“I promise I’ll be fine.” That crooked grin makes its hotter than hell reprisal. “I’ll throw myself in the shower as soon as I get back.”
“Oh! So hot water does the trick?”
A dull laugh rattles from his chest. “You could say that.”
Joel helps me into his truck and drives me home through the sleepy streets of West San Ramos. He offers a gentle kiss on the porch, something far less primal than what he gifted me back in his game room in the event we have another parental interruption. My father wouldn’t be nearly as understanding—my sister not as sweet or cute.
“I love you,” Joel whispers into my ear. He pulls back with those brilliant eyes beaming down at me and gives an easy smile—a smile that says we have a secret, and it’s the very best one.
“I love you, too.” I press a careful kiss to his lips.
I couldn’t think of a better way to end the best night of my life.
Joel
On Monday, I sit behind Kelly in government and burn a hole into the back of her skull with my heated stare. There’s no doubt in my mind she or her little cronies had something to do with the homecoming mishap that ruined Melissa’s dress. Although, in a strange way, I’m glad Mel and I ended up at my place. Things got heated, and it felt right. Plus, I finally had the chance to tell her how I feel. I have never uttered those words with more conviction. With Kelly, I was simply parroting a string of words right back to her. That’s why it was important that I go first with Melissa. I wanted those words to burn through me the way they’ve been burning through my heart these last few weeks.
Mr. Lefever ceases his droning lecture, and we break off into study groups—in my unfortunate case, it’s just Kelly and me. She spins around, her face covered in glitter. A new look for her, but I’m not interested.
“What’s up?” She snaps her gum like a slap detonating in my face.
“You know what’s up.” I don’t bother making eye contact with her, just pluck my backpack off the floor and begin rifling through it.
“Um—hello? No, I don’t. What’s this bullshit about now?” She tilts her head back and groans. “Let me guess. There’s an invalid little bitch at the bottom of this guilt trip.”
“You of all people should know about guilt trips.” I pause for a moment and look right at her. “Just admit that you set her up at the dance. That’s all. I’ll be satisfied with that.” Right after I report her for assault.
“Like, stop being ridiculous. Would you just chill out?” Kelly looks genuinely affronted, and it sets off an alarm in me. “It’s like you’re pissed to the max for no frigging reason. Get over it. Mouse-akowski is accident-prone. If you haven’t figured that out by now, maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
“Don’t call her that.” I land my Pee Chee folder on the desk and start stuffing her portion of our shared essay inside it. “I’ll go over this. I can type it all up tonight.” There’s no way in hell I want anything else to do with Kelly. The next time a teacher tries to stick me with her, I’ll tell them I’m allergic. I’m starting to think this is a real possibility judging by my visceral response to her.
“Get real. You know it’ll like take you twice as long. Just come over later, and we’ll bang it out together.” Her foot glides over my leg when she says the word bang, and I’m quick to move out of the vicinity.
“It’s no big deal. I got this.” I don’t bother looking up at her. I’m so pissed. I’m fuming.
An incredulous huff escapes her. “Like I’m so sure. You think I did it, don’t you?”
“Of course, you did it—even if it was indirectly.” Like I am so sure, I want to say but don’t.
“Well, I didn’t. But I promise you that if I did—I would most certainly expect my due credit.” She leans in and slaps her hand over mine like she’s squashing a housefly. I glance up and meet with her angry stare. “When I decide to end this farce between you and that house mouse, you will most certainly know about it. And then, any and everything between the two of you will cease and desist at that very moment.” Kelly’s older brother is an attorney, so she’s forever throwing out legal terms. It was the one thing that attracted me to her in the beginning. Everyone else thought it was her looks, but in truth she always wore a bit too much frosting on her face for my taste. Still does.
Her features deform with a look of horror as if something apocalyptic just occurred to her. “You’re not sleeping with her, are you?”
“None of your business.” I go to pull my hand from beneath hers, and she digs her plastic claws into me.
“Damn right, it’s my business.” She grits it through clenched teeth. “I’m the one putting up with all this crap until that concrete boot falls off her leg.” She leans in so far we’re practically nose-to-nose. “I know why you’re doing this. And I know that things haven’t been the best with us in a while. But they will be. Once you stop carting around that liability, we’ll get back on track. Just stop leading that poor little asshole on. I mean, you’re laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”
I give a quick glance around. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“My dad told me. Don’t worry. It’s not anything different than what I heard from your mother. You need to carry on with this little charade so she won’t wipe out your bank account. She’s a leech. All of those San Ramos kids are. But Karma is a real bitch. Once you cut her loose, she’ll get what’s coming to her for taking a bite out of our senior year. And once I’m ready, I’m coming after her hard.”
“Are you insane? I slammed into her with my fucking truck,” I whisper as loud as possible, and Mr. Lefever turns around. “She didn’t orchestrate anything against us.” The words come out softer, far quieter than before. “I actually want to help her. Nobody is forcing me, and certainly I’m not worried about her cleaning out my family’s checking account. So your little theories are skewed as usual.”
