by Beth Goobie
“Uh, Dime?” said Tiff.
“Yeah?” I asked. It was hard to con centrate on what she was saying. Gabe’s a good kisser.
“I hear she’s decided to remove half of your face,” Tiff said.
I put my hand over Gabe’s mouth and asked, “When did you hear this?”
“Last week, but it slipped my mind,” Tiff said.
“Yeah, I heard about it too. Don’t worry. She’s a big talker,” Gabe said.
“Thanks for telling me, you guys,” I muttered. Gabe’s ex was a good fighter. She picked most of her fights in the girls’ bathrooms. “Queen of the Cans” was one of her nicer nicknames.
“Hey, don’t worry about it — I’ll protect you,” Gabe said. He seemed pretty chipper about the whole thing.
“You going to walk into the girls’ can with me?” I asked.
“Sure!” He looked enthusiastic.
The bell rang and everyone started to move. I noticed the ex was gone, so Gabe and I gave each other a long goodbye.
“Skip third period and come for a ride?” Gabe asked. He had a spare that class. I kissed him one last time.
“Bummer, but I can’t. I’ve got a test in math,” I sighed.
I took off into the school in a floating run, but I came down fast. When I rounded the last corner before my locker, there was Gabe’s ex leaning against the wall.
I hadn’t brushed up on any kung fu lately. Luckily, she was looking the other way. I backed up around the corner. Then I took the long way around to my homeroom. I was going to have to go to science class without my books. They were in my locker. If I tried to get them now, my class would be using my body for its next experiment.
Chapter Five
I’ve been in a couple of fights. I remember dragging a neighbor boy around by the hair in Grade 5. He’d shot one too many spitballs at me. From that point on, he took aim at other kids. Somehow, I couldn’t see the same thing happening with the ex. She could have downed Mike Tyson — without gloves.
At mid-morning break, Tiff scouted out a safe bathroom for me to use. Then she stood guard at the door. While I was washing my hands, a girl came out of one of the stalls. She looked at me and said, “I hear there’s a fight in the back parking lot at lunch. You’re in it.”
I pulled a bored look across my face. Without blinking, I said, “News to me.”
“Better watch out. Her fingernails are switchblades,” the girl laughed.
“Yeah? She’ll probably chew them off worrying about me,” I said.
The girl shrugged. Just before she walked out, she looked back and said, “I hear Gabe’s the referee.”
I looked at Tiff, who started drawing circles on the wall. I knew she was thinking about the same thing as me — Gabe’s grin that morning when he’d seen his ex.
“You hear about any of this?” I asked.
Tiff twisted herself around inside her clothes and stared up at the ceiling. Finally, she said, “Maybe. But I know Gabe really likes you. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Great — my best friend hadn’t even bothered to tell me I was in danger of going extinct.
“Gabe’s ex always goes for the face. I’m no Cover Girl, but this face is the only one I’ve got,” I snapped.
“You could switch schools,” Tiff said helpfully.
“I want to switch lives — with anyone. I’d even switch lives with my brother,” I said.
Tiff stared at me, but I meant what I’d said. I would have given anything to be Darren. I’d wanted that all my life.
“Ah, c’mon, Dime — it’ll be okay,” Tiff said.
The bathroom was starting to feel like a danger zone. I’d been standing there too long, and Gabe’s ex was bound to show up soon. I picked up my books and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
At lunchtime, I hid in a back corner of the library. I needed time to think, and I didn’t want to see anyone. I figured the library was the one place my friends wouldn’t come looking for me — not even Tiff. But the rumors did. Kids hung over the top of my study carrel, bugging me.
“Hey, Dime — ready for the rumble?” asked a preppie.
“Better pull that nose ring out. It’s the first thing she’ll go for,” teased a skater.
When I walked out of the school that afternoon, I decided to use the preppie door. I knew the ex wouldn’t go anywhere near there. It was pretty embarrassing, and the preppies sure had a lot to say about it.
“Hey, headbanger, use your own door,” called a guy.
