I put my hand on his leg. “I know. I know. Calm down.”
“I won’t calm down! Are you gonna get drunk like Dad?”
I went silent for a long moment. I hadn’t gotten drunk for months, but right then the thought glimmered before my eyes, tempting me. I could forget this whole mess. Forget my whole life.
“Tiff!” His voice was sharp.
I jerked. “No. Of course not. I’m not going to get drunk. Geez, Denny. You worry too much.”
He collapsed back onto his pillow, as if suddenly out of breath. I scooted the bread and peanut butter to the side and lay down beside him.
“It’ll be okay, Denny. I promise. Everything will be fine. Dad will wake up and not be drunk anymore. We’ll go to school. Everything will be fine.”
“I don’t see how.” His voice was so low, I barely heard him.
I nuzzled his neck and started humming. Humming!
I don’t know who was more surprised, Denny or me.
****
I left Denny’s room around ten o’clock after he finally fell asleep. I crept out into the shadowed hallway with the jar of peanut butter, the bread, and the knife. I didn’t take them downstairs. I knew if I saw Dad again that night, I’d lose it. And it wouldn’t be quiet. Denny didn’t need any more drama.
I almost called Courtney but decided against it. I’d talked to her a couple days before and had told her to quit worrying. She didn’t need to know the latest. I’d get rid of Dad myself. I crawled into my messy bed with a sigh. I was too tired to figure it out that night. Something would come to me — it always did.
The next morning, my cell alarm shrilled me awake. When I reached over to punch it off, Denny was standing next to my bed, hovering like an owl.
I yelped and tried to jump up, but my legs were twisted in the sheets. “Denny! Are you nuts? You scared me!”
“Sorry.”
“What are you doing?”
“Dad’s still on the couch.”
“You already went down?”
“Not all the way. I wanted to see if he was still there.”
“Where’d you expect him to be?”
He shrugged and sat on the edge of my bed. “I thought maybe he left.”
I squirmed from the covers and got out of bed. I only wore my undies and the shirt from the day before. The cool morning air hit my legs, raising goose bumps.
“You could wear pajamas,” Denny said, averting his eyes.
“Yeah. Me in pajamas. That’d be about right.”
“Well, you don’t have to walk around naked.”
I grabbed a pair of sweatpants from a heap next to my bed and wiggled into them. “You’re in a mood.”
“Sorry.”
“Have you showered yet?”
“No.”
“Get in there. You can go first today.”
“I showered yesterday.”
I gave him a playful shove. “Right. A middle-school guy who doesn’t shower. There’s a stink fest waiting to happen.”
When he snickered, my heart lifted and I gave myself a mental pat on the back.
He dragged himself off the bed. “Okay.” He paused. “Are we gonna eat breakfast downstairs?”
I pulled back my curtains and peered out to see the sun’s rays shooting up through fluffy clouds on the horizon. The evergreens across the street looked like they were sitting in halos. No rain in sight.
I turned back to Denny. “Of course we’re eating downstairs. Where else? Plus I have to fix our lunches.”
“But he’s down there.”
“I’m aware.”
“We ate dinner in my room.”
“I know, but we’re eating breakfast downstairs. Hurry up and get in the shower.”
He slogged out the door like he was wading through knee-deep mud.
I checked the clock. We were going to be late. I smiled. Perfect excuse to take the car. I for sure wasn’t going to leave it around for that drunken dolt downstairs.
Barely five minutes passed before Denny hollered down the hall, “Your turn.”
I shook my head. There was no way he took a decent shower in that bit of time. I grabbed the only pair of clean panties I could find. I snagged my bra and a semi-wrinkled T-shirt from the top of my dresser and went down the hall. Denny’s door was open, and he was already half-dressed.
“Wait for me,” I said. “Don’t go down until I’m ready.”
He glanced up at me, and the innocence in his expression squeezed my throat. I swallowed hard and got into the shower.
