That's What's Up!

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That's What's Up! Page 17

by Paula Chase


  She saw the blue lights before she heard the siren. They filled the little Acura, washing it in swirling white and blue. But the loud “whoooop” still made her jump out of the seat.

  Angel cursed, muttering as he dug in his pocket. A small, tightly wrapped ball of plastic was between his fingers. He shoved it at Kelly, dropping it in her lap. “Take this. Put it in your purse.”

  Kelly picked up the dark, greenish ball then dropped it like it was on fire.

  “What is it?”

  “Put it in your purse,” Angel demanded. Keeping his body as straight as possible, he reached his arm over and opened the dash, plucked out several more plastic balls and dropped them on her lap. “Just do it.” His demand turned to pleading. “Please, nenesita.”

  Kelly turned to look through the back window. She could make out the outline of a police cruiser through the darkness.

  “Don’t turn and look,” Angel barked. He cursed under his breath again. His shoulders rose then fell as he took a deep breath. He slowed the car down and pulled over to the curb. His words spilled out in a rush. “Kelly, look, just put it in your purse. Alright? It’ll be cool. I promise. Just ... just be calm.”

  “I don’t have a purse,” she said through clenched teeth. She folded her arms and challenged Angel with a “so what now,” look.

  His eyes bugged with panic for a fleeting second. He looked Kelly over then nodded his head to the bottom pocket on the leg of her capri cargo pants. “In your pocket. Put it in that little pocket.”

  Kelly shook her head. “This is unbelievable. I can’t ...”

  A bright spotlight shone into the car, cutting off her words.

  “Your pocket, nenesita,” Angel urged. He turned his face to the front of the car and put both hands on the steering wheel.

  Only moving her arms, Kelly placed the four balls in the pocket beside her knee. Tears of fury welled in her eyes.

  Me and my mother, two peas in a pod, good girls with bad boys, she thought before realizing her mind had gone there. The thought made her eyes itch as the unshed tears fought to drip. She fought them back.

  We’re not alike, she told herself.

  She thought Angel had stopped. Had made him stop. She wasn’t like her mother. She’d done the right thing. She would have never ...

  There was a clink-clink at the window as the officer motioned for Angel to put the window down.

  Kelly stared at the buttons on the officer’s shirt. She gasped as the buttons were replaced with the officer’s square-jawed, clean shaven, unsmiling face looking into the car.

  “Everything alright in here?” he asked, a slight twang making the last word “he-ah.”

  “Yes, sir,” Angel said. He faced the officer but kept his hands on the wheel.

  It made Kelly sick to her stomach that he knew the drill.

  She’d never been stopped by a policeman her entire life. Grand drove the speed limit, wore her seatbelt and was a squeaky clean driver. Kelly’s heart felt like it had stopped. She held her breath, afraid to let it go for fear the policeman would become suspicious. She let the breath out in slow, soft puffs and let the officer’s strange drawl distracther.

  “I was behind yew for the last three minutes.” The officer’s neck stretched forward. He took inventory with his eyes as he informed Angel, “Yew were swerving. Didja know that, sir?”

  “Yes, sir,” Angel said. “I was ...”

  “Yew two been drinking?” He cocked an eye over at Kelly then took one step back from the window, not bothering to wait on an answer. “Come on out, son.”

  Kelly kept her eye on the scene as the officer gave Angel a sobrietytest.

  Please, please say he and Raheem haven’t been drinking, Kelly prayed.

  She held her breath as Angel walked a straight line, touched his arms to his nose then back out wide. He seemed to be okay. Kelly couldn’t really tell. The officer’s face was stern, revealing nothing.

  She caught the words “playing around”—that was Angel—and “know better ... you kids,” from the policeman. It wasn’t until she heard “warning,” that the air escaped her like a balloon losing helium.

  Within seconds, Angel was back in the car. He waited until the shadow of the cop walking back to his cruiser passed his window before pulling the car back into the slow-moving traffic that had formed as cars instinctively slowed down for the flashing lights.

  Kelly folded her arms. She stared straight ahead, ears and face on fire, her head heavy.

