Black Tuesday

by Susan Colebank

  “And you’re sure?”

  “Yep.”

  The woman started to transfer the design onto Jayne’s skin. When the needle punctured her skin minutes later, thoughts of her mother, the Harvard guy, the guy suing her parents, the letter to Mrs. Deavers, Tom’s eye twitch, and Lori’s hateful face disappeared.

  Pain had a way of doing that.

  Jayne rotated her wrist. The Swarovski crystals twinkled under the Outreach program’s fluorescent lights. “I can’t take this.”

  Even as she said the words, she knew they were the ones her parents raised her to say. What she actually wanted to say was, I love it and I never want to take it off.

  It definitely was taking her mind off being sued. That was one powerful bracelet.

  “I’m not taking it back.” Darian hooked his hands behind his head, his legs stretched out in front of him on one of Outreach’s coffee tables. “And if you put it on the table, I’m just going to leave it there. Maybe the janitor will pick it up.”

  The bracelet sparkled, picking up any and all rays of light. God, it was gorgeous. And it was her first gift ever from a boy, minus the presents from her dad and Tom.

  The nicest thing she’d ever gotten Tom was a book of Herb Ritts pictures. That’d been a great gift. The most Jayne-like gift ever.

  But this one was three strands of clear and light topaz crystals, a present she never would’ve spent money on for herself. Her mom had one almost exactly like it and had picked it up after landing an interview with a reclusive rocker in the West Valley.

  Jayne’d seen her mom’s Nordstrom receipt. For something that looked like it’d come from Claire’s Accessories and had been neighbors with $3.95 rhinestone hairclips, the $750 price tag had caused a shock to the system.

  And now she had one.

  “Okay then.” She looked around them, where cubicles were filled with people talking on the phone or to one another. In a lower voice, she asked, “Why exactly are you giving this to me?”

  “Why not?”

  Jayne gave him a look that let him know he was full of it.

  “Maybe it’s because I got it cheap. Maybe it’s because I think you’re pretty cool.” He leaned closer. “Maybe it’s because I want to molest you later.”

  Jayne pulled away so fast, her head hit his chin and she saw white pinpricks of light for a second.

  “Darian, I . . .”

  “I’m joking, Jaynie.” He put a finger on the bracelet before running it up her arm. She shivered. She didn’t know if it was because of how cold it was in here.

  Or if it was a momentary case of the heebie-jeebies about Darian telling her he wanted to molest her.

  “No worries, okay?” He pulled her close, ignoring the half-filled cubicles around them.

  Across the building, she saw Maria glance their way, tap her watch, and go into her office. Jayne met Darian’s eyes, looking for the lie. She was sick of being lied to. “No strings?”

  He squeezed her closer. “No strings.”

  29

  YOU AND DARIAN are getting pretty close, huh?”

  Meadow’s words were muffled as she pulled the lace-trimmed shirt over her head. Jayne had just finished pulling on a long-sleeved black shirt, a black dragon embossed on the front in velvet. After they’d finished up with Outreach for the day, Meadow thought it was time to go on to step two of Makeover Jayne: clothes.

  And now they were sharing the same changing room in a trendy little shop that had just opened in the Paradise Valley mall.

  The old Jayne would’ve wanted to be alone in her own room, with periodic check-ins in the hallway. The tattooed, pierced Jayne? She didn’t give a crap.

  Much.

  “Yeah. We’re getting to know each other a lot more.”

  “A lot more?” Meadow’s eyebrows went up and down and her mouth twisted into a smirk. Meadow liked her smirks, that was for sure.

  Jayne knew what that smirk meant, too. “No, not like that. I mean we’re having fun.”

  “Like fun as in naked parts pressed against other naked parts?”

  “No!” Jayne laughed and pulled on the black skirt she’d brought in. “No naked parts are being pressed together.”

  “Yet.” Meadow wiggled into a pair of tight jeans. “By the way, that shirt looks awesome with your hair.”

