It was Monday morning and we were standing in the school hallway. People were rushing past, voices raised, laughter ringing out, locker doors banging. I focused on Toni’s round freckled face and wished I’d never told anyone that Mark was here. Then I wouldn’t look like such an idiot. I wouldn’t have to listen to all these questions. I didn’t have any answers to give anyway. “No. She said I should forget about him.”
“Huh.” Toni was silent for a moment. “I bet he made a pass at her. You think?”
“Nah. He’s married.”
“So? Didn’t stop my dad,” Toni said bitterly.
Toni’s dad had taken off after he got reacquainted with his high-school girlfriend at a twenty-year reunion. “I don’t think so,” I said flatly. “Anyway, my mom never gets mad if someone makes a pass at her. She loves it when guys flirt with her.” I rolled my eyes. “She says it’s a compliment.”
“Speaking of which…” Toni raised her eyebrows. “What’s up with you and Jax?”
“Nothing.”
“Yeah? That’s not how it looked at Jessica’s.”
I shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t know.”
“Mmm.” Toni glanced at her watch. “Look, I should go. I told Finn I’d meet him at lunch.” She shifted from one foot to the other. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“I’m used to it,” I said, and instantly regretted it. The words had just slipped out.
“What does that mean?”
“Just that whenever Finn is around, I get dumped. Okay? That’s all.”
Toni’s eyes darkened. “That’s not fair.”
“Whatever.” I knew it wasn’t fair, but right now I didn’t care. The anger inside me felt like a living thing, something I could barely control. It wasn’t even Toni I was mad at, but that didn’t matter either.
She looked annoyed. “You don’t understand, Dylan. I mean, you’ve never even had a boyfriend.”
“Fuck you,” I said. As soon as I’d said it, my anger vanished. I wanted to snatch the words back. I didn’t think I’d ever said that before, to anyone.
Her eyes widened and she flinched as if I had tried to hit her.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say. I just stood there stupidly, like a bystander watching some other version of myself, some robot-clone gone berserk. Dylan Jarvis Version Two, maybe. DJ 2.0. My new alter ego.
Toni took off, half running down the hall. We’d never had a fight like this before. I waited to feel upset or angry, but all I felt was kind of hollow and detached.
I was still standing there, staring down the empty hall, when Jax walked up.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” I said.
“What’re you up to?”
“Nothing.” I felt oddly confident. I could look right at him, no trouble. Maybe DJ 2.0 was still in charge.
“Wanna come for a bike ride?”
“A bike ride?”
“Motorbike.” He raised one eyebrow, daring me. “Come on. Just a quick spin.”
“I’ve got class.”
He raised one eyebrow.
My heart was beating fast. “Do you have an extra helmet?”
“Of course I do.” He laughed. “What are you, Safety Girl?”
“Just checking.”
“Don’t worry,” Jax said, winking. “I always take precautions.”
I blushed. Was he talking about what I thought he was? I summoned DJ 2.0 back. Let her deal with this. “Okay,” I heard myself saying. “I’ll come for a ride.”
I was terrified for the first few minutes, convinced we were going to crash any second, imagining my body lying under a twisted heap of smoking metal, legs torn and bleeding, neck snapped, spinal cord severed. But after a while, when nothing remotely like that had happened, I began to relax. My arms were wrapped around Jax’s waist, and the engine was too loud for conversation.
To be this close to him, physically, our bodies actually touching, and yet not have to worry about talking or moving or even about making eye contact…it was perfect. I could feel my heart beating over the thrum of the motorbike’s engine. The wind was forcing tears from my eyes and chasing them across my temples and into my hair.
I could have driven all day, but eventually Jax pulled the bike off the side of the road and onto a grassy verge. He shut off the engine and I let go of him, feeling suddenly awkward.
He twisted around to face me, grinning widely. “So? What did you think?”
“I loved it,” I said. “It was incredible. I didn’t know…”
“Yeah. It’s better than anything.” He winked. “Well, almost anything.”