Chapter Ten
Denny and I both snaked down the stairs as if afraid to wake a dragon. Halfway down, I realized what I was doing. Ridiculous.
“What do you want for breakfast, Denny?” I asked loud enough to be heard on Main Street.
His eyes bugged, and he slapped my arm. “Be quiet, Tiff.”
“Can’t do that,” I said with the same volume. “How about toasted oats?”
Dad’s eyes were closed, but he grunted and shifted on the couch. Denny and I headed straight to the kitchen. “Get the bowls and milk,” I said. “I’ll start the sandwiches.”
I remembered I’d left the peanut butter upstairs. “I’ll be right back.”
When I walked through the living room, Dad had raised himself into a semi-sitting position. He stared at me through puffy eyes. I ignored him and took the stairs two at a time. When I returned, he hadn’t moved.
Denny had the cereal ready and was eating, standing hunched over the counter.
“Go to the table. You don’t have to eat in here.”
“He’s in there.”
“Big deal. Come on.” I snatched up my bowl, slopping milk over the side. It dribbled down my hand in a cold stream.
I yanked out my chair and sat. Denny tiptoed in, keeping his gaze away from the living room.
“Morning,” Dad said. He coughed and rose from the couch. His legs wobbled, and he stood still for a moment, as if regaining his balance.
Neither Denny nor I answered.
“Breakfast already?” He took two shaky steps toward the table.
“You were drunk last night.” The words shot from Denny’s mouth. I looked at him in surprise.
Dad stopped and ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. “Nooo.” He drug the word out. “Just had a few beers is all.”
“More than a few.” Denny’s voice was hard.
Dad shook his head. “No, son. Only a few beers.”
“And I’m not your son!”
Whoa. This was getting interesting.
Dad’s eyebrows scrunched, coming down over his eyes like a shelf. “What? What d’you mean?” He rubbed his chin again, and it sounded like a cat scratching a screen door.
“Nothing.” Denny got up and stomped into the kitchen. I heard his bowl hit the sink.
I swallowed my mouthful of cereal and stood. I stepped close to Dad, and the smell of booze and dirty clothes made my nose go numb. “Get out. Today. I don’t care where you go, but when we get back, be gone.”
Dad flinched as if struck. His gaze latched onto mine. “I got nowhere to go.”
“That’s your problem.” I marched into the kitchen and threw my bowl into the sink on top of Denny’s. Denny stood in the middle of the room, frozen. Tears swirled in his eyes, ready to spill.
I reached over to open the tin cookie can and grabbed a five dollar bill, thrusting it into his hand. “Here. You’re buying lunch today.”
He stared at the money like he didn’t recognize it. I grabbed his arm and gave him an abrupt shake. “Denny. Move. Brush your teeth and meet me by the door. I’m driving you to school.”
He did move then, and like a robot, trudged up the stairs. I threw two pieces of bread and a banana into a sack. We couldn’t afford for both of us to buy lunch.
Dad had gone to stand by the table. “I got nowhere to go,” he repeated and eyed the cookie can. “How much is in there?”
I glared at him then turned back to the
can, again prying off the lid. I snatched the last few wadded-up bills and thrust them into my pocket. I picked up the can and shook it upside down. “What a shame. Not a cent left.” I pushed around him and went to the bottom of the stairs.
“Denny, hurry up. And don’t forget your backpack.”
Dad cough-choked, sputtering into his hand. “Tiffany, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
I walked to the front door and touched the knob. “You’re right about that because you’re leaving.”
The pleading look on his face was pathetic. A flicker of sympathy wisped through my heart, but I stomped it down. He had to go. Simple as that.
Denny didn’t deserve this.
And I could take care of the both of us just fine. No matter what Courtney said.
****
Serena was leaning against the far wall of the entry way when I got to school. Her purple hair was wound around her head in a funky braid.
“You look like Heidi from the Alps,” I greeted her, snickering.
