Bold

by Julia Swift

  We finally cross the road that runs over the arroyo along the bottom of the mountain, head into a neighborhood with houses that look like where I used to live back in Pennsylvania. These huge homes in the hills overlooking the valley don’t have sidewalks out front, but they have killer views of a man-made lake in the middle of the desert and sleek expensive cars identified by numbers as a part of their name parked in the driveway. On my street, the cars have more generic names. I tell myself it’s easier to be where I am now, living where car names actually make sense, but I don’t buy it.

  The gate on the side of the house is open.

  Out back, there’s a crowd. I’m a pretty social guy, but it’s amazing how many people I don’t know. I see Amber and her newspaper groupies crowding around the patio furniture. I check to see if Sasha is here. She said she’d meet me, but before I can do a loop, Amber waves me over to talk. I introduce Griff, but can tell right away he isn’t into Amber. Griff tells me when she walks away he thought talking to her was like the interview he had at the amusement park for a summer job. It sure didn’t feel like an invitation to stick his tongue in her mouth. He doesn’t realize that in her world, that’s one and the same thing.

  We snag sodas as Sasha approaches. She and I get real close, but before I can give her a kiss, she backs away, notices Griff.

  “This is Griffin, Griff, a friend of mine from back home.”

  “So, Sasha are you like Russian or something?”

  “Tell me Griffin what it’s like to spend all day howling at the moon and flying from skyscraper to skyscraper?”

  Both smile at each other, that’s the one question they are always asked.

  “How long are you here for?”

  “Couple of days. Or until I can no longer stand being around Will.”

  “Which could be anytime now, really.”

  Griff smiles at me when Sasha’s not looking, he approves. He spots Carmen sitting by a stone firepit, talking to a girl in a foreign language. He can’t take his eyes off of her.

  “Spanish?”

  “Portuguese.”

  “I didn’t know you and Carmen were close.”

  I hear a little jealousy in Sasha’s tone, and I like it.

  “I really love... Portuguese.”

  Sasha takes my teasing and bumps my side in protest.

  Seeing Sasha so close to me, Griff is definitely feeling three’s a crowd. He shoots me a look, asking if it’s cool, if Carmen’s cool.

  “Tell her -- você tem as orelhas bonitas.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She has beautiful eyes.”

  Griff practices a couple of times. He leaves to make his move.

  “Oh no, I think I told him the wrong word. I meant to say olhos not orelhas.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “He’s telling Carmen she has beautiful ears.”

  Sasha laughs. I kiss her ear.

  “I should’ve told Griff the word for lips. Couldn’t mess that one up.”

  “You didn’t mention he was coming.”

  “It was a total surprise. He came with my dad’s friend Bill.”

  “Your dad must be psyched to see one of his old friends. Are they having a guys’ night out?”

  I hate lying. I don’t even like saying “Dad” out loud.

  “I think they’re gonna lay low, hang out.”

  How can I change the subject? I remember when Sasha said she’d come tonight, she wanted to see what the houses on this side of the town looked like from the inside.

  “Wanna check out the house?”

  I walk her indoors through the kitchen, pretending like I actually know where everything is, even though I’ve never been here. The rooms are giant, but pretty empty. Minimalist. I don’t even see a television. When we get to the foyer, she notices a three-foot-high, colorful, carved, wooden head of a crazy-looking native.

  “That would freak me out every morning when I came down the stairs.”

  “In Brazil, lots of homes have them to ward off evil spirits, keep people safe.”

  “Maybe I should find one for my brother.”

  We enter the family room and Sasha is immediately drawn to a mosaic on a bookshelf.

  “Oh wow.”

  It’s made of the bluest blue butterfly wings and when you look at it from different angles, it shimmers.

  “It’s cool and cruel.”

  At some point on the explora-tour, Sasha and I start holding hands. I kiss the back of her neck and she slides her hand underneath the back of my shirt. I flinch, she pulls away.

  “Your hand’s cold.”