  She refused to bawl outright. Instead, the tears came slow, hot and silent.

  Angel had lied to her. And he’d made her hold his ... at the thought she reached into her pocket. Her fingers slid over the plastic balls as she tried to grip them. She used her free hand to wipe her running nose and slowed down the other hand until it palmed the plastic balls. She snatched them out then threw them over at Angel.

  Her blood pressure soared when he said, “Nenesita, I’m sorry,” in his seductive romantic thug lilt.

  Her eyes popped wide and the tears streamed faster. Sorry? That’s all he was going to say? she thought. If this was a bad dream she needed to wake up now before she screamed and woke up the whole house.

  But it wasn’t.

  Angel was looking at her, his hazel eyes pleading for understanding. Waiting on her to say ... what? Okay, it’s totally fine that you just made me shove drugs in my pocket?

  She turned away from him, furious. “Angel, just take me back ... please.” She spat the last word like it angered her to use it.

  When her Sidekick tinkled, she didn’t know whether to be glad or bothered by the distraction. She eased it out of her front pocket and flipped it open, expecting an angry text from Mina wondering where they were. She frowned, wiped at her eyes and moved the Sidekick closer to her face.

  “Extreme Skank?” she muttered, confused, then gasped when she saw the pictures.

  Extreme Skank

  “Men don’t want no hot female, that’s been around the block female.”

  —Destiny’s Child, “Nasty Girl”

  It didn’t matter that Brian’s chest was pressed against her back, warming her against the ocean’s breezy chill. Or that she had anotherninety minutes of social life left before her parents brought down what would no doubt be the ultimate punishment. Or that Lizzie and Todd were the world’s cutest shadows walking hand in hand near the water’s edge. All Mina could think about was Jacinta and JZ.

  She nodded and threw in a few “un-huh’s” at Brian’s attempts to move on, her eyes wandering, staring off into the night, picking out JZ, then Lizzie, then back to JZ.

  JZ’s feelings were hurt. Not that he’d ever admit it. He didn’t have to. Mina knew it as soon as he hopped up talking about checkingout girls. Whether she liked it or not, JZ and Jacinta’s flirting had turned to something more, even if neither of them admitted it. In Mina’s opinion, Jacinta going to hear Raheem out, or whatever she wanted to call it, was an insult to JZ. Sympathy for him pricked her heart.

  He’d shaken it off, carousing and hopping from circle to circle of people talking and ... he had a red cup in his hand, so drinking too. He’d come back to the blanket three times, each time louder and more animated than the last.

  The third time, to Mina’s horror, he’d asked Brian if he needed any “protection.”

  All she could do was whisper-shout, “Jay!” hoping he’d at least lower his voice.

  But Brian had chuckled, given JZ a pound and said, “Naw, player, I’m good.You better take it easy, spilling like that.”

  “I’m good, son,” JZ said. Mina had shaken her head as his feet got caught in the cheer blankets and he tripped but didn’t fall as he walked off.

  Then there was Jacinta, the reason JZ was already loudly inebriated.

  Mina didn’t know whether to be mad or feel sorry for her. Every time she’d chosen a side, a new thought changed her mind. She was leaning back toward mad when Brian pushed himself up.

  She looked up
in confusion.

  How long had she been dazing?

  Brian’s hand loomed in front of her. She took it and let him pull her into a standing position.

  “Let’s walk,” he said.

  They made their way through the thick clusters of partyers to the water’s edge and walked the opposite direction of Lizzie and Todd. Brian softly squeezed her hand. The electricity raced to her fingers and Mina’s grip relaxed, letting Brian’s hand completely enclose hers. They walked in silence until the party was nothing more than dark shadows, dimmed kerosene lamps and cell phone ghost lights.

  Away from the crowd, the ocean crashing against the shore took its rightful place as the loudest sound in the night. The silence took Mina back to the night before, and Brian’s request to be honest with him about how she felt. Sudden shyness took over.

  The moon shone bright on the beach, sandwiching them between the heavy darkness of the endless ocean and the string of hotels’speckled lighting on the other. She glanced over at him, able to see every feature of his face in the moon’s light.

