Cloudburst

  “Okay. I’ll take care of it. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, obviously happy that she was doing me a favor and it wasn’t vice versa. “I’ll keep trying to do what I can to stop it.”

  “No! Don’t do anything. Don’t say anything, Jessica. The more you talk about it, the longer it lives,” I said. “Just ignore it.”

  I hurried to catch up to Ryder, not sure what I should do. If I told him what Jessica had just told me, I knew he would go absolutely ballistic on Summer and maybe even cause a big scene here at Pacifica. On the other hand, if I didn’t tell him and he found out what was being said very soon, which was quite possible, he might be angry with me for not warning him. Once the stories Summer was spreading reached all the boys in our class, especially a boy like Shayne Peters, they would be magnified and exaggerated. They would surely embarrass Ryder, I thought. I had no choice. I’ll have to tell him, I thought. The question was when was the most opportune time.

  He smiled as I entered class. We hadn’t known each other that long, but I saw that he could see something was bothering me. Why couldn’t I be a hard read like Kiera? Why wasn’t I blessed more with the powers of deception? Why was I so honest inside, especially after the things I had been through? One would think I had been trained by experts when Kiera and her friends abused me. Why was everyone else around here but me so comfortable behind a mask? Ryder’s eyebrows dipped toward each other as he raised his palms.

  “What’s up?” he asked just as the bell rang.

  “I’ll tell you after class,” I whispered.

  Since Jessica had told me what the topic of discussion had been during lunch, I looked around and saw from the expressions on the other students’ faces when they looked our way that Jessica was right. It was already all heard, digested, and believed by most. Of course, it made sense. Why wouldn’t they think the son of a very famous Hollywood star and a world-famous mother could get a girl to do anything? Suddenly, I was the one who was feeling abused by their fame, not Ryder.

  The moment the bell rang to end class, he was at me. All during class, I couldn’t concentrate. Jessica’s words echoed.

  “Well? What got you so upset?”

  “Your sister is spreading rumors about us,” I said.

  “What sort of rumors? Rumors about what?”

  My own anger had boiled over, and try as I might, I couldn’t restrain myself.

  “About yesterday, when I was at your house,” I said. I had to lower my voice because everyone was making a point of walking close to us in hopes of overhearing something they could spread.

  Ryder’s face reddened. “Tell me.”

  “All I heard was she’s been saying I did everything with you. She claims she saw us.”

  “Everything?”

  “Sexually, Ryder. Saying it that way leaves a lot to the imagination, and around here, imaginations have no limits or restrictions. According to Jessica, she’s telling everyone that I’m just another in a long line of girls you were able to take advantage of.”

  The blood rushed into his face. “I’ll take care of it,” he said.

  “Don’t make a scene in the school. Please wait until you get home. You’ll be falling right into her trap. She’s unhappy, so she wants you to be unhappy, Ryder. Maybe you should just make your parents sit down and talk to her, tell them what—”

  “I said I’ll take care of it. And I mean now!” he said, and charged ahead of me toward the classroom door.

  “Ryder!”

  Why didn’t I wait until the end of the day at least? I was sure he was heading for the junior high wing of the building. I hesitated just outside the classroom doorway and looked for him, hoping to call him back, but he didn’t even get to make the turn in the hallway. Apparently, Shayne Peters and Kory Taylor had stopped him and made some sort of dirty comment. Even from where I was standing, I could see Ryder was steaming. I started in his direction, hoping still to prevent any problems, but I didn’t get there in time.

  Ryder turned and then swung back with his books clutched between his hands, slapping Shayne so hard on the left side of his face that he spun and then fell forward. Without a pause, Ryder continued turning and hit Kory on the jaw. He didn’t fall, but he looked stunned. I shouted, “No!” but Ryder delivered a third blow, clubbing Kory just above his forehead. His legs gave out, and he sank to the hall floor.

  Mr. Huntington, one of the high school math teachers, was in his doorway. At first, he was too shocked to move, but then he shot out and threw his arms around Ryder, pulling him away from the other two. Shayne had gotten to his feet. He was a little unsteady, but he was determined to throw a punch and did. Mr. Huntington, who stood a good six foot three himself, turned his body so that the punch was deflected off his shoulder.

  By then, there was a big commotion in the hallway. Mr. Denacio came running from his classroom to help, and some of the other boys charged in to keep Shayne and Kory from going back at Ryder. All three were then directed to Dr. Steiner’s office. I stood there holding my breath. Jessica, Sydney, and Charlotte rushed to my side. There was still a lot of shouting going on, and other teachers were ordering the students to get to their classes.

  “What happened?” Jessica asked.

  I looked at her, the numbness in me receding and pure rage washing through my body.

  “Figure it out,” I said, then turned and headed toward my next class. I held my books tightly against my chest. My body was still trembling, and oddly, what I feared was that my limp would return.