“Who dresses you — the Terminator?” asked his girlfriend.
“Don’t be a man, girl. Don’t be a man,” said another guy.
“She’s not a man. She’s a sweet thing running from the Queen of the Cans. I hear she’s about to get wasted,” said an absolute nerd.
Normally, I wouldn’t have let them get away with this kind of garbage. But today I had better things to do than stand around wising up preps. I pushed my way down the crowded steps, getting comments the whole way. As I walked along the street, Gabe’s bike came up beside me.
“Want a ride?” he grinned.
I wasn’t sure. If this guy really liked me, why didn’t he tell the ex to get lost? But if he really liked the ex, would he offer me a ride? Maybe he hadn’t heard the rumors. The stuff about him as referee had to be bull. Gabe liked to watch boxing and wrestling, but who didn’t? That didn’t mean he’d stoop to setting up a fight between his girlfriend and his ex.
Besides, kids were watching. Everywhere I looked, they were turning around to stare. So I gave Gabe the same smile I gave my parents when they bugged me. I didn’t mean to use it with Gabe — it just sort of showed up on my face. But Gabe didn’t seem to notice anything strange.
“Going my way?” he asked.
“You bet,” I said.
We took off and rode for a long time. My arms were around him, and I could feel him breathing, solid and real. I knew then that what I’d been thinking was wrong. Gabe was mine, and no rumors or silly comments could ever take him away. I leaned my head on his back and watched everything go by. Take me away from my life, Gabe, I thought.
He didn’t, of course. And he didn’t explain his ex and the rumors, either. So when he dropped me off at Darren’s apartment, I asked about it.
“You don’t still like her, do you?” I said between kisses.
“No, no, no — it’s all over with her,” he mumbled.
“Does she know that?” I asked.
“Haven’t I made it obvious?” sighed Gabe.
“So why does she want to fight me, then?” I asked.
“She’s just jealous. She won’t go through with it,” he said.
“She looks like Madonna on too many steroids,” I said.
He seemed to like this idea.
“I’ve got to go,” I snapped, getting off the bike.
“Hey, Dime — c’mon,” he called.
I turned around. There was that forever hope again, like a quick song in my chest. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was jumping to too many conclusions.
“Come here. Please?” He had on his take-you-out-of-deep-freeze smile. I hesitated, then walked back, pretending to be reluctant. Truth was, my heart was slam-dancing against my chest. I wanted him to like me so bad.
“Hey,” he said softly and touched my face. Then he kissed me. Well, that was that — he took me up to cloud nine and we stayed there for a while. Finally, he put on his helmet and roared off. I stood and stared after him. I didn’t know if I was coming or going with him. He just twisted and turned me all over the place.
When I got into the apartment, the phone was ringing. It was Mom, wanting to know about every detail of my love life. So I hung up on her. Then I made hamburgers again for supper, but Darren didn’t complain. We watched Old Yeller on TV while we ate. It made me cry. I sat there sniffing into my T-shirt sleeve as the dog died. Then I looked over at Darren and saw that his eyes were red too.
“W
hy are you crying?” I asked.
“Why are you?” he shrugged. He headed off to the bathroom and I followed. Darren never cries.
“I’m weeping buckets because the dog died,” I said.
“Sure,” said Darren. He was taking his laxative. He takes it three times a week so he can take a dump the next morning. It’s part of being a quad, just like using a leg bag to pee. Darren can change his own leg bag, but I still hate thinking about it.
“You’re feeling sorry for me,” Darren said.
“No, I’m not,” I said.
Darren looked right at me and said, “Yes, you are. Listen, Dime — my life is going a hundred times better than yours. I’m halfway through my engineering degree. You’re close to flunking Grade 10.”
I get mad fast. When I do, my brain flies into a hundred pieces. I turned to leave the room.
“No one will ever hire you,” I said.
Behind me, Darren’s voice just got louder. He said, “They’d hire me before they’d hire you. And when they do, I’ll be making sixty grand a year. You’ll be flipping hamburgers for the rest of your life.”
