by Naomi Niles
“Here’s some food. Eat.”
“You already fed me,” he said.
His voice was deep, more like a man than he looked. He was skinny and a tattoo snaked up his arm into his shirt. I wasn’t sure I liked tattoos, and it made him look a little scary.
“Well, Dylan, I guess you’ll be our guest for a little while,” my mom said.
As much as she didn’t want him here, she still had manners. You know, all about appearances and such.
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it.”
He took a spot on a stool at our kitchen island, then dug into the food Dad had offered him.
“Dylan, this is my daughter, Taylor,” he said.
Dylan looked at me, then through me. “Hello. You’re in my math class.”
Okay. I hadn’t seen him, but I might not notice someone like him. He wasn’t in the crowd I hung out with.
***
I was hungry, but I didn’t really want to eat with Dylan. He ate like he hadn’t seen food in years. Did he never eat in public?
“I’m going to take my plate downstairs,” I said.
My mother nodded. My father frowned. “You might as well eat with Dylan and me. Are you eating, honey?”
My mother shook her head. “No, I have a meeting tonight.”
She eyed Dylan as if she didn’t want to leave him alone in the house, like a new dog that might not be housetrained. At least my mother could escape. My father gave me a look that told me I couldn’t argue with him. I did anyway.
“I have friends coming over to study.”
“You can eat a plate of food before they get here,” he said. “You could invite Dylan to meet your friends.”
Before I could disagree, Dylan said it. “I don’t think so, sir. I have my own homework.”
My father eyed us then shrugged. “Okay. Do you need a computer? I think we have an older laptop laying around here somewhere. Where is that, Taylor?”
“It’s in the den, Daddy.”
I put some stew on my plate. I had snacks in the basement. My father made sure there was food down there, much to the chagrin of my mother. He would rather me have friends over where he could keep an eye on us. He was sure I was going to get into some kind of trouble.
Whatevs. Not like there weren’t many other hours in a day that I could get up to trouble. They didn’t really know when cheerleading practice ended. Not that I really got up to anything.
I had a beer at a party once and I had wanted to throw up. I waited until I felt normal again before I drove home. No one was the wiser, but it scared me.
So, I didn’t drink.
Not worth it. I’d bet Dylan partied every night. What would my Dad think of that?
“Dylan, you said you and Taylor are in the same math class?”
“Yes, sir.”
He put down his fork. I could see another tattoo on his other arm. How many did he have? Did they hurt? I didn’t want to ask. Dylan and I didn’t travel in the same social circles. I doubted that we even knew the same people.
“How are you doing in it?”
“Well, sir. I’m good at math.”
He looked like he was good at math, but I thought, but kept quiet and chewed. I braced for what my father was going to say next.
“Could you help Taylor with it?”
Dylan looked at her as if he was afraid she would bite. “Uh, if she wants me to.”
“Not tonight, Daddy. I have friends coming,” I said.
I didn’t want Dylan around me. Really, I didn’t. What had Daddy been thinking bringing him home? Weren’t there shelters for people like him?
“Okay, sweetheart, but it sounds like Dylan could help you get your grade up.”
I didn’t frown, but I wanted to. “Sure, Daddy. We can get together this weekend.”
Dylan nodded, then went back to his food. I escaped not long after. I set up snacks in a few bowls along with some chocolate – just the study food we needed.
The basement had its own entrance so my mother didn’t have to be bothered by people. Helena Charney, my best friend, arrived first.
“Hey, girl.”
We hugged. She was different from most of our friends. She wasn’t that into fashion, just enough that my other friends didn’t bug me about her – because they would. I once wore last year’s style to school and I never heard the end of it. I almost called my mother to come get me.
When I told her, she took me shopping that afternoon.
I’ve never worn last year’s clothing again.
Helena had put a purple streak in her brunette hair, and I worried that no one else would like it. “Why did you do that?”
She shrugged. “Just felt like it.”
“You look like a goth.”
“Hardly. It’s one streak of purple, Taylor.”
I kept quiet, opening my books to study. I had a report due the next day and would type it when everyone left.
Next into the basement came the B girls. Bailey and Barbie were twins and everyone just called them the B girls because it was tough to tell them apart. I could. Bailey was nicer than Barbie. Her hair was also a little darker than Barbie’s.
“Cheers, bitches,” Bailey said. “I have a report and I need a lot of help.”
Helena rolled her eyes. Bailey needed help all of the time. I often wondered what she was going to do in college when we weren’t there. The B girls dropped onto the couch while Helena grabbed some chips.
When I heard footsteps on the stairs, I expected to see my dad. He’d come down if my mother wasn’t there so he could steal some junk food. Instead, it was Dylan.
The B girls gasped. Bailey mouthed, “Is that Dylan Cabot?”
I nodded. “Can I help you, Dylan?”
“Your dad sent me down for a bag of chips,” he said.
He glanced at all of the girls, but his face showed nothing.
“The chips are in the closet,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t linger since he was coming across a little creepy.
He grabbed a bag. “Thanks.”
He trudged back up the stairs. Barbie squealed. “What is he doing in your house? He’s like a burnout or a druggy or something.”
