Girl on Point

by Cheryl Guerriero

  “Can you drop me off here?” I ask the cab driver, pointing to a 7-Eleven store less than a mile from Tom’s Used Car Lot. I pay with cash and walk the rest of the distance. I’ve only taken about ten steps when I break into a jog, fearing that between now and the time that I called Tom, he has already sold my Jeep, but as I approach the lot, I come to a complete stop, and my lips curl into a smile at the sight of my beautiful blue Jeep facing the highway with an $8,995 price tag taped to the inside of the windshield.

  A sense of relief washes over me, like seeing an A marked on a test when you were expecting to fail. “Thank God.” I unlock the driver’s-side door with my spare key and fall in love with my Jeep all over again. I climb behind the wheel, start the ignition, hit the gas pedal, hop over the curb, and in less than thirty seconds, I steal back my Jeep without having to hot-wire it.

  When I arrive in Middletown, it’s a little before seven in the morning—too early to go home, so I drive down to Sandy Hook Beach, twenty minutes past my parents’ house and the first stop along the Jersey Shore. I park at the very last section, where Jenny used to love to come, by the Seagull’s Nest restaurant, overlooking the ocean. I take off my sneakers and step out onto the sand, passing the restaurant on my left and walking down toward the shoreline. I’m grateful nobody else is here, except for a lone jogger off in the distance. I sit with my feet touching the water and listen to the waves crash. A sense of calm washes over me. But then my feelings of missing Jenny resurface, and I begin to sob.

  I leave the beach about an hour later, and my father is pushing a lawn mower across the grass when I pull into the driveway and park in front of the basketball pole. My father shuts the mower and walks toward me, smiling.

  “What’d you do to your hair?” he says affectionately.

  “I wanted a change.”

  His smile widens, and he gives me a great big hug. “I missed you, kiddo.” He kisses the top of my head.

  “I missed you, too.” I tighten my grip on him, smelling his cologne. It’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket.

  “C’mon, I’ll make you some breakfast.” He gives me another kiss, wraps his arm around me, and leads me into the house.

  “Where’s Duke? I can’t wait to kiss his big, furry head.”

  “In the backyard. He kept trying to bite the lawn mower. He’ll be excited to see you.” He pushes open the front door.

  It’s difficult when I first enter the house, but then I knew it would be. I’m immediately greeted by the family photographs lining the foyer walls. In each one, Jenny looks happy and alive. I want to die, knowing I will never see my sister again, but I keep walking, following my dad into the kitchen.

  And there he is—Duke’s handsome face panting at me from behind the screen door. He barks, and his tail goes nuts. My heart fills with joy seeing his big dopey face. As soon as I open the door, he’s all over me, jumping and barking, tail thrashing.

  “I missed you!” I wrestle the big dopey bastard to the ground, and his paw almost catches me in the face. “How’s my big, handsome boy? Huh? I missed you soooooo much.” I give his face several kisses before snuggling into his soft, furry body. I hold onto him for dear life.

  “You want eggs? Bacon? Toast?” my dad asks, happy to have me home.

  “Sure.” I stay seated on the floor, my hand stroking Duke from head to tail. I glance around the kitchen, barely recognizing the toaster oven or the refrigerator, and is that a new coffee machine, or has it always been there? Everything looks so foreign to me now, especially compared to where I’ve been.

  My father opens the refrigerator, pulls out a bunch of food, and goes to work making me breakfast. “So tell me everything. How’s Natalie?”

  “She’s good.”

  “Did she bleach her hair too?”

  I think about Natice’s photograph when she was younger. I smile. “No, just me, Dad.”

  “And how’s your jump shot?”

  “Solid. It’s tight.”

  “Tight, huh? Good. So what else did they teach you at camp?”

  Armed robbery. Car thefts. Break-ins. “A few things.”

  My dad finishes at the stove and places a dish of warm eggs and bacon down on the table. I rise from the floor, and Duke follows me to my chair.

  My dad ruffles my short blond hair. “Eat up, kiddo. You’re looking a little skinny.”

