by Lin Kaymer
We sit at a round table on the side, about two-thirds of the way back from the stage and against the wall. Bounding with excitement, Wes takes off to say hello to some guys he knows at another table, Angela in tow.
A waitress shows up to take our order.
“What would you like?” she asks.
“We’ll have two pitchers of root beer and three baskets,” Wendy answers.
I like her take-charge attitude. The root beer will be a cold relief for my pizza-scorched mouth, and the baskets will come loaded with thick-cut, herbed sweet potato fries. That’s another thing all of us like about Cisco’s: cold drinks and carbohydrate sticks.
I give Wendy a smile and mouth the words “thank you.”
Mackie nudges me. “Do you know anyone else here?”
“I don’t think so.”
Cisco’s is a place for Seattleites to hang. The hall was a nightclub originally, so it still has a bar with a long wall mirror and bar stools. But the alcohol is gone and the sound system has been upgraded.
Mackie and I talk with Ty and Wendy until the food arrives, then everyone munches as the band finishes its sound check. I make sure the fries have cooled before putting even one in my mouth.
When the music starts, it is hot. The bass is so heavy that I feel sound waves ripple through my body. I see Mackie open her eyes wide, surprised at the strong vibration. People around us jump up and dance, some crazier than others. We stand, swaying to the beat, and watch.
At the end of the first half hour, the band takes a few minutes to change up some of their instruments. Mackie and I look at each other and grin. As Wes offers his opinions about the music, I slide my chair closer to Mackie.
“Do you like them?” I ask.
“The lead singer sounds fantastic. How can she hit those high notes, and then get so low right away?” she says, her eyes sparkling. “And the energy is . . . Wes was right.”
“Yeah,” I say, putting my arm around the back of her chair. “It’s cool. Wish we had something like this on the island.” Mackie nods her agreement.
When the band resumes, their pace is still white-hot. Soon everyone in the club stands up, stomping to the beat. I put an arm around Mackie’s waist and she does the same with me. Hot? More like flash point.
At the end of the first hour, our waitress shows up again, and we order another pitcher of root beer and ask for water. Mackie turns to talk with Erica, and I make my way to the restroom. Heading back to our table, I see him. Brody.
He stands talking with some guys I don’t know. He has on his Soltrice High letter jacket and pokes a finger in one guy’s chest. His face is red. I scan for Jilly, but can’t find her. That isn’t good. What is he doing here? His being at the club doesn’t compute for me. Cisco’s is pretty tame for Brody.
I walk back to the table, and feel edgy with worry. Mackie is gone.
Erica sees me and waves. “Mackie and Wendy are in the ladies’ room.”
“Oh, thanks.” I feel relief pour through my body. Has Brody seen her? Probably. We have a big table that would draw his attention.
I half listen as Wes describes another band scheduled for Cisco’s next month, but keep my eyes glued to the opening of the ladies’ room. When Mackie and Wendy walk out, I look over at Brody. He is clearly watching for someone. He smirks when he sees Mackie, and turns back to his friends. My muscles tense like springs.
Mackie stops to talk with Erica before sitting down next to me. I still feel jittery about the look I saw Brody give Mackie. Does she know why he’s here?
“Ah, your former friend is here tonight,” I say, trying to stay cool.
With a cute smile, she leans forward and rests her hand on my knee. “Who? Where?” she asks.
I don’t answer her because the MC begins announcing Cisco’s calendar of upcoming bands.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, and take her hand in mine.
Brody has moved away from the juice bar and I can’t see where he’s gone. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Is Brody here by coincidence? He doesn’t associate with any of my friends, so how could he know that we would be here tonight?
“When we get back to the island, do you want to come to my house? We could watch a late movie or something,” Mackie suggests.
“Sounds good,” I say, looking straight into her happy eyes. I am so, so lucky.
Then the band starts to play again and I loose track of any worries about Brody as Mackie stands and sways in time to the beat with me. The music replaces all of my worries with waves of surging guitar and keyboard.
