“I can hear the wrapper crinkling. You know better.” Skully handed him a fun-sized diabetic granola bar from her bag. “Eat this and shut up.”
“This would be better if it had chocolate chips. You know, I would eat myself if I were chocolate,” he said with his mouth full.
“Then you’d be dead.”
I took another swig of the flat Coke that Skully bought for me. She always paid for everything on her debit card. Yet another reason to feel like a complete asshole.
“You remind me of the long-haired dude in that surfer movie,” Sebastian said.
“Is that a good thing?”
Skully glanced around the table. “He does, right? Look. He’s turning red.”
Just hearing the phrase, “He’s turning red,” took me back to the cafeteria in seventh grade. I listened to the girls laughing, and I got nervous all over again, staring into the grease stains on my paper plate. Maybe hanging with girls had its drawbacks.
“My homeroom teacher is a girl,” said Sebastian, “which is good because the boy teachers are mean. But she always gets my name wrong. I’m like, you’re a teacher. Sound it out,” he said. “But it’s okay. I like older women.”
“Good for you!” Morgan thumped the table. Then she moved onto another topic: My ex-girlfriend.
“Was your ex pretty?” she wanted to know.
“Can we talk about something else?” I asked. Having an ex was another lie I told to fit in.
“Look at his face. He’s still in love with her,” Skully said.
I studied my napkin.
Later, the girls filed into the bathroom, as if they were having a conference in there. Who knows? Maybe they were.
Skully’s brother stayed behind, and we headed for the car after I finished my flat, watered-down Coke. As we walked through the deserted parking lot, he said, “I think Morgan is into you.”
This is how low I’d stooped. I was getting advice from a thirteen-year-old.
“We’re just friends,” I said.
It was true. Why would a cool girl like Morgan be interested in me? I might catch her eye for a while, but it was all fake, so it wouldn’t last long. She’d get bored. This was exactly where I always got stuck, doomed to the friend zone. My sister would probably have an opinion about it … like she did about everything. I never thought I would miss her so much. Or Mom, who started crying every time I called now. So I just stopped calling.
I pulled out my cell and sent Haylie a text message:
OLA KALA?
Minutes passed. Nice. Haylie was ignoring me, just like Collin as soon as he escaped to his fancy college.
I was shivering as I walked to the car. Skully was already in the driver’s seat, honking the horn. I took my time. The night air felt cooler than I could remember, and it was beginning to rain. But it was a good kind of cold. It let me know I was still alive.
“Aaron. Wait up.”
I turned. There was Morgan, clip-clopping after me in her wooden flip-flops. She stopped in the middle of the parking lot, kicked them off, and carried them in both hands.
Then she gave me a hug—a genuine embrace, not one of those fake half ones. I felt like there was more to say, but never enough time. Or it was never the right time.
I looked at her bare feet, at her painted toenails.
“Hop in,” I said, opening the door.
Morgan slid next to me in the backseat. Her knees bumped against mine. Neither of us said anything.
In the passenger seat up front, Sebastian twisted around. “No funny business.”
“Shut up,” his sister said.
Driving along US-1, Skully rolled down the window. I dangled my hand until the tips of my fingers turned numb. Nothing to hear except the tires rolling forward and a deep, still quiet of the air rushing by.
I leaned back and listened.
21 : Fumble
As we pulled up to Skully’s house, all the lights winked out. The rain had picked up speed, and it looked like the entire neighborhood had lost electricity, judging by the curtain of blackness around the block.
“How long before the power comes back?” I asked.
Skully hunted for her keys, dripping and swearing. “Damn it. I can’t even find the door knob.”
Only a month ago, Morgan was showing me around the house. Now I was clutching her damp hand and pulling her into the living room. We bumped into chairs and stumbled over the carpet. Rain drummed the roof, never slowing.
Everyone went to Skully’s room to watch a movie on her laptop, but Morgan said she didn’t feel like it.
“I’m all sweaty,” she said.
I had already peeled off my T-shirt. The house was sweltering without the AC. Plus it was so quiet, I could hear my heart thudding away.
“I’ve got an idea,” Morgan told me. “Let’s go swimming.”
“In a rainstorm?”
“It’s not like it’s thundering or anything. Come on, you wuss. Are you scared?”
“No,” I said. It wasn’t the rain that was making me nervous.
“You are totally scared! I can tell,” she said.
Morgan squealed and ran down the stairs. I followed after her. When we reached the patio door, she flung it open. Both of us stood in the rain, completely soaked. Morgan stuck out her tongue, as if catching snowflakes. I wondered if she’d ever seen snow.
I watched, dumbfounded, as she tugged off her blouse. It was dark, but I could see her milk-white skin, which almost seemed to glow. She began to wiggle out of her jeans.
“It’s weird if you watch me do this,” she said.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Turn around. And no peeking.”
