“Nah, another time.” Mark disappears upstairs without seeing me.
I take another quick sip of beer, trying to hold onto the bottle with one hand.
“Girl, slow down. It ain’t going anywhere,” Natice says.
I pull back on the bottle with both hands, almost spitting it out.
Natice laughs and smiles at Keisha. “Cheerleader’s funny, ain’t she?”
Cracker leans over the table and holds out a handful of Cracker Jacks for Keisha. “Here you go. You can be a lil’ crackerjack head.”
Natice slaps Cracker’s hand away. “Girl, don’t be feeding her that junk.”
“Oww! Fuck you, Natice!” Cracker massages her hand.
“And don’t be cursin’! Child’s gonna know nothing but swear words!”
“Fuck you!” Cracker says, louder.
“Don’t try me, girl,” Natice threatens.
Ronnie puts her arm lovingly around Cracker. “Oh, Cracker’s just trying to be nice, Natty.” She dips her chubby hand into the Cracker Jack box and pulls out a handful. “Right, Cracker?” Ronnie stuffs the candy popcorn into her mouth.
Cracker pulls the box away. “Hope you washed your hands.”
Lori’s cell phone rings, and she heads outside to answer the call.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask.
“Upstairs,” Natice answers.
I breeze through the living room and head toward the carpeted stairs I saw Mark run up. I feel as though I’m back in the third grade when I invited a boy I liked to my birthday party, and he said he’d come, but then the day of my party, he never showed up. However, right now, I have a lot more riding on this than hurt feelings.
Upstairs is just as dirty and depressing as the rest of the house. The bathroom is at the far end of the hall, and there are three bedrooms in all. One bedroom door is wide open, another is closed, and the third is cracked open with music flowing around it. I pass the first bedroom and look in. There’s an unmade bed with sheets crumpled on the floor, a dresser, and not much more.
I move to the door that is ajar and peek inside. I see Mark facing a desktop computer. I knock, and when he doesn’t look up, I knock louder, and the door pushes open.
“What?” Mark sounds annoyed. He turns and sees me standing in the doorway.
I’m not sure what to expect from him. He didn’t call me after I gave him my number.
He smiles. “Yo. What, are you stalkin’ me?”
“You wish.” I step into his room. “I was playing basketball with your sister. I thought I’d say hi.”
“Really? You’re hangin’ with my sister?” I note a hint of disapproval in his voice.
“Just for the day. We won.” I casually inspect his room.
“Cool,” Mark says, not seeming to mind my nosiness.
“Who’s this?” I ask, liking the song that’s playing.
Mark raises the volume. “Goldfish. They’re a South African band.”
“Cool, I like it.” I notice Mark has the full collector’s edition of Rocky. I pick the box off the shelf. “Rocky?”
“Yo. It’s my favorite movie,” Mark says with a cute laugh.
I put the box back on the shelf and continue my inspection. There’s a TV, Xbox, and tons of Blu-rays and DVDs of action and horror films. Nothing unusual. It’s just like any other seventeen-year-old boy’s bedroom.
“You still have my number?”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“You ever gonna use it?”
“Don’t worry. I know where to find you,” he says, using my line.
“Oh really?” I give him a flirtatious look. “Then I’ll see ya around.”
“You can bet on that.”
We share a smile, and I walk out of Mark’s bedroom, feeling good about my visit. I give the wall a little tap with my fingers and head toward the stairs. I still have a plan to use him. After all, he corroborated Lori’s story about her being home the night of the shooting.
The girls are in the backyard when I drop back down the creaky stairs. I hear Lori and Ronnie arguing.
“I can’t get the damn car. How many times I gotta tell you all?” Ronnie says.
“Damn, Ronnie! I need the money,” Natice says.
I watch unnoticed from inside the kitchen until I see Cracker has spotted me. I make myself busy by filling a glass with water. I take a few quick sips before I step outside and join the girls. Keisha scurries around me on the dirty ground, and I try to keep from tripping over her as Lori angrily walks past.