  A wave of happy bubbles floated in her stomach, loosening her tongue. “So, are you mad at me?”

  “No. Why?”

  She raised her voice to be heard over the waves. “Because of what I said to Cinny.”

  Brian’s eyebrows jumped, just a little. “No.” There was a “but” at the end of his short sentence and Mina, in an uncharacteristic show of patience, waited for him to finish. Twenty seconds later he stopped walking and turned to her. “I just don’t get why you think you always need to jump in and help.”

  “Okay, you did see Raheem slap her, right?” Mina folded her arms against the breeze whipping off the water. Irritation rose in her chest.

  Brian’s chest rose and fell in a soft rhythm. He chose his words carefully. “Yeah, I saw it. It was foul ... and ... I mean, that’s your girl. So I understand why you ran to help her out. I’m not saying that was wrong.”

  “Then what did I do wrong?” Mina’s eyebrows arched.

  “I’m not trying to argue with you, toughie.” Brian rubbed her arms. A smile tugged at his mouth and the corner of his eyes.

  Hearing the nickname he’d given her for being so headstrong alwayssoftened her. She closed the space between them, walking into Brian’s arms. He wrapped them around her and she soaked in his scent before looking up at him. “I’m just trying to have my girl’s back.”

  “Word. I’m with that,” Brian said.

  “But?”

  He laughed. “But, sometimes you just need let it play out and then be there for your girl on the back end.” He shrugged. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Fine.” She buried her face in his shirt, her voice muffled. “So I should just be there when Raheem pimp-slap her again?”

  She looked up into his laughing face and smiled.

  “I didn’t say all that.” Brian moved his face down to hers. “Do you, toughie. I ain’t mad.”

  Mina eagerly met him halfway as their faces collided softly, endingin a kiss. They kissed slow, relishing each second in a way they couldn’t at school or when Mina’s parents were hanging out in the next room. Brian pulled away. He held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t take this wrong, alright?”

  “What? The kiss?” Mina asked, dazed.

  Why? It was fuggin’ awesome, she thought, lost in the way Brian’s mouth tasted like cinnamon Altoids. She hated the things, they were too hot, but they tasted good—mildly spicy—on his mouth and made her tongue tingle.

  “Naw.” Brian’s chuckle was soft, ironic as if he still wasn’t used to some of the crazy things that came out of Mina’s mouth. He kept his face close to hers as he said, “Don’t take it wrong when I ask, for the next hour we don’t talk about Jacinta or JZ or anybody else.”

  Mina giggled. “That wasn’t a question.”

  “Exactly.” He kissed her again, squeezing her closer to him for a second before letting go. He led her back to the sandy, darkened part of the beach and they sat, her between his legs again, leaning back on his chest.

  The night was turning cold. Sitting in the cooling sand made it even colder. But a snowstorm wouldn’t have sent Mina inside a secondbefore ten forty-five. She wriggled deeper against Brian’s chest when he put his arms around her, shielding her from some of the cool air.

  Mina sighed, a mix of contentment and sadness. “You do realize that I’m so punished when I get home, right?”

  Brian nuzzled her neck. “Yup. Want take bets on how long?”

  She sucked her teeth. “Not even funny ... but, I’m thinking at least a month.”

  “Da-yum, for real?” Brian’s arms squeezed her. “So can I date other chicks or what?”

  Mina’s head whipped against his chest as she turned to look up at him. “See, I know you think that’s funny, but I d-o-n-t.”

  His laughter startled a couple walking by.

  “My b-a-d. At least you won’t be by yourself. Your girls be on lockdown with you.”

  “True.” Mina pondered out loud, “As long as the ’rents at least let me have internet access ... I can get through this.”

  “Um-huh, then I can still send you nasty IMs.”

  She smacked at his knees, embarrassment warming her cheeks. She almost found herself thinking maybe punishment would be a good thing, help slow things down a little—help them keep that brand-new couple feeling. But Brian’s lips were on her neck, makingher toes curl. The thought of slowing down was crushed by alarms going off in her brain as it sang, God, this feels good. God, this feels good. God, this feels GOOD.