Kelly leans in further, her nose pushed up with anger. “I talked to Minerva O’Donnell, the girl who broke her leg last spring by jumping off her roof onto a mattress? She says Mouse-akowski’s cast is just for show at this point. She’s scamming you! She’s already healed, Joel. She could walk on it if she wanted. Hell, she can sprint from here all the way to that shanty she calls a house. She’s milking this for all its worth.”
“Kelly, she has a cast on. Do you think that’s fun? Of course, she’s healing. I would expect her to. I don’t really know when it comes off, and you know what? I don’t care. Because I think you’re going to be surprised at how little actually changes once it’s gone. I’m still going to be with Melissa. We’re together now.”
She sucks in a breath, and ten people turn to gawk at us. “As in what? A couple?” She mouths the last two words as if it were blasphemy to speak them out loud.
“Yes, as in a couple.” I glance at the clock, and the bell is set to ring in less than thirty seconds. “Attention, please”—I say out loud with a little more enthusiasm than I bargained for—“Melissa Malinowski and I are officially together. We’ve been going around for weeks. As you were.” The bell rings loud and sharp right over our heads, and it happens to go off at the same time Kelly opens her mouth in a scream of horror.
I gather my things and get the hell out of Dodge.
Second best moment of my life, right there.
My arm flies back as Kelly spins me around.
“Guess what?” She leans in, nostrils flaring. “I’m feeling ready—and I’m coming after her hard.” She takes off, and my spirits deflate.
There’s no way she can wreck what I have with Mel.
I won’t let her.
* * *
There’s no game Friday, so all of the focus falls to Saturday night, Halloween. I can’t remember the last time it fell on a weekend, probably because I was eleven.
“You look like a douche,” Russell says, inspecting me from over my shoulder as I smudge my lower lid with my sister’s eyeliner. I’ve got a tire mark
over my white Glen jersey, and I’m making my face look as if I’ve been trashed in a car wreck.
“You’re a douche,” I shoot back. Actually, Russ looks pretty cool with his shredded Levi’s and Van Halen T-shirt we picked up on their tour a couple of years back. He’s supposed to be a guy at a Van Halen concert, which is a pretty genius way of not actually dressing up and doing it at the same time.
“What’s Mel got to say about the fact you’re essentially mocking her?”
“I’m not mocking her—like some people. And it was her idea. We’ve both been run over by a car. By each other—that was her little twist on it.”
“She’s run you over all right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I bruise up the left side of my face with blue and purple eye shadow. “Why do girls wear this shit?”
“To answer your first question, you’re pussy-whipped. And to answer your second question, to pussy-whip you.”
“I’m not pussy-whipped.” I am, but I won’t admit to it. A goofy grin breaks out on my face as I grab my flannel and my keys. “Let’s get out of here, man. I need to get to my girl.” I sock him in the arm, and he socks me back as we share a laugh.
I am pussy-whipped. I don’t really give a shit who knows it.
Melissa says she’s showing up with Stacey tonight. I guess that reunion she had with her friend Jennifer was short-lived. I haven’t seen her around Mel all week. It must suck for both of them.
The party tonight is at Cheryl Helle’s. Since her last name lends itself to the holiday, her home has lovingly been called the Helle House for as long as I’ve known her. Cheryl’s parents have always gone all out with creepy decorations, most of which are downright sick and twisted, the oversized fake rats gnawing off the heads of bloodied dolls—dolls hanging from a noose in the shower—the gourmet buffet that looks like innards. Can’t say it’s not appreciated. Everyone loves the fact they go all out.
We head in through the backyard where most people are hanging out. The Ramones’ “Judy is a Punk” vibrates through the air and sets the celebratory mood. The sun just set, so the purple lights overhead cast an eerie glow over the landscape. I spot Kelly first, the killer nurse, as in she’s wielding a hatchet. She looks hot, but I couldn’t care less. I’ve already told both Russell and Frankie to have at her, but to enter at their own risk.
The crowd swells with every cheap dime store costume present and accounted for, every sexed-up version of a fairy tale that’s ever existed, and that’s just the girls. For the most part, the guys are sporting T-shirts and jeans much like myself, minus the wounded face art and tire track.
“Do you see Melissa?”
Russell leans in. “No, but I see a banging nurse I got to see about my aching dick.” He takes off in Kelly’s direction.
“She’ll rip it off if you’re not careful!” Heck, he’ll deserve it for playing with fire.
There’s a keg in the corner, and standing to the left is a familiar pair of crutches. Mel has her back to me, but I can tell it’s her from the long brown waves, the way she wiggles her hips when she’s intently listening to someone. She’s there with a guy, and my gut cinches at the sight. It’s Peter, and I frown at him before I ever get there.
“Rebel Rebel” blasts over the speakers next, and I rock to the rhythm of David Bowie’s voice, suddenly feeling good about the night.
I wrap my arms around Mel from behind and steal a kiss off her lips. Her makeup is done pretty wild, and she looks exotic, so perfectly stunning my heart pumps with an erratic thud as if it’s on its final lap.
“You look gorgeous.” I dot her lips with another kiss.
“You look pretty good for the undead yourself.”
“I thought you said we were wounded?”
“Yeah, but dead sounds like we just took it to the next level.”
