I'm So Sure (2009)

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I'm So Sure (2009) Page 17

by Jenny B. Jones


  Thirty minutes later, my little brother is accounted for and ready for the bus. And I’m belted into the hearse, my head pounding with the music volume, and hoping my ears don’t bleed from the screamo. No wonder teenagers are so violent these days. I know I’d like to hurt someone. Budge swats my hand as I reach for the radio controls. I roll down the window, letting in the March breeze and sharing with all of Truman a little ditty called “Care Bears Wear Beards on Tuesdays.”

  In journalism, Luke makes his rounds, then sits beside me. “Last week’s article on teen jobs was good.”

  “Thanks. The research has been . . . memorable.”

  His smile is oddly warm. “I think everything about your life is just crazy right now. It will settle down when the reality show is over. It has to be hard living with constant video cameras and seeing your picture on the cover of tabloids. I saw Budge’s picture in People last week.

  ”

  I mentally groan. In that same issue was yet another photo of me and Hunter. This one was from my last visit to New York, and Hunter looks like he’s about to kiss my face off.

  “Luke, Hunter and I are still just—” Friends.

  “None of my business.”

  What if I want it to be your business? “How’s Taylor?” I haven’t heard him mention his girlfriend in forever.

  “She’s fine.” He drums his fingers on the desk. “Bella, I think we need to talk to Victoria Smith again.”

  I think about our last visit with the bank teller and cringe. “Are you hoping someone will run us off the road again? Maybe hit the other side?”

  “I want to ask her about Callie’s boyfriend. Maybe she feels like sharing information now. I’ve contacted her and arranged a meeting.”

  “What?” I squeak. “We agreed, Luke. We’re a duet. Not a solo.”

  “I didn’t hide it from you. Can you ride to Tulsa with me after school?”

  I twirl my hair around my finger. “Fine. Pick me up at the house. If there’s a chance of being run off the road again and dying in a ditch, I need to change clothes.” I don’t have good underwear on.

  When Budge and I get home, Jake is in the living room with Robbie. The big man paces the floor while Robbie sits like a statue in a chair.

  “Do you know how scared I was when the teacher called to say you hadn’t made it to school yet?”

  Budge and I don’t even pretend like we’re not listening.

  “Robbie, you are never, never to walk to school. I know you don’t like the bus, but unless you can give me a reason you shouldn’t ride it, that’s our only option right now. Now I’m asking you for the last time, is someone picking on you at school or on the bus?”

  I can barely hear his answer. “No.”

  Jake gets down on his knees, eye level with Robbie. “Son, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you know I’d butt drop anyone who tried to hurt you. Please talk to me.”

  We all lean in, balanced on tippy-toes of hope. Is Robbie going to talk?

  He opens his six-year-old mouth. “Nothing’s going on at school. No one’s picking on me on the bus.”

  Jake pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Go upstairs. And no TV. You’re grounded—again.”

  As Robbie runs to his room, I notice a hint of red under his shirt.

  “His cape.” I point to his retreating back.

  “I know.” Jake flops into a seat. “He doesn’t wear it anymore.”

  “Yes, he does.” I glance back at the stairs. “It’s under his clothes.”

  Luke and I sit across from Victoria Smith in a Tulsa McDonald’s. She eats from the package of fries Luke bought her and keeps one hand on her triple-thick shake. It’s like she knows I’m totally lusting after her ice cream.

  She looks like she’s lost ten pounds and is in need of more than a Happy Meal.

  “I don’t know what more I could possibly tell you.” Her jittery eyes focus on the Playland behind us. “I’ve told you about the day I cashed the check at least ten times.”

  “Okay, we won’t talk about that anymore.” Luke’s voice is as soft as puppy fur. “Victoria, do you know Joshua Day?”

  “Joshua Day?” She bites on her straw. “Like, the senior from Truman?”

  “Yes.” I nod.

  “No, I don’t really know him. Why? What’d he say about me?”

  Luke rests his hands on the table and tells Victoria what we know so far. “People are getting hurt at school—the girls running for prom queen. We just don’t want to see anything bad happen, and I’m sure you don’t either, right?”

