“Where’s Laura now?”
“Still with a foster family.”
“That’s awful,” I say. “I mean, not that she’s in foster care. Just the whole story.”
“No, it’s awful she’s in foster care too.”
Jay looks away again, and I study his face. From the side, his face isn’t so hard. He looks younger almost. When he looks back at me, I glance away.
“Your house was empty before you moved in,” he says. “I liked to sleep on the floor in my old room and pretend everything was still normal. I liked to pretend Laura was sleeping next door, and my parents were still down the hall. When your family moved in, I slept at the shelter and went to the house during the day. I just couldn’t stop going.”
“Then why’d you say you wanted it gone?”
He looks down. “I don’t know. It was too much, I think. I just wanted to make it all disappear.”
I look away. I don’t want him to see I know what he means –if a fire would have made everything that happened in Tulsa disappear, I would have done it too.
But it still didn’t give him the right to burn down my house and take everything good about moving here away from me. Now we lost our house, and I’m not even sure if Melody and Taylor will still be friends with me.
“I should go,” I say, getting up, exhaustion settling into my bones.
Jay doesn’t say anything – just goes back to twisting his button. I want to tell him to stop – that he’s probably going to make it fall off, but I think I’ve already said more than I meant to.
I’m almost at the door when his chair scrapes against the linoleum.
“Wait,” he says.
I stop, but I don’t turn around. I’m afraid of looking at his eyes again.
“Are you going to come back here?”
I stare at the door. He already pleaded guilty. He admitted to doing it. I have no reason to come back here. But I nod to the door anyway, not sure if he sees me.
****
When I get back to the hotel my parents are packing up. Not that there’s much to pack except what we’ve bought the past couple days. I don’t even know where the suitcase they’re packing everything into came from.
My dad looks up as I close the door. “The rental is ready,” he says. “And I’ve found us a few houses to look at. Once the insurance all goes through we should be back to normal in a few months.” He’s smiling, folding one of the shirts I bought him, and I wish I could be as happy as he is. “I told you it would all work out.”
I nod and try to smile. I don’t know how to tell my parents, who seem so happy right now, that everything in my life just got more screwed up.
My dad walks closer to me. “Next time, don’t keep stuff like that from us. You can tell us things. We could have gotten that boy some help before he got into this mess.”
I nod again, even though he’s wrong. Jay was beyond helping even before our house burned down. What he needs is a friend. I just don’t think I’m the right candidate. I grab my own clothes from one of the drawers and set them in the suitcase with my parents’ things. “Done,” I say.
When we moved from our old house, it took me weeks to pack all my things. Somehow I don’t miss all the stuff anymore. I felt empty when I watched the house burn down – like everything I ever owned was gone. Like a part of myself belongs to my things. But now I feel free. I can finally start over. If only I hadn’t already screwed everything up.
“Guess what?” my mom says, zipping up the suitcase.
I sit down on the edge of one of the beds. “What?”
“We’re taking you shopping before we go to the rental house. You can get anything you want. Some people donated money to help us get back on our feet.”
“That’s nice,” I say, but I’m having problems faking my enthusiasm. The last thing I feel like doing after my day is shopping.
But I go through the motions anyway, picking things out at the mall while my mother helps. I stare at myself in one of the fitting room mirrors and wonder where the community was when Jay’s family was torn apart? When they lost their parents? When he lost his sister? All we lost were things and people were there, ready to get us more.
I hold a purple shirt up to my chest in the mirror and wonder if it’s because it’s easier to deal with things. All they have to do is give us some money, or give us new stuff. But how do you give someone their family back?
Chapter Ten
I wake up in a strange bed in a room with bright pink walls and squint at the light pouring in from the window. The rental house my dad found belongs to a family who is overseas for the year. I had the choice between the bright pink little girl’s room or a teenage boy’s room with posters of heavy metal bands all over the walls.
I roll over to avoid the mob of dolls staring at me from the bookshelf. Dolls creep me out. I used to put mine in the closet at night so I wouldn’t have to see their empty eyes. I’d dream they came alive in the closet – that their eyes would shine and blink and smile. But every time I opened the door again, their eyes were still sad and lifeless. It broke my heart every morning. Now I feel them staring daggers into my back, forcing me to get out of bed and face whatever’s waiting for me at school.
I crawl out and catch a glimpse of my eyebrows in the mirror – or what’s left of them, anyway. Little tufts of hair stick out haphazardly in every direction between bald spots. I grab my eyebrow pencil and fill them in, then cut my nails down as short as I can get them. I try pulling one again. It’s harder, but not impossible.
****
When I get to World Issues, I open my notebook and start writing out the lyrics of a song I heard this morning so I look busy. I’m almost at the final verse when Taylor walks in.
My pen freezes over the page.
I should wave and pretend it’s no big deal. But when I turn around, he’s bent over, unzipping his backpack. I concentrate on scribbling down the next verse, but I’ve lost the song in my head and can’t remember the words.
Then, Melody walks in.