And I, Dylan Jarvis—shy Dylan, uptight-about-sex Dylan, never-had-a-boyfriend Dylan—just laughed. I felt like I was high.
Jax took his helmet off and shook his hair back from his face. “So what did you do for the rest of the weekend? Anything interesting?”
To my surprise, I found myself spilling the whole story. It was like running downhill. I talked faster and faster and once I got started, I couldn’t stop.
“Shit,” Jax said when I finally ran out of words. “That’s wild. So your dad’s this total mystery man. That’s wild.”
I didn’t see what was so wild about it, but I just shrugged. “I guess.”
“So why do you figure your mom won’t tell you what’s going on? Don’t you want to know?”
I thought about it for a moment. Did I really want to know? “Yeah,” I said. “Even if he’s…you know, a criminal or something…I want to know.”
“So, you gotta find out.”
I shook my head. “My mother won’t tell me. When she makes up her mind about something…”
“Yeah, your mom sounds like a bitch. Why don’t you just ask him yourself?”
Bitch. The word startled me and I felt a flicker of loyalty toward my mother, but it was almost immediately wiped out by another wave of anger. What right did Mom have to keep information from me? She was always going on about how close we were. Right. I knew which of her boyfriends had given her an STD and I knew about the time she got busted for driving drunk, but I knew next to nothing about my own father. And she’d lied to me about sending those photographs. For eight years. I wondered what else she’d lied to me about.
I’d had enough. If my mother wouldn’t tell me, maybe Mark would.
eLeven
After school, I was supposed to take Karma to the Boys and Girls Club. Mom had signed her up for another group, and I figured I could drop her off and then, if I had enough nerve, go down to the Ocean Front Hotel and see if Mark was still there. Mom thought I was having dinner at Toni’s place, so she wouldn’t worry if I was late getting home.
“The last after-school club was okay because Scott was there,” Karma told me as we got on the bus. “But the woman running this one is really annoying.”
“How come?” My hands were sweating just thinking about my plan. I pressed them against my jeans and hoped I wouldn’t lose my nerve.
Karma shrugged. “She just bugs me. She’s pretends we’re just playing games, but she’s always trying to get us to talk about stuff. About our feelings.” She made it sound like a bad word.
“Did you tell Mom you don’t want to go?”
“Duh. Course I did.” She slid into a back-row seat. “Last week I went downtown instead. That’s why Amanda made you go with me today, you know. To make sure I got there.”
“You skipped your group?” I sat down beside her, not sure whether to be impressed or concerned. Even I knew that hanging out downtown was a shortcut to all kinds of trouble for a kid her age.
She nodded. “It’s a waste of time. Anyway, I wanted to look at the bike repair stuff down at Green City Cycle.”
I laughed. “Of course you did.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” I pushed the button. “Your stop. You want me to meet you after or can you make your own way home?”
Karma didn’t budge. “What are you going to do? Are you meet
ing Toni?”
“MYOB, kiddo.”
“Dylan…tell me.” The bus pulled to a stop, but Karma didn’t budge. “Please?”
I watched a couple of passengers swipe bus passes. “If I tell you, will you get off the bus?”
“Sure.” She stood up.
An older man sat down across the aisle from us, and I lowered my voice, even though no one was listening. “I’m going to see if I can find Mark.”
Karma’s eyes widened. “As in, your father?” She sat back down. “I’m totally coming with you.”
“Karma!”
She didn’t budge. The bus driver pulled back into the flow of traffic, heading toward downtown. “Mom’s going to kill me,” I said.
“Because of me skipping group or you seeing Mark?”
“Either. Both. Take your pick.”
Karma grinned. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
“The Club will call her and you know it.” I just hoped Mark wouldn’t do the same.
“Are you mad?” Karma sounded more curious than worried.
“You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“I know.”
“No, I’m not mad.” I was actually kind of glad of the company, and now that I’d told Karma what I was doing, I was less likely to chicken out.