  Jayne fluffed her hair in the mirror and didn’t say anything. She didn’t correct Meadow or go into details. She didn’t even know where this thing with Darian was going. And she definitely wasn’t going to hypothesize where this thing was going with one of his closest friends.

  A half hour later, they went to the cashier, an armload of clothes in their arms.

  “I’m sorry, but this card doesn’t work.” The tiny Latina girl behind the register held Jayne’s credit card out to her. “Do you want to use another one?”

  Jayne didn’t attempt to take the card back. “Try entering the numbers. Sometimes the magnetic strip doesn’t work.”

  “I already did that. It’s a no-go.”

  Jayne knew the card was good. Her parents had given it to her two years ago, when they stopped taking her on back-to-school shopping trips and let her go on her own.

  She only used it for these trips and gas. Now that she didn’t drive, she barely used the thing at all.

  Did the company shut down the card?

  She turned to Meadow. “Can I borrow your phone?”

  The girl handed her the rhinestone-decorated cell. “I told you getting rid of your cell phone wasn’t a good idea.”

  Jayne dialed and waited. “Dad, hey, it’s Jayne. I just tried to use the credit card and it didn’t work. Did you ever get a letter saying it was canceled or anything?”

  The pause on the other end was not a good sign. Finally, her dad said, “Your mom canceled it the other day. I forgot to tell you, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “She canceled it?” Jayne knew she’d shrieked the question. Meadow, who was in the middle of paying for her own clothes, mouthed “Ow” as she covered one of her ears. “Why did she cancel it?”

  “She said something about how you were rude to her at dinner the other night.”

  Jayne looked down at her feet. She counted to ten. She breathed.

  Nothing worked. She was still ready to do battle.

  “Kid, I’m sorry about this. I meant to give you my card when you did your back-to-school shopping, but I didn’t know you were going today. Will the associate take my card over the phone?”

  At that point, Jayne didn’t care about the clothes. She didn’t care about anything much that had anything to do with her parents and their control issues.

  More specifically, Gen and her control issues.

  And Dad and his lack of balls when it came to his wife.

  “You know what, Dad? I’m sick of this bull crap. Sick. Of. It.” She walked out of the store and stood by the railing. She looked down at the first floor with the crowd of people pushing in every which direction. Scurrying the way her parents made her scurry.

  For their approval.

  For their support.

  For friggin’ clothes.

  “Jayne, I hear you saying that you feel mad. I understand—”

  “Dad, spare me. I have Larry for that psychobabble. You want to know something? I’m fine, all things considered. Like, I’m on my way to feeling normal again. But then you and Mom do crap to screw it all up.”

  She hung up the phone.

  Saying those words out loud did a lot more for her than those stupid breathing exercises.

  “Hey, you okay, man?” Meadow came to stand beside her, leaning against the railing. “You’re not going to have an aneurysm and keel over, are you?”

  Jayne laughed. It felt cathartic. Freeing.

  Like her old self.

  “I’m good. I am, I swear. I just unloaded a bunch of crap just then. And I’m feeling . . . terrific.” The last word was all but shouted. Half the people below stopped and looked up.

 
Jayne felt her cheeks get warm.

  “So I snagged you something.” Meadow walked a few store-fronts over until they were out of sight of the boutique they’d just been in. She reached in a bag and pulled out the black shirt with the velvet dragon.

  “I can’t take that, Meadow. You bought it. It’s yours.”

  Meadow took a mall shopping bag from a stack they were standing by. She put the shirt in it and handed it to Jayne.

  “Who said anything about buying it?”

  30

  YOU SMELL NICE.” Darian leaned over and brushed his lips against hers.

  “Thanks.” Jayne fastened the seat belt and adjusted it so it wasn’t cutting her boob in half. Not exactly the look she was going for. “It’s my own blend. A little Clinique Happy mixed with some Dove body wash.”

  Darian kissed the corner of her mouth. “Whatever it is, it makes me want to lick you up.” Jayne felt his tongue dart out. “As sweet as I thought.”