  It really isn’t. It’s warm like her neck, her arms, her wrists. But I can’t tell her the truth. When I was little, I used to hold my hand up to my dad’s birthmark on his back. Last year, when I heard my mom describe the birthmark over the phone, I knew it was to identify his body. Now, when someone touches my back, it wigs me out. It makes me feel open to attack, kind of like how some people have to sleep with their head against an inside wall facing the door. So they can defend themselves. I think of my back like that. A weakness, a sensitive spot, something to protect.

  I ask her to try again. She’s not sure, but I promise her I won’t jump. She blows into her hand to warm it up before she sticks it under my shirt, touching my skin. I wonder if she notices my arm hair standing straight up? I hope not. I hate that I’m like this. Before she can notice, I kiss her, we make-out by the washing machine. Her lips feel softer than before.

  “You taste like a vanilla.”

  Usually, her lips just taste like her. Is she wearing makeup tonight? It’s the first time I’ve seen her with it. I should tell her she looks good. Or I should’ve said something when I first saw her, now she’ll think I’m using compliments to get what I want. I know, I’ll surprise her.

  “Meet me out back, I’ve got a present.”

  She pretends to give me a kiss, but teases me, smiles and darts out the back door. I walk through the house looking for something to give her. A flower is lame. I open the fridge, but there’s only normal stuff, nothing romantic like strawberries. Tied around candlestick I find a ribbon with Portuguese words, their version of a friendship bracelet. You wrap it around your wrist twice, then tie it with three knots. With each knot, you make a wish and, according to the legend, when each knot comes undone, your wish comes true. I wore one for almost a year and everything I wanted happened. I didn’t think to wish for my dad to be safe. I always assumed he would be.

  As I make my way through the patio in search of Sasha, I bump into Amber.

  “Will, what’s this I hear about you tangling with cops?”

  I spot Sasha on the other side of the swimming pool.

  “I was falsely accused. It’s all straightened out now.”

  “Sounds like the makings of a great exposé on the police department’s abuse of power.

  Amber is interested in me writing another story? Sasha can wait a few seconds. The more stories Amber assigns me, the better it will look for journalism school. As I half-listen, I catch Griff nearby, flirting with Carmen. He’s leaning into her, she’s not moving. It’s all about the body language. Everything is going his way until some pasty-looking sophomore vomits in the pool, chunks floating and all. Carmen has to deal with the mess. Griff spots Sasha standing alone and keeps her company. From where I am, I can only imagine what they’re discussing. It’s like I’m newly deaf. I see their lips moving, but I have no idea what they’re saying. Are they talking about me?

  25

  Sasha

  “She’s after him, but don’t worry, she’s not his type.”

  Griffin totally caught me staring at Will like a jealous girlfriend. Which I guess I am, sitting here waiting for my big surprise, and all I see is Will with another girl. Maybe he’s asking her for help with his plan. Or maybe he’s asking her for advice. I totally buy Will wanting to do something nice for me, something special but not knowing what a girl would want, so
he asks the first girl he sees. Or maybe she’s really good friends with Carmen and she’d know where Carmen kept stuff in the house. Not that I have any idea what he’d need. Food? Paint? Maybe he will surprise me with something I’ll remember when I’m old and gray, or something I can keep. I don’t mean like jewelry. Guys think girls want that, and I guess some do. But I want something that shows he thinks about me and what I want.

  Griffin said Will’s type. That implies there’s been more than one, maybe lots. I wonder what Will’s type is. Does he always go after the freaky misfit?

  “What is his type?”

  “All I know is he always ends up with the girl I want to be with.”

  It wasn’t a come on. It was really genuine and genuinely jealous, and I’m trying not to blush but I have no control. I focus on Griffin and decide not to think about Will. I want his surprise to be a surprise.

  “It makes sense we’d like the same girls. We spent every second together growing up. There were only so many hot counselors at camp and our prep school was pretty small. And Amber tries so hard she makes me tired and you just make me…”

  He smiles slyly. His version of sexy I’m guessing.

