“Hey, Tom, how come you’re in our lunch period?” I settled into a chair.
“I was in study hall and asked Mrs. Carmody if I could spend it in the lunchroom. She’s cool.”
“What a liar.” Gwen frowned at him. “He told Carmody that if he didn’t get something to eat, he was going to faint from hunger.” She placed her hand on her chest, and stressed, “Faint, really?”
“Yeah. Well, it worked, cause she said I could go to the cafeteria.” Tom’s eyes twinkled as he gazed at Gwen.
“No Dee yet?” I asked, feeling relieved.
“She’ll be late,” Candy said, lacking an explanation.
I looked out the window and observed Jimmy and the team, dressed in sweats and practicing on the field—minus Michael. With the onslaught of blustery days, ogling naked chests was out of the picture until spring. Seeing my distraction, the girls turned in their seats.
“Michael’s not in school,” Candy said. “Coach is probably furious. The play-off game is on Saturday against Orchard Park.”
I couldn’t get Michael’s beat up face and body from my thoughts. And I wanted him all the more. When Stevie had come home from Michael’s yesterday, he’d intentionally sought me out to give me an update. He’d informed me that Michael was a hurting dude, as my brother put it, and assumed the guy would need days if not a week to recover.
“So everyone knows about the fight club,” Gwen said, talking with a mouthful. “I still can’t believe you snuck out of your house, Mary.”
Should I tell them about Phoenix’s vision?
“I remember how freaked you were the day you skipped school with us.” Candy stripped the paper from her straw and dunked it into her carton of milk. “You’ve come a long way, hun.”
“Man, it was frigging amazing.” Tom looked hyped. “Wasn’t it, Mary? Michael’s face looked like a piece of meat, and—”
“Tom, I’d rather not get into the nitty-grisly right now.” I swirled my finger in my vanilla pudding. “I’m trying to eat.” Plainly, I wasn’t going to hear about the dance.
“So he challenged this Tank guy for money?” Candy asked, broaching the subject.
“Phoenix needs money to get her van fixed,” Tom offered. “He’s a real sap for the ladies, I guess.”
Not what I wanted to hear.
“So now he’s too injured to play in the game?” Candy thumped back in her chair, crossing her arms.
“He said he’s playing.” Tom’s hand reached for his lips and twisted them as if he wanted to blurt something. “Did anybody see the scars on Michael’s back? Real nasty.”
“Are you sure they’re scars?” said Dee.
Hearing her voice, my body jerked. She’d snuck up on us.
“Yep, sure enough.”
I didn’t think Tom’s eyes could get any rounder and bigger.
“Oh, crap, Carmody’s at the door.”
Gwen pushed him off his seat. “She’s pointing at you. You’d better go.”
Tom skedaddled faster than I’d figured his skinny butt could move. Now, I had Dee breathing over at my shoulder. I peeked at my watch. Darn, ten minutes left in my lunch period.
“Those jerk-offs made us leave before the dance was even over.” Dee’s tone was vile as she sounded off about the dance. “They practically threw us out of the truck to meet up with Steve and those hippie creepazoids at a stupid club.”
My heart performed a perky two-step, if her story meant the date was a flop.
As if my being with them at the club was top-secret, Gwen held her fingers over her mouth, and speaking in a muted undertone, she divulged, “Mary was there.”
“Oh really?” Dee’s eyes slid my way. “Candy forgot to mention that.”
Because of the cadence of her voice and her ominous expression, I wondered if any of the guys had squealed or would squeal about Michael kissing me. I looked to Candy and doubted my ability to assuage Dee’s wrath. “Steve called you yesterday to explain, didn’t he? And you were meeting with Dee.”
“The cheating, filthy scumbag.” She slammed her fork to her tray. “He told me what happened. But I had to go to my grandma’s for her birthday and couldn’t go to the park. Your brother’s a royal jackass.” Butchering her meatloaf, she gnawed on a chunk like a riled lion.