  It’s true. I’ve lost at least five or seven pounds since I left.

  My father sits down beside me with his own plate of food. Duke takes his normal standing position between us, and I toss him a piece of bacon that he snatches from the air, not even waiting for it to be swallowed before he’s begging for more. A warm sensation fills my body. It’s been so long since I ate breakfast like this, between Dad and Duke. I had almost forgotten how happy it makes me. I only wish Jenny were with us. I look up and notice the basketball schedule has been removed from the refrigerator door.

  “So when’s Natalie’s birthday?” Dad asks, already aware that I plan on returning to Ocean City for her fictitious birthday party.

  “Next weekend. It’ll be on the beach.”

  “Good. Well, I’m glad you’re having fun.” Dad smiles, looking especially handsome. His face is clean-shaven, and his hair is recently cut. “We should buy Natalie’s parents a gift for letting you stay there. Make sure you give me their address before you leave. Okay?”

  How am I going to give him an address? I shrug nonchalantly and say, “How about a gift certificate? There’s a really nice restaurant they always go to. I can pick one up for them. I know they’d like it.”

  “Sure. Just let me know. You plan on seeing Lea while you’re home?”

  I hesitate. “I don’t know.” I suddenly feel bad. I’ve totally ghosted her.

  “Well, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think I will,” I say, softly. Then I swallow a bite of my eggs and watch my dad closely. “So what’s going on with you?”

  “I’m okay,” he says with confidence. “I started playing poker with some guys at the office.”

  “Really?” I tilt back in my seat. My father hasn’t done anything outside the office since Jenny’s death, other than to go to the gym and keep a watchful eye on my mother.

  “Yup.” He nods proudly.

  “How bad are you?”

  He laughs. “I only lost a hundred dollars the other night. Probably why they invited me into the game.”

  Dad and I share a smile, and for a moment, I forget I have a dead sister.

  “What happened to your hand?” my father asks, noticing the Band-Aid covering my black diamond tattoo.

  “Oh, Natalie’s cat scratched me.”

  I hear footsteps, and a moment later, my mother enters the kitchen. She sees me sitting at the table and looks surprised even though she knew I was coming home.

  “Hi, Mom.” I rise to hug her.

  “What did you do to your hair?” She crinkles her nose and eyebrows. And in a matter of seconds, the whole energy in the room changes.

  “I jus’ needed a change.”

  We hug briefly, and I sit back down next to my father. I’m not the only one who’s lost weight. My mother looks emaciated.

  “So who’s this new friend? Tell me about her,” my mom says, making an effort at conversation.

  “A girl I met at camp. She’s really cool.”

  “Camp,” my mother comments bitterly. “You’re not even going to college, but you went away to basketball camp.”

  “It’s fine, Mary.” My father warns my mother with a look not to start any trouble.

  But of course my mother ignores the look. “I called the governor’s office. They still won’t get involved in your sister’s case. They sent me a letter saying it’s being thoroughly handled by the local authorities. What they mean to say is thorou
ghly mishandled.”

  “Maybe something will turn up.”

  “Like what? What’s going to turn up, Alex?”

  “I don’t know. A confession. The gun. You never know.”

  My mother looks at me as if I’m stupid. “A confession? Really, Alex?” She shakes her head and continues her tirade. “They’re the ones to blame, letting Cantor get the way it is. It has one of the worst crime rates in New Jersey. I—”

  “Mary?” my father interrupts.

  “What?”

  “Can we just enjoy breakfast with our daughter?”

  “I stopped enjoying breakfast eight months ago, John.” My mother walks out of the room, leaving Dad and me upset.

  “I’m sorry, Alex. She’s still…” My father can’t finish his words. I can tell this is all wearing on him. I wonder if my father only stays with my mother because of me.

  “It’s okay.”

  My father forces a smile. “I love you, kiddo.”

  “Love you too, Dad.”

  He winks and ruffles my hair. “I like it. It looks good.”

  “Thanks.” I smile back, and we force ourselves to finish eating.

