“Me neither,” I agreed, unable to squelch a smile the size of Texas. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure I hadn’t ever laughed like that before. I stood up too, so I wouldn’t have to crane my neck to see him, smoothing down the front of my shirt and re-knotting my scarf.
His brows came together, forming creases of deep thought. “Must be months,” he added very softly, his gaze returning to me. I saw it then and my huge grin faltered; the same sadness from this morning had crept back into his face, into the smile more wistful than happy and just a bit too tight at the corners. Watching as he fought to disown the emotion, the extreme effort it took to control it hurt my stomach in an entirely different way than the laughter had. Again I noticed just how tired he looked and found my fingers twitching restlessly, wanting to see if I could smooth away some of that exhaustion. “So, I just thought of something,” he announced, the lightness in his voice disguising what lay beneath it.
I shoved my hands into my front pockets and cleared my throat. “Yes?”
“If it wasn’t your head that was bothering you . . . what was it, then?”
Clearly he was working something out in his mind, but at the moment I was too consumed to follow. My thoughts were still on the sudden shift into melancholy, full of the reminder that so much about him still remained unknown and obscure. This left me uneasy and perplexed; how was it that I could laugh—unhindered and comfortable in a way I was with no one else—with someone who, when I stopped to think about it, was a little more than a stranger.
“What do you mean?” I asked, a heeding caution closing in around me.
“In the car—before, when we were talking; it looked like you’d swallowed a hornet’s nest.” He let out a few strained residual chuckles.
“Oh . . . that,” I acknowledged grimly. With understanding came accompanying dread. “Well, it’s a bit complicated, actually.”
“I’ll try and keep up,” Dominic said with a judicious nod, turning to face me and give me his undivided attention.
I knew I wouldn’t have enough time to find Emily before the bell rang like I had hoped. My fault entirely, and Dominic shouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of my inability to handle the situation. I decided a small warning might be prudent.
I smiled back weakly and began, all without knowing exactly what I would say. “You know that friend I was telling you about? Emi—”
“Um . . .” spoke a familiar voice behind me, impressively infusing the tiny word with almost zero intonation, and yet still managing to convey just how far beyond livid she actually was.
My knees locked and I went very, very still, staring forward with a mixture of dimwitted denial and reluctant certainty. Dominic’s eyes carried an interest and caution perhaps, but definitely not fear. Soon enough, I thought.
“Okay, sure—I’ll play,” Emily said brightly. “It’s ‘bring your tool to school day!’ Am I right? No? Okay then . . .” she said ponderingly, wizening my insides with a voice full of a faux-cheer and bitterness. “I got it! You have amnesia and don’t remember that the creep you’re talking to is the guy who humiliated you in front of an entire class, to which then the entire school heard about, to which then sent you into hiding, where you snuck onto campus and ate lunch in your car for the last week and a half? Wrong again?! Okay, I give up. Who wants to give me the answer to the million dollar question?”
By “who,” I was quite confident Emily referred to me and me alone. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the sun penetrate my face before a cold chill, having nothing to do with the weather, fell upon me. Then I turned around so slowly it could hardly be considered movement. My legs were no longer stiff, though, depreciating into two boiled carrots precariously keeping me upright for the time being. And any last shreds of clutched hope, gladly entertaining the possibility of a delusional episode, disappeared the moment I saw them—Jake and Emily watching us from a small grassy area shaded by that of a great Birchwood tree, roughly fifteen feet away.
Jake—clad in his usual: a tank top, shorts, and a cloud of puffy white hair—had his head angled curiously to the side, but didn’t appear to be disconcerted. Emily was a whole different story. I thought of Mount Vesuvius. The red tube-top nearly matched the shade of her cheeks. She drummed florescent-orange nails against her bare stomach.
Jake looked from me to Dominic, then repeated this three more times. “What’s up?”
“Jake. Em. Hi!” I temporized. “How are you?”
