by Amy Ross
I don’t really start to worry until Monday morning when he doesn’t show up to school. No matter what he’s gotten up to with his various extracurricular entertainments, Jek always shows up for his classes. The last time he missed a day was for food poisoning in eighth grade.
By second period, I’m flipping my phone in my hand, again considering whether or not to text him. Instead, when the bell rings at the end of my English class, I make an impulsive decision and duck out toward the parking lot, my palms sweating. I can’t remember the last time I ditched a class—probably not since middle school, when I faked a stomachache to get out of a test I hadn’t studied for. I try to look inconspicuous as I hurry through the parking lot toward my car, and I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear my name called. The vice principal, I realize with a sinking stomach. Dana Jones. The school district hired him a couple of years ago, in the wake of a scandal about how few teachers and administrators of color there were at London High. As a result, he’s one of the few other black men in town besides Jek. I haven’t dealt with him much since I mostly stay out of trouble, but he has a reputation for being firm but fair.
“What are you doing out here?” Mr. Jones calls as he approaches, sounding more curious than accusatory. “Don’t you have class right now?”
“Yes,” I admit. “I should be in PE, but...” I feel around in my mouth for a believable lie, but nerves have driven every useful thought from my head. “I—I’m worried about a friend,” I confess when nothing else comes to mind. “Jayesh Kapoor? He’s not in school, and I can’t get in touch with him...”
I’m positive that with every word I’m just sealing my doom, and Mr. Jones will send me back to class and give me detention, too. But as I watch his face, his large brown eyes look more sympathetic than strict.
“He’s not answering his phone?”
“No, sir.”
Mr. Jones doesn’t speak, but instead gives me an appraising look.
“You’re not in trouble much,” he says, and I’m not sure if it’s intended as a question. “Have you ever been sent to my office?”
“Only once,” I say honestly. “I overslept and didn’t have a note from my mom.”
Mr. Jones gazes off toward the school, then turns back to me with a decisive tug to his tweed jacket.
“Go look after your friend,” he says. “I’m sure gym class can survive one day without you.”
I smile gratefully and rush off toward my car before he can change his mind. I kind of can’t believe I just got permission to cut class, but I guess this is one of the privileges of being a “good girl” at school. I can’t help thinking Mr. Jones would react differently if he knew I’m headed not to Jek’s house, but back to the trailer park where I recently attended an orgy party. But I’m not going to be the one who tells him.
I’m not totally sure what I hope to find at Hyde’s place—all I can figure is that if Hyde is controlling Jek’s phone, he probably knows where he is. Or if not, maybe I can at least catch him off guard and get some real answers out of him. The night of the party, I freaked out and ran off without getting the information I went for, but I promise myself that I won’t let that happen again. I want to know why Jek was texting me about Hyde, and why I haven’t seen or heard from Jek since then. If Jek won’t talk, maybe Hyde will.
I park my car across from the trailer and pull my coat tight around myself as I get out.
It’s not actually raining, but the air feels heavy and pregnant with moisture and it leaves a rusty film on everything it touches. The trailer in particular manages to look even grimmer and more desolate than it did the other night.
I grit my teeth as I prepare myself for another conversation with Hyde, but before I’ve even crossed the street, the front door opens and out comes Jek. He’s tugging a T-shirt on over his head, his backpack slung from one arm.
At first I’m too relieved to make sense of what I’m seeing. “Hey,” I call out. “What are you doing here?”
The moment he hears my voice, Jek freezes. Even from across the street, I can see his whole body stiffen in alarm. After a moment, he recovers himself and manages a weak smile.
“Lulu,” he says as I approach. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“Shouldn’t you?” I point out lightly, but one look at his face brings back the concern that had sent me searching for him in the first place. “Are you all right?” I ask. “You don’t look so good.”
Jek rubs a hand over his face. “It’s nothing,” he says. “Hangover.”
I take a moment to process that, and as I do, the concern drains from my body and is replaced with something else entirely.
“You were with Hyde last night,” I observe. “Getting fucked up.” I squint at him through the mist. “On a school night. While I was worried sick about you.”
“Yeah?” says Jek, looking about as pissed as I feel. “And who told you to worry?”
I don’t even know what to say to that, but I don’t get a chance to say anything before Jek is darting a look at his phone. “Shit,” he says, “I better get going.” He slips away from me and grabs his bike from where it’s leaning unchained against the trailer.
“Jek, wait,” I call after him. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” But he ignores me and takes off down the bike path.
* * *
I don’t hear from Jek again all day, and I tell myself that’s fine by me. Mom was right—Jek doesn’t deserve my concern. While I was lying awake worrying about him, he was out doing God knows what with his new friend. Well, that’s just fine. Let him have his fun; I have other things to worry about.
I’m in my room researching scholarship leads when I hear a gentle tapping at my door. Jek pushes it open as I look up.
“Your mom let me in,” he explains. “Though she didn’t look too happy about it...” He raises his eyebrows at me, his question unspoken.
