“I don’t think so,” Josh said. “But now that he’s a disciple, it’s serious business to them. Mira’s getting really fanatical now too. She’ll do anything the Teacher asks her to. Even spy on your dad. They’re all working on his mind, telling him they’re the only ones who care about him.”
“But he’s asking for help,” I said. “Maybe the brainwashing isn’t working.”
Josh shrugged. “I don’t know.…The message might not be what you think. Maybe he’s trying to say he’s sorry.”
I pulled myself up, shrugging off Josh when a wave of dizziness came over me and grabbing the windowsill for support instead. Josh might be right. My memories could be mixed up somehow.
“I have to find out what he wants,” I said. “How can I get inside?”
“I don’t see how,” he said.
“Maybe Krista could go to a Friday Mixer with you,” I said.
“With purple hair and those clothes?”
I took the cold pack off my face so he could see the angry, red welt. “Come on, Josh…please…It’s the least you could do.”
“Dammit, Jamie. Don’t look at me like that.”
He crossed his arms like I’d seen him do so many times when Derrick wanted him to do something he didn’t want to, like go to an extra church meeting. He always gave in to his brother, so I waited, not taking my eyes off of him.
Finally he said, “Oh, all right. But not Krista. I could maybe take Megan to a dance.”
“Rafferty?” I asked.
“She’s in drama with you, right?” he said. “And isn’t she your friend Liz’s little sister?”
“Well, yeah, but do you even know her?”
Not too many seniors were aware of the freshman girls unless they were super hot. Megan looked pretty much like Liz; tall, skinny, flat-chested, and always wore her hair in a bun.
“She’s in my chemistry class,” he explained. “And Derrick won’t connect her to you.”
“That would be great, Josh,” I said. “Liz can go along as the chaperone.”
The church loved old-fashioned ideas like a sibling as a chaperone, and even though Liz was one of my best friends, Derrick would probably buy the idea.
“This is strictly to find out what your dad wanted to tell you,” Josh said. “No heroic rescues that get me kicked out, because my father will never let me see Mom or Derrick again, and they need me.”
This time, I was the one who reached out and touched him. But it was just my hand on his arm…like a friend, not a girlfriend. “You can trust Megan and Liz,” I said. “I promise.”
chapter 26
DAD HAD NEVER LET ME STAY OVERNIGHT WITH FRIENDS on school nights, but since I was in charge of my own life, Krista and I went home with Liz. We needed to figure out what she and Megan would wear to the Mixer.
Liz waved away the matching yellow bridesmaid dresses Krista had chosen for them. “I’m not wearing that rag,” she said for the third time.
“I will,” Megan said.
“Suck-up,” Liz said. “Don’t you remember, they’re super itchy and they gave us both rashes during Lydia’s wedding reception?”
“It’s one night,” Megan said. “If that’s what Krista thinks we should wear, then we should. She’s the expert.”
We’d pitched the whole idea of the dance to Megan like it was an acting gig, and she’d jumped all over it. We gave her a role to play—the demure, innocent date. We couldn’t figure out any way to keep the reason she was going along a secret, so we had told her pretty much everything about my dad, Josh, and the church, but we knew we could trust her. For the most part, she was just Liz’s little sister, but I had known her since she was five years old, and we’d danced the Nutcracker together every year since then, so we did have a bond.
“Those are perfect for the R&R,” I said, agreeing with Krista. “I swear, all the girls there will be dressed the same way.”
“Like extras on Little House on the Prairie?” Liz demanded.
“Yeah,” I said. “With pantyhose and flat shoes too.”
“No way.”
I nodded. “Trust me. They’re fashion-challenged.”
Krista took one of the offending dresses and examined it. “I can remove the lace so they’re not so scratchy, and I’ll sew a cell phone pocket into Liz’s in the seam below the sash.”
Liz collapsed onto her bed in defeat. “But when are you going to do that? We need them tomorrow.”
“I’ll help,” I said.
Krista rolled her eyes at me. “You can rip out the seams.” We both knew that unless she hemmed my jeans for me, I was perfectly happy to do it with duct tape.
