The Blue Girl (35 page)

“How’d this happen?” I ask.

“It’s got something to do with Halloween,” Maxine says. “He never really tried to do it until this year.”

“So how’s it feel?” I ask.

“Like being alive.”

I nod, then I make a fist and punch him in the shoulder. Hard.

“Ow! What was that for?”

I give him a sweet smile. “For all the times you disappeared on me in the middle of a conversation.”

He’s rubbing his arm when I turn away.

“What time is it?” I ask Maxine.

She checks her watch, then shakes her head.

“Almost nine thirty,” she says. “I thought it’d be way later than that.”

“No kidding.”

We hear something at the door and we all turn to look.

I guess I’m the only one who’s totally paranoid, because the first thing I do is reach for my switchblade. Then I realize it’s only Pelly.

“Are they gone?” Maxine asks.

He nods. “And they will keep their word.”

I shake my head. I’m not disagreeing; I just don’t know what to think.

“I think it’s pretty cool that your word means so much in the Otherworld,” Maxine says. “Too bad it couldn’t be like that here.”

“So they never lie?” I ask Pelly.

He laughs. “Everybody lies. They lie and they cheat and they do all manner of wrongs. But once they give their word, they keep their side of the bargain.”

“Whatever works,” I say. I turn to Maxine. “Can I borrow your cell?”

She digs in the pocket of her cargo pants and hands the phone over to me.

“Who are you calling?” she asks.

“My mom.”

Mom picks up on the first ring. “Imogene?”

“Hi, Mom. Everything okay with you?”

“I’ve been so worried.”

“Worry no more,” I tell her. “I still have a bit of a blue tint to my skin—”

“Liar,” Maxine mouths at me with a grin.

“—but otherwise I’m okay.”

“The police were here.”

“Yeah, I kind of thought they might be. Did they say why?”

“They wouldn’t tell me
anything.”

“Okay. The short story is, I caught some guy beating up his girlfriend and I gave him a taste of his own medicine.”

“Oh my god, are you
sure
you’re all right?”

“Totally, Mom.”

“When will you be home?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” I say. “If I go home, I’ll have to spend the night trying to explain myself to them and I
really
wanted to see Jareds band play tonight. I have had such a crappy week, I figure I deserve that much. And it is Halloween.”

“Did this boy hurt you?” she asks.

“No way.”

She sighs. “Are you going to be in a lot of trouble?”

“Probably. The guy I hurt is a big-shot quarterback, and if it comes down to my word against his—well, who are they going to believe? Especially if they talk to the cops in Tyson.”

I never got charged for anything there, but I got picked up a few times, and it was pretty much common knowledge that I ran with Frankie Lee’s gang.

“I don’t know  ...” Mom’s saying.

“Did they give you a hard time?” I ask.

This is a little unfair of me, playing on Mom’s old hippie distrust of “the Man,” but I was telling her the truth. I know I have to face up to what I did to Brent. I just want the rest of the night to be something resembling normal.

“Of course they gave me a hard time,” Mom says. “That’s what they’re here for, isn’t it? Why chase real criminals when they can harass single mothers and their daughters who were only trying to defend themselves. You
were
defending yourself, right?”

“Totally. And the guy’s girlfriend. I took her to the hospital.”

“Won’t she vouch for you?” Mom asks.

“She’s pretty much hated me for a year and a half at school,” I say, “so I doubt that one bit of Good Samaritanism’s going to do much to change her mind.”

“But you said you rescued her.”

“And she was grateful. But it seems she has a history of having this guy bang her around, and you know how that works.”

Mom gives me another sigh. “I swear  ...”

“Yeah, it’s a crappy world,” I say before she can go off on a tangent about how she doesn’t know which is worse, the fact that people get abused, or that we live in a society where the abused go right back for more. “So what do you say, Mom? Can I have tonight and turn myself in tomorrow?”