I smile, but she walks right past the empty seat beside me and heads for the back corner.
My heart sinks. I steal a glance at Taylor. This time he’s the one looking down at his notebook.
He told her.
I sink lower in my chair, trying to disappear.
****
At lunch I sit alone in the cafeteria for the first time since Tulsa. I find a seat by a window and try to focus on staring outside instead of at the table Melody and Taylor are sitting at. I try not to watch when Taylor throws a fry at Melody and she laughs and throws one back.
Victoria glances over at me and says something to Melody, who is doing her best to pretend I don’t exist. I pick at the crusts of my sandwich. Why would Victoria encourage me to go for Taylor, when there’s obviously something with him and Melody? Melody’s her friend, she obviously knew it. I want to glare at her, but instead, I stare down at the table. Did she think it would be funny? Or does she not want me to be friends with Melody? I try to focus on eating my sandwich, but I can’t help it – I glance over at the table again. This time, I almost see Julie instead of Melody.
The first time Julie didn’t sit with me at lunch, I tried to eat in the cafeteria alone. She kept glancing over at me – shooting me dirty looks. Warning me to stay away, like my ridicule was contagious. Now though, I almost picture something different in her glances. Sympathy maybe? Hurt?
But no, I think, blinking away the image. I was the one who was hurt. She was the one who left me. I shove my sandwich back in my bag and take out a magazine instead.
In art class, Victoria avoids me. She spends the whole period flirting with the guy who kept trying to peek at her chest. By the time I get through my last class, I somehow feel more alone than I ever did in Tulsa.
****
I wait until Saturday to see Jay again, and even then I try to talk myself out of it. But I can’t get the sound of his voice when he asked me to come back out of m
y head. So I stop and get two coffees on the way and try not to think about what I’m actually doing.
When I sign in, the lady at the desk just points me toward the visitors’ room.
“Sorry, no food or drinks allowed,” she says. I take a sip of my coffee and then toss them both in the garbage.
I scan the visitors’ room for a table and freeze when I spot Jay. I swallow. Did he wait here for me during visiting hours the past two days? I watch him for a few seconds. I could still leave. He wouldn’t know I was even here.
“You’re here,” he says, turning around.
I jump. “Yes,” I say. “I’m here.” I walk over and sit. Neither of us speaks. He bows his head a little so his hair falls in his face, and I sit on my hands to resist the urge to tuck it out of the way. Instead, I look down at the table and then glance around the room, pretending to be interested in the giant dragonfly tattoo the girl to my left has on her shoulder.
“I have a day pass,” he says after a while. “We can get out of here for a bit.”
I glance out the window. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Okay then. Want to play cards?”
He walks over to a shelf behind us and grabs a deck. He starts shuffling them, so quickly I get the feeling he plays a lot of cards around here. I hate card games.
I wait until he’s shuffled the whole deck and starts dealing them. “Fine,” I say, tossing my cards back to him. “Let’s go out.”
Jay stares at me, then throws the cards on the shelf behind him. I watch while he talks to the guard and Cheryl, and then signs some papers at the desk. He glances over at me, as if checking I haven’t bolted, and then takes off his button-down juvie shirt, revealing a tight-fitting white shirt underneath. I try not to stare at the muscles in his arms.
“We have six hours,” he says, tossing his button-down on a chair by the entrance.
I swallow. “Six hours? I don’t know if I can stay out that long. I have a bunch of homework.”
“That’s what Sunday’s for, isn’t it?”
I hesitate by the door. “I guess. Aren’t you going to change your pants?”
He holds the door open for me, and I pause for a second before walking out. “I don’t have any left,” he says. “They took my other pants as evidence after the fire.”
“Oh.” I tuck my hands in my pockets and hurry to catch up with him. “I didn’t know you could get day passes from here.”
“Good behavior,” Jay says. “And I had my psych exam yesterday. Apparently I’m not a threat. Once you have that, you can apply for day passes. Besides, I probably wouldn’t even be in here if my parents were still alive. I would have gotten community service and house arrest or something. But no foster family will want me now, so they’re sticking me here until they can get rid of me.”
“How long is that?”
“I’ll be eighteen in a few months. Then I’ll be on my own again.”
I nod and follow him through the parking lot, until I realize I don’t know where we’re going. “Am I driving?” I ask.
“Well, I don’t have a car. So unless you want to walk somewhere, I guess you are.”
“What’s in the bag?” I didn’t notice it when I came into the visitors’ room, but he’s carrying a small, black backpack. It looks light, like there’s nothing in it.
Jay shrugs. “Just some things for today.”
I stop on the pavement. “What kind of things?”
“Don’t worry,” he says, looking over his shoulder. “We’re not going to start any fires or anything.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “You know what? I think I’m just going to go home. This was a bad idea.”
Jay turns around. “It was a joke, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
I brush past him toward my car. “I think we’re done here. Thank you for pleading guilty, and I’m sorry about your family. Nice to meet you.”