Obviously, my brother hadn’t revealed why I had been coerced into the dead of night to witness Michael’s suicide. Perhaps he’d assumed that talking about Phoenix’s unbelievable vision wouldn’t endear him to Candy.
The silence between friends set my teeth on edge.
Dee ripped into her untypical bagged lunch and unwrapped a sandwich. Finally speaking, though visibly miffed, she said, “Candy phoned and told me all the sordid details. Excluding Mary’s presence. I called Michael right away. His Aunt said he couldn’t come to the phone, and he never called me back.” Her temper overflowed as she pounded her fist into her double layers of bread.
It turned into a revolving discussion as Gwen related, “When Tom came knocking at my door yesterday, I wanted to slam it in his face. He acted sorry about the shitty ending to the dance. And then gloated as if I should be thrilled with the wad of money they’d won.” She gave us a cynical lift to her eyebrows.
“Big frigging deal. Michael won,” Candy said and shoved her tray to the middle of the table. “But he’s wrecked.”
“So…” We had to get off the fight business. “Did Homecoming suck as much as I’ve been hearing?” Fidgeting in my seat, I wanted and did not want to hear the outcome. My eyes flit to Gwen and Dee.
“Um…it was all right,” Gwen said, bobbling her head from shoulder to shoulder as if she were uncertain. “It was kind of nice getting dressed up and seeing Tom looking decent in a pair of nice pants that actually stayed on his hips.”
We snickered.
“Dee and I had fun dancing, even though the band wasn’t very good.”
“Michael’s a good dancer.” Dee acted as if it was a struggle to relate as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Shifting in her chair to peer at me through tapered eyelids, she said, “You already know that, don’t you, Mary?”
“Huh?” Is she referring to Putnam’s? The one time we danced and had scarcely moved our feet. I didn’t feel the need to add fuel to her fire.
Candy solved the edginess by probing for juicy specifics. “So-o-o, nothing? Nothing after the dance? Michael just drove the two of you home?” Her head swerved from Gwen to Dee, eyes wide in expectation.
“Michael’s real good.” Dee modified her tense expression with a serpentine curl to her lips.
My stomach dropped to my knees.
“We barely made it out of the parking lot.” Gwen supplied more.
“Yeah.” Dee glimpsed me from the corner of her eyes. “All the way to the next driveway. In the bus garage, hidden between the buses.”
“I was glad when Michael upped the volume on the radio.” Gwen winked. “As soon as Dee straddled Michael’s lap, Tom practically jumped my bones.” A subdued moan of pleasure rattled her throat.
“Michael was bulging at the seams,” Dee said smugly. “I was a little nervous ‘cause we know he’s kind of wild.”
“So…” Candy said with a fervent gleam to her eyes. “how far did you take him?”
It took willpower not to plaster my hands over my ears. I didn’t want to know, and not only was my sandwich lodged in my throat, it was becoming volcanic.
“Far enough.” Dee didn’t restrain her guise of satisfaction.
“More?” Candy wiggled her fingers. She couldn’t get enough. “Is it official, are you and Michael going out?”
“I gave him a teaser taste.” She resumed the poised act. “I asked him to the dance. It’s his move.”
My chin fell to my chest. At the club, he’d shocked me by asking my brother if he could kiss me. Ever since, I
’d been optimistically contemplating if it was his manner of requesting Stevie’s permission to date his sister. After hearing Dee’s revelation, how erroneous could I be? In remembrance, I worked my fingertips over my lips.
I dumped my leftovers into the trash and placed my tray on the washing counter.
As I walked from the cafeteria, Gwen met up with me and asked, “Have you heard from Jesse?”
I transferred my books in my arms and pushed an errant piece of hair behind my ear. “Steve asked me that too. Why does everyone think he’s calling me?”
Matching me step for step and shoulder to shoulder, she said, “Because he likes you, and I just thought he might’ve phoned. Tom said Jesse’s been on an ultimate stoner. He’s missed a lot of school.”
“No, he hasn’t called.”