“There will be no turning yourself in,” she says. “Go see Jared play and then come home. If they want to talk to you, they can do it here with your mother and a lawyer present.”

“We can’t afford a lawyer.”

“Anna from down the hall’s a paralegal.”

I have to smile, but of course she can’t see that.

“Works for me,” I tell her. “What did you tell them when they asked where I was?”

“I said you’d gone to a party with a girlfriend. I was hoping it was true.”

I look around the paint-splattered basement. There’s Maxine. A corporeal ghost. A whatever-Pelly-is. And me, still blue.

“Close enough,” I say. “And when they asked you her name  ...”

“I told them it was a friend from school, but I didn’t know which one. And I didn’t tell them about Jared’s gig.”

“So I can go?” I ask, just to be sure.

“After the way you’ve turned things around this year? Of course you can.”

“You’re the best, Mom.”

“Just promise me you’re okay.”

“I totally promise. Except for a hint of the blue skin, everything’s okay now.”

She gives me one last sigh.

“Have a good time,” she says. “And try not to find any new trouble.”

“I love you, too, Mom,” I say before I hang up.

I hand the phone back to Maxine.

“We’re still going to the show?” she says.

“Of course we are. Weren’t you listening?” I look at the others. “We all are.”

“But I don’t have a costume,” Maxine says.

I smile and point at the last pail of blue paint, which didn’t get used.

“We’ll be the Blue Girls,” I say.

“Who are they?”

“Whoever we want them to be.”

I ask the boys to step outside. “And no peeking, ghost boy,” I tell Adrian, “or we leave you behind.”

“What about my costume?” he asks.

“You can be a ghost.”

“I already am a ghost.”

“I know. And a pretty convincing one, too.”

“And me?” Pelly asks while Adrian just shakes his head. I laugh. “You’ll be just fine the way you are.”

“But I can really go with you out into the world?”

“Absolutely. Now, shoo. I need to get Maxine ready.” Once they’re gone, she takes off her shirt, and I use one of the T-shirts she bought for the fairies to smear paint all over her arms, neck, and face.

“Close your eyes,” I say when I get to them.

It doesn’t take long for the poster paint to dry. It flakes around her eyes and mouth, neck and elbows, but it’ll work well enough in the club.

“You should turn your coat right side out,” she says as we start for the doorway.

“Excellent point. Although maybe wearing our clothes inside out could be a Blue Girl trademark.”

“I don’t think so.”

We gather up the boys outside in the hall and make it back upstairs to Maxine’s locker without running into Mr. Sanderson. I turn to Adrian while she gets her coat.

“You know I’ve got a boyfriend,” I tell him.

He nods, then looks a little nervous as I step over to him.

“I just don’t want you to make more of this than what it is,” I say.

And then I kiss him. On the lips. He gets this goofy look like he’s never kissed a girl before. Maybe he hasn’t.

“Thanks,” I tell him. “I know you didn’t mean to get us all into this. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you in the first place.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just stands there, then slowly lifts his fingers to touch his lips.

“Earth to ghost boy,” I say. “Yes, it really happened.”

“What happened?” Maxine asks, closing her locker.

“Imogene kissed the ghost,” Pelly says.

“News flash,” I say. “Girls kiss boys all the time. Now let’s go party.”

Mom’s so cool. Jared and I don’t get home until well past two, but she’s still waiting up for us in the living room and all she wants to do is hug us both and then send us off to bed.

“Did you deal with those bad fairies?” she asks.

“Totally. They won’t bother us anymore.”

She gives me a considering look. “You still look quite blue.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s fading.”

She raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t comment except to give me another hug. Then she points me in the direction of my bedroom and gives me a little push. Pelly s waiting there for me, grinning from ear to ear. For a weird little spindly guy, more hedgehog/monkey than boy, he showed excellent dance moves.

He stays long enough now to point to where he’s left my knapsack beside the dresser, thank me for the great night he had, and then he’s off with a promise to see me tomorrow.