  After breakfast, my father returns to mowing the lawn, and I visit Jenny’s bedroom. I pick up a framed photograph of the two of us on her dresser. “I miss you, Jenny.” I stare at her face.

  A moment later, I hear a creak by the door. I turn and see my mother watching me from the hall. She walks silently away.

  After taking a much-needed nap, I meet up with Dr. Evans at a nearby Starbucks. He’s sitting at a table when I arrive, and just like my father, Dr. Evans greets me with an enthusiastic smile and a warm hug. He’s wearing shorts and a white T-shirt.

  “You cut your hair?”

  “Yeah.”

  “It looks good. I like it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What is it?” he asks.

  “It’s so weird seeing you in a T-shirt. I don’t know. I’m not used to it.”

  “My summer attire,” he says proudly.

  We share a smile, and I’m instantly glad I made time to meet with him. Same as with my father, there’s a sense of warmth being around Dr. Evans. But I don’t have to pretend to be happy when I’m not. Or lie about my feelings. I can just be myself—well mostly myself, with a few exceptions.

  “So your dad told me you’re staying in Ocean City for the summer?”

  “Yeah, I met a girl at camp, and we hit it off.”

  “That’s great. So how was camp?”

  I tell Dr. Evans camp was brutal. Brutal, in the sense that it was a lot of running and drills. “But I loved the scrimmages, and Natalie and I were always on the same team, so that was cool.” I make up stuff about Ocean City the way I had about Seattle. I also share with Dr. Evans that I’ve become close friends with all of Natalie’s friends. “They’ve been helping me keep busy.”

  “And what about the nightmares? Have you had any while you’ve been away?”

  I realize I haven’t, which surprises me. “No.”

  “That’s great.” Dr. Evans glances down at my hand and sees the Band-Aid. “What happened?”

  I press down on the Band-Aid, making sure it is firmly stuck in place. “Oh, Natice’s cat scratched me.” A second later I realize what I said and quickly correct myself. “I mean Natalie’s cat.”

  Chapter 44

  I stay in Middletown another three days with a nagging worry the police are going to show up at my parents’ house and arrest me for the stolen Jeep parked in our driveway. But I’m probably safe since that used car lot is so far away. I push the thought from my head and try to relax. My father and I go to see two movies together, play a few games of tennis, and shoot basketballs. We have dinner one night with my mother, and it’s difficult. She doesn’t talk about Jenny or the governor’s office, but she is depressed. I doubt any of the medications she’s on are helping. I also notice her drinking has increased, as well as my father’s. I don’t call Lea or any of my other friends while I’m at home. Lea would just bug me to come out with her and then talk about herself the entire time. Instead, I spend most of my time lying on the couch, watching movies with Duke right beside me.

  Oddly enough, I find myself missing Natice. Before I left Cantor, I sent her a text telling her I had to fly home to Seattle for a family emergency, but I haven’t spoken to her since she showed me how to hot-wire a car.

  I wait until my parents are asleep in their bedroom before I break out my Cantor phone. Duke is at the foot of my bed, eyes closed, sleeping, and I’m already hating myself, knowing I’ll be leaving him again.

  Yo, what up, sexy? I text.

  Almost immediately, Natice texts back. Where the hell you been? Girl, you don’t call?

  Sorry, it’s been cray cray, I write back.

  So what happened? Natice asks.

  My mom. Bit of a mental breakdown. It’s half true. I add an emoji with a grinning face and smiling eyes.

  Shit. Sorry girl. You okay?

  Yeah, I’m fine. She’s doing better now.

  Cool, Natice writes. You need anything, lemme know.

  Thx. I will.

  Sooooo you coming back?? I sense that Natice is worried I may not.

  Yeah def. I’ll be back next week.

  I receive a smiling-face emoji. It’s followed by, Pop has been on the rag all week! That one is followed by an angry, red-faced emoji.

  How’s his breath? I write. I send it with a smiling pile of poo.