“I told Vince we were cool for a delivery!” Lori shouts.
“Whaddya want me to do? My mother’s got church on Sunday nights!” Ronnie says.
“And Wednesday nights. And Thursday nights,” Cracker mocks.
“Your momma’s freaky on Jesus,” Natice adds.
“I got a car. I can drive,” I say.
“Who gives a fuck? No one’s talking to you!”
Apparently, it doesn’t matter how many times I pass the ball to Cracker.
“Yeah! Let Cheerleader drive! She got a car.” Ronnie is more than happy to volunteer my services.
“I could use the extra cash.” I ignore Cracker.
“What fuckin’ extra cash? Go the fuck back to Seattle! Why is she even here?” Cracker says.
“No, hold on,” Lori says. “I think we could use Cheerleader.”
“If she’s in, I’m out!” Cracker responds.
“Cracker, shut the fuck up! You’re in if I say you’re in!” Lori turns to Natice, who hasn’t said a word. “Natty, whadda you think? Cheerleader cool to drive?”
“I guess. If she wants to.” Natice looks at me.
“This is bullshit! We don’t even know her!” Cracker yells and storms off inside the house.
Lori laughs and walks over to me. “Forget her. So what do you say, Ally? You feel like doing a lil’ convenience store shopping?”
“Sure. What is it?” I ask.
“That part’s a surprise. But if you wanna earn extra cash, jus’ come back here at nine, and you’ll find out,” Lori says.
Natice walks me to my car.
“Will anyone get hurt?”
“No,” she says.
“But I’m guessing it’s illegal?”
“You guessin’ right.” Natice waits to see if I’ll change my mind.
“Cool.”
Natice laughs. “Shit. Well, I’m glad you don’t have a problem with illegal activity.”
“So what is it that we’re doing?”
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah.”
“All I’ll say is that it can be fun. But if we get caught, it’s serious.”
“That narrows it down. Are we robbing a store?”
“No.”
“Will guns be involved?”
“Definitely not.”
I’m relieved. Another question pops into my head, and I’m very curious to hear Natice’s answer. “So why don’t any of you have cars?”
“I don’t know how to drive. Cracker’s too cheap to buy a car. And Lori had a car, but she don’t anymore.”
I purposely hold off on asking about Lori’s car. Instead, I say, “You don’t know how to drive?” I smile as if finding it funny even though I couldn’t care less.
“Nope.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, if you ever want to learn, let me know.”
“A’right, I will.” Natice smiles.
“So what happened to Lori’s car?” I finally ask.
“Nothing. It was stolen.”
“That blows. Where’d it get stolen?”
Natice points to the driveway. “Right here.”
“In front of her house?”
“Yup.”
“Come on! Someone stole it out of her driveway? Bullshit!” I say with a laugh.
“Well, that’s the story she told me.” Natice raises an eyebrow without giving anything away. “Look, I’ll see ya later.”
“Do you need me to pick you up?”
“Nah, I’ll be here.” Natice starts to walk away then stops and looks back at me as if troubled by something. “Ally, you sure you wanna do this?”
“Sure. Long as no one’s gonna die.”
Natice stares at me strangely, and for a moment, I fear I’ve said too much. Then I see something in her eyes that wasn’t there earlier, a hint of sadness.
“You all right?”
She nods and forces a smile. “Yeah. I’ll see ya later, Ally.” She walks away.
“Yeah. See ya.” I know I’ve hit a nerve.
When I return to my motel room, I shower and change my clothes, all hyped up. Natice might not have confessed the truth, but it was written all over her face. I know in my gut that these girls had something to do with Jenny’s shooting and that Lori’s stolen car story is bullshit, just as Detective Thoms suspected.
I click on the TV and search for something to keep me calm. I check the clock at least fifty times before nine o’clock nears, and as I’m about to head out the door, my Cantor cell phone rings. It’s Natice.
