CHAPTER 12
Kyle and Beauty
Friday—Mr. Veen hands out sheets with due dates on them. By next week, we have to decide on our theme for our study. By the week after, we have to have the introductory paragraph written. For the third week, we have to have topic sentences and supporting facts. Then we have another month to hand it in. Can people really write like this? Why does he have to break up the whole project into a math formula? Math, the subject I hate. There’s only one way I can handle this assignment. I have to write the whole thing first and then give him his lines week by week. It means I have to read the book faster and work harder than anyone else.
I groan, and Beauty jumps up, paws on my knee.
“It’s all right, girl. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
It feels like my whole future hangs on this one class, and whether I can keep up with it or not. Already I feel overwhelmed—down, down, at the bottom of a hole where I can’t claw my way up. I’m just overtired, I’m sure. Do I need more carbs? Or less? It’s such a pain.
“Forward, Beauty,” I say at the end of the class.
We leave the room and Beauty barks, tail slapping wildly against my leg. Why is she so happy?
I smell a baby-sweet scent and smile as I feel Liz’s lips on my cheek—soft and so gentle. It’s been a whole week, like forever. I can’t help myself, and I reach my arms around her and pull her close to me. What am I doing?
“Mr. Nicholson?” Damn, it’s Old Man Veen. “Would you like to explain to the office why you feel this behaviour is appropriate in the school hallway?”
Is that a real question, or is he sending me to talk to the principal? I have to think quickly. What if they call Elizabeth’s parents?
“Sorry, sir. It’s a scene from Romeo and Juliet. We were just practising.”
“Yes, well, I think you have it down perfectly now. No more practising in the hall.”
“No, sir,” I agree quickly and sigh with relief.
“Get to your next class.”
“Yes, sir. Forward, Beauty.”
Beauty seems to be drifting to one side. “No, girl, no!”
I turn to Elizabeth. “Walk with me,” I whisper.
She slips her hand in mine.
“Meet me after school in the parking lot,” I tell her. “We can ride to the park together. As long as I’m home by 3:45.”
“I’m grounded, too. But that’s okay, no one’s around till 6:00 tomorrow. Mom will never know.”
I get to my French class and drop Elizabeth’s hand. Beauty pulls towards her.
“Stop! No!” I yank at her leash.
I reach out and catch Elizabeth’s chin in my hand, leaning to kiss her. She pulls away quickly not giving me the chance.
“Meet you at my friend’s car,” I tell her. “You can’t miss it. It’s the only Mustang in the lot. Beauty, this way—no, forward.”
I can understand how Elizabeth mesmerizes the dog. I feel like I’m walking on a different level myself. There’s a layer of air between my feet and the ground.
“Beauty, I mean it now. Forward.”
Finally, she behaves the way she’s supposed to.
In French class, I get another novel to read. I put my hand up to call attention to my problem but after a second, I feel Madame Bouchard slipping what feels like an audiotape into my cassette player.
“From the Board office, for you,” she says. “Le roman.”
Not every teacher thinks I’m such a big inconvenience to teach. I sigh with relief and head for the door.
Ryan grabs me the moment I step into the hall.
“Let’s go, Music Man. We have a date with the beer fairy.”
“Yeah, yeah—let the dog do her job, will ya?” We take off down the stairs and out into the parking lot.
“High noon, warm day, let’s open up the top.”
By now, I know where to reach to pull the metal handle that unlocks the roof. There’s a soft electric hum, and I feel the sun on my face. The brakes squeal as we take off. Freedom, the wind—I love Ryan’s car. When we get to the beer store, the fun stops; it’s humiliation time again.
I stand near the door, and Ryan whistles to let me know someone’s close enough to hit on. It’s a long whistle, so I know it’s a guy. Darn, women are usually easier.
“Um, excuse me, sir. While you’re in there, could you buy me a case of twenty-four? They won’t let my dog in.” It’s a lie, but most people don’t know the difference. Beauty growls softly.
“Don’t I know you?” The guy’s voice sounds familiar but I can’t put a name to it. He snaps his fingers.