“I’m not.”
At last, she said, “Okay, I’m ready.”
She was just in a bra and panties, which isn’t that different from a bikini. Yet somehow, it is. Her thighs were etched with tiny scars. It hurt to look at them.
“Now you,” she said.
Morgan watched me unbuckle my pants and drop them to the ground. I kicked them across the patio.
“That was dramatic,” she said.
She laced her fingers through mine. We took off, jogging toward the deep end. At the last minute, she let go. I plunged in, feet-first, and sank to the bottom, where I looked up at the raindrops dotting the surface of the pool like Braille. Then I paddled my way to the ladder and pulled myself out.
“Shit,” I said.
“What’s up?” Morgan asked.
“I lost one of my contacts.” No use keeping the other one, so I pinched it out, too.
“I didn’t know you wore contacts,” she said. “You should just get Lasik or something.”
“A laser beam in my eye? No thanks,” I said, blinking at the trees. At least, they looked like trees. “Why aren’t you jumping in? You tricked me,” I told Morgan.
She giggled. “What are you going to do about it?”
“This,” I said, lunging toward her. She ran, but I was too fast. I locked my arms around her waist and we fell backward into the water. Morgan flailed against me, scissoring her legs. We rose up, sputtering. Her hair was plastered against her face. I smoothed it away and kissed her lips, tasting salt. My hands slid over her thighs. Morgan pulled away. She swam to the edge and clung there, never taking her eyes off me.
“You’re evil,” she said, gasping.
I stood near the pool steps, the rain spilling on me. I had no idea what to say to this girl.
“I told you not to watch me,” she said.
“What am I supposed to look at? You’re the one who wanted to go swimming.”
“I know,” she said, lowering her head. That’s when I figured it out.
“Are you afraid that I’m g
oing to see your scars?” I asked.
Morgan nodded. A surge of guilt washed over me.
“Well, I can’t see much of anything right now. And besides, I don’t care. You’re hot, Morgan. Don’t you know that?”
“You need glasses,” she said.
“No, I don’t. I mean, I do. But that’s not the point.”
“I’m not cutting anymore.”
She was lying.
“Listen,” I said. “That day on the football field, I saw you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
Morgan rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “Sometimes I just need to … I can’t explain. It’s like a release, you know?”
I didn’t know.
“Sure,” I said. What else could I say?
“Don’t judge me,” she said.
“I’m not.”
The wind kicked up, swirling leaves across the patio and flinging the rain sideways. I felt cold all of a sudden.
Morgan shivered. “Let’s get out of here.”
We left the pool and headed inside, dripping across the tile floor. It was pitch-dark in the house. I couldn’t see where I was going. After a minute, my eyes adjusted, but nothing came into focus. I stumbled upstairs, and Morgan lagged behind.
I unfolded the hide-a-bed, tugged back the sheets, and climbed in. When I finally looked up, Morgan was standing there, naked. She climbed under the covers with me.
I didn’t know what to do. How was I supposed to explain that I’d only had one girlfriend and we “dated” over the computer? It was pathetic, once you thought about it.
“Morgan,” I whispered. “You can’t stay here.”
She scooted closer.
“Morgan,” I said again.
“That’s my name. Don’t wear it out.”
I couldn’t help laughing. “You’re something else. You know that?”
She shivered. “Right now, I’m freezing.”
I wrapped the blanket tighter around us. Morgan nuzzled her face against mine. We were kissing again and her hands were sliding around.
“I can’t do this,” I told her.
She blinked at me. “You don’t want to?”
“God. What do you think? Of course, I do. But it’s just … ”
“Just what?”
I could’ve told her the truth. I’ve never done this before. What difference would it make?
Morgan cried silently, her entire body shaking. “Be honest. You think I’m ugly.”
“Stop it. Listen to me. You’re not ugly, okay? Far from it.”
“I can take a hint,” she said, turning away from me.
I yanked back the covers. Morgan didn’t move. Her scars were faint crosses rippling along her thighs. I moved my hands over them, tracing the raised surface of her skin.
“Believe me,” I said.
Morgan pressed closer. It felt as if we were sinking underwater, drifting in slow-motion. I wanted to know if she cried when her stepmom punished her for writing with her left hand. I wondered what songs pumped through her headphones on the day we met, and did it hurt, the first time she dragged that piece of metal across her thigh, or did she learn to stop hurting, stop feeling anything at all. I knew that sex was supposed to be a big deal, but afterwards, we just lay there, barely touching.
That was the saddest part.
22 : Close Your Eyes
It was too dark to see. No telling the time. Morgan snored with her head buried under the blanket. I wondered how she could breathe.
The door banged open, and Skully barged into the room. Her boots clicked across the floor. “You should see the backyard. A tree fell in the pool. Get up. I want to show you.”