“Hey, what’s up?” I ask, afraid they no longer want me to drive.
“Change of plans. Pick us up in the schoolyard behind Lori’s house. We’re here in the parking lot.”
“A’right.” I don’t ask why.
I hang up the phone and catch my reflection in the mirror. It dawns on me that once I leave this motel room, I will be committing my first crime. I stare at myself. I used to be an honor student. I used to have friends. I used to have a sister. Before I change my mind, I grab the car keys and head out the door.
Chapter 25
When I arrive at the schoolyard, everyone is there. Cracker stands next to Ronnie, who appears to be dealing drugs to a bunch of teenagers in a beat-up Honda. She dangles a small baggie of what I’m guessing is either coke or heroin between her thumb and forefinger.
“Yo, I got fifty. Fifty’s good,” the teenager behind the wheel says.
“This ain’t no Best Buy! Get the fuck outta here!” Ronnie says, about to walk away.
“A’right, sixty’s cool!” The teenager turns to his girlfriend in the passenger seat. “Bitch, gimme the money!”
Ronnie sees me and smiles. “What up, Cheerleader?”
“Hey.” I nod, expecting Cracker to say something nasty or erupt in a fit of anger, but she remains silent. If anything, Cracker looks happy to see me. And right away, my gut gives me a big hard kick in the ribs, letting me know something is not right.
“I told you. I told you. You always bitchin’ about how you gonna fail.” Lori takes a hit off a joint.
“Shit, I thought I did fail,” Natice says. “What up, Ally?”
“What’d you fail?” I try to act normal, but inside, I feel like a ball of aluminum foil that’s been thrown into a microwave set on high.
“Nothing. I scored an eighty-eight on my trig exam,” Natice says.
“Nice job.” If ever there was a girl I wanted to kiss, it would be Natice, simply for the fact she puts me at ease.
“Thanks, girl.” She slaps my hand.
“So you ready to make a delivery?” Lori asks.
“Sure. Let’s do it.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Let’s do it!” Lori offers me the joint. “Here, Cheerleader, have some.”
I’ve only smoked weed once before and hated it. All it did was make me feel tired, hungry, and paranoid. I basically hid in a closet all night eating an entire bag of Salt and Vinegar potato chips. I woke up the next morning, still in the closet and feeling like shit. My mouth was so dry it hurt to talk.
I take the joint from Lori to keep things friendly. I inhale too hard and cough uncontrollably. My lungs feel like they’re on fire. Ronnie and Cracker arrive in time to witness my coughing fit.
“Dumb ass,” Cracker says.
Ronnie laughs. “Cheerleader’s like me. She can’t hold her smoke!”
Lori grabs the joint back. “Let’s get rolling!” She heads toward my car.
“Old man give you a hard time for calling out sick?” Natice asks.
“He fired me,” I say with another cough.
“Shit. He fired me three times last month.” Natice laughs.
I slide behind the wheel with one last, lingering cough.
“Turn on the fucking AC! It’s hot as hell in here!” Cracker yells from the backseat.
“It doesn’t work,” I tell her.
“You’re kidding me?”
Lori doesn’t seem to mind as she directs me out of the schoolyard. “Make a left then straight out to the highway. About two miles up, you’re gonna hit the Turnpike. Take it south, Cheerleader.”
“Lori, turn on the radio!” Ronnie reaches up from the backseat, finds a station she likes, and blasts the music.
“Get the hell outta here!” Lori pushes Ronnie’s big body back and lowers the volume.
“Your grandmother needs a new car.” Lori looks around the front seat. She pops open the glove compartment and picks through it.
And that’s when it hits me—the envelope with all the paperwork for the car is in there. And my name, Alexandra Campbell, is scribbled on the front.
“Yeah, she does.” I take my eyes off the road and plant them firmly on Lori at the exact moment she pulls out the envelope. “Look, my grandmother hates when I go through her stuff.” I sound a lot more nervous than I probably should.