“My father brought him home. You know how he is with strays,” I said.
That was really the only explanation.
“I think he’s kind of hot,” Bailey said.
“Hot? He’s bad news. He was caught stealing from the dollar store. The dollar store. I mean, really,” Barbie said.
I had heard many stories about Dylan and wondered if I should share them with Daddy. He should know who he invited into our house. “I think it’s for a few days while his mother is in the hospital.”
“Still, he has the bad boy mystique. Do you really think he’s had sex with as many girls as I’ve heard?” Barbie said. She shivered a little, but I could tell she was thinking it might be a good idea.
“Who told you he had sex with a lot of girls?” I asked. I was curious, okay?
Barbie shrugged. “I heard some girls talking in the bathroom. He picks the uggos, from what I can tell. Guess they’re more desperate.”
“I think he could get any girl he wanted,” Bailey said.
Oh, crap. Bailey crushed on anything with a penis. The last thing I needed was her inventing reasons to be here because of Dylan. “He’ll be gone in a few days, so we really don’t need to talk about him.”
“Shall we talk about that quarterback?” Barbie said.
Again, Helena rolled her eyes. She opened her books and, I guess, let the conversation flow around her.
“He was watching you do that split, Taylor. I think he’s into you.”
I shrugged, pretending it was no big deal, but he was Hot. With a capital H. “Maybe.”
“I bet he asks you to the dance,” Barbie said.
“We’ll see. Then I have to decide if I want to go with him.”
Chapter Three
Dylan
I opened my eyes and could
n’t believe that I had slept the whole night. That was the first time in years. I wasn’t cold or hungry. I felt safe. The idea bothered me a little. My stay here might not be long, so I shouldn’t get used to it.
I doubted that Taylor would put up with me for too long. I listened at the top of the steps as her and her friends talked last night. Wow. Girls are whacked.
No, I hadn’t had sex with a lot of girls and some of the girls who claimed to have had sex with me, I didn’t even know. Glad that in rumors I was getting so much tail.
I showered in my own bathroom. It was different after always sharing one. When I walked down to the kitchen for breakfast, Taylor was looking at her phone. Her mother was making some bacon. I couldn’t remember the last time I had bacon, let alone the last time I’d had more than stale cereal to eat. A lot of times that was dinner, too.
“Good morning, Dylan,” Mrs. Dean said.
“Good morning.”
“There’s orange juice in the fridge. Please use a glass.”
I’m poor, not ignorant, I thought, but I pressed my lips together. I had the impression that my stay here was against her judgment. I glanced at Taylor, but she didn’t look up. I wasn’t the quarterback. I wasn’t even an athlete, though I thought I could be. I wasn’t in her realm at all.
Oh, well. She could be nice and at least grunt at me.
“Good morning, Taylor,” I said, not knowing why. I couldn’t resist.
She paused in tapping on her phone and looked at me. She rolled her eyes when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. “Morning.”
She went back to her phone.
“Mr. Dean left a phone for you. We had an older iPhone lying around,” Mrs. Dean said.
What else did this family just have lying around? She handed me the phone. “Thank you.”
She also handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s the phone number for the phone and all of our phones.”
“Even mine?” Taylor interrupted.
“Yes, even yours. In case of emergency.”
“Not sure how I can help since you’ve taken my car away,” Taylor said.
So Taylor wasn’t such a goody two shoes? That surprised me.
“You’ll get it back in a week, young lady,” Mrs. Dean said.
Taylor frowned.
“I hope bacon and eggs are okay. I’m not that much of a cook,” Mrs. Dean continued.
“They’re great, ma’am.”
She put a plate in front of me and I dug in. I could see Taylor watching me for a moment. She looked away when I made eye contact. So, she was curious about me. She had a bowl of cereal in front of her that she was snacking on.
“Use a spoon, Taylor and put down your phone and talk to the boy.”
“It’s fine, Mrs. Dean. If she doesn’t want to talk to me, I’m okay. I’m usually by myself for breakfast most days.”
I could see the pity in her eyes, so I looked away. I was trying to better myself, but it was hard. I knew that my time here might be short.
“I called the hospital this morning. They are keeping your mother another day,” Mrs. Dean said. “Mr. Dean will take you to the hospital this evening to visit if you want.”
“I’d like that.”
I wasn’t sure I did, but there was no reason to piss her off if I was just going back there in a few days. Better to keep the peace.
“It’s almost time for school.”
I looked around. “There’s no bus?”
“I don’t take the bus,” Taylor said. “I usually drive, but my car is on impound.”
“I should make you take the bus,” Mrs. Dean said.
“I have to be in early,” Taylor said.
“Then hurry.”
I shoveled the rest of the food in, grateful that I wouldn’t be hungry the whole day. I was waiting for them by the car when Taylor finally sauntered out. She was clearly in no hurry. She was adorable with her long, blonde hair and large blue eyes, but she knew it. She didn’t look at me as she climbed into the front seat.
I took the back of the Mercedes SUV. I didn’t care. My stomach was full and I thought might actually learn something today.