After school on Friday, I locked my bike up outside the motel and climbed the stairs. I was digging for my keys in the hallway, when with a big whoosh, someone flung my door open from the inside, and a voice bellowed, “Where the hell you been?”
I staggered into the room and collapsed onto my bed, clutching my chest dramatically, but my heart actually thumped hard, even though I was goofing around. “LaVon!” I said. “You seriously almost scared me to death. How’d you get in my room, anyway?”
“Stub let me in. James, you’ve been gone for—” I flinched as he reached out with a huge hand, but he simply lifted my chin to see my face better. “Who did this to you?” he growled.
“Josh, but it was an accident. I’m all right.”
LaVon let go of me. “Where you been? I go to the Klatch last night to get you, and you’re not there. Then you don’t come home. So I’m thinking you’re dead somewhere.”
“You couldn’t have been that worried,” I said, laughing at his mother-hen tone. “I was at work this morning. Why didn’t you come in to see me then?”
He glared at me for not taking him seriously. “I had a meeting with my parole officer,” he said. “Besides, I don’t have all day to check up on you, ya know? You coulda called my cell.”
I sobered up quickly. “I’m sorry. I stayed at Liz’s last night.”
He shrugged like the matter was settled. “You hungry?”
“Sure.” Krista and I had planned to order a pizza, but to make him feel better, I let LaVon take me to his room and give me a huge bowl of vegetable soup and a hunk of fresh bread with cheddar cheese.
“Nice wallpaper,” he said.
“What?” I asked, not following.
“Your list,” he said. “I saw the stuff you wrote on your wall.”
“Oh, that. Yeah, Stub’ll probably be mad. But guess what? The Olivier picture is up to eight hundred and eleven dollars and seventy-eight cents on eBay. And it doesn’t end until tomorrow.”
“You’re shittin’ me,” he said.
“I’m not. I kind of hate having it in my room now that I know someone will pay that much for it.”
LaVon shook his head in disbelief, and honestly, I kind of felt the same way. Before, when cash wasn’t an issue, it hadn’t bothered me at all that Grandpa had spent a ridiculous amount on a photo just because he knew I’d like it. But now…well…on my way home, I’d seen Vanessa and Ruby parked around the corner, and it looked like they were living in their car. Somehow, owning such an expensive photo seemed obscene when I knew a pregnant teen who had to live on the street with a toddler. I didn’t tell LaVon I’d seen her, though, because I felt embarrassed for her. Knowing him, he already knew all about it and took them regular meals anyway.
“I won’t be home tonight either,” I said, my mouth full of the yummy bread.
“Not my business anyway,” LaVon said.
“It is your business,” I argued. “You’ve been great to me, and I should’ve called.”
Over second bowls of soup, I updated LaVon about Josh and our plan for the dance.
“Be careful,” he said when I got up to leave.
“I will.”
“Keep me informed, ’kay?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll check in tomorrow if I’m not going to be back this weekend.”
LaVon took
my empty dishes from me. “Stay with your friends. You’re safer there.”
“LaVon, I really am sorry.”
“We’re cool,” he said, coming out of the bathroom with the dishes he’d washed. His face was back to that unreadable masked look he usually had. “No big deal.”
“Thanks for the soup. Thanks for everyth—”
“I gotta get to work.”
“Yeah, okay. See you.”
LaVon was a caretaker by nature, but he never was big on the thanks that goes with it. I hoped he knew how much I appreciated him, though. I rode my bike double-time all the way to Krista’s, where we were meeting to help Megan and Liz get ready for the dance. When I got there, Krista was in her room alone with her cell phone in her lap.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Shhh,” she said. “We’re testing the phones.”
Liz’s voice came through the cell. “Are you there?”
“Yeah,” Krista said. “Where are you?”
“We walked around the block,” she said. “I’m putting the phone in my pocket now. See if you can hear us talking.”
“Okay.”
Krista held her cell up between us.
“Hi, Megan,” Liz said.