Emily laughed. She laughed the way one does after coming home from a very long day, to find they are locked out, and the only other person with a spare key is a relative three states away.
Then she asked me, very calmly, “Have you lost your damn mind?”
From behind, Dominic came to stand beside me—or rather, just a fraction in front of me. I couldn’t be sure, since I was unable to see his face, but it looked like he was using himself as a shield. Did he really think Emily might hurt me? I wondered. Glancing down I saw his hand leave his side, almost stretching imperceptibly around me.
He couldn’t know this wasn’t Emily angry; this was Emily worried.
“Em,” I whispered pleadingly, stepping away from Dominic’s hand. “This is my mistake. I should have called you—I should have. I’m sorry. It was just so late when we got home—”
It was if I had slapped Emily across the face.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I must have misheard you.” Then she laughed again in that horrible, not at all amused way. “Did you say last night?”
“Em, please.” I was begging her. “I promise I will explain everything. Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
“Talk? I think I’d rather shake you for a while. What the hell are you doing with this Assclown?”
Jake took Emily’s wrist. “Woah—First of all, Assclown is my word, so don’t try and rip it off. And two, chill the heck out. You’re overreacting; as usual, dude.” He gave her a look of brotherly admonishment that severely altered his usual goofy demeanor.
Emily blinked once, a fresh wave of color rising into her cheekbones. She glared at her twin like someone trying passionately to invoke their dormant telepathic abilities. Her fingers curled inward, making a fist. Then she shook Jake off with one blunt jerk. “You—don’t start. I mean it, Jake,” she warned. “This doesn’t involve you.”
Jake laughed at her, making spitting sounds with his lips. “It doesn’t involve you either, Crazy.”
“That”—Emily pointed one rigid finger at me—“is my best friend, Jackass. It involves me.”
“Yeah, well, she’s one of my best friends, too. But you don’t see me going all Texas-chainsaw-massacre, do you? Look,” he said, taking Emily by both shoulders so they were face to face. In response she said something highly unflattering to him and wrenched away. Jake grabbed her again, this time by the wrists, doing what he could to avoid perilous knees to the groin. “Stop trying to sucker-knee me, you jerk. That’s not fair! Em, just stop and listen for a sec!” he roared. “You can mettle in my life all you want because, personally, I have no problems telling you straight to your face that you are frickin’ INSANE. But you can’t do that to other people. Fost’s too nice to say anything. She cares too much about your feelings to risk upsetting you. Look! It’s obvious she’s dying to talk to you, dude. So, tame the beast, will ya? Give her a chance to explain. Maybe they were abducted by aliens last night? I watched a show about that last night. Crazy stuff.”
Emily didn’t want to. With all she had in her, she fought the laughter. She fought it until tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. “You—weren’t—there—JAKE!” Snapping her wrists like reigns on a horse she was able to break his hold. “You don’t know!” she railed at him. “Because you didn’t see her face. You didn’t see what that jerk did to her. I did! When I found her, she was walking down the hall like she’d just found out both her parents had died. So don’t act all high and mighty, Jacob, and tell me to chill out! Maybe you need to get a little mad
for once!”
I felt Dominic tense beside me. Furtively I moved my eyes without moving my head and saw that every muscle in his face was clenched, his bronze skin slowly fading to gray. He looked ill. There was no joy, no peace, nothing at all; it was the exact same face from yesterday. I had to restrain myself from touching him.
He stared forward, unblinking, focused on Jake and Emily. This close to him I could tell the gaze was remote. He was seeing—something—but it wasn’t a brother and sister arguing with one another. Then he turned and looked at me, shaking his head.
Emily’s fervent shouts were like strings, pulling my attention back to her. She had a finger in Jake’s face, jabbing him but not touching him. “I don’t need a time out, Jake. I’m not five!”
“No, because even five-year-olds know when to give it up and say I’m sorry. You just keep on having your tantrum.”
Emily’s eyes burned with wounded pride. She was like a tiny flame, as though any minute now sparks would fly from her eyes, lighting the tree she stood beneath on fire. She said it quietly, with such loathing a chill ran up my spine. “I hate you!”