  “Right.” She drawls the word out.

  I lean closer to Luke so I can talk. Ignore his cologne. Don’t stare at his jawline. “We think Joshua might know something about the incidents. Victoria, we would never reveal you as our source, but was he in the car the day you cashed the check? Did he threaten you to be quiet?”

  “I—” She sets her shake down with a thud. “I have to pee.”

  I look at Luke as she leaves. We’re, like, nose to nose. I slide down a bit and pretend to wipe some crumbs off my pants.

  “You were breathing on my neck.”

  I glance up. “Was not.”

  His mouth curves upward. “If you had been any closer, we’d have been PG-13.”

  “I guess I was just getting into the discussion.” My face must be as red as Ronald McDonald’s hair. “Sorry.”

  His finger sweeps across my hand. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

  A few minutes later Victoria returns. “I . . . um, have to tell you something.”

  Luke and I both move to the center of the seat and lean in. If she came back to tell us the toilet paper was scratchy, it’s going to be a huge letdown.

  Victoria stares at her hands. “I can’t say much, but I think you’re on the right track with Joshua Day.” Her voice seems to gain strength. “You have to keep me out of this for my own protection, but Joshua is the one who was behind those calls to cancel the caterer and banquet room. And Joshua . . . he’s been harassing the girls.”

  “Have you been helping him?” I ask.

  “No!”

  Luke grips his Coke. “Was he the one who transferred the junior class’s money into Anna Deason’s account?”

  “Yes. He’s brilliant at computers. He writes all sorts of programs.” Her eyes grow distant, as if she’s seeing him. “He’s great at fantasy. It’s reality that he has trouble with. But I love him anyway. Even if he won’t stop chasing her and—” Victoria clamps her mouth tight. “I have to go.” She jumps out of the seat, doubles back, grabs the shake, and bolts out the door.

  We get back to Truman just in time for the opening of Pile Driver of Dreams. The crowd has expanded and somehow an even bigger flat screen has appeared.

  Dolly sits with Mason in her lap and laughs at something he does. From a distance Mickey watches, his face impassive.

  Luke and I grab the two vacant seats next to Lindy and Matt. Not that they notice we’re there.

  “I just don’t see why I have to hear about your prom date from someone else, that’s all,” Matt says.

  “So that’s what you’ve been so pouty about lately?”

  “I thought maybe—”

  “What?” Lindy barks. “That we’d go together? As friends. Like we always do things together—as friends.”

  “Best friends. And I don’t even know this Newton guy.”

  Lindy crosses her arms and jerks her head away. “You can meet him at prom.”

  “You’ve been acting weird ever since you got that Match-andCatch form back,” Matt says. “Does it bother you that it paired us together? It’s not like I’m your brother or a cousin.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Aren’t you?”

  Luke’s whisper dances on my neck. “Lindy likes Matt?”

  “You’re just now putting that together?” I tsk. “Clearly I have the sharper reporter’s instinct.”

  Of course, right now my instinct is saying, Lu
ke, back up before I get the urge to do something crazy like feel your biceps or run my fingers through your hair.

  With many of Jake’s coworkers, friends, and fellow wrestlers, I tune into Pile Driver of Dreams. When the show turns to Jake, it shows him at work in the early morning hours. Some footage of him with Budge and Robbie. The family at church last Sunday. And Jake in his pirate garb taking someone to the mat.

  “You’re on the screen, Bella.” Mom grins from across the room. Images flash of me having a one-woman fight with the pad machine. Me on the front steps with Hunter, staring intensely into his eyes. Mickey’s gym erupts into whistles and ooohs.

  I shake my head and laugh it off. “It’s nothing!” I look up and find Luke watching me. He averts his gaze and returns his attention to the TV.

  And it is nothing with Hunter. Nothing more than friendship.

  And I’ve decided that’s all I’m going to let it be.

  I think.

  chapter twenty-nine

  The week passes by so easily, I’m just waiting for the sky to fall.

  Though lots of March rain, there’s no prom queen calamity, and Jake made it through again. Now it’s down to just him and Sanchez the Snake. In less than three weeks, the two wrestlers will go head to head. Or spandex to spandex. Wedgie to wedgie.