“I’d do the same thing, if it was my dad,” Karma said. “I wonder why Amanda made us leave like that. You think he said something that made her flip out?”
I shook my head. “No clue.”
“Maybe he wants custody or something. He’s a lawyer, right?”
“Seems a bit unlikely. I’m too old for that, don’t you think? Anyway, he hasn’t even wanted to see me until now.” What the hell was I doing? My mother would murder me if she found out. Maybe I could ask Mark not to tell her. If he was even still here. Maybe he’d gone home already. Maybe I’d never see him again. My thoughts were spiraling out of control. Polar ice melting, I told myself. South Pacific islands being slowly submerged. Tsunamis. Bee colonies collapsing. Global food shortages. It didn’t work. It didn’t put my own worries into perspective or help my panic to subside. Even if the world was on the brink of catastrophe, I still wanted to see Mark. Even if he turned out to be a drug dealer or a child molester, I still wanted to know why he had come.
We rode in silence the rest of the way, and when we finally got off the bus, my legs felt shaky. Karma slipped her small brown hand into mine, and I made a face at her as we walked toward the hotel.
“Changed your mind?” she asked.
“No. We’re here now. Anyway, I want to see him. I’m just nervous.”
“Want me to come in with you? Or should I wait out here?”
I hesitated. I could use the moral support, but what if Mark told me something I didn’t want her to hear? “Wait out here. If you don’t mind?”
She shook her head and plopped down on a sidewalk bench. “That’s okay. I’ve got a book.”
I walked up the curving driveway, through the revolving doors, and up to the reception desk. “Is Mark Wheatcroft still staying here? Can you call him and tell him Dylan is here to see him?”
The woman—round-faced and as freckled as Toni—smiled, nodded and dialed Mark’s room number. I held my breath. What if he’d already left? But the hotel staff would know that, wouldn’t they? They wouldn’t call his room if he’d checked out.
“Hello, Mr. Wheatcroft?” the woman said. “Um, Dylan is downstairs in the lobby?” She made it sound like a question.
I watched her face carefully, trying to read Mark’s response in her expression.
The woman smiled at me and smoothed her fair hair with one hand. “Have a seat. He said he’d be right down.”
“Thanks.” I wandered over to the display case that Karma had been looking at the night before and stared at the carvings. I wondered if Mark would be angry that I’d come on my own. Just forget about him, Mom had said. As if I could.
Finally the elevator doors opened and Mark stepped out.
“Dylan.” He smiled widely. “I’m so glad to see you. I knew Amanda would come around once she’d had time to think about it.” He looked around the lobby. “Where is she?”
I shook my head. “I came on my own.”
“Oh.” He looked confused. “But…she did tell you?”
My heart was pounding hard and fast. “She didn’t tell me anything.”
Mark’s face fell. “So you’re not here because…”
“I’m here because I want to know what’s going on.” My voice was shaking and my eyes were suddenly wet. I brushed the back of my hand across them quickly.
“Oh.” Mark frowned. “I should probably call your mother.”
“Don’t.”
We stared at each other for a moment. A muscle in Mark’s jaw was twitching.
I wondered if he ground his teeth like I did. I used to wear a tooth guard at night so I wouldn’t wear my teeth down to stubs. I watched him making up his mind. Finally he nodded decisively and gestured to the doors.
“Let’s go for a walk, okay? And I’ll tell you what’s going on.”
It had clouded over. The sky was a thick damp gray streaked with dirty white clouds. I could see Karma’s small figure, her back to me, still sitting on the sidewalk bench, and I wished for a second that I’d told her to come with me. Not for her sake—she never minded being alone—but for my own. I’d feel better if I was still holding her hand. I clenched my fists inside my pockets and followed Mark in the opposite direction, away from the street and along a paved path down near the harbor. A cool breeze blew off the water, and I shivered, tucking my hands into my sleeves and pulling my hoodie around myself more tightly. A harbor ferry chugged slowly toward the inner harbor. A sailboat scudded by, its canvas white against the dark green-gray of the waves.