I shoved my face deeper into the pillow. Skully could be so evil sometimes.
She tickled my ear. “Did I disturb your peaceful slumber?”
“No,” I mumbled.
“You can go back to sleep now.”
“I’m not sleeping.”
“So get up,” she said.
“Give me a minute.”
“Are you butt naked under there or what?” She tugged the blanket. It slipped out of my fingers. I scrambled for it, but she pulled it off the bed with a flourish. Her smile faded when she saw Morgan curled next to me, in nothing but her birthday suit.
“Oops,” Skully said.
Morgan covered her eyes, as if that could make the room magically disappear. “Skully,” she said. “Could you exit, stage left?”
“Sure thing.”
“Like, right now?”
“You got it.” She tripped over the blanket on the way out.
I groaned. “That did not just happen.”
“Unfortunately, it did,” Morgan said. “I saw everything … with my eyes closed.”
“You realize that she’s going to blab about this to everybody,” I said, jerking the covers back on the bed. I draped it over us like a tent. We huddled under it like little kids in a fort.
“Are you embarrassed?” Morgan whispered.
I couldn’t stop looking at her. “About what?”
“Do I have to spell it out?”
I leaned in for a kiss, but she moved away.
“You can do magic, right? Well, make my scars disappear,” she said.
I shook my head. “Don’t start this again.”
“You’re totally going to ignore me now, aren’t you? I’ll see you at school, and you’ll pretend I don’t exist.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“I don’t know.”
“It sucks that you think so little of me. I mean, do you really think that I would just ditch you?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I’m not like Brent or those other guys, okay?” I said. It sounded like a cheesy pickup line. “Just hear me out. I want you to know that last night was amazing.”
“Then why aren’t you smiling?” she asked.
“Look. There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t tell you.”
She frowned. “You’re seeing somebody else.”
“I’m not a player, if that’s what you mean.”
“Then what’s so important that you can’t talk about it?”
I kept my mouth shut.
She curled onto her side, away from me. “Brent was right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He said you were fake.”
Crap.
“What exactly did he say?”
“That you’ve been lying about a lot of things. He thinks you’re just using people.”
“And you believe him?”
Morgan did that cute thing, blowing her bangs off her forehead. “Maybe,” she said.
I opened my mouth, but she was on a roll.
“Why were you living in that shitty apartment with your mom? Are you in trouble? Did you do something bad? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I want to. You have no idea.”
“Why can’t you just tell me?”
“Because it could hurt you,” I blurted out.
Morgan started to sob. “So it’s true … what Brent and all those people are saying.” She cried harder. Her shoulders heaved. I put my arm around her but she pushed me away.
“Listen. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. I wanted to tell you, but it was never the right time. It wasn’t even my idea.”
She wiped her face. “What are you talking about?’”
I’d blown it.
“You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?” I asked slowly.
“What did you think I meant? All that stuff people said about you being a player?”
“A player?” I shook my head. “I’ve never even had sex until last night.”
“Right. I’m supposed to believe that? How can I believe anything you say?”
“It’s true,” I said. “I’ve never even had a real girlfriend.”
“Is there something else I should know? Those rumors about you … ” She trailed off.
“Morgan, listen to me.”
She was listening. And she already knew.
No use hiding anymore. I was sick of it. Sick of hiding, sneaking around, observing from a distance. Sick of keeping my mouth shut. For once, I opened it. This is what came out:
“I’m telling you the truth now, Morgan,” I heard myself say. “I’m a narc. Do you understand what this means?”
She bit her lower lip. “Please tell me that this is a joke.”
“I’ve been working undercover for the Miami Dade narcotics unit … ”
“No,” she said. “This is not happening.”
“ … and I’m supposed to find who’s supplying to Palm Hammock.”
Morgan stared at me, as if she could see through my skin, my bones, every molecule in my body.
“So tell me, Aaron—or whatever your name is—what’s it like, working for the police?”
“It’s not what you think,” I said. “It was forced into it, you know? But now … I’m not sure what I’m doing.”
“Well, maybe you can explain it to me.”
“Listen. I really care about you. And Skully. Now that I’ve gotten to know you guys, I don’t want to go through with this.”
“But that’s not going to stop you, is it?” she asked.
“I didn’t want things to blow up like this. I didn’t even send that invitation online. I don’t know who e-mailed it to me. I told the lead officer that the alpha dog would be there.”
“The what?”
“The guy who calls the shots. In this case, Finch. He’s the one they want.”
“Finch? What did he ever do to you? He’s the sweetest guy on the planet.”
“Right. The guy’s got a dope farm in his garden shed.”
“How do you know?”
“He and his dad were showing it off. But I can’t figure him out. I think he’s been trying to turn people against me. Remember that picture from Skully’s party that got sent to the entire school?”
Narc Page 15