  Okay, now it feels like a come on, like he and Will practiced how to talk to girls together, and they should have had someone else there to go “whoa dudes, you got it all wrong.” But Will’s got more going on and this is his friend. I can use him to learn inside information about Will without Will thinking I’m getting too serious.

  “So you knew his best friend?”

  He’s looking at me like I’m actually the stupidest person on the planet.

  “I am his best friend.”

  “Now. But I mean, before his friend died.”

  “That’s what he told you?”

  “I’m sorry, you were probably close with his best friend, too. I understand if you don’t want to talk about it.”

  “He said his best friend died?”

  “That’s why he moved here, to make a new start.”

  “I did not die and I’m kind of freaked he said I did. Like he put some curse on me.”

  “So there was no other best friend?”

  I know the answer, I don’t have to wait for Griffin to say it. I head toward Will, I want to hear Will say it.

  He lied to me? Why? The first words out of his mouth to me were bull? The old me would run away. Or run to Lisa. There she is, standing in the corner, alone. I can tell she’s trying to flirt with a guy across the pool. She looks desperate. Did I look like that when Will met me? Is that why he made up some lie to lure me in so I’d think he was a nice, understanding, sensitive guy? Lisa sees me looking and heads this way, but I turn around. I have to talk to Will. I’m not the old me anymore, and I’m not ending up in the corner with Lisa.

  I approach Will. Amber looks at me like I’m interrupting. I don’t care.

  “Why did you lie to me?”

  My voice is shaking. I really don’t want to be here, but I know I have to ask him or I’ll drive myself crazy obsessing over it. Then I won’t be able to sleep. And then when I finally fall asleep, I’ll have another nightmare. And then I’ll have to go back to that group, and if the choice is being in that group or standing here shaking in front of Will, I don’t like the choices, but I’m staying.

  “Griffin is alive, I was talking to him. He was flirting with me.”

  “He was flirting with you?”

  That’s what he cares about? Maybe it was all an act, a dare. That’s why he wanted to go into Carmen’s house alone with me. He probably wanted to prove to his buddy from home that he could get some girl, any girl. Amber finally gets the hint and leaves.

  “He’s alive. Your best friend is right over there. Your best friend who died last year.”

  I can see Will pulling away from me. It’s not like with his back when I touched him earlier. That was a flinch, a surprise reaction. This seems like it was building for a while. Like the Will I knew is getting smaller and smaller and this other guy, this other Will who is stone-faced and empty, he’s taking over.

  26

  Will

  Griff did not die last year. My dad did not die last year, either. The Oldest Woman on the planet died. A baseball hall of famer died. But not my dad. He didn’t die… he was murdered. There’s a difference.

  I’m going to find Griff and kill him.

  “Will?”

  People are starting to stare.

  “Griff’s a joker, he messes with people. You get to know him better, you’ll see.”

  “He wasn’t joking, he was pissed.”

  When you lie, the more you talk, the more your options become limited. It’s like being sucked into a vortex and nobody can save you.

  27

  Sasha

  “You made up the whole story? So I’d think you’re deep? Sensitive? Needy? You are needy, in need of a punch in the face.”

  But I can’t do it. Maybe I could push him into the pool. But then even more people would stare and talk about it for months. Every eye at the party is focused on me. I wanted people to see me, I got what I wanted. I’m far from invisible now. And, suddenly, I want a hole in the ground to swallow me and transport me to a different world. And that’s it really, I don’t want to disappear, just be seen by different people. These people are not worthy of me. I look around the crowd, all waiting to watch me lose my temper. I said I wanted to hit him, now all they see is a hysterical, out of control girl. And I am pissed. And I am rocked off what little center I have. But I am not hysterical. Just burning mad.

  I’m walking away. Lisa’s walking toward me. I don’t want to talk to her. Crazy girls are always comforted by their friends as they slink off into high school infamy. That’s not me. Walking away is the strong, brave thing to do. Right?

  Me on my own again.

