Chokepoint

by Jill Williamson

  “I thought you had a girlfriend. That one who came looking for you every afternoon a few weeks back.”

  “What girl?” I’d think I’d know if I had a girlfriend.

  Gabe blew out a short breath and grabbed a milk. “Why do I bother?”

  “You know what?” I grabbed two milks in one hand and shook them at Gabe. “Whatever.” I took my tray the opposite direction of Gabe. I sat at a table with Desh and Chaz and most of the team.

  “Yo, Spencer, my man!” Desh said, reaching out a fist.

  I knocked it, then dove into my chicken fried steak.

  “So who you taking to homecoming, dude?” Chaz asked me.

  Really? There must be other things to talk about in the world. Global warming. The new Bond movie. The Lakers. “Not going,” I told Chaz. All the girls that Gabe had feared I’d corrupted had found dates. And I’d blown it with Beth. There was no one left.

  “You have to go,” Desh said. “We’re all go—”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t have a date and I don’t dance, so why get all dressed up to hang out with you people? I do that every day on the court. I prefer sweat and shorts to a zoot suit, anyway.”

  Chaz snickered.

  “Spencer!” a girl’s voice said.

  I turned to the table behind me.

  Katie Lindley had twisted on the bench so she could see me. “I’ll go with you,” she said.

  Both tables fell silent. I felt the air dry my mouth. I closed it and swallowed my bite of steak.

  Desh whistled. Chaz cooed like a siren. My face warmed.

  “As friends,” Katie said, her eyes flashing at Chaz and Desh.

  I played it cool, acted like it didn’t matter either way. I looked down at the floor, then back to Katie and shrugged. “Okay.”

  Desh whacked me on the back. “Well, there you go, you dog. Now you’re going to have to find yourself a shower and something more than shorts.”

  • • •

  A suit. I needed a suit. And didn’t girls care about matching ties and garbage like that? Arianna said something about flowers for Katie’s wrist. Why would someone put flowers on their wrist? And how were we going to get there? I couldn’t drive. And I sure wasn’t asking Grandma Alice to drive us. I consulted the Prude Patrol when I got to class the next morning.

  Gabe laughed, obviously enjoying my naïveté. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

  Whatever. “Well, at least I have a date.” The Prude Patrol president would likely be sitting home, guarding the virtues of his twin sisters and earning merit badges.

  “Maybe not.” Gabe nodded behind me.

  I turned my head.

  Jake stood behind my chair, his expression blank. “Sup, Gabe?”

  “Not much,” Gabe said. “I just found out that—”

  “That’s great, I’m thrilled for you.” Jake’s hands clamped down on my shoulders, and he leaned his head close to my ear. “Garmond… You asked out my baby sister?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s right. You got a problem with that?”

  Jake let go and sat in the chair on my right. His jaw twitched. “How you gonna get her there?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You’ll ride with us, then. And you better buy her something nice. I don’t want to see no carnation on my baby sister.”

  “No carnation. Got it.”

  “You pay for her dinner. We’re going to Bella Vista. It’s Italian. You eat that, right?”

  “Yeah, Jake. I eat Italian.”

  “Right then. I’ll be watching you.”

  “Excellent.”

  Jake’s eyebrows jumped up on his forehead. “Don’t be smart with me.”

  “I promise to treat her like a nun.”

  “Don’t go and ruin all her fun, now.”

  I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter. Gabe too. We laughed so hard that Jake rolled his eyes and slipped away to the Diakonos table.

  “You got guts,” Gabe said.

  I scoffed. “Jake’s all talk,” I said, hoping it was true.

  REPORT NUMBER: 7

  REPORT TITLE: I Make Out with a Tube of Tinfoil

  SUBMITTED BY: Agent-in-Training Spencer Garmond

  LOCATION: Grandma Alice’s House, Pilot Point, California, USA

  DATE AND TIME: Saturday, April 26, 12:18 p.m.

  I finally broke down and mentioned the dance to Grandma. This turned out to be a good move on my part. Not only did she get me a wrist corsage for Katie, she dragged me into her room so I could see all Grandpa Earl’s old suits. This could have been a disaster, but Grandma had kept everything, including some sweet suits Grandpa had worn in his twenties. I wondered if he’d ever gone undercover to some diplomatic ball like James Bond and danced with exotic foreign women.