  Jayne wound down the window and the warm night air swept across her face. Thoughts about the credit card and Meadow’s five-finger discount were still swirling around in her head.

  “You’re sure it’s okay that I’m coming? Meadow was a little pissed at me today.”

  Jayne had all but called Meadow a thief. She wouldn’t take the bag with the shirt inside, either.

  She could pierce her belly button, tattoo her skin, be rude to her mom, tell it like it was to her dad.

  But she couldn’t steal.

  “She likes you plenty. Especially after she sees the gift we’re both giving her.” He jerked his thumb behind him.

  “You should’ve told me you were getting her something.” She fidgeted with the clasp on her bracelet. Darian’s bracelet. “I could’ve helped you look or something. I’m pretty good with girl gifts.”

  “All’s good.” He turned onto a street that started to incline sharply. They were on one of the few hills that were in the city known as the Valley. “Mom picked it up for me. She’s known Meadow since we started first grade.”

  Jayne tried to make out what was in the backseat of the sedan, but all she saw was a plastic grocery bag. “What is it?”

  “A Louis something or other. It’s some kind of big-deal purse girls like.”

  Meadow was getting a Louis Vuitton? From Darian? Jayne twisted the bracelet around her wrist a few times. She looked down at the bracelet. It looked like he gave all the girls he knew expensive gifts.

  “How much do I owe you?” Jayne’s stomach twisted. Stop it, Jayne. Darian’s her best friend. Best friends give nice gifts. Tom’s given you nice gifts before. Remember that signed Richard Avedon book he got you?

  The memory was little consolation. It made her start thinking about Tom.

  “My mom paid for it, so don’t worry about it.”

  His mom picked it out and paid for it. Darian didn’t. It was his mom. Jayne felt her heart ache a little less.

  “Mom always spends too much money on stuff. Knowing her, she probably spent half of her alimony check on that stupid bag. Wanting people at Nordstrom to think she’s still rich, like when her and my dad were still married.”

  She could tell he was looking at her as they slowly maneuvered up the steep street. Jayne checked. He was.

  “If it was me, Meadow would’ve gotten a birthday card.” He grinned at her, his teeth showing white in the inky darkness. “An e-mailed birthday card.”

  Jayne immediately felt the boulder that had lodged in her throat shift. She looked at the houses that crawled by and started to breathe normally again. “Meadow lives up here? This is pretty nice.”

  “No, she’s out in Gilbert, where it smells like horse crap. Which is really unfortunate, since she lives in the biggest house I’ve seen in my life.” Darian stopped in front of a three-story square house, floodlights shining on the adobe. “This is just a pit stop.”

  He got out of the car before leaning back in. “I’ll be right back, darlin’. The key’s still in the ignition if you want to turn on the air conditioner or the radio.”

  As he made his way up the cement sidewalk, the only sounds Jayne heard were his footsteps and a three-tiered fountain. The air was a tiny bit cooler up here, and Jayne closed her eyes. The running water, the leather seat, and the lingering memory of “darlin’” made her feel like she was living the best moment of her life so far.

  About five minutes later, the driver’s-side door opened again.

  “Got what you needed?” Jayne opened her eyes, a small smile still plastered on her face.

  “Hell yeah.” Darian was sucking on a cigarette, the orange glow at the end of it getting brighter as he inhaled.

  When he exhaled, she realized it wasn’t a cigarette.

  “I’ve got some fine, ge-nu-wine skunk here.” He held up a brown paper bag.

  “Skunk?” The word was barely audible. Somehow, she didn’t think he was carrying a carcass in there. The smell kind of told her that.

  “Marijuana, darlin’.” He started the engine and gently put the bag behind her seat. He took the joint from between his lips and puffed a ring of smoke toward her. “We’ve gotta bring something to cover up that nasty smell out in farm country.”

  Jayne jammed her hands between her thighs and the seat. For the life of her, she wanted to look inside that bag. To see if it actually contained what looked like a bag full of pot.

  But if the police stopped their car, she didn’t want her fingerprints all over it.