She fingered the hairclips fastened sloppily across the front. “You like?”
“Why yes, fräulein.”
She slugged me. “Very funny. Think I should take it down?”
I rested my finger on my puckered lips and surveyed her. “Depends on what you’re going for.”
“What am I ever going for? I have no clue.”
“Ah, leave it up. It’ll give everybody something to talk about.”
“You mean besides Fresh Meat’s murder?”
I gazed around at the clusters of students pushing through into the halls. Loud bursts of laughter erupted from some of them. Others were zombies, with vacant eyes, walking as if programmed. Some faces were scrunched with stress. A faint aroma of cleanser filled the air, and one overhead light flickered wildly, ready to pop and leak black florescent gunk that would stink up the area in two seconds flat.
Nobody seemed to care. I craned my neck a bit, checking to see if Fresh Meat was anywhere around.
Serena and I fell into step, heading for my locker. “How come you beat me to school today? Eager to show off your hair?”
She leaned close. “Thought there might be some entertainment this morning. Were you online last night? Fresh Meat’s murder is gaining ground.” She glanced around. “Where is he, by the way?”
“How should I know?”
“I figured you would know since you’re practically his girlfriend.”
I stopped short and cut her a look. “No. I’m not. Never have been.”
She grimaced and shook her head, loosening one of the crooked clips until it rested just above her eyebrow. “Won’t you finally admit it? You’re in love with the guy.”
Without wanting to, I took in her words and they rumbled all the way down to my feet. I straightened my shoulders and changed the subject.
“Dad came home drunk.”
Serena slapped my arm. “Get out.”
“I’m serious.”
Her eyes went wide. I knew she felt for me, but couldn’t she suppress her excitement over my life being such a train wreck?
“No way. What’d you do?”
“Left him to rot on the couch for the night.”
“And this morning?”
“Told him to leave.”
“No way.”
“Yes, way. Denny’s had enough to deal with.”
“Did Denny see him?”
“Of course he saw him. Our condo is as big as a gym bag.”
We arrived at my locker. I twirled the lock and yanked it open. “You bring anything good for lunch?”
She held up her purse. “Buying today. Why? You need food?”
“Maybe.”
She grabbed my arm. “There he is. Don’t look. Coming down the hall straight toward us.”
I stiffened then forcibly relaxed and dug in my locker until I located my chemistry book.
“Hey, Jason,” Serena said.
His boots stopped beside me. They were scuffed and frayed a bit at the toe, but the heels were solid. Even looking at his boots, my blood raced and heat surged to my face.
I kept digging in the garbage heap at the bottom of my locker, even though I didn’t need anything else.
He squatted, and his musk cologne fluttered over me. If I didn’t escape right then, I’d end up drooling. I jerked up and saw that Serena had left. Fresh Meat stood beside me, his gaze probing mine.
“It wasn’t you,” he said.
I stared back.
“Spreading the rumor,” he continued.
“There’s a news flash.” My voice was tight, and with pure grit, I wiped every ounce of expression from my face.
“I’m apologizing.” His eyes narrowed, and he took a small movement backward.
“And what exactly caused your revelation?”
“It was the guys from PE.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know, okay? You going to forgive me or what?”
“Not sure.”
His eyebrows furrowed, and I could tell he wasn’t expecting that answer. What had he thought? That I’d thank him for apologizing? That I’d fall all over him with relief?
We held each other’s gaze a moment longer. I felt the stares of people passing us in the hall. More than one clump of girls stopped giggling and flat-out gawked.
I’d be the next juicy bit of gossip.
Not for the first time.
Fresh Meat stepped further back and sighed. “Fine. I tried.”
He turned and sauntered off like there were hours before class instead of a minute or two. I watched the muscles of his back press out from his tight-fitting T-shirt. They rippled with every step he took. My eyes traveled down his body. How could someone accused of murder act so sure and confident? It didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense.
