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No Use For A Name

Page 13

by Penelope Wright


  Click. Now he really had hung up on me. And he called me Baby.

  I stared at the phone in my hand. What was I going to do? When I needed a ride, I called Kaia. Or…I jammed the old push button phone into the cradle and picked it up again to get a dial tone. Fingers shaking, I punched in Grady's cell number. He picked up on the second ring.

  "Hello?"

  "Grady? Hi, it's me." It was nice that he recognized my voice well enough now that I didn't have to call myself Barbie. "My cousin's in trouble, and I could really, really use your help. Can you come get me?"

  Of course he could.

  I hadn't expected him to show up so quick though. He must have been driving around when I called. I heard his knock at the door as I ran a brush through my hair. I jogged down the hall and through the empty living room. Dad had left the TV blaring. I pulled open the front door, ushering Grady in. "Can you wait for just a sec? I've got to get my shoes on."

  Grady nodded, peering around the poorly lit living room with obvious interest, but—thankfully—no obvious disdain.

  I jogged back to my room and was just slipping on my tennis shoes when I heard glass shattering in the living room. What the hell?

  The strains of the theme song for some new dumb show coming on blasted from the television as I tore down the hall.

  I hit the edge of the living room and looked first at Grady. He seemed uninjured, but he stood there with what I can only describe as a dumbfounded look on his face.

  I followed his gaze to where my father stood in the doorway to the kitchen, a glass bowl in shards at his feet, pink shrimp scattered around his ankles, horror on his face.

  The theme song continued to blare in the living room, and images of feisty old ladies flickered across the TV screen, sharply contrasting the eerily silent standoff between Grady and my dad. I was so weirded out, I did the only thing I could think of. I pounced on the remote and flicked the TV off.

  The sudden lack of noise seemed to shake Grady out of his stupor. "Geoff?" Grady asked. "What are you doing here?"

  Geoff? How did he know my dad's name?

  My dad took a step forward, his arms held out in front of himself in supplication. His foot crunched in the glass, but he didn't even seem to notice. "I can explain."

  Grady stepped forward too. At the same moment, the front door flew open and Joe exploded across the threshold. "Dad! I'm sorry! I tried to stop her but she wouldn't listen!"

  Grady looked back and forth between Joe and my dad, bewildered. "Dad?" He said, echoing Joe. "Geoff, why did he call you Dad?"

  My dad looked at the floor. "He's my son…I have a family. I'm so sorry Grady. I should have told you."

  "So this is why…" Grady's voice trailed off, and he looked at me, then back at my dad. "You're her dad too?"

  My dad shrugged. What the hell was that supposed to mean? A SHRUG? Sure, Dad's not a big talker, but a SHRUG? He could have gone with a nod. My skin started to prickle and heat flushed into my cheeks. Joe's chest heaved as he gulped in big breaths of air. He crossed the living room to stand next to my dad.

  Grady snapped his head back to me. "Come on."

  "Huh?"

  "You said you needed help, didn't you? Well, that's what I'm here for. Let's go."

  Kaia. Right. Some savior I was, I'd forgotten all about her.

  Grady stepped through the open door and stalked to his car, his long legs eating up the distance between my front door and the driveway in no time. I hurried after him and sank down into the passenger seat of the Lexus.

  Grady twisted the key in the ignition and cranked the wheel less carefully than normal, but he hadn't completely thrown caution to the wind. "Seatbelt," he said, just before he turned onto the road. I reached back and yanked the shoulder belt across my body and clicked it in place.

  I let Grady drive silently for maybe thirty seconds before I spoke. "What was that back there? How do you know my dad? What the heck is going on?"

  Grady's fingers tensed on the wheel, then flexed. Tense. Flex. His eyes burned a path in the road straight ahead. "I've known your dad for about four years. I've always called him Geoff, even though I practically thought of him as a father myself. Your dad is my dad's partner."

  "No," I said. "He can't be. He works at the casino."

  "Not his business partner," Grady said. "His partner. Your dad is my dad's boyfriend."

  SIXTEEN

  "His what?" I said.

  "His boyfriend," Grady repeated.

  "But, but," I stammered. "He's my dad. And I thought your dad was a Christian?" My voice got higher and higher as I spoke, and Grady obviously thought my last statement was a question, which, I guess maybe it was.

  He jerked the wheel to the right and slammed on his brakes. We came to a skidding halt on the shoulder of the road. He turned to me and his eyes burned into mine angrily. "What do you mean by that?"

  I shrank back in my seat. "Um, you know. Doesn't God supposedly frown on the whole 'gay' thing?"

  Grady clenched one fist against the steering wheel. "My dad is good, kind, and generous. He is the best Christian man I've ever known. And he's gay. And if anyone has a problem with that, then I don't want to know them."

  I shook my head. "No, I just, I guess I didn't think Christians were allowed to be gay."

  Grady smiled wryly at me. "And I didn't think atheists were allowed to be nice."

  We both fell silent and I twisted my hands in my lap. "So you're serious?" I said after a couple moments. "My dad and your dad are like, a couple?"

  "Yeah. Since I was in eighth grade."

  "How could I not know?"

  "I didn't know about you, you didn't know about us. He's obviously pretty good at keeping secrets."

  "He's never home," I said. "I know he doesn't get along with my mom. I thought he just worked at the casino a lot to avoid us."