At the end of the first set, we leave the club and head eight blocks over and downhill to the ferry. By skipping and speed walking, we arrive at the dock just in time to make the boat. Everyone is in great form. The music has jacked us up. Our energy can take over the world!
Wes drops Ty off first, and then drives us to Mackie’s house.
“Be good,” Wes warns me. “You, too, missy,” he adds, pointing both of his index fingers at Mackie.
She blows him an air kiss, laughs and says, “I’m not making any promises, but thank you so much for driving.”
Mr. Spence walks out of the kitchen and calls to us, “How about it? Want to watch a classic film? We’re just about to see another of the Pink Panther movies. One with Peter Sellers.”
“Oh, those are the best,” says Mackie, clapping her hands.
We both nod. I’ve seen two other Pink Panther movies, and they were hilarious.
I pull out my cell phone, call my mom, and speak in a rush. “Hi. Mackie and I are back at her house. I’m going to stay and watch a film. I’ll be late, okay?”
“Ask your folks if they’d like to join us,” Mr. Spence calls out. “Plenty of popcorn for every one.”
“Mr. Spence wonders if you and Dad want to come over, too,” I say, biting my lip.
“No, honey. I’m tired and Dad’s already asleep. Be quiet when you come in,” Mom says.
“Sure.”
“Did you have fun at the club?” she asks.
“Yeah, it was great. I’ll be quiet. ’Bye,” I say, as we move to sit at the end of the great room with a big screen.
Mrs. Spence says hello to me as Noelle races to take her favorite chair. Mackie and I sit together on a small couch, and her parents sit near us on another.
This is the first time I’ve been with her family in one room since Mackie and I started seeing each other. It feels weird, but not too bad at the same time. Since I’ve known the Spences for years, I’m sort of okay. Her parents aren’t acting any differently. I want to put my arm around Mackie. Will they accept my new role in her life?
Mackie solves the problem. She nudges me with her shoulder, then reaches over to hold my hand. Just like that, we announce that we’re more than friends. No one acts differently toward us, and I relax as the movie begins. In a few minutes, I put my arm around her shoulder. Soon, all of us are laughing at Inspector Clouseau and his sidekick, Cato.
The movie finishes around one o’clock. But I’m still keyed up from the day. Mackie’s parents say goodnight and Noelle drags herself off, making a ferret face at us as she leaves.
Mackie and I walk outside to the front porch. The night has turned cool and I shrug into my jacket, then pull Mackie in and wrap it around her, too.
She stretches up and whispers in my ear, “It was fun tonight, but I always feel good with you. It doesn’t matter what we do.”
As we kiss, I believe she is right. Being around Mackie is the best. I run home knowing I’ve never been happier. I love her. There it is. The feeling I have for her is love. In fact, it feels great that she means everything to me.
CHAPTER 8
Sunday morning I jolt awake from another dream about Mackie and dark water, but this time she calls out to me for help. It’s really more of a nightmare than a dream.
I shake my head and try to get rid of the image of Mackie and the darkness, but the pleading look she had on her face in the nightmare stays with me
. Reaching for my cell phone, I send her a message:
gr8 nite HRU?
I’m trying to make it a friendly question. She doesn’t answer right away, so I get dressed and head downstairs to see about breakfast.
But first I see Mom, alone, in the family room working with a sketchpad. She has three studios to teach this semester and spends Sunday mornings on her own work.
“Hi,” I say.
She looks up, startled.
Jeremy. What movie did you see?”
“It was a Pink Panther film. There’s this scene where Inspector Clouseau and Cato demolish a hotel room that’s amazing. Were all Peter Sellers’ movies from the ’60s and ’70s that funny?”
“You know, that was before my movie time, too. But maybe we should see some of those. You’ve talked about the Pink Panther films before.”
“Yeah, I think you and Dad would like them. Justin, too.”
“Okay. How are you and Mackie getting along?”
I squirm. “Fine. We’re fine. When’s brunch?” I ask.
“In about an hour. Do you need something now?”
My stomach growls. “Yeah, maybe a little.”
“Then have some fruit and yogurt.”