“And if they put you in their prison,” he says before he disappears into the closet, “I’ll have you out in a moment.”

“I don’t think it’ll come to that, but thanks.”

That night my dreams are a rewind of dancing with my friends while Jared’s band plays. Of a slow dance with Thomas during which I swear our hearts are beating at the exact same tempo. There’s a bit of bittersweetness in there, too, when I think of Adrian, giving me those sad puppy dog eyes of his. But Maxine hooked him up with the sister of Jared’s guitarist and he didn’t moon over me again until the show was over and she went home with her brother.

I think he scored a few more kisses, though I’m not sure if that really happened, or if it was only in my dream.

*    *    *

Mom waits until ten o’clock to call the police and then insists that if they want to talk to me, they can come to the apartment. “Unless,” she adds, “you’re telling me my daughter is under arrest?”

She’s obviously confrontational, so either they have nothing on me, or they want to be damn sure they can build a case before they really get her going, but whichever it is, they do come to us. So we gather in the dining room and let me tell you, it all feels very surreal.

On one side of the table are the two detectives: Harry Black, a beefy guy who totally fills out his suit; when you look at him, you feel like you should be hearing the theme music to some cop show on TV. And then there’s the other side of the coin, his partner, Juanita Lopez, a tall woman with a kind face but a grave gaze that you know isn’t going to miss a thing.

Sitting across from them, there’s Mom and me, and Anna from down the hall, a petite brunette with a killer smile.

“Are you a lawyer, ma’am?” Black asks Anna.

“She’s representing us, yes,” Mom says before Anna can answer. “And she’s here to make sure we don’t get railroaded.”

“We’ll keep that in mind, ma’am,” Black says. He turns to look at me, and I know exactly what he’s thinking as his gaze goes from my hands, up my arms to my neck and face. “Are you always this—”

“Blue?” I finish for him. “No, it was just a dye job for Halloween, but it’s totally not washing off the way it’s supposed to.”

I wonder what Maxine’s mom had to say about her own blue daughter last night. I haven’t had the chance to talk to Maxine yet this morning, so I have no idea.

“This is what was so important?” Mom says. “My daughter’s Halloween costume?”

I’d ask her to tone down the aggression, but I have to admit I’m kind of enjoying Mom in full protective lioness mode. I’m pretty sure Detective Black can’t say the same. He gives a weary sigh, but it’s his partner who takes up the questioning.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Yeck,” Lopez says. “We’ll make this as brief as possible.”

Mom looks like she’s also got on opinion on that innocuous comment, but Anna lays a hand on her arm. There’s a long moment where the police are waiting to see if Mom’s got more to say.

“So, Imogene,” Lopez says, finally. “May I call you Imogene?”

I nod.

“You attend Redding High?”

I give her another nod.

“And were you on the school grounds yesterday evening?”

Yet one more nod from me. This is easy. I don’t have to say a word.

“Why were you there?”

“Maybe this would go a lot more quickly,” Anna says, “if you could just tell us what it is you need to know. Do we really need to establish the obvious?”

That grave gaze of Lopez’s pans to where Anna is sitting, but then she gives a short nod.

“You’re right,” she says. She turns back to me. “What can you tell me about the attack on Brent Calder?”

“Excuse me? Have you not seen the mess he made of his girlfriend?”

“We’re investigating that,” Lopez says, “but we’re also trying to understand how Mr. Calder was injured.”

“I don’t know,” I tell them.

I decided when I got up this morning that this is a situation where a lie’s my first best option. Everything depends on what Valerie’s told them—and I don’t have high hopes on that count—but I figure I’ll at least give it a shot at painting myself as the innocent bystander. And no, I’m not trying to deny what I did. Whether the cops charge me or not, I’m going to carry that with me. It’s just that doing it from a juvenile detention center’s not going to make it any easier.