I snuck a glance at Mark as we walked. He was wearing a long black coat over dark gray pants, and I thought about how he lived in a different world from me and Mom and Karma. A world where you didn’t have to worry about paying the rent. He and Lisa probably lived somewhere nice, in a big house they owned. I wondered what he thought about Mom cleaning houses for a living. He and Lisa probably paid someone like Mom to keep their own place clean.
“It’s beautiful here,” Mark said.
“Yeah. We’ve already covered that topic pretty thoroughly.” I knew it was rude, but if I had to make more small talk, my head was going to explode.
He sighed. “Look, I don’t know what the right thing to do is. I know you want an explanation, but I’m sure you also realize your mother is not going to be happy about this. About me talking to you.”
I waited.
“Okay. The thing is, I think you have a right to make up your own mind. If I was sure that Amanda would tell you herself, I wouldn’t say anything.”
He was trying to convince himself that he was doing the right thing, I realized. I nodded, wanting to help him along. “Sure. That makes sense.”
Mark stopped walking and turned to face me. “Dylan, what I’m about to tell you…just promise me you’ll think about it, okay? Even if you’re upset. Promise me you’ll really think about it.”
I nodded, confused. “Sure. I promise.”
He tilted his head to one side, studying me as if I was a puzzle of some kind. “My daughter, Casey,” he said slowly. “I showed you her picture last night.”
“I remember.” That big-eyed girl he’d called my half sister.
“Casey has something called acute lymphoblastic leukemia.” Mark was speaking slowly and carefully, watching my face. “It’s a blood disease—a kind of cancer of the blood cells.”
“Jeez. That’s awful. I’m sorry.” I wondered if she was dying. It wasn’t the kind of question you could ask. Besides, what if the answer was yes? I wouldn’t know what to say.
“Yes. It is awful.” He cleared his throat. “She was a healthy kid until last winter. Around Christmas she started losing weight, getting ear infections and sore throats and sayi
ng she was tired all the time. She’d had a bad flu, and we figured she was just run-down. Then she started complaining of leg pain, and Lisa—my wife—took her to the doctor. They did blood tests.” He shook his head, like he was still having trouble believing it.
I pushed the toe of my runner against the soft grass at the edge of the path and wondered what all this had to do with me.
“She had chemo, which was hell. But it seemed like it worked. She went into remission and we thought we’d beaten it, but this fall she relapsed. We almost lost her. We got a second remission, but the doctors say it won’t last. She needs a bone marrow transplant. Lisa and I were both tested, of course, but neither of us were a match. Lisa wanted to do in vitro fertilization, to try to have another child who could be a donor, but she had a lot of complications with her last pregnancy and, well, we didn’t know how much time we had. And then…” He cleared his throat. “Then I thought of you.”
“That’s a first,” I said.
“You don’t understand. Mandy has put me in an impossible…” He shook his head, frowning. “Never mind that for now.” He reached out and took my hand. “Listen. Casey’s best chance of survival is if we can find a donor who’s a good match. You’re her half sister. It’s a long shot, but I came out here to ask if you would consider being tested.”
I pulled my hand away. I felt like one of those snow globes—like someone had picked me up and turned me upside down and given me a hard shake. All of my thoughts and feelings were whirling and floating around inside. I shook my head.
Mark misunderstood. “Don’t answer now.” He leaned toward me, his eyes intense, locked on mine. “You promised you’d think about it.”
“I have to go,” I said numbly.
“But you will think about it?” He grabbed my arm.
I looked down at his wrist. His sleeve had pulled back a couple of inches and a glimpse of color flashed. I stared at it. A tattoo. A hummingbird tattoo.
“I’m sorry.” Mark let go and stepped back. “I fly back east on Thursday,” he said. He fumbled in his pocket and handed me a card. “Call me on my cell. Here or at home.”
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