“Nice dress,” Megan replied.
“Bite me,” Liz told her.
“That’s hardly church language, young lady,” Megan reprimanded in a fake-snooty voice.
There was a bit of static as Liz pulled the phone out of her pocket. “Could you hear us?”
“Yeah, pretty good,” I said.
“Okay. We’re on our way back to your house. We should leave soon so we’re not late.”
Liz’s mom had to work and her aunt had plans, so she couldn’t get a car. Krista could’ve given them a ride, but Josh said he wanted an adult to drop them off, in case anyone from the R&R was watching. Luckily, we were able to bribe Krista’s stepfather, George, with pizza and Ding Dongs. When Megan and Liz got back from their walk, we all stood around the dining room, waiting for him to finish eating.
“Why aren’t you and Jamie going too?” he asked us.
“Nothing to wear,” Krista joked.
“Shut up,” Liz said. She tugged at the collar.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” George said. “Krista’s got a whole closet full of clothes.”
“Pizza for the road?” I asked, holding the box out to him.
“Sure.” He grabbed the last slice, and the three of them took off.
Upstairs, in Krista’s room, the two of us sat on the purple beanbag chairs, her laptop positioned between us, already signed into her e-mail. I held her cell in my sweaty palm, waiting. When it finally rang, I put it on speaker.
“We’re at the church now,” Liz said. “I’m putting the phone in my pocket. Thanks for the ride, George.”
“There’s Josh,” we heard Megan say. “Hey, Josh. Over here!”
“Thanks for coming,” he said, formally.
The sound of him being so polite reminded me of how nice he was when we first dated. I actually surprised myself by feeling a tiny bit jealous when Megan said something I didn’t quite catch, and it sounded flirtatious. I made myself think of Trent’s crooked-tooth smile, which wasn’t hard to do.
Any minute, Liz and Megan would see my dad. It’d been five weeks since the wedding. How would he look? Part of me could hardly wait to find out, and the other part was really scared he’d look like one of the disciples.
“Let’s go,” Josh said.
As they went inside, their chatter was replaced with orchestral music, which drowned out almost everything. It was funny, but as stuffy and old-fashioned as the mixers were, Josh and I had kind of enjoyed them. One time, I’d taught Josh to waltz. He spun me around the floor, weaving in and out of the other couples. “One, two, three, one, two, three,” I’d coached him. “You’re pretty good.”
“Football,” he said. “We do lots of footwork drills.”
“Oh, right.”
The music coming through the phone swelled, and the babble of voices mixed together.
“I can’t hear anything,” I said.
Krista squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t worry. The plan will work anyway.”
“What plan?” I asked. “They’re just supposed to see my dad and find out if he needs my help.”
“Yeah, I know,” Krista said. “That’s what I meant.” But she started braiding a gold ribbon into her long hair and wouldn’t look at me.
“I promised Josh,” I reminded her. “Remember?”
“We know…we know. Don’t worry.”
“They’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”
“Relax and enjoy the music,” she said.
I laughed in spite of myself. An old song I recognized called “As Time Goes By” poured through the tinny speaker. “Over the phone, it sounds like that crap you hear in an elevator,” I told Krista. “But it’s a live band, and it’s actually really great.”
“Whatever,” she said. “How long do we have to suffer through it?”
I didn’t answer because she knew. We’d arranged for George to pick up Megan and Liz at ten o’clock. We sat through twenty more minutes of music and could hear murmurings, but no real conversations. Then a door opened and closed and the music faded.
Megan announced clearly, “Josh said the bathroom was out here somewhere in the lobby.”
“Did you see anyone you knew in there?” Liz asked loudly, so we could hear her.
“Just Mr. Cross.” Megan overenunciated. “You know, Jamie Lexington-Cross’s dad?”
My heart jumped, and I squeezed Krista’s hand. We both stared at her cell as if my father would magically climb right out of it. My hands trembled so badly Krista took the phone from me and laid it on the floor in front of us.