“You’re Elizabeth’s friend. I’m Rolph, her brother-in-law, sort of. You’re old enough for beer, and you’re hangin’ around Liz?”
Well, I’m not old enough, obviously, or I’d be in there myself. I grit my teeth and say nothing.
“Sure, I’ll get you some. Give me your money.”
I hand him Ryan’s cash, and Rolph is gone; it seems like forever. Finally, he slams a box into my chest. I grab a handle and let the case hang down heavy against my leg.
“Here. And your change.”
I let go of Beauty’s harness a moment so that I can hold out my hand. Then I tuck the coins he gives me back in my pocket.
“Look, Liz is really just a kid,” Rolph tells me, like an older brother.
I grip the beer case tightly so that my hand bunches into a fist.
“Find somebody your own age. She’s not your type.”
“Right, Beauty.” I wave my other hand in the direction she’s supposed to go. “Find the car, girl.”
“Good job.” Ryan takes the case and stuffs it in the trunk, at least I hear the lid slam.
“Don’t be mad. C’mon; it’s over now. We’ve got our brewskies.” I hear some bottles clinking.
“It’s not that… Why does everyone make such a big deal over Liz being young?”
“I dunno. Maybe, ’cause you look older. Notice no one gives you a hard time about buying beer.”
I hear him twist a bottle open and swallow.
“Ahh. She…well…she’s eye candy, I’ll give her that. But she’s got that baby face, too.” Ryan swallows again.
“She looks more like a grade school girl.”
“But there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“Got that right.”
Another bottle twists open, and he puts it in my hands. “Might as well drink up and enjoy.”
I hate when he drinks in the car, and I don’t usually drink along with him anytime. It screws up my blood sugar—those sharp ups and downs could kill me. But now, in the middle of a school day, with the top down, I drink down the bitter suds—pure suicide. It feels right. There’s so much I can’t do about so many things. What’s one bottle of beer in the bigger scheme of things?
When we’re done, we head back to school, and I suffer through math and history a lot faster and easier knowing I’m seeing Liz afterwards.
At the end of the day, when I usually hang back until the halls have cleared for me to manoeuvre, I get Ryan to help Beauty and me get to the parking lot quicker.
“Do I look okay?” I ask him as we step out the doors.
“Perfect. And she’s waiting. So smile.”
I can’t help but do anything else. It’s like the sun is rising inside me. My skin turns warm and inside, my darkness brightens. Liz touches my arm, and my whole face cracks open into a grin.
“All set?” I ask.
“Brought the Rollerblades. I don’t know if it will be like surfing in Hawaii, but that hill in the park makes for a great ride.”
She remembers about my surfing in Waikiki from just a couple of lines in the song I sang at Dog Guide graduation!
“If it even comes close, I’ll be happy. It’s not like I’ll ever surf again.”
“You don’t think so?” Liz asks.
“I’ll slide in the back to give you and Beauty room.”
That’s the trouble with the M
ustang. It’s a two-door with a really uncomfortable backseat. I consider sliding in beside her, but that would make Ryan the chauffeur. We take a while climbing in. Ryan slides the roof down again, but it’s a little cooler this late in the day. As we drive, Elizabeth and I have to shout at each other in order to hear.
“You know some of the CNIB gang go downhill skiing, with two-way radios. I bet you can do that with surfing, too,” she calls.
“Wow, that would be great.” Maddie would have never suggested a thing like that. She was always trying to stop me from doing things that might get me hurt.
“Did you say it was too late?” Liz calls back to me.
“No, it would be great. To surf with radios I mean.” She cups her hand to her ear.
“Never mind.” We coast through the wind in silence now.
A few minutes later, Ryan parks the Mustang, and while I can take off my own shoes and stuff my feet into the boot of the Rollerblades, I can’t do up the laces.
“Here, let me.” I inhale her scent as I feel the boots tighten. When we’re all done, I wonder what to do with Beauty.
“Why don’t you take off her harness? Let her be a regular dog for a change.”
“You know we’re not supposed to, unless it’s an enclosed area.”