  A few of the suits had wonky huge lapels—and I wasn’t touching any shirts with ruffles—but there was a descent black suit. It stank like only an old closet could, and Grandma promised to get the thing dry cleaned and the pant legs lengthened.

  Donesville.

  I didn’t get a chance to look through the file cabinet in Grandma’s bedroom, though, for pictures of my mom, but the fact that Grandma had all Grandpa Earl’s old clothes seemed a good sign that she’d kept something of her daughter’s too.

  • • •

  Jake drove a 2002 Ford Ranger. Two door. It didn’t even have suicide doors. When he told me to get in the back, I just stood there holding the flower box, staring.

  He couldn’t be serious.

  Oh, but he was. He ran around to the passenger’s door and opened it so his date, Chrystal Figueroa, could get out. Jake was wearing a red bowtie to match Chrystal’s red dress.

  “Jake,” Chrystal said, “I don’t mind getting in back. Really.”

  “Not to worry, girl,” Jake said, folding back her seat. “Spencer is a gentleman, aren’t you, Spencer?”

  “Sure.” I just didn’t know if I could fold myself up like a newspaper.

  Two little jump seats folded down behind the front bucket seats. Katie already sat tucked behind Jake’s seat, looking like a candy bar. Her dress was silver and shiny, and she’d piled her hair in a mountain on her head.

  “Here.” I reached in and handed her the flower box.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  I stretched my left leg inside first, then dove in. My back scraped against the roof, and I curled my spine as much as possible. I reached back to make sure the seat was folded down, and sank onto it. It felt like I was sitting on a spool of thread.

  “See, no problem,” Jake said, pushing Chrystal’s seat back into position. It hit my shoulder and knocked me against the back wall of the cab. I pulled my feet in as much as possible, hoping I wasn’t stepping on Katie’s.

  She giggled. “Like the ride?”

  “I thought clown cars were bigger on the inside.”

  “Don’t knock my wheels,” Jake said, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.

  “Thanks for the corsage.” Katie had opened the box and put the thing on her wrist. It was bigger than her hand.

  “Nice dress,” I said, which was a total lie. I would have preferred her basketball uniform over this. This normally cute girl looked like a robot dressed in aluminum ruffles.

  Bella Vista was delicious. I gave Jake ten bucks more than Katie and my meals cost, determined not to give him a reason to say one thing against me come Monday.

  Once we got to the dance, Jake, thankfully, ditched us. The sound was deafening in the cafeteria. Katie wrapped her silver-gloved hand around my arm and dragged me across the dance floor. I felt stupid, walking beside a tube of tinfoil.

  I spotted Kip and the guys at a table in the corner, but Katie pulled me straight to the dance floor. I only stayed because it was a slow song. Slow I could do, though the moment I put my arms around Katie, the instinct came over me to pull her to the floor in a takedown hold.

  She probably wouldn’t have appreciated a move like that. Not like Be
th would have.

  On our right, a circle of onlookers was forming around two dancers. Katie took my hand and pulled us into the outer ring.

  A guy twirled his date around like something out of Dancing with the Stars. When they came closer, I recognized Isabel’s brother Lukas—the manicure guy—and some cute blond I didn’t know. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a pink shirt and gray vest, a skinny black tie, and skinny jeans. His hair was white and sculpted into a faux-hawk. His date was wearing a short white and black dress with a fat pink belt.

  Man. I could appreciate the guy’s style and rhythm and his date’s toned legs, but did he have to make the rest of us look like chumps?

  When the song ended, Katie and I went over to the basketball table. I bumped fists with the team, but before I could grab a chair, Katie kicked off her silver heels and pulled me back to the dance floor.

  I just stood there, mortified, as Katie got jiggy with it. She reached out and tugged my hands a few times, as if that might trigger my groove thang.

  Too bad I didn’t have one.

  “Hey.” She pulled my head down and said into my ear, “Pretend you’re holding a basketball.”