“I didn’t mean it, okay?” Jay shoves his hands in his pockets, watching me. I get in the car and slam my door. My fingers shake on the keys, and they slip in the crack between my seat and the center console. When I fish them out again, he’s still there, leaning against the hood of another car, his eyes fixed on the pavement.
I roll down my window. “Where are you going to go?” I say.
He looks up. “What?”
“Where will you go? If I leave?”
“Back inside.”
“You won’t just go out by yourself? Have a free day?”
“No, probably not.”
I slide the car back in park. “Get in.”
“What?”
“I said get in. Hurry up before I change my mind.”
Jay smiles. It’s the first time I’ve seen it, and it scares me – the way it softens me. Makes me feel vulnerable. “Where to?” I ask, when he gets inside.
“Joey’s Diner.”
“Seriously? That’s where you want to spend your big free day?” I’ve never been inside Joey’s, and for good reason. It’s in an old dilapidated building on Main Street with never more than two cars out front. At night, only the first two letters light up.
“The food they serve here is awful.”
“Joey’s it is.” I put the car in drive again and pull out of the parking spot.
Jay drums his hands on his knees. “Would you mind if I drive?” he asks.
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
“I just haven’t driven in so long. I miss it. I used to drive my mom’s car, and then they repossessed it with the house.”
I sigh. “Are you trying to give me a guilt trip?”
“What? No. I just –”
“Because I’m doing you enough of a favor right now.”
“I know. And I –”
I shove the car into park at the edge of the parking lot and swing open my door. “Fine,” I say. “Go.”
He opens the passenger door and pauses. “Are you sure?”
“You have your license, right?”
“Yeah.”
I walk around to the passenger side and pass him in front of the car. He’s smiling again. I try not to look. The words bad idea keep replaying in my mind until it almost sounds like a song. Jay pushes the seat back to make room for his legs. My eyes trail up to his arms again. The muscles must be from the roofing work. He glances over, and I look away.
Jay puts down all the windows and takes the highway, even though it would be faster to just go through town. The wind whips my hair around like it’s a weapon. I search for a hair tie until I give up and just hold it behind my head.
The silence sits between us like a third passenger. I don’t try to fill it and neither does Jay. I’m too busy praying the car doesn’t crash.
I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until we pull in front of Joey’s and all the air inside me lets go. My grip on the armrest loosens. I’ll take him back after this. I’ve done more than enough for him already.
Jay gets out first and tosses me the keys. “Thanks,” he says. I try not to meet his eyes.
The inside of Joey’s is better than the outside, but not by much. It reeks like cigarettes despite the clearly marked no-smoking sign on the door. They don’t even have waitresses inside, so we go up to the counter to order our food. I’m not hungry, but I order an egg sandwich anyway. I pull out my wallet to pay, but all I have left are a few dimes. Crap.
“I’ve got hers too,” Jay says, motioning to me.
My face burns. “I don’t need it. You can cancel my order.”
“No way,” Jay says. “You’re not going to just sit there, watching me eat.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “How do you have any money?”
“I worked full-time before the fire. And now they give me a bit of money to clean at the center.”
I nod because I’m not sure what else to do, and we wait for our food in silence. Then there are a few moments of shuffling food around on the tray, trying to sort out whose drink is whose, an
d silence again.
I play with my straw, and it sends a squeaking noise between us. “So what did you want to do today?” I ask.
“Go see my sister. She has an extra credit art class at her school that finishes at three. We have to be there before she gets on the bus so I can talk to her before she has to walk home. I’ll only have maybe five minutes.”
“Can’t you just visit her at her foster home?”
“They won’t let me. A brother with a record isn’t a good influence, I guess.”
“So you did something before then? To get you in trouble?” I think of the story Taylor told me about stealing money. It must have been true.
“Yeah,” he says. I wait while he takes a long sip of his orange juice, but he doesn’t say anything else.
“So you’re not allowed to visit her at all? Are they even allowed to do that? You’re her brother.”
“They like to think they can.” He folds a hash brown in half and shoves the whole thing in his mouth, chews a few times and swallows. I force my eyes away from his lips and take a small bite of my own meal.
“How old is she?”
“Thirteen,” he says. “She has five more years in the system if I don’t get her out of there when I turn eighteen.”
I nod and take another bite of my hash brown. I’m still not hungry, but I polish off everything anyway and take my time sipping my juice while Jay stares out at the parking lot.
“Let’s go,” I say finally. Jay reaches across the table and grabs the keys just before I do. “I think I should drive now,” I say. But he doesn’t hear me, or pretends not to. I take a breath and follow him.
My fingers cross inside my pockets. Please don’t pass my parents somewhere. I’ll be grounded for life, I’m sure. He rolls the windows down again, but I can’t bring myself to let go of the armrest to hold my hair back.
After ten minutes, he steers in the direction of my old neighborhood, and I swipe the hair out of my face. His grip on the steering wheel gets tighter, and by the time he pulls to a stop in front of the roped-off area, I worry there will be a permanent indent of his hands.
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