That was when I really lost it. The last person I could take coming down on me was Darren.
I yelled, “At least I can do that. You need help to go to the can.”
“So I have to park my butt on that toilet two hours tomorrow morning and wait. At least I’m getting rid of the crap in my life. You’re keeping yours bottled up inside, Dime. You don’t even know what’s bugging you,” Darren yelled.
Darren’s apartment was too small. There was nowhere to go to get away from him. I walked quickly to the kitchen, but he zipped after me. He was actually chasing me in his chair! I leaned my face against the cool fridge door and closed my eyes.
“Sure I do. I don’t go on about it, but I do,” I said.
“So talk about it. Tell me what it is. Don’t just bawl at old movies,” Darren said softly.
But I couldn’t. I turned away, ending the conversation. For the rest of the evening, Darren studied in his room. I watched TV.
Chapter Six
Tuesday morning when I got up, Darren’s aide was just coming in. I rushed through my bathroom routine, then headed for the kitchen. As Darren wheeled into the bathroom, I pretended to be watching the toast in the toaster.
“Good morning, Dime,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said.
Everywhere I looked, trouble was building. I didn’t want to think about Gabe’s ex waiting for me at school. I didn’t want to think about the way Gabe grinned when he saw her. And I knew I couldn’t stand one more raging phone call from Mom or Dad. So I pretended to water the plant on the counter and soaked the phone instead. It would dry out in a week or so. In the meantime, there would be no more nagging phone calls.
Gabe had promised to give me a driving lesson before school. I smeared honey onto my toast and shoved it into my mouth. Then I headed out the door. I was early, so I sat on the curb. But even though I wanted to, I couldn’t stop my head from working. I kept seeing the stack of Reader’s Digest magazines that Darren keeps by the toilet. He reads them while he waits for his laxative to work. How could he keep everything going in his life when I couldn’t? I might as well have FAILURE tattooed across my forehead.
Gabe roared up with his usual grin. Instead of getting on behind him, I got on in front and faced him.
“Take off your helmet,” I said. We made out for a bit. Gabe could be really good at helping me take my mind off things.
“You’re in a good mood,” he mumbled.
“Yeah,” I said.
Gabe let me drive once we were outside Winnipeg. I was doing fine — I even remembered the brakes when I needed them. Gabe’s hands were resting around my waist instead of hanging on as if I was about to crash. So I relaxed, and that was when the problem kicked in. Suddenly, I started to hear my parents’ voices inside my head.
You’re such a disappointment to us, Dime, said Mom.
Why can’t you grow up and act your age? yelled Dad. Then he sighed. You know, we really love you. If you could only see how much we love you.
I blinked, trying to concentrate. The road had disappeared. I felt a sharp drop, and then we were driving over something bumpy. Gabe was yelling and banging his helmet against the back of mine again. That was when I saw I’d driven off the road and was headed across a field. But I remembered the brake and got us stopped.
Gabe was off the bike in a second and grabbing at the handles. Maybe he was afraid I wanted to do wheelies in the field.
“You’re crazy! You’re nuts! Get off my bike!” he howled.
I got off. Then I decided to pretend I’d been trying to miss a rabbit hopping across the road.
“Did you see that rabbit? Did you see that rabbit?” I asked, pointing at a thick bush.
“What rabbit?” Gabe asked slowly.
“I saw this rabbit going across the road and it scared me. It was a white rabbit,” I lied.
“There was no rabbit! Give me my helmet!” Gabe yelled.
I gave it to him. Then he was gone, roaring across the field and down the road. This time I didn’t wait for him to come back — I figured the helmet was pretty final. It took me forty minutes to get back into the city. Then it was a twenty-five-minute bus ride to school. All the way, my parents’ voices kept going inside my head.