We the whole trip to school was in silence. I didn’t care. I had things to think about, like how to keep my nose clean. Trouble always seemed to find me and I ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Taylor stopped me when we climbed out of the car. “Don’t get any ideas about talking to me. We aren’t suddenly best friends because my father considers you a stray.”
“Fine.”
I didn’t really want to talk to her, anyway. She thought the quarterback was worth dating when I knew he was a d-bag first class.
She walked away as if I’d been put in my place. I wandered into homeroom. I didn’t have any friends. Not like I could invite them over to my house. At least my clothes were clean today. That didn’t always happen.
First period was math with Taylor. She didn’t look my way, but I started watching her more. She flirted with some guys and passed notes the whole time. Maybe if she paid attention, she might understand the subject better.
I had a pop quiz in history. That day I realized how often I passed Taylor in the hallway. I had noticed her as much as any guy noticed her, but now there was a connection. She would glance my way, but I didn’t acknowledge her. She had girls and guys hanging off of her everywhere she went.
Wow. That crowd was tough. One wrong word or outfit and you could be an outcast. Real life had to be better than high school.
This place sucked – only, a little less so if I wasn’t living with my mother.
***
Last night, Mr. Dean sat me down and said that I needed to find an activity to occupy my time for the rest of the school year. I used to play baseball before things went to shit at my house. Since that sport was holding tryouts after school, I went for it.
That didn’t have to be my activity, but if I made it, why not. There were other things I could try, but being physical appealed to me. I had a lot of stress and anger and I might as well take it out on a ball and bat.
I showed up in shorts and shirt. Others had uniforms, but I was new to this. Of course, everyone looked at me and my tattoos. My mother thought tats were cool, so she let me get them. Guess I should have covered those up, but frankly, I was proud of them. I’d get more, but I haven’t had the money.
No one talked to me until one other guy showed up. He was taller than I am, which was hard to do. He held out his hand.
“I’m Cole Hassett. I’m the Captain of the team.”
“I’m Dylan Cabot.”
“This your first year trying out?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, good luck.”
Cole walked away. Suddenly, I wasn’t invisible. Several other members of the team approached me and shook my hand. For once, I felt as if I could be part of something. Usually, I stood on the sidelines, never getting involved because I never knew if something would come up and I would have to bail.
I still didn’t know, but Mr. Dean had never talked to me about when I was moving out. He planned on taking me clothes shopping this weekend. As if I were staying.
The only thing permanent in my life had been change. My mother and I had moved around a lot until last year when we settled in the trailer. I think her brother owned it and didn’t make her pay too much rent.
I’d had a few jobs since I was sixteen, but nothing stuck because I always seemed to be bailing out my mother. She was always in a crisis.
A man with a whistle around his neck who I recognized as a science teacher walked out of the school. “Gather around. Here’s the drill today. We’ll do some fielding, then we’ll bat, and then I’ll make my decision.”
That didn’t seem like a lot.
I had a glove that Mr. Dean had found. He said if I made the team, he’d buy me a new one. Nothing came for free, so I was still waiting for what the catch was. Would he get bored of me as his project and kick me out?
; I would have to prepare for that day. It could easily happen.
The coach, Mr. Rivera, had a clipboard in his hand. “Okay. I need Hassett at right field. Alphonse at center and Cabot in left. I’ll be hitting out to you to see what you can do.”
Cole smacked me on the back. “Good luck.”
I nodded and ran out to left field. I caught everything that came my way, amazed that I could remember how to do it. Then the coach hit to centerfield, and I glanced around.
The cheerleaders were practicing next to us. I noticed that Taylor was looking at me. Or at least, looking my way. Maybe she was checking out Cole. I didn’t want to presume.
Some of the other girls were also looking my way. No. They couldn’t be looking at me.
Maybe they were wondering about my tattoos. Everyone asked. It wasn’t like most people didn’t have them. I was old enough to get them on my own, but these I had from when I was younger.
I looked away, then back at Taylor. She looked away as if I’d discovered a secret of hers. They began another cheer. Did they cheer for baseball?
“Look alive, Cabot.”
I looked up in time to catch a fly ball, then throw it back to the coach. When I looked Taylor was smiling.
Maybe she was looking at me, after all.
The coach called us in for batting practice. It took me a few tries to find the bat I wanted. When I was up, I put a helmet on and stepped into the batter’s box. The first pitch whizzed by me. It made a loud smack in the catcher’s mitt.
The catcher laughed. “You’ll get used to those.”
He threw the ball back, and I was able to hit the next three pitches over the pitcher’s head and into center field. Couldn’t complain. I didn’t know if it was good enough, but I did my best.
Cole patted the seat next to him when I finished batting practice. “What made you try out for baseball?”
Was he telling me I sucked that badly? “I have to find an activity. This was the only sport trying out today.”
Cole laughed. “That’s fine. Hey, some of us are going to get burgers afterwards. You want to join us?”
I had money. Mrs. Dean had made sure I had some cash before leaving for school this morning. I could actually do that. “Uh, sure. Will we know if we made the team by then?”
“You’ll get an email tonight.”