  Then again, fingerprints would be the least of her worries, what with her probation and all. Just being in a five-foot radius was going to get her in trouble.

  Crap. Crap. Crappity crap crap.

  The sound of a window going down interrupted her thoughts. Darian flicked his butt outside, and he puffed one more perfect ring in her direction. He looked like a little boy who’d just done something cute.

  This was so not cute.

  “Darian, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to have that bag back there what with me on probation and all.”

  He punched the “1” on the CD changer, and the soft sounds of some ballad started up. It sounded a lot like what the student body voted on for the theme of last year’s homecoming dance.

  Jayne didn’t know whether she thought Darian’s song choice was cheesy or endearing.

  “I don’t plan on getting pulled over, darlin’.” He pulled her hand up on the armrest between them. He clasped it in his larger, stronger, very comforting one. “Just sit back, enjoy the ride, and we’ll be at Meadow’s in no time.”

  Jayne tried to relax. She really did. She rolled back her shoulders, stretched her neck to the right, then to the left.

  But the tension was there. And so was that bag.

  “I can’t do this, Darian.” They were on the U.S. 60, going a good twenty miles over the speed limit.

  She didn’t brave a look in Darian’s direction. Her head felt cemented in place as she stared at the dark abyss of the floor in front of her.

  Jayne kept waiting for him to pull over. And make her walk home.

  He lifted her hand and she felt warm, moist lips press against the inside of her wrist. She chanced a look up.

  Darian was looking at the road, which was a good thing since they were barreling down the freeway at a good eighty-five, ninety miles an hour. He had a smile on his lips, and he pressed her hand against the smooth, tanned skin of his cheek.

  “That bag o’ trouble is about to be history.” He let go of her hand and pressed the button that released the top of the convertible. It unlatched and started sliding down. Darian reached an arm between the front seats.

  He switched to the carpool lane, with its wide shoulder. “Any last words for that troublesome bag of ours?”

  She shook her head. She was going to make him a batch of the famous Thompkins chocolate chip cookies. No, make it two.

  And maybe even with real sugar.

  “Okay then. Off it goes.”

  Jayne darted a quick look
behind them. Nope. No cop cars. At least no marked ones.

  “Maybe we should get off the freeway and . . .”

  Before she could finish the thought, Darian lifted his arm and let the wind pick up his offering.

  Jayne turned to see a thousand-dollar purse fly out of the car.

  “Are you crazy?” Jayne screamed over the wind. The car was going close to ninety-five miles per hour, causing currents of air to whip across her cheeks.

  “Darlin’, what would’ve been crazy was if I’d thrown away that grade-A weed.” Darian shot her a look that made her think of the time rotten Aaron Belser had kicked the chair out from under her in Mrs. Tate’s first-grade class. “Anyway, Meadow’s got a ton of those damn purses that she sells on eBay because she’d rather have the money for her own poison. She’ll get loads more fun out of that brown paper sack back there, trust me.”

  Trust him? Jayne was too busy trying to remember how to breathe and keep her heart from bursting out of her chest like some kind of alien spawn.

  But freaking out was the old Jayne. She was now the new and improved Jayne.

  The one who was in control of her destiny. The one who had her own mind. And who made her own decisions.

  The one who still didn’t know what she wanted. Well, who knew that she didn’t want drugs in the car. But didn’t want to piss off the boy who liked her. What a day.

  What a life.

  She reached in back and pulled out the bag, using her knuckles and not her fingers. She looked inside.

  The bag was almost full of pot. How much did one girl need on her birthday?

  “Darian, you got all of this for Meadow?”

  “Some of it.”

  “What’s happening with the rest of it?”

  Darian took the bag and rolled it back up. He put it back behind Jayne’s seat. “Jayne, don’t act like you’re six.”

  Jayne twisted the bracelet on her wrist. It felt like a hand-cuff. A shackle tying her to this guy she didn’t even know. She remembered her first day at Outreach, when she asked what Darian was doing there.

  “I take it you’ll be selling this marijuana?”

  “Ding, ding, ding, give the girl a prize.”