Still—a regular dog, I twinge at the phrase, and I unharness Beauty. Her tail slaps at my leg happily. It’s obvious I stop her from having a regular life.
“She’s good with Rollerblading, but we’ll make her wait at the top of the hill so she doesn’t trip us up. How do you want to do this? Want to hold my hand or grab onto my waist?”
“I like the waist idea.”
She immediately puts my hands at the top of her hips, where there’s a smooth curve. I take a deep breath to keep myself from sliding my hands up and down.
“You can just coast behind me, or push off to the side with each foot. Kinda like ice skating.”
We start off, and it’s all I can do at first, just to coast and feel the path rumble underneath my wheels. Liz gets ahead, making my arms stretch long, but then I push off and bump into her. It’s like a lightning jolt along my body, wherever hers touches mine.
“Okay, now.” I hear gentle laughter in her voice. “We’re going up the hill, I need you to push.”
My calves strain and burn as we climb upward.
“Beauty, stay,” Liz says.
“I think you need to just hold my hand here, to get the full sensation.” She pulls my hands off her waist and holds onto one. “Ready?”
“I guess.” It’s not like surfing at all, where I felt a rush of power under my feet that my balance controlled. I feel like I’m hurtling through time and space far too fast. Like the way I feel about Elizabeth.
“We’re coming to the grate now. Hold on!”
I grip her hand tightly but when my wheels catch on the new surface I swing round and smack into Elizabeth hard. She falls backwards and I fall on top of her.
CHAPTER 13
Elizabeth and Magic
I tumble backwards, half on the pavement, half on the grass, and he lands on top of me.
My elbows smart, right through my jacket. My butt throbs. But none of that matters. It’s the weight of Kyle on top of me that burns into me.
“Are you okay?” I gasp.
“Oh, yeah.” He grabs my chin with his hand and smothers me with his kiss. He presses down on me even more, and I don’t want to get up. I can feel my own heart beat, a slow hard pump, or is that his? Everything feels so good.
“Kyle, are you okay?” I hear a little kid’s voice from a distance. “Your hand’s bleeding.”
Kyle lifts himself off me, and I see a boy about ten years old with pale skin and wide green eyes watching me suspiciously. He could be Kyle’s younger brother, apart from the eye colour.
“Donald?” Kyle says, his voice husky.
Donald’s dark hair sticks up a bit in the back and is badly in need of a cut. It gives him a neglected, forlorn look.
“I saw you fall. Does it hurt?” He points to Kyle’s hand.
“No, it’s nothing,” Kyle answers. “I just landed on this bottle cap.”
“But you’re really bleeding!” I reach into my pocket for a tissue and press it to the wound.
“Oh, stop it! I’ve been around enough nurses in my life.”
He shakes me loose and blood drips from his hand.
Donald looks on with eyes as wide as saucers.
“Kyle, keep the tissue on, please.”
“Fine,” he grumbles.
“You were kissing,” Donald accuses us now.
“So what? Listen, don’t you have kids your own age to hang with?”
Donald hangs his head and kicks at the ground but, of course, Kyle doesn’t see the effect his words have.
“Hey, do you want to see Beauty do an Elvis impersonation?” I ask him.
“Yeah, sure,” Donald answers.
“Okay, sing with me. ‘You ain’t nothing but a hound dog…’”
Kyle joins us, and he sounds just like Elvis. Beauty, on cue, waggles her butt and curls her lip over her incisor. Donald laughs and swivels his hips along with Beauty.
“She sure is a smart dog,” he says when we’re done.
“And Liz trained him; she owned him before me. Then she gave Beauty back to Canine Vision Canada, and they gave her to me.”
“You gave up a smart dog like this?” Donald looks at me as if I’m crazy.
“Yeah, but now I’m friends with Kyle, and it doesn’t feel like I’ve given her up at all.”
Donald shrugs his shoulders. “Does she do other tricks? Can I throw a stick into the water and will she fetch it?”
“No,” Kyle says sharply. “She’s my dog and she’s only supposed to do stuff for me.” Kyle sounds like a different person suddenly, snappish and angry.