  On this Wednesday morning, I sit Indian-style on the floor of the library at our Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting. Callie sits beside me, looking a little uncertain.

  Today the speaker, a football player from Oklahoma State, spoke on forgiveness and letting things go. It started out kind of boring, but when he started playing the YouTube clips, I began to tune in. And Callie showed up, surprising us all.

  “. . . And God tells us to forgive as he forgave. You know, Jesus didn’t hang on that cross just for you alone and just so you could forget it. We are to be Jesus to others. Are you still holding on to a grudge?”

  About ten possibilities pop into my head.

  “Are you still withholding forgiveness for someone who deserves it? How’s that going for you? Is it accomplishing anything?”

  I think of my dad. Maybe I don’t like Christina because I’m still hurt he left my mom. Maybe Marisol isn’t totally awful. I guess I can’t show them Christ if I’m catty all the time. And Christina has made an effort with me.

  “Think of family . . . friends . . . former friends . . .”

  Ew. Mia. My BFF who stole Hunter. Okay, so Hunter was just as guilty. And I did forgive him.

  I need to call Mia. Tell her it’s okay and just let it all go. Or I could talk to her when I go to Manhattan for spring break next week.

  And maybe I should forgive Budge for flushing my MAC eye shadow down the toilet last month.

  Nah. Let’s not go crazy.

  After prayer, we’re dismissed. I stand up and stretch my arms. “How did you like it?” I ask Callie.

  “It was good.” Her eyes flit over all the people in the room. “Thanks for asking me. It’s like after I got with Joshua, all my friends forgot about me. Except for Felicity.” She steps closer. “Bella, you know I didn’t do all those things, right? I would never hurt anyone.”

  “I believe you.” And I do. I don’t even think she knows about her boyfriend’s misdeeds. But she soon will if Luke and I have anything to do with it.

  Later in journalism, I stand behind Luke at his workstation. “Did you want to see my final draft?” I ask.

  He minimizes an e-mail message, but not before I see his girlfriend’s name. “Um . . . yeah.” Luke takes my work from my hand. “Bella, this is good,” he says after some time. “Just like the job features, every article you’ve submitted about living with a reality show has been top-notch.”

  I try to wipe the big goofy grin off my face, but fail.

  “I’ve learned a lot about the wrestling business from reading your work.” Luke takes off his glasses. “Learned a lot about you.”

  “Well . . .” Inhale. Exhale. “It’s been fun working on this together. I really liked having you around on Thursday and Friday nights.” I replay the words in my head. “Er, and everyone else! Yep. Matt. Lindy. Breath of Death. That guy totally livens up a party, eh?” Why am I still talking?

  “I guess since the show is taking a few weeks off before the big finale, our standing date at Mickey’s is off.”

  I swallow. “Yeah.” The show will still film the families, but it won’t go back on the air until the Thursday night before prom. “Too bad the paper won’t send you to Vegas with us for the final show. But then there’d be two of us rushing around like mad Saturday morning trying to get back in time for prom.” He’s smiling. What does that mean?

  “There’s a class meeting at lunch. Are you going to be there?”

  “Yes. Can’t wait.” Can’t wait for a class meeting? Did I really just say that?

  After calculus I take my rumbling stomach straight to the cafeteria to pick up something to eat. I bump into Anna. “What’s your hurry?” I ask.

  “Class meeting. Felicity’s going so she can make some big announcement. I can’t wait to see what it is this time.” Anna rolls her eyes. “Maybe her daddy’s arranged for horse-drawn carriages for all of us.”

  “Did you say there’s a class meeting?” Ruthie stops. “Will my prom date be there?”

  I shrug. “I guess it’s possible.”

  “I’m in. Let’s go.”

  The girls wait for me as I grab a sandwich to go. When I rejoin them at the cafeteria doors, Callie Drake stands next to them along with her boyfriend.

  “Oh, and here’s Bella,” Callie says. “This is my boyfriend, Joshua.”

  I force a smile. “I feel like I already know you.” Seriously, dude, I mean that.