“Oh, right. Mr. Cross,” Liz said. “I haven’t seen him in ages. He looks okay, though, doesn’t he?”
“Definitely. He looked fine,” Megan said.
I knew they were trying to reassure me, and I would hug them for it later.
Hollow giggles filtered through the phone as Megan and Liz entered the bathroom. We heard them greet some other girls, and one asked if they were there with Josh.
“I am,” Megan said. “We go to school together.”
“He’s sooooo cute,” said a high-pitched, whiny voice. “You’re sooooo lucky.”
“Yeah,” Megan agreed.
A door banged and then silence.
“Anyone else in here?” Megan asked.
“Nope,” Liz said. “I checked under the stalls.”
We’d decided they shouldn’t take any chances and talk to us anywhere inside the church, so even though the bathroom was empty, Liz didn’t take out her phone. We didn’t know what kind of surveillance they might have.
“It’s really loud in the dance, so it’s hard to hear,” Megan said, “but I think tonight will be a big success.”
“Yep,” Liz said. “Oh, yeah, Josh told me the Teacher said it’s okay if I take a picture of the two of you for Mom and Dad, so I’ll do that when we go back out there. Maybe we can get a chaperone in it too.”
“She’s going to get a picture of my dad,” I said to Krista.
“But first I have to pee,” Liz told Megan.
“Oh, God, no,” Krista said.
“Please don’t,” I pleaded. “I so don’t want to hear it.”
But no matter how we begged, Liz couldn’t hear us, and pretty soon there was a light tinkling sound. Krista and I grimaced at each other. Then it got stronger and louder until it sounded like rushing water.
Over the noise, we could hear Megan and Liz practically cackling with glee.
“That’s the faucet,” Krista said, cracking up, and I laughed too.
“Gotcha,” Liz said. “Just a little comic relief.”
“Don’t admit we were so gullible,” I told Krista.
“Never,” she agreed.
For a long time we couldn’t hear much more th
an the music. I sat there, my posture as good as Liz’s always was. I must’ve checked the battery on the cell a dozen times, but Krista’s phone was new, and it was still going strong. Liz said hers usually lasted about four hours, and they had Megan’s for backup, so we would make it through the dance.
Krista unwrapped the foil on a Ding Dong and offered me half, but after all of LaVon’s chocolate lectures, I turned it down. Finally the music stopped.
“Time for a band break,” I said.
“Thank God for small favors.”
Voices bubbled through the phone’s speaker, and we caught bits and pieces of the conversation.
“Take a picture of me and Josh. Over here.…”
“Stand by that mural of the baby Jesus.…”
“Here?”
Laughter. Mumbled voices.
“Not there…next to those chaperones.…Smile!”
“. . . something to drink…”
“. . . wait here…”
“I can’t find my lip gloss,” Megan said very clearly.
“Use mine,” Liz offered, loudly.
“No way. It’ll make my lips blue.”
“My lip gloss is not blue,” Liz said. “That’s just the flavor. Blue Raspberry.”
“Oh, Blue Raspberry like the Popsicle?” Megan asked.
They’d planned to mention blue raspberry so my dad would know why they were there and to give him a chance to say something, but if he answered, I didn’t hear it because Krista shouted, “Look!” She pointed at the computer.
An e-mail had popped into the inbox. She clicked on it. In the picture, Megan held on to Josh’s arm like they were at prom together. He stared directly into the camera, not bothering to smile. Megan was as poised and ready as any actress could be, her smile demure, eyes sparkling. Standing next to her was a thin, pale man. It took me a full beat to realize it was my dad.
“Krista! He looks awful.”
“Be quiet, I want to hear what they’re saying,” she said, waving the cell at me.
“Look how skinny he is! And he’s got a beard like the Teacher!”
“Shhh.…”
“. . . blue raspberry?” whispered a voice, a man’s voice. My dad’s voice.
“Thanks, Mr. Cross,” Liz said cheerfully and loudly. And then, even though she whispered it, I clearly heard her say, “Look in your jacket pocket.”
The Right and the Real Page 19