached behind her for her purse. “Come on. Let's hit the bus stop. Your lesson starts now.”

I sat with Maggie and Will in the gym watching Luke's basketball game, sizing up Evan Lockwood.

“He does have magnificent thighs,” Maggie sighed. “But he doesn't have nearly as much going for him overall as you do, River. For one thing, he's not as cute.”

“River is cute?” Will cocked his head at me.

“Duh. Look at him. Cute in that sensitive, vulnerable, pretty boy sort of way.”

“I'd trade any one of those for magnificent thighs,” I said.

“Jesus,” Will said. “Stop saying
magnificent thighs.
”

Maggie gave him a shove. “Oh my god! That should be your band name! Will Parker and the Magnificent Thighs. I'm calling the booker at Largo!”

If you'd been watching me on those bleachers, smiling and laughing, you'd never have known that on the inside I was like those antismoking photos they show you in health class: charred and sickly. How could Penny consider going anywhere with Evan Lockwood? With anyone but me?

“I'm sorry she dumped you, River,” Maggie said. “But I'd be lying if I said that sorry is the only thing I felt.”

“I know you guys didn't like her.”

“It's not that we didn't like her, it's that we didn't like you with her.”

“Yeah,” Will added. “You were kind of a pussy.”

“Hey! I was just a good boyfriend.”

“No, you were pretty much a major pussy.”

Maggie smacked Will on the back of the head. “That word is demeaning and stupid. And you're better than that.” She turned to me. “But, River, you did do whatever Penny told you to. And the truth, which Will can't properly express because he's a Neanderthal, is that we missed you.”

Just then, Evan Lockwood scored a three-point shot. The gym went berserk.

“Wow. I really bollixed everything up, didn't I?”

“Sorta,” Will said.

“It's too bad there isn't some girl you could ask to the dance. And I'm not suggesting me, because I'm obviously a pity date and that just looks sad and desperate. How about…” Maggie scanned the crowd and then pointed across the gym. “Her?”

“Rachel Pomeroy? Uh…no thank you.”

“Why?”

“She's mean. And scary.”

“So?”

“Well, mean and scary aren't qualities I look for in a mate.”

“Nobody said anything about mating. We said you need a date for the dance so that Penny can see you're moving on. It's time to remake your image. You need somebody a little intimidating. Someone who might knock Penny's sense of superiority down a notch.”

That was when Daphne came to me. In Day-Glo. She was perfect. Intimidating and beautiful with the added bonus of being unknown.

But how to explain Daphne to my friends? How could I know someone from Boyle Heights when I didn't even drive? How had I struck up a friendship with a Mexican girl who was raising her siblings because her parents worked three jobs around the clock?

A friendship with Daphne challenged every presumption of the life I'd been leading for seventeen years. Everyone I knew was a different variation on the same Westside theme. We all went to schools with nice gyms and impressive college matriculation records. Some of us were richer (Penny), some were poorer (me), some were whiter (Maggie could trace her family back to the
Mayflower
) and some less so (Luke's mother was a doctor from Mexico City).

Nobody I knew was like Daphne…Crap. I didn't even know her last name.

This was going to be a tough one.

Luke's team lost the game and we went to our usual diner for a consolation sundae. It felt good to be a quadrangle again.

“So I met this girl…online,” I said.

“You what?”

“I met this girl.”

“Online.”

“Yes.”

Maggie looked at Will and then at Luke. They both stared back blankly, like:
Don't ask us, we're just guys, we don't understand anything.
“River, I had no idea things had gotten that desperate,” she said.

“I wasn't, like, online dating or whatever.” My mind spun. How was I going to explain this?

“So…how
did
you meet a girl?” Luke asked.

“Well, I didn't
meet a girl.
I mean…I don't
like
her. We're just friends.”

“Okay. So how did you meet this girl you don't like online?” Will asked.

“On Instagram.”

“Wait. Hold on.” Maggie pushed up her sleeves. “You have an Instagram account?”

“Yes.”

“But you hate Instagram. In fact, you hate all social media.”

“I know. But I suddenly have more time on my hands without Penny and I decided to check out Instagram.”

Maggie whipped out her phone. “What's your user name?”

“I'm not going to tell you that.”

“River,” she said, putting down her phone. “Let me explain how Instagram works. You tell your friends what your user name is so that they can follow you so that you can get more followers so that you aren't alone out there in the wilds of the Internet.”

“Yeah…but…” I was treading water. “This is, like, a new thing for me. Something separate from my normal life. I'm trying to take more risks. To be less…predictable.”

“So what's your deal? Like, do you have a thing?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, do you have some sort of Instagram identity? Something that sets you apart? Are you posting pictures of anything in particular or just your dull, boring life as a heartbroken loser? Because that's, you know, pretty predictable.”

For some reason Daphne's tattoo popped into my mind, the roses on the vine that wound around her wrist.

“Tattoos.”

“Tattoos?”