  “I had a great time at the Wiener Palace last week.” Callie looks at all of us expectantly.

  “Sorry Felicity’s still giving you the cold shoulder,” I say. “You can hang out with us anytime.” Just don’t bring Psycho Joshua.

  “I’m gonna go get in line. I don’t want them to sell out of pizza.” Joshua steps away, then turns around. “And Callie, don’t be long or I won’t hold your place.”

  She laughs nervously. “He’s pretty serious about lunch. I better go.”

  We say our good-byes and then head to the library for the meeting. Lindy is just calling it to order when I take a seat beside Luke.

  “Okay, guys. Next week is spring break, and then . . . prom. We’ve had a few fund-raisers and now have enough money to pay the deejay and—”

  “I have an announcement! Excuse me!” Felicity Weeks makes her way from the back of the room.

  From my spot, I see Lindy tense, like she totally wants to tell Felicity to shut her yapper.

  “I am here today as a representative of the senior class.” Felicity beams like she’s found the cure for cancer. “And as you know, I have provided us an alternate location for prom.” She stops as a few people hoot in support. “And now I am pleased to tell you that my father has secured the top caterer in Oklahoma, OK Kibbles—all free! My daddy will be picking up the tab as a donation to Truman High.”

  Half the room cheers in response. The other half just stares, knowing there’s more.

  “Man, her popularity rating is going to be off the chart,” Anna grumbles.

  “And as a favor to my daddy, Big Cool from KLRC radio has agreed to emcee and deejay the event!”

  “Wait!” Lindy yells over the crowd. “Wait! Felicity, you can’t step in and take over prom. We have class officers, and we have to vote and—”

  “All in favor, say aye!” calls Brady Malone, the secretary.

  “Aye!”

  The whole room shouts agreement, and Lindy knows it’s over. “Fine. Felicity, please give us more details.”

  Anna raises her hand. “And don’t fear because I’m bringing balloons!” She looks around the now silent library. “Fine. I see how you are. You’ll have a balloonless prom. That’s what you’ll have.”

  After
the meeting I spend the rest of my classes thinking about Luke. And thinking about Hunter. Both guys are, like, putting something out there. I don’t know what. But Luke has Taylor, and my ship with Hunter has already sailed. Hasn’t it? It’s just that he’s so different. I really like the new version. A lot. But . . . he doesn’t make the butterflies bungee in my stomach like Luke does.

  After school I hop in the hearse, and in a blaze of shrieking lyrics, Budge takes us to Truman Elementary to pick up Robbie.

  “Can you find a ride to tutoring tomorrow morning? I don’t have my gamer meeting.”

  I stare at Budge. “What? Your army of dorks isn’t meeting? Did someone die?”

  He answers by cranking up his hideous music just as Robbie gets to the hearse.

  “Hey, buddy.” I ruffle Robbie’s hair as he climbs in back. “Did you eat any paste today?”

  “Just a little.” He shoves some papers into his half-open backpack.

  “Did you have art?” Budge asks. “Let’s see what you drew. Maybe a symbolic representation of global warming?”

  I think of his past artwork. “A picture depicting your feelings on the cruelty of petting zoos?” I wrap my arm around my seat and grab a paper. “Let’s see.”

  “No!” Robbie yells. “Give it back.”

  “Robbie, it’s in two pieces. What happened?” I hold up two halves.

  “Nothing.”

  Budge inspects the paper. “A dog? You painted a dog?”

  My older stepbrother and I share a concerned look.

  “Maybe it’s a metaphor for his need for world peace?”

  Budge snaps his fingers. “Yeah, or a symbol of man’s inner struggle with—”

  “It’s a dog.” Robbie snatches the paper back and clicks into his seat belt. “Can we just go home?”

  “Did someone rip your paper?” I ask.

  His short legs kick against his seat as he stares out the window.

  Another thought occurs to me, one that makes my heart hurt. “Has someone been making fun of your drawings?” Still no reply. “If so, Robbie, that’s just stupid. You have the best artwork I’ve ever seen. Like, museum quality.”

  Budge turns into Sugar’s Diner. “Total Smithsonian material.”

 

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