Jake stared at his twin, and I watched all the steam leave his body. He smiled. “Yeah I know, dude,” he said. “But I’m stuck with you and you’re stuck with me, and that’s just the deal. But she isn’t.” Jake looked over at me, and then so did Emily, and I wanted to hug them and to also run and hide. “You get that, right? Me, I’ll never stop being your brother. I might occasionally tell people our parents adopted you from very small, angry people, but I’ll still be your brother. Foster is your friend. That means she can choose to dump you if you’re being a brat. Which you are—most of the time—and being right now. Let her talk. You owe her that much.”
Emily was still watching me, her chest rising and falling, jaw tight as steel.
“Plus,” Jake added, “they’re totally hot on each other. So I think you’re too late, anyways.”
Flames. Flames, flames. They enveloped me.
Emily shook like she was going to possibly say something, then closed her mouth and said something to Jake too low for me to hear.
Dominic took a step forward, blocking me completely now. “Jake’s right,” he agreed.
All three of us stared at him. Dominic bowed his head, lowering his eyes to the ground. From behind, it looked like the tips of his ears were pink. “I mean about talking—about you two needing to talk,” he clarified, his voice blunt and tight with what I assumed to be discomfort.
When I saw him begin to raise his head, I turned away before the sharpness sawing in my gut had a chance to contort my face. Of course he had been referring to Emily and me.
“There’s obviously a lot the two of you need to discuss,” Dominic said. “But if I could just say one thing to you, Emily, before you guys do that.” I was glad he knew better than to offer Emily a moment to object. “It was only by coincidence that Foster and I ended up at the same place yesterday. My car wasn’t drivable, so she gave me a ride to and from where we were going. That’s all.” He summed things up neatly, I thought, omitting details where they might be misconstrued.
Truthfully I was flabbergasted Emily had allowed him to finish. To me, this showed great restraint and maturity on her part.
“Okay, Clark Kent,” Emily paused to give Dominic one very long acidic stare. “Clearly you have me confused with the vapid air-head who swoons for the ‘let’s be reasonable here, ladies, shall we?’ type.” She unsteepled her fingers and crossed her arms over her chest. “Let me put this in terms even a tool like you can understand. I don’t like you. I don’t want your opinion. I don’t want your explanation. In fact, it would be awesome if you could just scurry on back to whatever tool shop you belong in. And this time, you would be doing us all a huge favor if you stayed there.” And with that, she concluded the speech with a dazzling smile and, “That’s all.”
I was afraid to look, so when Emily added, “And you can wipe that Orbit-gum smile off your face too, while you’re at it. It makes you look a himbo.”
“Wow,” Dominic said, blinking. “So that’s what it feels like to be slapped with words.”
“Just say the word and I’d be more than happy to give you the real thing.”
Dominic laughed. “See, this is where I would go to compliment you—the Superman thing, that was really clever. I didn’t even notice I was wearing red and blue. But I’m afraid if I did you’d take it the wrong way and hurt me.”
Emily made a face like she had swallowed something putrid. “You know, I’m kinda sick of looking at you, Clark. Why don’t you go see if there’s a kitten that needs rescuing.” She started to turn, then stopped, a cunning smile leading her back. “Actually—on second thought,” she said contemplatively, “maybe you should stay for a minute.” Then she just stared at him, meaning to hurt him with her next words.
And this is where I would have told Dominic to run if there had been any saliva in my mouth.
“I looked for you,” Emily told him. “That day.”
No one needed any further clarification.
“I found out where your next class was and I went there, but you never showed up. If you had, though, I would have told you that you’re the worst kind of boy. The kind of boy that hurts a girl and then runs away. Like a coward. You’re mean and you’re pathetic, Clark. And I want you to know that I’ll be right here,” she pointed down, “when Foster realizes that. I’ll be here when she remembers how you hurt her.”