The rest of the day, I am out of it, as in dragging-myself-around out of it. With two late nights in a row, I’ve hit my sleep wall. After brunch, I take a nap, and wake to find a message from Mackie that she’ll meet me at the shelter. We have no new intakes, which is good, because both Mackie and I look like two-toed sloths, moving in slow motion through our chores. After our shift ends, we push ourselves out the main door and walk home slowly. After dinner, I finally get to my homework, and am in bed by nine o’clock on a Sunday night.
The week flies by. Monday, seated next to Mackie at lunch, I think about my now serene world. I had to look that word up for one of our literature assignments. Serene: peaceful, calm, untroubled. That’s how I feel sitting next to her. Okay, when I first see her, my heart thunders like it’s next to my ears, but I’ve become used to that.
Wednesday night, Mackie and I study French together at her house. Noelle looks bored, so we must be doing something right.
Friday after school, Soltrice High hosts a triangular meet with Seattle Prep and O’Dea. Before the meet, at lunch, Mackie invites me to have dinner with her. She has to stay home with Noelle because her parents are taking a late afternoon ferry to have dinner in Seattle and attend some play with friends.
At the meet, my time isn’t as fast as at Riley City Park, but it’s decent. Brody has continued to ignore me during the week’s practices, and our truce holds during the race.
When I walk into the Spences’ house, Noelle announces with swirling hand flourishes, “Jeremy, you’re in for an extreme dining experience because I have taken the time to customize our pizza.”
I throw Mackie a puzzled look. “Customize?”
“Don’t get her started, please!” Mackie says, but it’s too late.
Noelle begins, in full, Suffering Southern Belle performance style, to describe an addition made to the extra-large frozen pizza.
“Firstly, my dear sister and I disagree on how a pizza pie should taste. But then, my sister has tastes that are quite ordinary.”
Mackie raises her eyebrows, folds her arms across her chest, and cocks her head at Noelle. In animal language, this would mean, “Caution. I don’t like what I’m hearing.”
Noelle continues. “And so, sir, I have taken it upon myself to make this a far more rarified and tasty offering. I’ve added chewy pieces of succulent baby toes. This is going to be one fabulous pizza. It’s going to be the best ever,” she says, clapping her hands together and looking at me with glee.
Turning to Mackie, I ask, “So what kind of pizza are we having?”
“Pepperoni with extra cheese,” she responds, shaking Noelle by both arms and laughing. “My ‘dear sister’ hasn’t touched this pie.”
I sigh in relief. The idea of damaging a perfectly good pizza sends shivers through me.
Noelle tosses her head, turns dramatically, and sits down. “Well I never!” She likes to have the last word.
While the pizza bakes, Mackie pulls us away from Noelle for a private conversation.
“How did it go today?” she asks.
“Good. We took the meet. Coach seemed happy.”
“That’s very good. What about Brody? Is he still being a jerk?”
“We don’t talk. Is he still bothering you?”
“Not as much as usual. Maybe he’s moved on with Jilly. It’s been a relief to not have him lurking around. But he still sends me messages. You know, he acts like he’s a great guy, but he can be really rude.” Mackie wrinkles her nose.
I’m not sure what she’s referring to, but asking would mean more time spent on Brody. It’s enough for me to know that she is finished with him. Still, what has he been writing to her that is ‘rude?’
Mackie’s phone music jingles, interrupting us.
“Hi, Jen. What’s up, cookie? Hey, Jeremy’s with me. Okay if I put us on speaker?”
Mackie taps her phone so I, too, can hear Jennifer’s excited voice. “Kyle Davenport’s having a par-taaaay!” Jen sings. “And he said it was okay for me to invite everyone.”
“What’s the occasion?” I ask. On the island there are parties and there are parties.
“One of his parents’ jumpers won a big title this week. They’re having a celebration tonight, and Kyle and his brother are asking their friends, too.”
“This isn’t a dinner, is it?” Mom says I have a way of looking a gift horse in the mouth, meaning that instead of saying “thank you” I ask more about the offer or gift. I am really on it tonight. I glance at Mackie. She doesn’t seem offended.
