Glass - 02

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Glass - 02 Page 22

by Ellen Hopkins


  We jerk apart, and there’s

  LaTreya, hands on hips.

  Okay, this one isn’t nanny

  material. It’s up to the daddy

  in question to assuage her ire.

  But he sputters, helpless, so

  I offer, “I’m just thanking him

  for fixing my car. Okay, honey?”

  No! It’s not okay. He’s my

  daddy, and daddies are only

  supposed to kiss mommies.

  You’re not my mommy, so you

  better not kiss him anymore!

  She storms into the other room.

  Brad smiles apologetically.

  Sorry bout that. Jeez, she’s

  more like her mother than I

  imagined. Who knew such

  a little girl could have such

  a big temper—or opinions?

  I’ve never really asked

  about Angela before. This

  seems like as good a time as

  any. “Tell me about Angela.

  What happened between

  you? Why did she leave?”

  He shakes his head. Not

  much to say. We got married

  and had kids, right out of high

  school. One day she said she

  needed some space. Guess

  she found some she likes.

  He Drops It

  And so do I, but thinking

  about leaving kids behind

  has made me want to see

  Hunter. I pick up the phone.

  “Hey, Mom. My car’s on the

  road again. I thought I’d

  drop by this afternoon. Uh,

  maybe around three?”

  I’m meeting Grady at five,

  Brendan a half hour later.

  That should give me plenty of

  time to reconnect with my baby.

  Brad weighs out an ounce

  into eight balls. I’m not exactly

  sure how much they’ll want,

  or how much they can pay.

  He is rightly concerned.

  Promise you’ll be extra careful.

  An ounce is trafficking—

  definitely heavy jail time.

  “Hey, no worries. I’ll drive

  like an old woman. The last

  thing I want is to get popped.

  I’m too busy to spend time in jail.”

  Brad walks me to my car,

  looks right and left before

  bending down to kiss me.

  Call if you’ll be late, okay?

  I’m going to worry until

  you get home. He’d probably

  worry a lot more if he knew

  just who I’d lined up to score.

  The Roads Are Dry

  The car’s running great, and I feel no

  sense of fear, despite the large quantity

  of fine Mexican methamphetamine

  beneath the front seat. It’s a forty-

  minute drive home, at the speed limit,

  and I have to admit getting away

  from Red Rock, Brad, and the girls feels

  like freedom. Guess I’m finding space I like.

  On a lark, I hit Trey’s number on my speed

  dial. I about drop the phone when he actually

  answers, and on the second ring. Hey, you.

  Must be ESP. I was just thinking about you.

  My first thought is, He’s thinking about

  me! [My first thought is, Yeah, right.]

  We talk for ten minutes and every doubt

  about what he feels for me dissolves.

  There are a few uncomfortable moments,

  like when he asks, So, what’s up with Brad?

  The Bree in me has a ready smart-ass answer,

  which I quickly squelch in favor of telling him

  Brad fixed my car. [Oh, he fixed more than

  that, didn’t he?] But Trey’s next query, about

  “availability,” elicits an “Oh, duh” moment.

  When I tell him, “No problem,” he says,

  Cool. I’m thinking about a quick trip over

  the mountain. You’ll be around, won’t you?

  Well, where else would I be, especially with

  him coming? My heart hammers, blood

  pumping wildly until I pull into Mom’s driveway

  and realize he’s coming more for glass than for me.

  That’s What’s on My Mind

  When Scott opens the door.

  Hello, Kristina. Cool as sleet.

  He gives me a noticeable up-

  down-and-sideways, and if he’s

  half as savvy as he thinks he is,

  he has to know the score.

  Regardless, he steps aside, lets

  me in. Jake comes out of the

  kitchen, carrying Hunter. How

  long since I’ve seen him? Two

  months—just after Christmas—

  and he’s grown. Changed.

  His hair falls in long dark waves,

  almost to the bottom of his neck.

  His coos and gurgles sound

  suspiciously like words: M-m-m-a.

  When he spots me, he smiles, and

  beyond his lips are two little teeth.

  I reach for him and he draws

  back, seeking safety in Jake’s

  arms. Anger flares, but only

  briefly. After all, thanks to Mom,

  he knows Jake better, trusts

  Jake more than he trusts me.

  Your mother had to run into Reno,

  says Scott. Jake, why don’t you

  put Hunter in his walker? I

  follow them into the family room.