“I’m all for the next level,” I whisper into her ear. “Dead, it is.”
“That’s my cue.” Peter steps in close to her. “You need me, you know where to find me.”
I wait until he’s gone to pick her up and spin her. “Missed you.”
“I missed you.”
“How come your friends still think I’m a dick? Not that I care, but my balls would appreciate a cease-fire in the least.”
“Because they’re dicks. It screws with your dick radar when you are one,” she teases. “Hey, Stacey asked if I could spend the night at her house tonight. She mentioned her parents are out of town, and she’s really freaked out about it.”
“What?” I glance around, uneasy. The words Kelly shouted in my face yesterday still haunt me. “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not? We’ve hung out for like forever now, and she’s been nice enough to take me to a few parties. We went to the mall together last week. That’s practically a rite of passage between girls.”
“Didn’t you mention she stole a bunch of earrings?” I hate that Melissa is getting caught up with Stacey the Shoplifter. She’s never been the best person to be around. I can’t understand this friendship they’ve got going except for the fact they have a shared dislike toward Kelly. And truthfully, I don’t think Melissa hates Kelly. She’s way too nice for that. I’m sure if Kelly wanted to be friends, Mel would be up for it. She’s just that sweet.
“They fell in her pocket.” She winks, pulling me in. Melissa takes a look around at the people twisting in our direction. We haven’t exactly been giving any more PDAs at school, other than that kiss we shared at the game a few weeks back. “Is it okay if I kiss you?” Her lips quiver when she asks.
“That’s funny. I was just thinking about kissing you.” I lean forward, and her lips meet with mine, soft, strawberry-scented, and oven hot. Melissa’s kisses taste wild and sweet, and leave me craving for more the second our lips part. We take our time, slow, then pick up the pace. I can hear the murmurs of the crowd growing like a plague, the strangulating silence every few seconds in between. But Melissa and I are lost in a world of our own making, something that those around us can only hope to achieve.
I run my lips up her temple. “Guess who’s the birthday girl tomorrow?” She mentioned earlier that she has a family thing after church, but she’s agreed to go out to dinner with me. I’ve been working all week on her gift, and I hope she likes it.
“I don’t know who the birthday girl is, but I know who the birthday princess is.” She wrinkles her nose, and I dot it with a kiss. “We don’t have to go anywhere fancy. I don’t want you wasting your money on me.”
I inch back. “You’re never a waste.” I press a kiss over her lips. “I’m starting to think my positive reinforcement of your self-deprecation is working against me.”
“Still loving those three-dollar words.” She sucks in a quick breath. “Oh, I totally forgot to tell you. I sent in my essay. I should hear back sometime next week. I really hope I get in. Teen has been my favorite magazine for as long as I can remember.”
“Of course, you’re going to get in. You’re going to win, too.”
“That would be a nice belated birthday gift.” She shrugs. Her eyes never leave mine. “You know what else I’d like for my birthday?”
“Double chocolate malted crunch?” She’s only recently clued me in on her obsession, and I’m right there with her. That stuff is seriously addictive. That was the one flavor Kelly wouldn’t eat because she thought the malt balls looked like fish eyes. Typical.
“Maybe”—she winces—“but only if it’s spread all over you.”
I tilt my head as if to ask the question.
“That’s right. I’m ready.” She bites down on her lip so hard I half expect her to bite right through. “I’m totally sure I want to do this, so, if you’re in, I’m in.” She leans in until our noses touch. “Technically, you would be inside of me.”
A soft laugh pushes through my chest. All those nights dreaming of being with Melissa are about to come true. I’ve wanted this for a while, but I also wanted to give h
er all the time she needed.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. It’s my seventeenth birthday. That will make it that much more special. I couldn’t think of a better birthday gift from you. I want this.” Her finger runs a soft revolution over my lips. “I want everything with you.”
I glance down at her leg. The cast is much shorter than the previous one, and it’s made a world of a difference as far as getting around. “You think we should wait?”
“My leg doesn’t care. It might even make things interesting.”
“That’s for sure.”
“So, we’re going to do it?” She gives a hopeful nod, her eyes widening like the wings of a dove.
“We’re going to do it.”
8
Owner of a Lonely Heart
Melissa
I’ve been to Stacey Riley’s house once before, and it was strictly party-related, so seeing her home from the inside, empty—no less, is quite a different experience.
“I like love your house. It’s so modern, you know?” I say as Stacey hops around the kitchen hunting for food. She doesn’t respond, so I try again without tapping into the Valley Girl in me this time. “I love the way your mom decorates. Peach is my favorite color. Your refrigerator’s nice, too. We don’t have a side-by-side. We still have a stupid Norge. Even worse, it’s maroon.” I stick my finger down my throat for effect, but it’s entirely lost on her. “Whoever thought maroon was a good color for a refrigerator is an idiot. Not that my parents are idiots. God, no.” Geez. Can I stop talking? Can she say something at least? The most she’s said to me since we left the party was be quick, when she dropped me off at home to get my stuff. My mom even came out to the driveway to say hello. And when Mom asked her if she had a good time tonight, she outright ignored her. I’m beginning to think Stacey is a major bitch.