I’d felt as if I’d been a ticking time bomb throughout the day. Tramping into the house, I whipped my math textbook against the wall. The dam burst, and tears charged down my face. Michael Covington was killing me.
Is he a good guy or a two-faced turd that molested me and is playing me?
I squeezed a handful of tissues to my runny eyes and nose. While in my bedroom, I intended to expel my misery with music. Increasing the volume, “I Heard It Through the Grapevine” rattled the pictures on my walls—a pertinent song.
Following dinner, my body drooped over the kitchen table as I anguished over my math homework. I attempted to unbend the damaged spine of the textbook. It must’ve cracked when I‘d thrown it at the wall, and hoped my parents wouldn’t discover the divot it made in the plaster. When the phone rang, it was a much-needed break.
Heavy breathing came over the wire.
“Hello,” I repeated, and thinking it was a prank, started to hang up.
“Ma-a-rrry?”
I stopped in midair and peddled the receiver to my ear. “Yes.”
“Hey, babe…. It’s me…. Jesse.” His voice sounded strange as if he was in a cave. Everybody knew he’d call, except me.
“Hi, Jesse, what’s up?”
“Nutin.’ Jus’ wanted to hear…your voice.”
“You don’t sound like yourself. Are you okay?”
“Yesssh… I’m flying man. Feelin’ great. You wantta feel great with me, babe?”
“Ummm…” Can I hang up and pretend he never called? “Steve’s worried about you. So are Tom and the guys. Where’ve you been?”
“I’m…in the basement. My parents…made a room for me down here.” His words were musically drawn-out. “It’s like…my own personal apartment. Come on over.”
“I have tons of homework tonight.” I wished to God Stevie was home.
“Hey, babe…. Wanna come…come over?” he asked again as if his brain couldn’t soak in what I’d just said.
“Can I call you back when I’m done with my homework?” Apprehensive over his bizarro condition, I didn’t know what to do or say.
“Sure, Maarrry. I’ll see you…in a little bit. ‘Kay?” He disconnected the call before I had a chance to ask for his phone number.
CHAPTER 18
The girls convened in the main floor lavatory before homeroom where I described Jesse’s call.
“Are you talking about Jesse Coogan?” asked a girl who’d been brushing her hair in front of the mirror. “I saw him coming into school today.”
We drew relieved breaths, and should’ve known better than to become so neurotic.
“Hey, Michael Covington’s standing outside the door,” came an odd announcement. “He’s looking for a girl.”
Dee turned to Candy with an I got him grin.
“He wants Mary Monroe to come out, or he said he’d come in after her.”
My heart hurdled against my ribcage. And my friends rounded on me as if I’d just committed a mortal crime.
“I don’t know why he wants to see me.” My gaze roved from one to the next though it was hard to contain my joy.
“He’s coming in,” someone thundered.
Clusters of girls quieted into subdued whisperings, and all heads turned for Michael’s imminent appearance. I lobbed my cigarette into the toilet bowl and threaded through the maze. I sensed the eyes of my so-called friends knifing me in the back.
Every girl mewled in rapture as he stepped into the lav. He clasped my wrist and carted me into the hallway. His exquisite face was deplorable, swollen and scrubbed raw by Tank and the cement floor at the club. Severely bruised skin bloomed around his eye and nose, and his chin was re-sutured where the welted scar had once been.
“I know,” he said with an edge of disdain. “By the look in your eyes, I can see you think I’m dazzling, right?”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
With his hand on my shoulder he ushered me across the corridor, and then he pressed my back against the lockers, bracketing me with his arms. “Dee was in there, wasn’t she?”
“If you wanted Dee, why didn’t you say so?” I somewhat recoiled from his profound gaze. He stopped me from leaving, his fingers manacling my upper arms. I looked back into his sorry face. “Don’t you want me to get Dee?”
“No.” His fingers sprang from my arms and scratched the nape of his neck as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
“I spoke to Jesse,” he said.
“Oh, this is about Jesse?”
“No and yes.”
