The Right and the Real (22 page)

That idea seemed to get his attention. “All right,” he said. He flicked the cherry off the end of his cigarette and tapped it against the building to make sure it was out. Then he put what was left of it back in the pack. “You take your bike upstairs, and I’ll wait in the lobby and see what they do.”

“Okay. Thanks, LaVon.”

“No prob.”

I half dragged, half carried my bike upstairs. As soon as I had dumped it inside my room, I went back out to the stairwell to see if I could hear anything. A few minutes passed, but nothing happened. And then a girl let out a little scream; this was followed by LaVon’s rumbly voice. The door at the bottom of the stairs opened, and I heard footsteps.

“Walk,” LaVon said.

“Where are you taking us? Where’s Jamie?” asked a high-pitched voice.

“You better let us go, or I’m calling the police!” said another girl’s voice. This one I recognized.

LaVon came around the landing, herding Krista and Liz in front of him. They both had wrapped their heads in black scarves and sported huge, dark sunglasses.

“Friends of yours?” he asked me.

“Well, it’s so hard to tell,” I said, “what with their excellent disguises.”

“What’s going on?” Krista asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said.

LaVon shook his head. “I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

We left the “mysterious red station wagon,” which turned out to belong to Liz’s aunt, in the parking lot, and walked over to the Coffee Klatch to talk. A few minutes later, the three of us settled onto a couple of couches with our drinks. Krista and I were slumped into our seats, but not Liz. Her back was so straight she looked like a puppet on a taut string.

Krista scanned the little café. “So where’s the cute guy who gives you free coffee?”

“He works the morning shift…with me. He’s my boss. I work here.” Eighties music blasted over the sound system, making it hard for me to think. “Look, I’m sorry,” I said.

“Are you going to tell us what for?” Liz asked.

“Yeah…I guess,” I said.

“Jamie,” Krista said, “we know your dad lost his job and he has to sell his house. It’s not a crime to be poor.”

“Lots of people are losing their homes,” Liz said.

Krista wrapped her arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “We’re here for you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “About my dad and his job?”

“We went to your house last weekend to take you out for some fun. We saw the house was for sale,” she explained. “On Monday morning, I called your dad at the newspaper to ask him if he thought you were okay, but they told us he hadn’t worked there for several months.”

I’d never bothered to tell Krista he’d quit because I was embarrassed he was writing propaganda for the church instead of working at a real job.

“So we put one and one together,” Liz said.

“Anyway, we figured out he lost his job and the house, and that’s why you’ve been acting so weird lately,” Krista said.

I have to admit, I contemplated letting their deductions stand. What would it hurt if they thought Dad, Mira, and I lived in the motel while he looked for work? The thing was, I’d never lied to either of them before all this, and the guilt had gnawed at my insides like slow-working acid for weeks now. I knew if I set them straight, I’d feel better, but I didn’t know if they’d forgive me for lying all this time.

I sighed. “That’s not exactly what happened,” I said. “Do you guys promise not to tell anyone?”

They nodded.

“Pinky swear.” Krista held out her hand.

“It’s more important than that,” I said. “Krista, you have to promise not to tell your mom.”

She’d lined her eyes with what looked like a purple crayon, and they bugged out at me. “You’re pregnant,” she said.

“No. Don’t be stupid.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.…”

And then, like they say in court, I told them the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

“Ohhh, Jamie,” Krista said, when I was finished, “I wish you’d said something before.” She pulled me up off the couch and wrapped her arms around me. Liz joined in, encircling both of us. At that point, I burst into tears because I was so relieved they knew.

We stood there, all of us crying, until a familiar voice said, “Can I get in on this hug too?”

We pulled apart. Trent grinned at us.

“Do we know you?” Krista asked.

He put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed. “I’m the cute guy who gives Jamie free coffee every morning.”

“You heard that?” I asked.
Oh, God. How embarrassing.

“I hear everything that happens in the Coffee Klatch,” he said in a silly deep voice. “Bwahahahaah.” I guess he realized the look I gave him was not admiration for his eavesdropping skills because he added, “That’s all I heard. Really. I was just walking by at the right moment.”

“So you’re the boss?” Krista asked.