  Natice stops texting and calls me. She sounds happy to hear my voice and fills me in on some of the drama that has been going on while I’ve been gone, mainly a few fights between guys and something about toilet paper being stolen from the bathroom. The biggest news, though, is that she finally hooked up with that boy in her class. “Girl, I felt like I was kissing a Saint Bernard. I swear I needed a towel to dry off my face.”

  We share a few more laughs before we get off the phone. “I’ll see you soon.”

  When it comes time for me to say goodbye to my parents and return to Cantor, a five-hundred-pound bag of guilt weighs on my shoulders for leaving my father. I know how much he’s loved having me home and that it’s been good for him. But I remind myself why I’m returning to Cantor—to get the evidence to send Jenny’s killers to prison.

  As I say goodbye to my mother and look into her face, a sense of determination hardens like cement. The next time she sees me, I will have turned up something the police can use. I promise her that without saying a word.

  Chapter 45

  “How much do you think we can get for it?” I ask Natice, who stares at my blue Jeep in amazement.

  “Girl, where’d the hell you steal this from?”

  I smile. “I went convenience store shopping at a 7-Eleven.”

  A few hours later, Tray is counting out a roll of hundreds and placing them into the palm of my hand. In total, he gives me three thousand dollars. It’s the second time I’ve received money for my Jeep. At least now, when I tell my parents my Jeep was stolen, it won’t be a lie. I feel like shit for ripping off Tom, but I have a game plan, and I’m sticking to it. One day, I’ll pay him back. I hand half the money to Natice.

  “What are you doing?” Natice pushes away the money.

  “Put it toward California.”

  “I didn’t do shit for it. You need it.”

  “It’s a gift. Besides, if the keys weren’t in it, I would’a needed your hot-wiring lesson to fall back on.”

  Natice laughs. “A’right. If you’re gonna put it that way… thanks, Ally.” She happily takes the money.

  “Now let’s go shopping.”

  Hours later, we end up at Lori’s house, drinking beer and enjoying the gifts Natice and I purchased with the money from my Jeep. Cracker is playing around with a digital video camer
a and recording Ronnie, who stuffs potato chips into her mouth.

  “Lemme see.” Ronnie turns the display on herself. “Damn I am fine.” She wedges another chip into her mouth.

  “Be honest. You all stole this shit.” Lori opens a carton of cigarettes.

  “Nope. We bought it,” Natice tells her.

  “K-Mart was having a sale,” I say.

  “Yeah. Blue Jeep special!” Natice jokes.

  We are surrounded by spent beer bottles as Ronnie entertains us with random childhood stories. The entire time, she holds Chanel, the Styrofoam head from her beauty school class. Cracker is recording with the camera when Ronnie turns Chanel toward the lens.

  “Say hi, Chanel! You’re on camera, girl!”

  “Gimme Chanel.” Natice drunkenly applies red lipstick to her Styrofoam lips. “There you go, girl. You lookin’ good!”

  Everyone laughs.

  “Let’s play a game!” I say.

  “We ain’t playing no Russian roulette,” Lori says.

  “Damn straight,” Natice comments.

  “Nah. It’s called ‘I never.’”

  “Boring-ass grade-school game,” Cracker says, aiming the camera at me.

  “Come on. It’s fun. You say something you never did, and if you did it, you drink.”

  “A’right! A’right! I’ll go first,” Ronnie says. “I never wet my pants in fifth grade and then said I spilled 7Up on myself.”

  Natice drinks. “You low down. You know that?” No one else drinks, and Ronnie busts up laughing.

  “Who says they spilled 7Up on their pants?” Lori smiles and looks happy.

  “Shit, why not Diet Coke?” Ronnie jokes.

  “I was traumatized, a’right! And there was a boy in the class that I liked. Thank you very much!”

  “There’s always a fucking boy,” Cracker says.

  “My turn. I never stole a car,” I say.

  “Wait, you just stole a Jeep. You can’t be saying I never,” Natice says.

  “Whatever. New rules.”

  “New rules?” Natice scrunches up her face. “A’right. Whatever, Cheerleader.”