  I straightened, embarrassed that she was on to me and my lack of rhythm, but also intrigued by her suggestion. I closed my eyes and gave it a try. The mere idea of holding a ball instantly limbered me up. I might have looked like a freak, but at least I didn’t feel like one. I was no Lukas Rodriguez, but I was okay with that.

  When Katie finally got tired, she towed me to a table beside Kip’s, where the girls’ basketball team was sitting.

  Kip came over and we bumped fists. “Saw you dancing out there. What brought that on?”

  “Tell you later.” Or never. Let Kip think I’d conquered my fears on my own.

  “Get me some punch, Kip?” Meagan said, batting her eyes.

  “Sure, babe.”

  As Kip walked away, I used my iPhone whip app to make the sound of a cracking whip. Kip flashed me a not-so-kind hand gesture. I laughed.

  Trella leaned across the table and said, “You look hot tonight, Spencer.”

  Sure. Like I’d believe a word out of Trella-the-troll’s mouth. But every girl at the table was staring at me, and my cheeks burned. The girls burst into giggles.

  “Katie! He’s blushing!” Brianna said.

  Like, five of them chorused, “Awww!” in unison.

  “How cute!” Michelle said.

  One girl, I could maybe handle, but all of these girls at once, I admit, made me nervous. I tuned them out and used My Precious to take a picture of Kip carrying his old lady’s punch back.

  That was so going on my Facebook page.

  Gabe, Arianna, Isabel, Nick, and Lukas and his hot date were dancing in a group. There were a couple other people with them. A girl named Cammy who was in my computer programming class acted like she was with Gabe. And a chubby guy who looked like he was in the chess club was standing beside Arianna. The fast song ended and a slow one came on.

  “Katie, can I dance with your date?” a girl said.

  “No way,” Katie said. “Get your own date.”

  My head whipped back to the table of girls. Who’d asked that?

  “Come on, please?” It was Trella-the-troll, the girl who’d said I was too tall and had ape arms. Whaaaat?

  Katie hummed; her eyes rolled up at the ceiling. “Let me borrow your blue Converse?”

  “Deal.” Trella jumped up and grabbed my hand.

  Hold up. Did Katie just trade me for a pair of Chucks? I pulled back, but Trella hung on.

  Katie stuck out her bottom lip. “Please, Spencer?”

  The sound of a whip turned my head to where Kip was sitting with Megan, holding up his own iPhone. Nice. He made it whip again. Well, I’d show him.

  “Yeah… I’m a one woman man,” I said, wishing Gabe had been around to hear that.

  Trella let go of me by throwing my hand against my chest. I hadn’t been ready for it, and when it slapped against my tie and Kip laughed, I felt stupid. Plus, now Katie seemed mad at me too. She and her friends went out to dance and didn’t drag me along. Break my heart, I know.

  I saw her say something to Jake, and wondered if she was complaining. I moved over to Kip’s table, but being the only witness to their spit swapping festival turned out to be worse than sitting alone. I used My Precious to go online and post my picture of Kip on Facebook.

  Jake tapped my shoulder. “I’m leaving and Katie wants to hang with her friends somewhere. You’re going with her, right? So make sure she gets home.”

  “Uh… Yeah. Sure.” But I didn’t have a car. Did that mean I’d be stuck with Katie’s friends until they took me home?

  Shortly thereafter, Katie and her friends returned. She dragged me by the hand out into the hallway to a deserted corner where a gate locked off the hallway to the classrooms and lockers. She pressed up against me, the silver fabric of her dress sounded like sandpaper against my suit jacket. “You don’t like Trella?”

  The troll? “Not really, no.”

  Katie tilted her head and smirked, batting her eyes. “You know, the first time you kissed me, I saw fireworks.”

  My eyebrows sank. Katie’s eyes flittered around my face to my hair, my eyes, my chin. Did I have something on my face? Punch?

  “You’re so cute,” she said in a whisper, then ran her gloved fingers along the lapels of my jacket. “Don’t you know?”

  I shivered at her touch and shook my head. It was true. I didn’t know what made girls chase after guys, but they rarely chased after me. Ape arms, perhaps? The orange hair? I didn’t have a clue.

  Katie giggled and leaned closer to me, looking up at my face again.