  28

  Will

  I want to catch up to Sasha, explain my side of the story, but no way am I groveling in front of everyone.

  I look for Griff. He’s heading inside with Carmen. I don’t want to go back in the house. I want to leave, but I can’t bolt without him. He has no clue how to make it back to my place. I’ve never understood how a guy who can make his way through complicated video game mazes while fighting demons and assassins can end up so lost when it comes to knowing how to get from point a to point b in real life.

  I do a loop inside the house. My sneakers stick to the hardwood floor, a true sign of a successful party. Another is when people pair up, which they’re pretty much doing all over the place. Nobody looks as I crunch my way toward the kitchen, they are all too busy groping.

  I walk through the rooms I’ve been in before, then head upstairs because a girl with a pierced tongue thought she saw Griff. One by one, I knock on closed doors using our special knock. I wait, get no answer. At the end of the hallway, I step out onto a balcony. I can see the pool. It’s close enough to the house that I wonder if I could reach it by jumping.

  “I could make it.”

  I glance to my right. Amber stands next to me, also sizing up the distance from the balcony to the pool. No way she’s an extreme sports fanatic.

  “Maybe if the house was on fire.”

  “I’ve done it before. Not here, but other places.”

  She’s kidding, isn’t she?

  “The biggest problem would be making sure we got enough speed.”

  We?

  “Otherwise, you could end up with some nasty stitches.“

  Amber is pretty hot and it would be amazing to see her try. She stares over the edge. She’s positioned herself upwind perfectly, she smells like a magazine, the ones with the free samples.

  “Of course all this is for nothing if you’re gonna wuss out.”

  No one’s called me a wuss since well, ever. Without letting her say another word, I kiss her. A full-on-lip-lock, take-a-super-deep-breath-and-stick-my-tongue-in-her-mouth-kind-of-a kiss. Amber’s definitely into it, she doesn’t pull back, so I lean my body into hers.
I feel animalistic.

  We make out for a while, my hands roaming up and down her back and on her butt before my fingers eventually creep under her shirt. Her bra opens in the front, not a problem, been there, done that. Being with Amber is easy, not that I’ve been with her before, but I’ve been with girls like her. Basically, there’s no turbulence, I’m on autopilot. No surprises here. I kiss the back of her neck, nibble her ear lobes, massage her shoulders. It’s all going great until she snakes her toes up and under the cuff of my jeans and I feel a sharp metal object scratching my skin. A toe ring.

  Sasha was wearing a toe ring on her middle toe the first time I lied about my dad.

  I slide my leg away from Amber. I notice the music has stopped playing, there’s no more talking. I look around and discover Amber and I are alone on the balcony. I hear a knock, sounds like it’s coming from the pool. I peer over the railing. Everyone has taken off except for my best friend who’s not dead and is killing time by bouncing up and down on the diving board.

  “Dude, it’s about time. Carmen’s parents are almost home.”

  How did it get to be so late?

  29

  Sasha

  How did I become one of those girls? You know, the ones who only think about guys. How to look cuter so guys notice. How to laugh loud enough so guys hear and want to know what’s so funny. How to pretend to give a crap about football. Okay, I never sunk that low, but I came pretty close. Ow. I stubbed my baby toe in these ridiculous high heels. What is the point of heels? To keep girls unstable so we can’t run when we need to, well, I’m running. Just have to look out for all these huge tree roots. Fancy neighborhoods like this always have towering trees with roots that push right up into the sidewalks, letting interlopers like me know you have to be born into this kind of money. They can have it. In my neighborhood we have bushes. No maintenance, no roots, lots of places to hide stuff when you’re planning on sneaking out of the house. Shrubbery with a purpose.

  I left my clothes at Lisa’s house and she is still at the party. If I go to her place now her mom will know something is wrong and she will call my mom and no way am I dealing with that now. I could wait outside Lisa’s house until she comes home, but I don’t feel like talking to her tonight. She saw and heard everything along with everyone else. She will worry about what people think, and I don’t want to care about that now. Just another waste of time. Like Will.