“That’s him,” I said. “Trent, meet Krista and Liz.”

“Hey,” he said. “Jamie’s told me all about you.”

“She has?” Krista asked.

“Not really, but that’s what you’re supposed to say, right?” He still had his arm draped over my shoulder, and the heat of it was burning into me, making me feel a bit…well, fluttery.

“How come you’re here now?” I asked, trying to think about something besides how close he was standing to me.

“Upgrading the computers,” he said. “So do you want to tell Dr. Trent why you were all hugging and crying in the middle of the café?”

“Not really,” I said.

Trent’s grin was contagious, though, and I started to giggle at the absurdity of it all…us sobbing in the Coffee Klatch, me keeping all this from my friends, and Trent…cute Trent with the coffee-colored eyes and movie camera tattoo. Krista began to laugh too, and before we knew it, we were all cracking up.

“I feel so much better,” I said, wiping at the tears.

“Me too,” Trent said.

I shoved him down onto the couch, and he pulled me next to him. My friends sat across from us smiling like they’d never seen anything
so adorable. Sheesh. All I’d said was he was cute. We weren’t a couple or anything.

“So what do we do now?” I asked.

“Let’s go bowling,” Trent suggested.

“Bowling?” the rest of us said together.

“That’s kind of random,” Krista added.

“I’m a random kind of guy,” Trent said. “No, seriously, it’ll be cool. You get to wear those funky shoes and throw things. It’s a great stress reliever. And you guys all look really tense.”

“And they have those goopy fake-cheese nachos,” Liz added.

“Exactly,” Trent said. “Let’s go.”

Krista rode to Twenty-One Lanes with Liz, and I went with Trent. I sank into the front seat of his car and for the first time in forever, I felt so relaxed.

“Has LaVon told you anything about my circumstances?” I asked.

“Well…,” he said. I could tell he didn’t want to rat out LaVon.

“It’s okay.”

“All he really said was you’re on your own and you rent the room next to him.”

“Yeah.…So do you even
want
to know my story, or would that be too much information?”

We’d stopped at a red light. “If you’re ready to tell me,” he said.

“Are you as good of a guy as you appear to be?”

“Definitely not.” I could hear the laughter behind his serious tone.

I didn’t believe it. He
was
one of the good ones. At least, I hoped so. The light changed, and someone honked behind us.

“Well,” I said, “that guy, Josh…he was my boyfriend, but he belonged to this crazy church.”

I was still talking when we got to the bowling alley. I told Trent
everything. Even about Mom’s drug problems and how afraid I was that if anyone found out I was on my own, they’d send me to live with her. He didn’t say much, but I knew he was listening. After a while, it occurred to me that I’d had this potentially great support network around me all this time and I’d been afraid to use it because I thought I had to be strong and take care of myself just to prove I wasn’t like my mother. When I ran out of things to say, we sat there, but it wasn’t awkward. Peaceful, actually. Liz and Krista got out of their car and waved at us, pointing at the bowling alley, indicating they’d be inside, and we waved back.

“So this Josh guy,” Trent finally said, “he’s out of the picture?”

“Completely,” I said.

Except for the stupid Popsicle thing. I still had to track him down and find out what that was all about.

Trent nodded his head. “Cool.”

“But I owe you an apology,” I said.

“For what?”

Oh, God. This was going to be the hardest part of all. “I…I was still going out with Josh when you and I met. And I shouldn’t have flirted with you like that. It wasn’t right.”

He shifted in his seat, gazing out the window. “It wasn’t your smartest move ever,” he said. “It kind of made me mad when I found out.”

“You should’ve been really pissed.”

“Mostly I was just bummed,” he said. “That you had a boyfriend, not about the flirting. I kind of liked that because, you know, and I mean this in the best possible way, but aside from being really hot, you’re also really goofy.”

“Me?” I said, laughing. “Everything goofy I know I learned from you!”

“Yeah, probably.”

“But there’s one more thing,” I said.

“Why do I think I’m not going to like this part?” he asked, his face serious for once.

“The thing is,” I said, “my life is really screwed up right now. I like you, but…”

He sighed. “But you’re not ready for a new relationship, right? Story of my life. Okay. That’s fine. We can just be friends.”