“Yeah. I post pictures of tattoos.”

“River.” Now Maggie pulled down the sleeves she'd just pushed up. “Do I need to state the obvious? That you don't have a tattoo?”

“I know I don't have a tattoo, but I like them. I think they're…beautiful. And I take pictures of other people's tattoos and post them on Instagram.”

Maggie looked at Will and Luke. They shrugged.

“I can't escape the feeling,” she said, glancing at the ceiling since the guys weren't offering any help, “that I've stepped into an alternate universe. Someplace where River Dean takes artsy pictures of strangers' tattoos and posts them online.”

“Dude,” Luke said. “That's kinda awesome.”

“Thanks.”

“So you met this girl…” Maggie gave me the
go on
motion.

“Yeah, I met this girl. And she likes my pictures. And she has a tattoo of roses on a vine that wind around her wrist.”

“Sexy,” Will said.

I nodded noncommittally. “She's cool. Her name's Daphne. I think maybe I should invite her to the dance, you know, as a friend.”

“Where does she go to school?” Luke asked.

“I don't know.”

Maggie frowned. “Are you sure she's not some forty-three-year-old perv masquerading as a high school girl with a cool tattoo?”

“Nah, I've hung out with her.”

“When?”

“Just a couple of times. Listen, should I ask her or would it be awkward?”

“We'll go as a group. That'll kill the awkward.”

Suddenly Will perked up. “What do you mean by
we
?”

“I mean you and me and River and tattoo girl will go to the dance together. And Luke too if he wants to.”

Luke put his hands up. “I don't want to.”

“Neither do I,” said Will.

“That's too bad.” Maggie threw an arm around Will. “Because we're going. And you're driving.”

That night I texted Daphne.

ME: Hey

HER: Hey

ME: What R U doing?

HER: Texting U

ME: Duh

HER: So?

ME: So do U wanna go to a dance w/me Fri?

HER:

ME: Well do U?

HER:

ME: Hello?

HER: Hi

ME: Is that a no?

HER: R U really asking me to a dance in a text?

She answered before I even heard her phone ring.

“This is Daphne.”

“Hi, Daphne. It's River.”

“River who? I know several Rivers.”

“River Dean.”

“Oh, that River. Hi, River Dean.”

“Hi, Daphne…”

“Vargas.”

“Hi, Daphne Vargas. This is River Dean calling. I was wondering if by any chance you'd want to come with me to a dance at my school this Friday night.”

A long pause. Long enough for nerves I didn't even know I had to kick in.

“I just thought…I don't know. Maybe it would be sort of fun. In a stupid way. It doesn't have to be a real date or anything.”

“Is that code for you want me to go with you to make your ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“No…”

“That's okay. I don't mind.”

“You don't?”

“Nah. I like the challenge.”

“Cool. Is that a yes?”

The line went quiet.

“If it helps you make up your mind, the theme is Purple Rain.”

“I don't understand what that means.”

“I don't really either.”

Another pause. “I'm not sure this is such a good idea, River.”

“Why?”

“Well…I take what happens at our meetings seriously. And you know, there are rules about this sort of stuff. Did you ever read that yellow pamphlet?”

“Yeah…but…it's not a date. Why is it any different than going for a French dip? Or Jarritos and tacos?”

She was silent. Then, “I guess it's not.”

“So that's a yes?”

“It's a sure. Why not.”

“Cool. I'll pick you up.”

“You don't drive, remember? You like to walk.”

“My friend Will drives. And…there's more.”

“What more could there be than a Purple Rain theme?”

“Well, my friends don't know about A Second Chance. That's a secret. So I told them we met online.”

“Ew.”

“No, like on Instagram.”

“I'm not on Instagram.”

“I'm not either. But I told them I have an Instagram account where I post pictures of other people's tattoos and you liked my pictures and we became friends.”

“Weird.”

“I know. It's all I could come up with on the spot. I just…didn't want them to know.”

“Do they know you have a marijuana addiction?”

“Do your friends know you shoplift?”

A long silence.

“No. Nobody knows but my parents. The police were kind enough to inform them. They were so proud.”

I thought about how difficult that moment must have been for her. Daphne—the girl who holds it all together.

“But they must be proud of you now? How hard you work for everything and how hard you're working on yourself?”

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

Maybe I should have just asked Rachel Pomeroy. It didn't seem fair to enlist Daphne in my stupid plot to make Penny jealous—she had more important battles to fight.

“Look, Daphne. Maybe you have a point. Maybe this isn't such a great idea.”

“Are you
un
inviting me to the dance?”

“No, I just don't want to put you on the spot or make you uncomfortable or—”

“River. Do you know when the last time I went to a school dance was? Or really, the last time I did anything just for fun?”

“No.”

“I don't either. So I think I'd like to go.”

“You're sure? Because—”

“I'm sure.”

“Great.” I exhaled. I hadn't even noticed I'd been holding my breath. “Oh, and one more thing you need to know.”

“What?”