It worked. A thousand knives wouldn’t have done a better job tearing him apart. Emily wasn’t close enough to hear the sound he made in his throat when she said the words how you hurt her. I heard it, though.
Dominic nodded and inhaled. He said, “You’re a really good friend, Emily.”
And then the four us stood there, looking away, at no one, at the sky.
Then Jake cocked his fluffy white head to the side and called out, “Hey, dude, you own a mustang, yeah?”
Chapter Eighteen
“Get out. I need the room.”
Emily and I—mostly Emily—stormed through a set of closed double-doors, startling a group of boys arranged in a semicircle, tuning various brass and percussion instruments. They stared, transfixed, at the girl meaning to waylay them. I knew I was still smiling and grateful Emily was in front so she could not see this betrayal on my face.
It had happened very quickly. But it had happened.
Back outside, when the first bell rang, causing most of the school to scatter toward first period, not one of us moved. Then Emily was snatching my backpack from Dominic with one hand and pulling me away from him with the other. Before separating I had felt the faintest of touches graze my arm, just below my elbow. I had felt him. Dominic had reached out—for me. I saw it in his eyes when I had turned back around.
The great room Emily toted me across was enormous, and mostly empty. I was also very grateful for that.
We stopped abruptly. The rubber sole of my sandals shrieked on the wood, but I managed not to fall on top of Emily. I stood trying to make myself small and invisible; though, I might have been a ten foot long Gila monster and I’m quite certain my presence would have went undetected.
“Did you hear me?” Emily asked, making magisterial shooing motions with her hands. “I said get out. You can have the room back when we’re finished with it.” For the first time since entering, they saw there was more than just one intruder. The cluster of boys peeked over Emily, and then looked warily at one another, clearly flummoxed. There was a long moment of silent palaver, deciding who would be the one to answer her.
A brave boy, wiry thin and donning a purple and black letterman’s jacket with one lone musical note patch of insignia, spoke up. “But . . . this-is-the-band room.” His eyes sidled in both directions, as if he was suddenly second-guessing himself and needed verification to be sure. “And we’re in the band,” he added, firmer this time, with certainty of location. He mumbled quietly and not without a tremor in his v
oice, but he’d responded, which I believed was more than most would have done in his place. He pushed his stringy brown hair out of his eyes, wiped a palm on his knee and regripped the neck of the instrument laid across his lap. “I don’t think we should have to leave,” he declared boldly. “We have every right to be here. Right guys?”
I couldn’t see Emily’s face; I didn’t need to, because I had a clear view of his. Currently swallowing at a pace of thirty per minute, he looked like a lamentable sufferer of Dysphagia.
“I’ll tell you what . . .” Emily paused, and immediately his jacket was in her fist, the boy being flung forward in it, then flung back into his seat after she had a peek at the lettering on his back. She began again, sounding extremely bored. “Tell you what, Boyle. You can either take your clarinet, and leave within the next four seconds . . .” She paused again, in an effective way. Boyle looked to be seriously considering not sticking around for the “or” likely to follow. “Or . . . I will take it from you, and figure out a creative way of using it that will forever give you the ability to hit those high notes without ever needing to technically play it, ever again.”
The boy’s large raccoon eyes grew even wider on his already pale face. A squishy swallow—the seventh in ten seconds—slid down his throat.
“What do you think?” Emily asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Should we take a vote? Either way I’m good.”
Without a word, the boy and those fortunate enough to have not been personally addressed hastily grabbed their instruments and started toward the exit. When the last band student shuffled through the door, murmurs of dissent making them sound and look a little like a disgruntled swarm of purple and black bees, Emily released my arm and whirled to face me.
“Okay,” she said, in a way that indicated I should have already begun speaking three and a half seconds ago. Then she narrowed her eyes on me. “Are you smiling?”
“No!” I ate my lips.
“Fine, then.” She bugged her eyes at me. “You said you wanted to talk alone. Here we are, Fost. Let’s talk.”
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