“Really?”

“Sure,” he said. “Why not? But I won’t wait for you forever, you know? No more than twenty years, tops. Or possibly twenty-five. Maybe thirty, but only if you keep wearing those low-cut sweaters I like so much. And that’s my final offer too.”

“You’re making it really hard for me not to throw myself at you and kiss you all over,” I said.

His expression perked up. “Really?”

“Really.” I leaned in, but then Krista pounded on my window, making us jump.

“Well, that romantic moment’s kind of shot,” Trent said, and I laughed.

“I thought we were bowling,” Krista yelled through the glass.

“We are!” Trent said. He leapt out of the car, ran around, opened my door, and bellowed, “Are you ready to boooooooowwwwwwllllll?”

There’d be time for running my fingers through Trent’s hair later.

“I am sooooooo ready to bowl!” I yelled back.

“Race you,” he said, tearing off across the parking lot, and I ran after him, my lungs filling with fresh air and my conscience light.

The next day, at my locker, I spun the combination, pulled the door open, and that stupid empty Popsicle box I’d held on to fell off the shelf and hit me in the forehead. In a blinding flash of memory, I made the connection.

BY THE TIME KRISTA FOUND ME HUDDLED AGAINST
the locker, my entire body shook as if I’d been dipped in ice water.

“You’ve got to help me!” I said, grabbing at her.

“Jamie. You look horrible. What’s wrong?”

“He needs help. It’s a message. He’s trying to tell me he needs help.”

“What are you talking about?” Krista asked. Her words reached me slowly, as if from a long way away. “Are you sick?”

“Why did it take me so long to remember?” I demanded. “Josh brought me a note to work almost a week ago! I’m a terrible daughter.”

“Jamie, you’re not making sense. Tell me what is going on.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I said.

Krista laid a cool hand on my forehead like she thought I had a fever.

“What’s wrong with her?” I heard someone ask.

“I think she’s delirious. She just keeps babbling,” Krista said. “And she’s shaking.”

“Maybe we should take her to the nurse.”

Through my haze, I looked up and saw Liz hovering over me, her hair neatly tucked up into its bun.

“No! Not the nurse. I need to talk to Josh,” I said.

“Why?” Krista asked.

“The Popsicle box. It’s a message from my dad.”

“What?” they both asked.

“My dad, he needs help,” I tried to explain. “When I was little, when my mom…when…”

“What about your mom?” Krista asked gently.

“When…she did drugs…and she had boyfriends…and…and…”

The warning bell ripped through the hallway.

“Come on,” Krista said, getting me up on my feet. “Mr. Lazby teaches English first period in his classroom. No one will be in the drama room.”

Liz and Krista surrounded me like a protective wall and led me downstairs. Krista turned on Mr. Lazby’s desk lamp, and we sank onto the piles of cushions he kept for us, since there weren’t any chairs.

“Now,” Krista said, “start at the beginning.”

I took a bunch of slow, deep breaths. “When I lived with my mom…” They nodded encouragingly at me, and the familiar smell of the room’s fresh paint and musty pillows calmed my nerves. “And…she…well, as you know, she did drugs,” I continued.

They waited.

“My dad and I had a code. It was a sort of cry-for-help thing. I could call him anytime, just to hear his voice, but if I was ever in real trouble, I was supposed to give him the code.”

Krista squeezed my hand. “And?” she asked.

“It was Blue Raspberry Popsicle. And that’s why Josh keeps leaving me notes about Popsicles.”

They stared at me like maybe I’d lost it. “Don’t you see?” I said. “Dad told Josh our secret code because he needs my help.”

The rest of the day, I stayed on the lookout for Josh, but of course, he never let me near him. He’d said his dad and the Teacher read his e-mails and text messages, so I couldn’t risk contacting him that way either, unless I wanted to get him in trouble. And I still cared about what happened to him. In fact, I missed him, but I never mentioned that to my friends because Krista and Liz couldn’t understand what I saw in him when he’d treated me so badly.

“You should just ride your ass over to the church and say you wanna see your dad,” LaVon told me that night.

He had practically forced my dinner on me, handing me one egg roll after another, reminding me to bite and chew when I sat there too long not eating.