And then, driven by some internal homing device, I ran down the hall after him. As if sensing me, he stopped and turned, and I nearly smacked right into him.
“All right,” I said, staring into his gray eyes.
“All right?” He raised an eyebrow, and then an expression of pleasure covered his face.
I smiled, pivoted on my heel, and headed back toward chemistry. I heard him laugh, and my smile grew wider.
But I didn’t turn around.
****
The middle school kids poured out of the school hyped and cheering. Must have been the after effects of a pep rally or something. I waited in the line of cars until Denny emerged wearing a mile-deep scowl.
I honked the horn, which earned me an ugly look from the parking lot aide. Denny slid into the front seat and dropped his backpack on the floor. He kicked at it with his wet shoes until it was smashed into a canvas lump.
“Nice day, huh?”
He growled and turned his head to stare out the window.
“Lots of homework?”
Another growl.
“Want to go out to eat?”
That grabbed his attention. “What? Where?”
I shrugged and drove out of the parking lot. “I don’t know. We could grab a burger somewhere.”
“You got money?”
“I have a few dollars. They’ve got a two for one special at Surf’s Up.”
Denny shrank down in the seat and pulled his knees to his chest. “What about Dad?”
“What about him?”
“He’ll be hungry.”
“Dad isn’t staying.” I braced myself for his reaction.
He wiggled up straight and put his legs back down. “What?”
“He’s leaving. It’s just gonna be you and me, mister.”
“What? How do you know?”
Surf’s Up was ahead. I put on my blinker and drove into the lot. “You want to do drive-through or do you want to go in?”
“Tiff, how do you know? Did you call him?”
I parked and got out. Denny threw open his door, jumped out, and looked at me over the roof of the car. “Tiffany! Tell me.”
�
�Shut your door, and let’s go in. We’ll talk inside.”
I approached the restaurant and pulled open the wooden door with its anchor and rope knob. Inside, welcome heat blasted over us. Seemed like I was never warm enough, which Courtney blamed on me being too skinny.
Denny pushed at me from behind. “Tell me.”
“Could you give me two minutes, please? Geez, Denny.” I walked to the counter and ordered two burgers and two sodas. From my pocket, I peeled the wadded up dollars I’d snatched from the cookie can. There went the rest of our money for the week.
At the booth in the back corner, Denny was perched on the edge of a red vinyl bench. His eyes were shadowed, and he looked ready to attack. I slid the food tray onto the varnished table. “Eat up, my man.”
He made no move to take the food, only crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
“Okay. I told Dad to leave.” I unwrapped the burger and the crinkle of paper echoed through the empty restaurant.
Denny grabbed my wrist. “You what?”
“He came home drunk, Denny. We don’t need him. I told him to get out and never come back.”
Denny sank back into the bench and lowered his eyes to the table. I took a bite of burger but had trouble swallowing it over the growing lump in my throat. I watched Denny and could almost see his brain working. I unwrapped a straw and stuck it through the punched-out hole in the cup. I fingered it, waiting for Denny to say something.
His brown eyes were moist when he raised them to mine. “What’d he say?”
“He said okay. He wanted to go back to Chicago anyway.” The lump in my throat was now a full-sized baseball.
Denny’s forehead collapsed into a mass of wrinkles. “He did?”
I took a long breath. His hurt bore through me. “No.”
He leaned over the table. “You’re not making sense. What do you mean?”
I flopped against the back of the bench. “Okay, fine. I told him to get lost, and he said he didn’t have anywhere to go. But we don’t need him, Denny. We don’t need him.”
Denny’s shoulders went stiff, and his eyes sparked accusation. “You’ve always hated him. Hated him! You never gave him a chance.” He sprang from the bench, and his look of hatred pierced me. “I’m going home.”
I jumped up and ran after him. “Denny, stop. At least eat your food. Come on, don’t be mad.”
The Return: Death, Runaways, and Romance (Ocean Mist Book 3) Page 11