  Comfortable in his baby bumper

  car, Hunter rises up on his tiptoes.

  He scoots across the hardwood,

  laughing. Finds the TV, punches

  at buttons without success.

  He’s determined. Determined,

  like the person he so resembles,

  the one I’ll see much too soon.

  Being Here

  At home

  seems kind

  of surreal. Okay,

  maybe that’s partly

  because I’m two-days

  buzzed, brain a little fuzzy.

  Beyond that, I know the room

  upstairs still has purple butterflies,

  fluttering on mauve walls. [Are you

  sure? Maybe it’s an office, with turquoise

  angelfish on blue walls.] No, I don’t think so.

  Being here with Hunter is weird too. Kind of a

  synthetic state of mother- hood, not so different from

  being a nanny, because I know no matter what I do,

  no matter how fucked up I am or become, he’s not

  really my responsibility. Okay, morally, Hunter is

  my responsibility. But Mom took it upon herself

  to usurp the mommy role, so great. She taught me a

  lesson. But who’s really getting hurt here? Not me.

  [Huh. Really? Well, you sure could have fooled me.]

  I Leave Without Seeing Mom

  And that’s fine by me. Nothing

  to say to her, anyway.

  Nothing.

  Next stop, Grade E. We set up

  the meet at his house.

  Not far.

  He opens the door and his eyes

  practically pop

  clear out

  of his skull. Wow. You look

  great. See? What

  did I tell you?

  Guys like girls thin. “Uh, can

  I come in?” He steps

  out of my way,

  ushers me back to his bedroom.

  Mom won’t be home

  till later,

  so we’re cool. We sit on his bed,

  and that makes me

  slightly uncomfortable.

  When I open the baggie,


  give him a taste, he

  just about

  goes ape shit. That’s what

  I’m talking about.

  Where

  did this come from? Local?

  He’s right where

  I need him to be.

  So I say, “I can get more.

  But it isn’t cheap.”

  He makes a buy.

  A half ounce. And he says,

  I’ll be calling for more.

  Perfect

  I made a nice little profit,

  plan to make a bigger

  profit at my next stop.

  Brendan and I hook

  up around back

  at the Sev.

  Can’t do

  the deal here.

  Get in, he says, but

  I insist “No, we’ll take

  my car.” It’s bigger. Safer.

  And, behind the wheel, I’ve got

  the power. We drive in silence

  a mile or so up Virginia Grade.

  Despite being gravel,

  the road is icy, the

  shoulders piled

  with snow.

  It will be

  tough to turn

  around, so I keep

  driving until I find a place

  where I can do that. I want to

  be parked in the direction of quick

  escape. Just in case. Finally Brendan

  says, I was surprised you called.

  Yeah, me too. “Water

  under the bridge,” I

  answer. What

  else can I

  say—I

  want your cash?

  But it’s really hard to

  look at him, especially after

  just being with my baby. His

  baby. Our baby. God, that stings.

  He Wants a Sample

  I’m generous with that.

  We smoke three bowls,

  and as the ice does what

  it’s supposed to do, his

  eyes take on the glow

  of the monster. Major

  déjà vu. Have I made

  an irreversible mistake?

  Not bad, he says. You

  fucking the guy you

  got it from? There’s

  the Brendan I know

  and hate. The worst

  part is, he’s right. “No,

  he’s fucking me. So,

  are you in or what?”

  A slip of the tongue,

  and he pounces on it.

  It might be a little tight,

  with the steering wheel

  and all, but I’m game

  if you are. He’s a nervy

  bastard, I’ll give him that.

  He smiles a Yeah, so?

  Stay cool. He brought

  money. “Thanks for

  the offer, but I’ve got

  someone waiting.”

  Then he says something

  completely unexpected.

  I saw your mom with your

  baby the other day.

  I knew it was your mom

  because she looks like you.

  I knew it was your baby

  because he looks…

  He can’t know. I won’t

  let him. I’ll deny it until

  the day I die—or he does.

  I hold my breath.

  …like you, too.

  Too Close for Comfort

  Time to go before we get any closer.

  “So, how much do you want?

  Uh, how much ice do you want?”

  He smiles. I’ll take a ball,

  if you’ll front it to me.