  Oh. She wanted me to kiss her. I was suddenly sure of it. Only I didn’t want to. This surprised me, and I fought to understand the problem. She was nice enough, but… well… she wasn’t Beth.

  Curse Beth Watkins, anyway. I wanted that girl out of my head.

  Katie’s friend Brianna interrupted my need to make a choice. “Let’s go, girl.”

  Katie took my hand and pulled me along. I was grateful to see Chaz in the group.

  “Where are we going?” I asked him.

  “Cruising in the limo.”

  Sure enough. We all piled into a long, white limo that Chaz had rented. I ended up sandwiched between Chaz and Katie.

  The car rolled forward and pulled into traffic. With ten giggling girls, it was almost louder than the dance. Chaz and I were the only guys in the car beside the driver.

  Chaz opened the sunroof and we all took a turn standing out of it. It was kind of fun. But then the car stopped and everyone got out in front of a huge, two story house with pillars around the front porch. No way. I’d spent half my childhood playing here while Grandma and Nick’s mom made quilts. The party was at Nick Muren’s place. The parsonage.

  The boom of loud music vibrated the sidewalk under my fancy shoes. Dozens of people spilled in and out the front door. Katie led me inside the dark and smoky house. The familiar smells of cigarette smoke and pot reminded me of the times the Seis Puños—a middle school gang Nick and I had started—had gotten into mischief here.

  A few lamps were on, but the place was painted in shadows. I could hardly see the furniture through the mass of bodies dancing, sitting, standing, and—I did a double take—making out. People covered the wide staircase that curved up the side of the foyer. I didn’t recognize anyone.

  “Let’s dance, sweet thing.” A huge guy grabbed Katie and twirled her around.

  She squealed and stomped on his foot, but her attempts did nothing to deter him.

  “Get off!” I pulled them apart and the guy wandered away.

  Katie linked her arm with mine. “Thanks.”

  We moved into the writhing horde. I felt queasy. Was it the cigarette smoke? No. It was something else. Something dark. Like the creepy feeling Anya or Dmitri Berkovitch gave off when I’d met them in Moscow.

  “W
e should leave,” I said. Besides, with the racket this party was making, the cops wouldn’t be long, and an arrest would get me suspended from the team.

  “We just got here,” Katie said. “Let’s look for Nick.”

  Yeah… I so didn’t want to run into Nick Muren. “Let’s not and say we did.”

  “Let’s find someplace to sit, then.”

  Sit? Why?

  “Here.” Katie pushed me into an armchair by the fireplace and sat on my lap. Before I could say anything, she started kissing me.

  Oh… kay.

  I lost track of the time, letting the girl have her way with my lips. Maybe Kip would see us and get off my back about my not having a girlfriend. But I didn’t want Katie to claim me as her boyfriend, though. That could be Sherry all over again. Even if Katie wasn’t crazy—and that was a big if—I didn’t want the whole ball and chain thing Kip had going with Megan. Not with Katie, anyway. She was really cute, but…

  I grabbed her face and pushed her back. “Hey,” I said.

  Her eyes yawned open. “Yeah?”

  “I, uh… I can’t do this.” I could, actually. I rather liked kissing girls. But as Coach always said, “The best defense is a good offense.”

  Katie’s eyes clouded. “What?”

  Oh, Jake was going to kill me. “I’m sorry, I…” I couldn’t believe I almost gave her the, “It’s not you, it’s me” line. I pushed her off my lap and stood. She folded her arms, pouting. Great. “Hey, why don’t we go outside?” Before the cops arrested us and I lost everything?

  “Whatever.” She started for the door, but Lukas Rodriquez blocked our way.

  “You see my sister?” he asked me.

  “Oh, hey, Lukas. No. Where’s your date?” I scanned the room for the hot blond.

  “By the door. She doesn’t want to come in. I’m just here to get Isabel out.”

  “Right.” Protective brother at it again. But even I didn’t like the idea of Isabel at this party. “Hey, Katie. Why don’t you go stand with Lukas’ date at the door?”

  She folded her arms and scowled. “You’re not the boss of me, Spencer.”

  See? I did not want that snarky tone in a girlfriend. Major crisis averted. “I’m just going to help Lukas find his sister, then we’ll go.”