  Practically everyone was late for class. After it settled down, I could feel that everyone’s eyes were on me. I didn’t look at anyone, but I didn’t hear much, either. It was as if a meteor had hit the building. It all had happened that quickly. I didn’t volunteer to answer any questions, and I didn’t take a single note. Occasionally, I glanced at the doorway, hoping Ryder would appear, but he never did. When the bell rang to end the period, my girlfriends were around me again, this time all trying to be comforting.

  I didn’t see Ryder at all for the remainder of the day. I didn’t see Shayne or Kory, either, for that matter, but by the end of the last period, word had spread that all three of them had been suspended and told to leave the building. This meant that none of them could return without his parents or a parent coming in to meet with Dr. Steiner. I headed for the parking lot, still bewildered.

  Jessica made a point of telling me that she had not said anything to anyone, especially Shayne and Kory.

  “I swear,” she said. “They heard it all from someone else.”

  “Okay, Jessica.”

  At the moment, I didn’t want to speak to any of them. They sensed it and kept their distance. When I stepped outside, I saw Summer standing with some other girls who were usually picked up by taxis or limousines. I realized that she had to be picked up that way since Ryder had been sent home, driven off the school grounds. It was probably for the best. I could just imagine him trying to drive and losing his temper at her at the same time.

  Maybe I was a little crazy by now. I knew it would shock my friends, but I walked over to Summer Garfield and asked her if she wanted a ride home.

  “What?” she asked, unsure that she had heard what she had heard.

  “I can bring you home.”

  “I’d never get into a car with you now.”

  “Why? Are you afraid of me?” I asked.

  She looked at the other girls, who were almost as shocked as she was. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t want to be in the same car with you,” she said, taking a step back.

  “I know what it’s like to hate yourself,” I told her. “You don’t know it yet, but I’m the best friend you have.”

  She was unable to think of anything to say. I smiled and walked away. When I got into my car, I turned on my cell phone and called Ryder. I thought he wasn’t going to pick up, but he did just before the message system clicked on.

&nb
sp; “Where are you?” I asked.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know, Ryder. Where are you?”

  “I’m on the beach at Santa Monica,” he said. “Just to the left of the pier.”

  “You didn’t go home yet?”

  “No. I don’t want to ever go home.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  “Are you sure you want to be seen with me?”

  “I said I’ll be right there.” I hung up before he could utter another word.

  The pier was always busy because of the restaurants, the merry-go-round, and the Ferris wheel. On weekends, it could be wall-to-wall with people, mostly tourists. I remembered how my mother and I would try to sell her calligraphy and my lanyards there because there were so many people in one small area, but the police usually moved us away. Sometimes we were just there to get something to eat ourselves. I recalled one time when my mother insisted we go on the Ferris wheel and I go on the merry-go-round.

  To me, even at that young age, it seemed to be a terrible waste of the little money we had at the time, but she was adamant. She so wanted us, especially me, to feel as though we had a normal life, even if it was only for twenty minutes. On that Ferris wheel and with me on the merry-go-round and her smiling and watching, we had put our misery on pause. Smiles and laughter were rare birds that flew in, alighted on our faces and in our hearts, and then left us longing for the whisper of their wings, the sound of their songs.

  I remember when we walked away from the pier, leaving the music and the chatter, the lights and the aromas of food behind and entering the darkness again. The pier was one place I had avoided all this time. I was afraid of the memory, like someone who was afraid that where she was now was really all a dream. The moment I was near or on the pier, I feared I would wake up and be homeless and lost again.

  However, it did seem to be a fitting place to meet Ryder now, considering how dark and unhappy we both were. After I parked, I walked slowly toward the pier and then turned left. The sun was still quite strong and bright, even though it was sinking into the western horizon. Back when Mama and I were homeless, the sunsets weren’t romantic. They were beautiful, of course. The clouds would sometimes take on a pink-grapefruit shade, and then the turquoise would deepen around the puffs. Other times, they just looked as if they were embarrassed and blushing. To me, they would brighten more as the sun dipped. It was like a last shout and cry.

  The reason we sat quietly as the sun set was that we knew darkness would soon follow. As if they had been sleeping under the sand, other homeless people would come out. We’d see people wandering without any particular destination in mind. It was simply important to keep moving, even if it was in a large circle. Mama used to say that they were all hoping for a train or a car that would stop to take them away. Some, the ones who were recently homeless, still had that spark of hope lighting their eyes, and some had already fallen through disbelief into a mindless oblivion, where they didn’t have to keep questioning and complaining or even hoping. They could drift like one of those lost clouds.

  Being here now, walking where I had once walked timidly, often terrified, tightened every muscle in my body the way someone would tighten up before the dentist put a drill in her mouth. The dryness in my mouth made my tongue feel like slate. For a moment, I couldn’t swallow. It was as if the air had disappeared around me. All sound dulled. My heart began to race. I could hear it beating in my ears. I felt light. Any moment, I might just get swept up in the breeze and drift out over the ocean like some human kite. I glanced quickly at some of the homeless people, the women with greasy, dirty hair, their cheeks red or smudged, and the men shuffling along in shoes too large or too tight. No one seemed to look at me. Perhaps instead of them becoming invisible, I had become invisible.