I don’t answer him, though I do sit up a bit from where I’m lounging in bed. He closes the door behind him and leans against it, as if he’s not quite sure he’s allowed in. Such a change from a few years ago, when he would have immediately started fiddling with the old laptops and cell phones scattered around my room, poking at my projects and asking me questions about them. But it’s been ages since he came to my house—usually we meet at his, since he has so much more space and privacy. I’ve dreamed of him showing up here, a couple of times. In those scenarios, it was always a thrill to know he had sought me out. But after what I saw this morning, now I can’t enjoy the experience.
“What are you doing here?” I say at last.
Jek swallows as he gauges my mood. “Apologizing?” he tries. “I don’t know. Should I not? You seem—” he waves a hand in my direction, as if to encompass all the ways that I seem “—angry.”
“Oh?” I say tightly. “And why would I be angry?”
“Um...” he says. “Right. Look.” He pushes off from the door and moves aimlessly around the room, picking up an old MP3 player and fiddling with it a moment before setting it down again. “I just wanted to explain. About this morning.”
“Why would it make me angry,” I continue as if he hasn’t spoken, “that my best friend is running around with some weirdo pervert? That he gave said pervert my number? And then sexted me on behalf of the pervert? What part of that might I not be totally cool with? According to you?”
Jek sweeps over and perches on the edge of the bed near me. “That wasn’t me,” he says, his eyes pleading. “Come on, Lu...you know I’d never do that. You know me.”
I turn my face away from him. “I’m not sure I do. Not anymore.”
Jek sighs and squares his shoulders. “He had my phone,” he explains. “Hyde’s idea of a joke. You’ve got to see that.”
I look down at my hands. “Yeah,” I say, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I thought that. I was real
ly sure that was the only explanation that made sense.” I look up at him. “Until I saw you coming out of his house this morning, so embarrassed you couldn’t even look at me. You looked guilty as hell, Jek. And you had your phone in your hand.” Jek at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Now you come here and you want me to believe you had nothing to do with all that. You lied to me, Jek—you told me you never go to Hyde’s parties, but you had to have been there.”
Jek stands up from the bed and rounds on me. “So what if I was,” he says. “What about you? If you were so offended by Hyde’s text, why did you show up that night?”
“You think I went there to see Hyde?” I say. I can feel my voice and my temper rising. “I was worried,” I tell him. “Worried about you.”
“Of course you were,” he says with bitter sarcasm. “Such a hero! Saint Lulu who has never had an impure thought in her life. You’re telling me you weren’t curious? That you weren’t desperately hoping to be invited to that party?”
“No,” I say, standing to face him down. “I honestly don’t care if I never see that piece of trailer trash again. But apparently I’m the only person Hyde doesn’t have under his spell.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I stare at him hard. “Jesus, Jek,” I say, my voice lowered now against the snooping ears of my family. “Do you think I’m an idiot? The first time I met Hyde, he was coming out of your room. And this morning I see you coming out of his half-dressed. Ask anyone who’s met Hyde, they’ll tell you exactly what it means.” Jek steps away from me but says nothing, so I go on. “I’m only embarrassed I didn’t see it sooner. Hyde was never helping you with an experiment—that was just a story you told your mom to explain why you were spending the night together. Why else would you give him money, make excuses for him, practically let him get away with murder? I thought blackmail at first, or he was threatening you, but then why would you be so quick to defend him? To protect him, even when you know he’s done awful things?”
Jek is shaking his head. “Lulu, no, you’ve got it all wrong. It’s not—”
“Stop it,” I say, putting out my hand. “I don’t care, all right? You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You don’t owe me anything. I just thought...” I sit down on the bed and pull a pillow into my lap. “For God’s sake, Jek. How long have we known each other? And in all that time, I have never judged you.” No longer able to hide my hurt, I hear my voice cracking with emotion. “I never tried to change you. I’ve defended you more times than I can count. What made you think you had to hide this from me? You know I love you the way you are...however you are. And if you’re—”
I don’t get to finish the sentence before Jek pulls me to my feet and cuts me off with a kiss. A brief kiss, just a firm press of his lips against mine. I don’t know what to make of it. I look up into his face, bewildered.
“Lu,” he says, soft and serious, “I’m not sleeping with Hyde. I don’t want Hyde.” His eyes search my face. “Do you?”
“What?” I ask, still dazed from the unexpected kiss.
“Saturday night,” he says, still holding me close. “You answered his text, you went to his house. What did you want from him? What were you looking for?”
“I told you, Jek—you. I went there looking for you.”
He kisses me again, and this time it’s slow and deep, his body pressed close to mine, his familiar smoky scent filling my senses. The kiss doesn’t feel fake, it doesn’t feel for show; it feels like everything I’ve wanted for such a very long time. At first, I don’t know how to react—for all that I’ve dreamed of this moment, now that it’s happening I’m mostly bewildered. Questions whirl through my mind but I can’t focus on them. My blood feels warm and sluggish, almost as if I’ve been drugged, and for a moment or two, my brain shuts off and I surrender myself to physical sensation—the sweetness of his breath, the warmth of his body, the shivery effect of his fingers just under the hem of my shirt, slowly stroking my skin.
My mind snaps back into control and I break free, pushing him away.