“Relax, Cheerleader.” Lori holds the envelope in her hand, while tossing out old candy wrappers. “You need to clean this shit out.” She continues to rifle through the contents.
Panic sets in as I see my name poking out from between her fingers. I think any second she is going to notice it too.
“Look who’s talkin’,” Natice says. “When’s the last time you cleaned your house?”
Lori finds a Tootsie Roll lollipop and without bothering to look at the envelope, tosses it back inside the glove compartment and slams it closed, keeping the lollipop for herself.
I relax slightly and hope Lori doesn’t open the glove compartment again. I make a mental note to destroy that envelope first chance I get.
“Turn that up!” Natice hollers as Beyonce’s “Drunk in Love” comes over the radio. Lori cranks up the volume, and Natice and Ronnie burst out singing.
“So Cheerleader, where’d you meet Romeo?” Lori asks, having no idea how close she just came to discovering who I am.
“The gas station,” I answer, still on edge.
She unwraps the lollipop and sticks it into her mouth. “Really? The gas station.” Her tone sounds suspicious as if she knows I’m lying.
“Yup.” I keep my eyes on the road.
Lori leans in close. “You high, ain’t you?”
“Yeah. What the fuck was in that joint?” Whatever was in it has made me doubly paranoid. Then again, the envelope scare did not help.
Lori laughs. “Just follow the white lines, Cheerleader. We don’t want to get pulled over.”
Chapter 26
We get off the Turnpike and take Route 34 until we reach Edgewood Gardens. It’s a nice middle-class suburb that looks exactly like Middletown. Its highway is littered with the same fast-food restaurants: Chili’s, Applebee’s, and Friday’s. There’s even a movie theater and a Barnes and Noble.
“Slow down. Pull in here.” Lori points to a bank on the right. It’s next to a flower shop, and the parking lot is dark, except for the bank’s well-lit ATM.
“Lori, what are you doing?” Natice leans up from the backseat.
“I�
��m making a withdrawal, Natice. What does it look like?”
“If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, don’t!”
“Natice, how ‘bout you don’t fucking tell me what I’m doing?” Lori snaps. She looks over at me again. “Park away from the ATM. There.” She points to a spot parallel to the bank but in the shadows.
“Lori, you said we were doing a delivery!” Natice hollers.
“Shut the fuck up, Natice!” Lori yells.
I park and turn off the engine. “Now what?”
“Now it’s time for a withdrawal.” Lori pulls out a gun from under her shirt and holds it out for me.
Viewing guns on a computer screen doesn’t compare to this. I feel as if I’m inches away from death. I hold Lori’s stare, this time unable to hide my fear. “Last time I checked, I only needed a debit card for a withdrawal.”
“Exactly,” Natice says.
“Not when it’s other people’s money,” Lori says.
“Yeah, people need motivation,” Cracker says with a laugh.
Now I know why Cracker looked so happy when she first saw me. She obviously knew Lori was going to do this.
Ronnie buries her face in her hands and tries to keep from laughing.
Lori waits for me to take the gun. “What do you say, Cheerleader? All you gotta do is hop in the backseat and say hello with your little friend.” She smiles and shakes the gun as if she is holding a Coca-Cola bottle.
“Fifty bucks Cheerleader shoots herself,” Cracker says.
“Ally, you don’t have to do this,” Natice says.
“Shut the fuck up, Natice! I swear to God!” Lori threatens.
“You said we were doing a delivery! I need the fuckin’ money!” Natice yells.
“You’ll get your fucking money! She wants to be a driver. Earn it! I don’t fucking know her!” Lori screams.
“Damn straight,” Cracker says.
“Let me outta the car!” Natice reaches for the door handle.
“Natice, where you gonna go?” Lori grabs her arm.
“Fucking girl scout,” Cracker says.
“Fuck you, Cracker!” Natice yells back.
“Shit, I’ll go,” Ronnie pipes in.
“No! I’ll do it!”
Girl on Point Page 13