  I stepped onto the sand, slipped off my shoes to walk more easily, and searched the beach for a sign of Ryder. I didn’t have to go far. He was almost directly in front of me, sitting with his back to me, his arms around his pulled-up knees, his head down. I hurried toward him.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He turned, looked at me, and then looked out at the ocean. I sat beside him.

  “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have told you so fast,” I began.

  “What? You think those guys wouldn’t have started teasing me if you hadn’t told me what Summer had done? You had nothing to do with it.”

  “What did they say?”

  “You don’t want to hear it,” he said, and threw a handful of sand at the water.

  “What’s going to happen now?”

  “My parents will find a way to blame it mainly on me.”

  “But why? They’ve already had problems with your sister. It won’t be a surprise.”

  “They’ve had problems with both of us. My sister is an idiot. They said that if things didn’t work out here, they’d send us both to more military-style schools. I’m not going to any place like that.”

  “What will you do?”

  “Disappear,” he said. “Like you did out here.”

  “You don’t want to do that,” I said.

  He stared at the sand and then looked at me. “I don’t know what I want to do.”

  “Then I’ll tell you what to do. Go home. Yes, apologize for losing your temper, but also explain how hard Summer made it for you today.”

  “My father will say what he always says. ‘You should have known better.’ No matter what, it’s always that. Like I have this committee of advisers with me all the time, and I would always know the best way to handle anything, but I don’t listen. Look, even though I’ve told you some of it, you really don’t know. No one knows how we live, what my family life is like, if you want to call it a family life. You saw some inkling of it yesterday, but in case it didn’t sink in, I’ll tell you. My parents are totally into themselves. End of story,” he said, and stood. “I guess I’ll go home and let them play their parts.”

  I started to rise, and he took my arm to guide me up and into his arms.

  For a moment, he just held me, and then he kissed me. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that kiss, that moment. Yes, it was like some very romantic movie scene, the two of us on the beach, the ocean in the background, the breeze lifting strands of my hair, the terns circling as if they were part of it.

  But the truth was, it wasn’t one of those “I love you so much” kisses. He was kissing me and holding me as if he would never see me again. It felt more like a kiss good-bye than a kiss of love.

  “You’re something special,” he whispered, still pressing me to him. “I wouldn’t even bother to put up a fight if it weren’t for you.”

  “Then put up a big fight,” I told him.

  He finally smiled.

  Hand in hand, we walked back up the beach toward the pier. Neither of us spoke until we arrived at where we had to part to go to our cars.

  “Will you call me later and let me know how it went?” I asked.

  “Why ruin your night?”

  “If you don’t call, my night will be ruined.”

  “Okay,” he said. He kissed me again. “I’ll keep my temper under control, take the verbal whipping, say whatever I need to say, and keep my fingers crossed behind my back.”

  “Fingers crossed behind your back?”

  “Don’t you know that when you say something, make a promise, but keep your fingers crossed, it doesn’t matter if you’re lying? I wouldn’t have known that, either. I don’t think it’s a big thing now, but it used to be. I saw it in a television movie my father was in. He had a son who did that.”

  To illustrate, Ryder held his right hand up with his middle finger crossing his index finger.

  “I read that it dates back to a belief that it would ward off witches or other evil spirits. Maybe I’ll do it every time I’m around my sister.”

  “Don’t hate her,” I said.

  He pulled his head back. “Don’t hate her? If anyone shoul
d, you should be the one who hates her today.”

  “I’ve seen what that kind of hatred does, and not to the person you hate but to yourself.”

  He shook his head. “You sure you’re not an angel or something?”

  “Hardly.” I looked back at the boardwalk. “When we were living out there, there was this homeless woman who was a practicing psychic. I know that’s kind of a trite character in movies, the vagabond person who utters some prophecy.”

  “Like the blind soothsayer in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.”

  “Exactly. I saw lots of people give her money to get their fortunes told. Even other homeless people would do it. She would hold a person’s hand, close her eyes, and make some very dramatic statement.”

  “What made her so special, especially if she was homeless?”

  “There were many reasons people were homeless. There were stories about some of the people we saw, stories that they had enough money to rent a room but would rather live the way they were living. Maybe they were crazy. I don’t know. She made enough money to survive. I did ask my mother why she could make predictions, and she told me to ask her, so one day, I did. The three of us were eating some sandwiches, sitting on a bench.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she had the ability to feel either the love or the hate in people, and if there was more hate, she could predict unhappiness ahead, but if there was more love, she could feel pretty certain that they would eventually find happiness if they didn’t have it. That was it. The whole thing.”

  He smiled and shook his head at me. “You sound like a New Age priestess or something.”

  “There’s nothing new about that idea. Ever hear ‘Love your neighbor’?”

  “Okay. I’m convinced. I won’t hate my sister. I’ll thank her for being a bitch today.”

  “Don’t thank her. Just try asking her why she did it.”

  “That’s easy. She hates me because my parents made me her personal policeman.”

  “Find some common ground, Ryder. Make her see you don’t relish the role your parents gave you to play.”

  “I should be afraid of you,” he said after a long moment.