“Kyle?” I touch his arm.
“It’s okay. I’m good. I’ve gotta get home now. I’ll see you on the bus, Donald.”
Kyle turns away from Donald who walks away, hands in his pocket.
“You kind of hurt his feelings,” I say. I look back at Donald, shuffling across the path over Little Stone Bridge, head down, hands in his pocket.
“Well, he can’t go on thinking I’m his best friend. And I want to spend time with you, not him.”
“It wouldn’t have killed you to be nice to him. I used to always tag around with my sister, you know, looking up to her, wanting to be like her. I know what it’s like to be treated like a pest.”
“Ah, you’re a big softie.” He rubs my arm. “We’d better head back. It’s almost time to go.”
We skate back up the hill with Beauty still on the loose. She bounds along the grass at the side of the path, her tongue hanging sideways out of her mouth. I’ve been here a hundred times before, only now it’s all different. The orange and red leaves seem brighter, the clouds more fluffy. The road under my wheels hums like it’s happy, too. And the wind tugs gently though my hair. At the top, I hesitate for a moment. I’ve fallen on this hill a few times. Kyle smiles up at the sky. At least that’s the way it seems because of the way his eyes look upwards.
We stop at a park bench for a last kiss.
Someone coughs nearby. “Well, just look at the time.”
Ryan interrupts us. “Did you say you had to be home for 3:45?”
It’s already 3:40 on my watch. We quickly take off our Rollerblades and harness Beauty back up. We have to hope Kyle’s mom doesn’t call, bang on 3:45.
“Is it okay if he takes me home first, Liz?” Kyle asks as we settle back in the car.
“Sure. I’m going to beat my mother home no problem.”
It doesn’t feel as good taking Kyle home. With the top up, the car turns into a dark cave. I sit in the back, far away from Kyle. My elbows and my tailbone throb now from our fall, the skin around my mouth burns from Kyle’s stubble scraping across it. Inside I feel a little dirty, like I’ve cheated on a test or stolen from the schoo
l Readathon money. Unfair as Mom is, I’m cheating on her.
But then the car stops, and Kyle gives me a long, gentle kiss before he leaves.
It’s all good again.
CHAPTER 14
Kyle and Beauty
Back at home in my room, I try to scan the Blindness book into my computer. My mother will never have enough time to read the whole book to me. I work as fast as I can to make up for my time at the park, but my messenger dings, and I can’t ignore it. Can it be Liz?
“Comatose King: Come to my party on the weekend. You know the girls love your music. My cousin’s coming. You’ll like her.”
He’s trying to run my life, just like my mother, making me give up Liz and go with someone else. Beauty snuffles into my hand, trying to pull my attention to her.
“I’m grounded. Remember? See ya.”
I hit Enter and go back to scanning. It’s such a time-sucking activity. Can I listen to the disk of Lord of the Flies at the same time? I just need a quick review of the book after all. Yeah, I decide, but as I fumble for the recorder in my backpack, the messenger dings again. Shut up Ryan, I think, but then I hear Perfect Paul read Liz’s words.
“Red: Hey, Kyle, did you look after that cut?”
Just like Mom, just like Maddie, she’s worrying about my health. Something flares up inside me. At least Maddie has an excuse, she wants to go into medicine, and Mom, well, she is my mother. I hit the keys angrily.
Music Man: Enough with the cut already, I’m fine.
Tape recorder in hand, I drape the headset over my neck while I paw my desk for the audiobook.
Perfect Paul starts up again.
“Red: Just wanted to remind you to clean it. That bottle cap looked pretty rusty.”
Maybe if it was her voice talking to me I wouldn’t feel so annoyed, but Perfect Paul lecturing me really grates. I ignore the message. The thing is, I didn’t clean the stupid cut, and it does hurt. But I want to get this book scanned now, while I listen to the audio version.
“Red: So was Rollerblading like surfing?”
For a moment, I let myself go back to heaven, my hands on her waist, the movement under my feet, the wind against my face. My annoyance melts, and I tap out a message on the keyboard.
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