I came out of the school office with a late slip and a detention. I was pretty upset about the detention. My late slips had been adding up, but it was Gabe’s fault I was late. I figured he should be the one getting the detention. But at least the hallways were empty, and I could walk without looking over my shoulder. And with classes on, the ex wouldn’t be camped out at my locker.
Halfway through science class, the fire alarm went off. Usually a fire alarm break is fun, but we were in the middle of an experiment. We turned off the Bunsen burners and headed out. Up and down the hall, guys were jumping up and popping out ceiling tiles. Tiff came up beside me.
“Did you hear?” she asked.
“About what?” I asked.
“Your big showdown with the ex.”
“Tell me where to be. And when.” I didn’t want to fight, but I couldn’t seem to make myself care anymore. When I get that way, my mouth becomes a problem.
“The ex has invited another school to watch,” Tiff warned.
“Is she selling tickets? Is it winner take all?” I asked. We were coming out into the back parking lot. I could see Gabe sitting on his bike, his fans all around him. The fire alarm was still going.
“Dime, this is serious,” said Tiff.
“Life is serious, but you can turn it into one big joke if you have to,” I said.
Gabe waved and called, “Dime!”
For a second I thought about going over and slashing his tires. But it passed. I had driven his bike onto a farmer’s field, after all. I should consider myself lucky, really, that he’d gotten over it. So I walked over to him, smiling. He put an arm around me.
“You made it back. I was worried,” he said. He looked concerned about me.
“I’m okay. Sorry I drove you off the road,” I said.
“I went back looking for you,” he said.
Part of me wanted to believe him. But the road back to Winnipeg had been pretty straight. How could I have missed a guy on a motorcycle? That was when I noticed the ex nearby, looking straight at us. Gabe glanced at her and grinned. At the same time, he tightened his arm around my shoulder. It felt like a trap.
“Too bad you didn’t bring the ex with you this morning. She could have knocked me off and buried me in one of those fields,” I said, pulling back.
“Hey, Dime, you’re the love of my life. Don’t be mad at me,” Gabe said softly. Then he pulled me in against him. I buried my face in his neck and tried to forget about the ex. Maybe Gabe wasn’t Mr. Perfect, but he sure looked like him. And he could hand out pretty good hugs. This one would be enough to keep me going until lunch, when I could find him aga
in. I hung onto him tightly until the alarm went off, and everyone headed back into the school.
Chapter Seven
At lunch break, I stuck close to Gabe. I figured the ex wasn’t going to try and pull me off his body, and she didn’t. Maybe the whole thing was nothing more than rumors. At any rate, I was still in one piece when I got home that afternoon. I decided to try something more complicated than hamburgers for supper — fish and chips. I knew Darren liked them.
“Got a lot of homework tonight?” Darren asked after supper.
This was a parent-type question. My smile faded. “No,” I shrugged.
“There’s a good band playing near here. Get it done and we’ll go,” he said.
“Serious?” I asked.
“My thank-you for a superb supper,” he grinned.
Darren hadn’t noticed that the phone had died. With no one calling to interrupt me, I actually finished my homework. Well, maybe not exactly finished, but as much as I could handle in one sitting. If I was going to catch up on all the homework I’d missed, I’d be there for weeks.
At 9 p.m., Darren and I headed out to his favorite bar. Some of his friends were there and we joined them at a table. Another guy at the table was also in a wheelchair.
“He got arrested for drunk driving. He was going down the middle of the road in his chair,” Darren whispered.
“Are any of you quads normal people?” I joked.
Darren shrugged. “What’s normal?”
As usual, some of the crowd couldn’t seem to stop watching the wheelchairs. People are always surprised to see someone in a wheelchair having a good time. It’s as if they think life in a wheelchair is only good for watching TV. One woman came by and patted Darren’s arm.
“I wanted to tell you I think you’re so brave. I’m sure you’ll get well some day,” she said, her voice wobbling.
“But I am well,” Darren said.
As she walked away, he made a face at me. “No one can believe I might actually enjoy life these days,” he said.
“So, she’s stupid,” I said.
“A lot of people are like that,” he said.