“Not dinner. We’ll hang out in the practice barn. Kyle’s uncles play in a band and Wes says they’re really good. He’ll be there.”
I keep looking at Mackie, who seems much calmer than Jen about going to this party.
“What do you think?” Mackie mouths.
“How about we get back with you in a few minutes?” I ask Jen.
“Okay, but you guys have to come. It’s going to be lots of fun,” she says.
After Mackie hangs up, Noelle gives us a big smile. “You two go ahead. I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t think so. You know we’ll both be in trouble if I leave you alone,” Mackie says. “But the party sounds like fun and the Davenports have amazing horses. I’ll call Mom.” Mackie taps her phone. Her face brightens. Mrs. Spence must still be having dinner.
“Mom. Everything’s okay. Jen called. One of the Davenports’ horses won a blue ribbon this week, and Kyle’s family is celebrating. Yeah, it’s wonderful. Jeremy and I are invited, too.” She is quiet for a bit. “Yes, I know. Jeremy’s with me, and I think Wes can pick us up. Jen sounds like she’s inviting everyone. I’ll be back by eleven. Okay?”
Another pause.
“Noelle. Mom wants to talk with you,” Mackie says, looking happy and handing her phone to her sister.
“Hi Mom,” Noelle says, in what I’ve come to recognize is her ‘I’m a responsible, young-adult-now’ voice. “I could call Mia and see what she’s doing. Uh-huh, right, I know. Right away.”
While Noelle phones her friend, I call my mom. “Mom. Mackie and I are invited to the Davenports’ house tonight. One of their horses won some prize. Is it okay to go?”
“You’re sure that there will be adults there? Kyle’s parents know about this right?” Mom replies.
“Yeah, it’s their party, and there will be lots of adults, like Kyle’s uncles and other people.”
“Who’s driving? You need to be home by eleven.”
“I’ll see if Wes can pick us up. Mackie has to be home by eleven, too, so I don’t think that will be a problem.”
“All right. Be safe.”
Meanwhile, Noelle is back on the phone with her mother. Mission accomplished. We will all go out this evening, Mackie a
nd I to Kyle’s, and Noelle to Mia’s house.
“Do you want me to find Wes?” Mackie asks.
“No, I’m on it,” I reply, grinning. “Good thing Wes likes to drive.” I type:
am at mackie’s can we catch a ride 2 kyle’s
Wes’ reply is immediate:
CU @ 8.
Mackie and Noelle have moved into the kitchen to cut the pizza, which smells fantastic, into pieces. With relief, I see that it looks like a normal pie. No customizing. I’ve just finished wolfing down a third slice when we hear Wes’ trademark downshift and sliding stop.
“The last time Wes was here, my dad asked him if he was being scouted by NASCAR,” Mackie says, as we start out of the kitchen. I grin and nod.
“Yeah, my dad said something about that, too.” I’d like to have a car and slide to a stop like Wes.
Mackie looks at Noelle. “When Mia’s mom picks you up, don’t forget to lock the front door,” she says.
Noelle rolls her eyes. “Okay, Mom.”
Mackie pulls a dark blue jacket off a clothes tree in the foyer, and we head out into the night air, ready for action.
“Jeremy! Mackie!” Wes sings. “We’re picking Angela up. Ty just got home, so he’ll be late. Maybe Wendy’s coming, too. I don’t know. Jen called everyone. This should be big. Have you guys been to the Double D?”
“I have,” Mackie says. “We go to their harvest dinners at the end of October. The horses are beautiful, but I like the lambs. They’re really cuddly. Noelle tried to put one in our car once and my mom was ready to kill her. Noelle, not the lamb.”
“Our end-of-season soccer team parties have been there. It’s a cool place.” I add.
When we pull up to her house, Angela waits on her front porch. Her dad comes out of the house and walks with her to our car, looks us over, and speaks to Wes. “There won’t be any drinking or drugging at this party, right?”
“No, sir. It’s Kyle’s parents’ party. So there’ll be lots of adults around,” Wes says.