  Mina jumped, startled when her phone vibrated and Brian’s blared T-Pain’s “Buy U A Drank,” at the same time. She’d ignored the last five times it buzzed. This time she dug into her jacket pocket as Brian lifted himself up and took his cell out of his back pocket. They both flipped their phones open at the same time.

  “I got a text,” they chorused.

  “Jinx! Buy me ...” Mina stopped short when she opened the message titled Extreme Skank and saw herself lip locked with Craig.

  Only the ocean made a sound as she and Brian both stared down at the pic on their phones, silent.

  In a way, Mina wasn’t surprised to see the photos. There were two. As she gaped at them, her brain cells split into two camps, the “well, you should have known betters” and the “not agains.”

  Deadly silent behind her, Brian’s chest heaved up and down, up and down, first slow, then a little faster every second he stared wordlesslyat his phone.

  As seconds ticked by without him uttering a word, her heart crawled to the base of her throat, threatening to walk right out of her mouth.

  Mina grilled the pictures. Someone had caught one of her and Craig face-to-face, but not kissing. It was grainy and shadowy, but Mina recognized it. She’d been falling out of one of the wobbly guy stunts and was ready to topple completely over Craig’s head when he’d reached his arms up and basically plucked her out of the sky insteadof really catching her. It was an awkward, clumsy catch. Her back had the shirt burn to prove it.

  Whoever (Jessica) had taken it, had a flash on their cam phone, but it hadn’t done a good job of combating the beach’s darkness. The two shadows could have been anyone. Mina could have totally pleaded innocence on that one.

  It was the kissing pic that was the killer. The image was crystal clear and by some strange twist of fate or technology, while her face hadn’t been easily identifiable—too covered by Craig’s—the blue ribbon she’d been wearing in her hair, with BubbliMi in gold letters,jumped off the picture, daring her to pull that old “it’s not me” bull.

  She ignored Brian’s silence and rapid breathing for as long as she could before standing up and blurting, “It’s not what you think.”

  “It’s not a picture of you and Craig kissing?” Brian stared up at her, his usually smiling eyes not.

  The spit fled Mina’s mouth at the dryness in his voice. The underlyingaccusation, naked and ma
tter-of-fact, was worse than if he had yelled or been sarcastic. She had no idea how to answer the question, since obviously it was exactly what it looked like.

  Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “It’s Jessica,” she said, every word accompanied by a weird clicking sound as her tongue dislodged itself each time.

  And before Brian could say what his eyes were already shouting Mina turned heel, hot-footing it back to the party, the sudden urge to confront Jess a living ball of fear, anger and resignation.

  Upper Hazing

  “Hey, you, I don’t like your girlfriend.”

  —Avril Lavigne, “Girlfriend”

  Jessica had watched Mina and Brian walk off into the darkness and waited, giving them a chance to savor their alone time. At the time, a delicious sense of satisfaction filled her chest as she wondered how Mina would untangle herself out of this and bright-side it.

  There’d been dozens of Extreme Moments sent since yesterday’s Individual & Partner stunt performance. People had been caught in some kooky, posed positions from Thursday night at Guidos, and even crazier candid shots from last night—some people in even more compromising positions than Mina.

  With every cell phone an automatic video cam, you’d think people would be more careful, Jess thought wryly.

  The difference between Mina’s photo and everyone else’s was, that Jess had, of course, choreographed Mina’s photo to perfection. Actually, it had ended up better than she’d expected. All she’d really done was talk Bo into getting Craig over to Mina’s table. The best she’d hoped for was a close, cozy one of Mina grinning as usual. The whole kiss had been all Craig, a little extra windfall that had made its way into Jess’s plan.

  She squinted into the night and knew immediately that the shadowyspeck heading briskly her way was Mina.

  Let the fireworks begin, she thought, now weary and a little less happy than she’d been a few minutes ago, because the plan hadn’t gone totally according to plan.

  “Is that her?” Mari-Beth teetered on wobbly legs beside her. Her words slurred slightly from the syrupy concoction Breck had been feeding her all night.

 

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