Even with the purple swellings, his eyes were riveting. Now, I was confused. The homeroom bell was going to ring any minute, he needed to get to the point.
“You should talk to him.”
“Jesse? You want me to talk to Jesse?”
“He needs to hear it from you.”
His brows gathered—either he was hurting, or it was something else altogether.
“What does Jesse need to hear from me?” I was wholly in the dark, and Michael’s closeness flustered me.
“Mary,” he sighed my name so sweetly. “Jesse’s not well. You shouldn’t play with him like you are.”
This had nothing to do with Michael’s affection for me. It was about hooking me up with that pothead. His height thwarted my attempt to look anywhere but at him.
Dipping my hands into my pockets, I parroted, “Play with him? I hardly know the guy. We’re not actual friends. And I never encouraged or flirted with him. Never.”
Again, Michael bracketed me with his arms, angling his body over me. “So you don’t want to go out with him?”
I shook my head.
“Then why’d you go over to his house last night?”
“What?” My hands flew from my pockets to fold over chest.
“He said you were with him. In his basement.” A fetching pink touched his cheeks, mixing with the discolorations on his skin.
“He did call,” I replied. “And he couldn’t put two words together. I was worried about him. But I didn’t go to his house. I don’t even know where he lives.”
Relief softened his eyes, and the lines between his brows vanished. He pushed off the wall, creating a space for me to see my hovering friends. He slid a hand into his jean pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. “My phone number. Call me if you need me.” He placed the paper on my palm and rolled my fingers over it. “Come to football practice after school. Jesse will be there. You need to talk to him.”
“I’ll miss my bus, and Steve’s not here to drive me home anymore.”
He speared his fingers into his mane of hair, pulling it from his face, which had exposed more abrasions on his forehead and temple. “I’ll drive you home,” he offered, and then he swerved to meet the piercing eyes of Dee, Candy, and Gwen. “Hello, girls.” He tipped his head and ambled away leaving me to deal with them.
The expression on Dee’s face would’ve halted a bull.
“He asked me to talk to Jesse.” I instilled my denial of deception, y
et I felt deceitful. My heart belonged to Michael, and Dee was a provocative obstacle.
“Jesse?” Dee’s gaze went from murderous to dubious.
“Yeah.” I noticed Candy had the books I’d left balancing on a sink on top of hers. “I guess Michael arranged for me to speak to him after school.” I unburdened my books from her arms.
“What about?”
“We all know how obsessed Jesse is with Mary.” Dee rearranged her stack of books to her other arm. “Is this the big blow off, or are you finally going to go out with him?”
Before clarifying my feelings, a clanging bell sent us scrambling for our assigned homerooms.
When I had a chance between classes, I phoned Mom at work and explained about staying after for additional calculus tutoring. She wasn’t pleased since dinner would be late getting on the table without my preparations.
Oh, well.
Bleak clouds scudded across the sky and blocked the sun as a squalling wind nearly knocked me off my feet. Michael had practically ordered me to the football field, and I hadn’t calibrated or formulated a story for Jesse. I guess I’d have to wing it and go with the flow. But I definitely wasn’t buckling under and going out with the guy. I hugged my books to my chest, walking with my head down until I reached the bleachers.
The inclement weather had kept spectators at bay, and Jesse wasn’t there. Making my way to the middle, I sat on the bottom bench. The wind circled my head, and I raised the collar of my coat and cowered into its shell.
What astounded me was number twelve, Michael, was suited in his jersey. Clearly, Coach Sidney didn’t have knowledge of his underlying injuries. I watched him jog onto the field, and by his lumbering gait, I could tell he wasn’t healed. I’d been so absorbed with watching him that I didn’t hear Jesse sneaking up on me.
“Hey, babe. You wanted to see me?” He was standing, gazing down at me with his puppy eyes.
“Hi, Jesse. How are you?”
“I’ll feel better in a minute.” His corduroy jacket was flapping in the wind like a pair of wings. Rifling in his flannel shirt pocket, he produced a pill.
Incense and Peppermints Page 15