  Okay, now I’m just pissed. “Sorry,

  cash and carry. Godammit, I

  ain’t the Bank of America.”

  I’m just a little short and I

  don’t get paid until Friday.

  “So why did you say you were

  interested? It’s not like we’re friends.

  You expect me to trust you?”

  Why not? We were friends once, weren’t

  we? He dares put a hand on my knee.

  [Stay calm. He could bust you.] Calmly

  I push his hand off my knee. “How

  much money do you have on you?”

  Seventy or eighty dollars. Is that

  enough for a down payment?

  “On a gram. But all I have weighed

  out are eight balls, and they’re three

  fifty.” I can’t afford stupidity.

  He counts the contents of his wallet.

  Eighty-six dollars. The rest on Friday?

  If he actually calls with the money,

  I’ll have to see him twice in one week.

  He’ll probably rip me off. So why

  do I say okay?

  At Least He Didn’t Try

  To steal the stuff.

  [Give him time.]

  At least he didn’t try

  to rape me.

  [Ditto.]

  At least he didn’t decide

  Hunter was his baby.

  [Double ditto.]

  Sometimes the little things

  in life mean the most.

  [Everything in your

  life is little.]

  Would you get the fuck

  out of here? I can’t double-

  think everything.

  [Split personalities

  are indeed a bitch.]

  Am I totally schizo?

  [Close. But there’s

  a bigger question.]

  Oh, yeah?

  Like what?

  [Which half is the real you?]

  Wired (Weird) Out of My Tree

  I won’t eat tonight.

  Won’t sleep tonight.

  Won’t want to deal

  with inane questions,

  prime-time TV, or Barbie.

  Luckily, Brad has fed

  the girls, bathed the girls,

  and they’re playing

  quietly in their room.

  Perfect.

  What I’m focused on

  now is Trey, and when

  [if] he’ll arrive. I sit in

  my room, waiting.

  Smoking.

  Waiting.

  Toking.

  Waiting.

  Waiting.

  Finally, There’s a Knock

  “Come in,” I call softly.

  (The girls must be asleep

  by now—almost midnight.)

  My heart stutters. Crow

  hops. Bucks wildly. But

  it isn’t Trey. [Told you.]

  Brad’s head pops through

  the door. You’ve been awfully

  quiet. Everything go okay?

  I’m disappointed. But at

  least I’m not alone. “Like

  clockwork. Come on in.”

  We do what you do when

  you’re wasting an evening,

  playing with the monster.

  Finally, the clock betrays

  that it’s well after two A.M.

  Trey isn’t coming after all.

  Guess I should at least

  pretend to sleep. Brad stands,

  pauses by the door.

  Choices. Choices. This

  choice is all mine to make.

  “Want some company?”

  Long About the Time

  The sun shows its face, I am spent,

  woozy, not quite asleep. Brad has

  managed to slip into dreams and I

  listen to his shallow breathing.

  It’s hypnotic, and I steal lower

  and lower toward the nowhere

  place between consciousness

  and blessed sleep. Somewhere

  there’s a noise. A door closes.

  Footsteps? On the stairs? I can’t

  move. I’m weighted, shackled.

  I should. I must. But I’m close

  to oblivion. My door creaks open.


  The long, silent pause tells me

  it isn’t one of the girls. Footsteps

  across the floor. I’m afraid.

  Rooted. Not even the sound of

  fabric falling against the carpeting

  convinces me to move. Somehow,

  this person is familiar.

  Behind me, the sheets part.

  Move over, Trey whispers, and

  I do and it makes no difference

  that Brad is semisoundly sleeping

  beside us. Trey pulls me to him

  and I stiffen, terrified of what he

  must be thinking. It’s okay, he

  whispers, and we’re making love.

  Two Guys, One Bed

  It’s really too weird.

  [Yeah, but kind of nice.]

  What has happened to my

  morals,

  my sense of right, wrong?

  [Way overrated.] Shit, I’m

  a one-woman Sodom and

  Gomorrah, awaiting

  transformation.

  I hope Trey [and/or Brad]

  likes salt, ’cause I’ll soon

  be a regular pillar, in

  exchange for this brand of

  sin.

  Trey definitely must like

  salt. It’s bad enough that I

  felt like it was okay to be

  jam between slices of

  bread.

  But why doesn’t Trey care

  about finding me in bed

  with Brad? His cousin, yet.

 

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