“I can’t,” I say, retreating back to the bed. “God, I can’t, Jek. There is so much you’re not telling me, so much I don’t understand.” I look up at him, desperately wanting him to contradict me, but knowing he can’t. “I’ve trusted you for so long, but I don’t right now.”
Jek looks down at me, his anguish mirroring mine. “I know,” he says. He reaches out and touches my face. “And you’re right. There are things I have to hide. I want to tell you...at times, I’ve come so close, you have no idea. And I will. I promise I will someday. Can that be enough for now?”
I turn my head away from him. “I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t think so. I need to think.”
“Okay,” he says, as he moves toward the door. “I understand.” He has his hand on the knob, but he doesn’t turn it. After a moment, he turns around, and his eyes have a new light in them.
“Wait,” he says. “Lulu. What if I got rid of him?”
I stare at him, not following.
“Hyde,” he explains. “What if Hyde disappeared? Left town? That would solve everything.”
“But why would he leave? He seems pretty happy here, Jek.”
Jek dismisses my concern with a wave of his hand. “I told you before, Hyde is under my control.” He’s moving around the room now, a strange excitement taking hold of his body. “I can’t explain, but the minute I tell him to get lost, he will.”
I shake my head. “That’s... Look, I don’t know what kind of arrangement you have with the guy, but what you’re saying kind of misses the point. I don’t care what Hyde does, or where he does it. It’s you I’m worried about, Jek. All these secrets... I feel like I don’t know who you are anymore.”
Jek turns sharply toward me, his face all but glowing with his new idea. “But don’t you see? I’m the same as I ever was—it’s Hyde who’s the problem.” He’s looking at me with that mixture of elation and frustration he gets sometimes when he can’t make me understand his latest scientific discovery. Then, as usual, he seems to give up on making me understand. “Don’t worry about it, Lu,” he says, taking my face in his hands again. “The important thing is that you were right. I should have listened to you before. I can get rid of Hyde, and I will.”
He kisses me once more, quickly, and then he’s out the door.
CHAPTER 12
For the rest of the night I am mostly numb, wondering at what I have done. I’ve been wanting Jek for so long, it feels like a part of me. Even when I dated other boys now and then, in the back of my head I was always wondering, hoping, wishing that Jek would show interest in me. I never really thought he would, and it never occurred to me that I might turn him away if he did.
Still, I can’t help thinking I made the right choice.
I thought getting together with Jek would be simple, but everything between us is mixed-up and complicated. The Jek who came to my room last night wasn’t the Jek I grew up with. His face, his eyes, his voice are all familiar, but the rest? I don’t know, because he won’t tell me. Ever since Hyde came to town, Jek hasn’t been himself.
Of course, now he has promised to get rid of Hyde. Given what I know of him, Hyde doesn’t seem like the type to ride off into the sunset just because someone asks him nicely. But I’ll be happy enough if Jek just stops hanging around with him. The less Jek sees of Hyde, the better off he’ll be.
* * *
As days go by, stretching into one week and then two, I hear less and less about Hyde. It seems he’s lying low after all. It’s hard to believe he’s gone for good, but whatever Jek said to him must have worked. When I ask around about him, no one has anything new to add to the old stories, and Camila says he hasn’t thrown any parties lately. In fact, it seems like no one’s heard from him since the party I sort of crashed.
I kn
ow I should be happy, but...something about the whole situation makes me squirm. What exactly happened to Hyde? Did he mean so little to everyone that no one but me even wonders where he went? And what did Jek do to drive him off so suddenly and completely? Threaten Hyde with some kind of exposure? Pay him off? Beat him up, or worse? I try not to let my mind go down that path. I don’t want to believe my best friend is capable of anything violent...but I can’t deny the circumstances are strange.
But maybe strangest of all is how Jek’s been acting toward me—like he’s my boyfriend. Sweet, attentive, flirtatious, even, like he’s courting me. It’s wonderful...but somehow a little disconcerting, too.
On Tuesday it’s blustery but not raining for once, so he talks me into a walk after school to the Twice-Loved Thrift Shop so we can poke around, looking at dusty old lab equipment. It’s like old times—until I’m in the middle of spinning some silly story about how a Victorian phrenology bust wound up in a junk shop in rural Illinois and he slips his hand into mine. He definitely never did that before.
My sentence trails off as my brain stutters to a halt.
“What?” he says. He squeezes my fingers and casts a cautious look in my direction. “Is this not okay?”
“No,” I say. “It’s fine. It’s...nice. Just, I don’t know. New.” I look down at our interlaced fingers, then back up at him. “What changed?”
“What do you mean?”
I tug him a little toward the back of the store, away from the too-interested ears of the salesclerk.
“We’ve been friends for years now,” I explain, “and that was great. But you seemed...” I trail off, not sure how to describe the puzzle Jek has always presented to me. I take a breath. “I mean, you never seemed to want anything more than that. And I—well, I did. And I think you must have known that...” I look at him cautiously, and he nods. “Right,” I say. “But I didn’t want to pressure you, so I just let things coast. And now all of a sudden...” I lift up our hands as evidence of the change. “Why now?”