  Grady pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, then rubbed his face, sighing. "He and my dad spend a lot of time together. I was kind of hoping he'd move in with us, but he said he wanted to keep his apartment."

  "But his apartment was actually my house," I said flatly.

  "No, he really does have an apartment," Grady said. "I've been there lots of times."

  I felt my eyebrows shoot up. "How can he afford an apartment, and our house too? Security guards don't make that much money. Do they?"

  Grady pursed his lips, puzzled. "He's not a security guard. Geoff's in management at the casino. He does really well."

  Geoff. I couldn't get over hearing Grady talk about my dad like they were buddies. Which they were. Or had been. Oh my god.

  "I don't know my dad at all, do I?"

  Grady stared at his lap. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like it's all about me, but I've only known him four years, which is a lot of time, but I wasn't thinking about how you must feel. I mean, you thought he was your dad for your whole life. That's…I can't even imagine how you must feel."

  Suddenly I felt like the seatbelt was strangling me. "What do you mean 'you thought he was your dad'? He is my dad."

  Grady furrowed his brow. "But he's gay."

  I pulled the seatbelt away from my chest, thinking that would make me feel better, but when I let go, it snapped back into place even tighter than before. "That doesn't mean he's not my dad. I mean, why would he even be with my mom if it wasn't for us kids? There's five of us, you know."

  Grady shook his head. "I don't know, but Geoff's gay. As in, gets squeamish when a women's deodorant commercial comes on gay. I'm really sorry, but I don't think he's your father. What color are your mom's eyes?"

  Grady's question startled me, and I answered without hesitation. "Blue."

  "So are Geoff's. Yours are brown. It's really rare for two blue-eyed people to have a brown-eyed child. Either he's not your father, or she's not your mother."

  My heart quickened in my chest. "Can't it be that last one?"

  Grady reached across the seat and took my hand. "I'm so, so sorry."
/>   I closed my eyes as the scant memories I had of my dad raced through my mind. And they shouldn't be so thin, so superficial. I'd lived with him my whole life. But he'd been a stranger, drifting in and out, never talking, never opening up. He'd never been mean, but he'd never been there. Not for me. Not for any of us. I nodded, keeping my eyes closed. "You're right."

  Grady sighed and looked unhappy. "We're not going to be able to date anymore."

  "Um, yeah. This is just a bit too weird," I agreed.

  "I think we both knew it wasn't working out anyway," Grady said.

  "I wish it could have, Grady. I really, really like you. And I love who you are."

  "You're just not in love with me."

  I nodded and stared at my lap.

  "Don't worry about hurting my feelings, I'm not in love with you either."

  My head jerked up, and for a second I thought I'd have to glare at him for that one, but when I saw the sad smile on his face, I couldn't. I smiled a tiny smile back.

  "I had some selfish reasons for dating you to begin with," Grady admitted. "I think I was proud. I really, really wanted to save someone. But as crappy as you've had it, you don't need saving. You never have. You're going to do fine on your own. You'll do even better once you have your own car and stop needing rides everywhere."

  His comment socked me in the stomach as I pictured my normal driver. Oh my god, Kaia! "Grady, what time is it?"

  Grady pointed at the digital clock on the dashboard, the one I could have seen myself if I'd looked. 12:15 AM. "Oh my god," I groaned. "Kaia. She's at Derek Mottola's house and she's in trouble. You've got to get me to that party! She's someone who definitely needs saving."

  Grady slammed the car into drive and we shot off down the road. "Derek Mottola. The guy from my math class. He's Tim Brewer's stepbrother, right?"

  My stomach dived into my ankles. "Yeah. You know Tim?"

  "Yeah. And I know where he lives. You still buckled?"

  I nodded. Grady jammed his foot on the gas pedal and sped up. "I didn't know you knew how to go over the speed limit," I said, my teeth clenched.

  "I save my aggressive driving for when it matters."

  We didn't talk anymore until we turned onto a bumpy dirt road that was lined with cars. Most were parked bumper to bumper, though some cars were turned in at crazy angles with their noses or back ends smashed into the heavy foliage. "Looks like a big one," Grady said. "We'll need to park here and walk in."

  "How far is it from here?"

  "I don't remember for sure, I haven't been here in a couple years, probably about a mile?"

  "No," I shook my head. "There's no time. I should have been here ages ago. You'll have to drive up to the house and drop me off if you can't find anywhere to park."

  "These Brewer parties are crazy. I don't want to leave you alone here."

  I gestured out the window at the cars lining the dirt road. "I won't be alone."

  Grady shot me a sour look, then quickly flicked his eyes back to the bumpy road.

  "Besides," I added, "It's a Mottola party, not a Brewer party. That's better, right?"

  Grady set his mouth in a firm, grim line. "Mottola's a better guy than his brother, that's for sure. But things like this, they take on a life of their own. This road's on the rez. Regular cops can't come out here, and tribal cops…there just aren't enough of them to worry about busting a high school party. Things could be seriously bad out here."

  My teeth clicked together as we hit a particularly hard bump, and I grabbed the dashboard. "I can handle it," I said through my clenched teeth. "Once I find Kaia, I'll get her keys and I can drive her car home. I won't be stranded."

  Whether it was my solid, logical plan, or because of the way my voice came out all low and steely, I don't know, but Grady nodded curtly as he spun the wheel to the right and started climbing a steep gravelly hill. "Fine."

  His tires began to spin, unable to find traction in the loose rocks. He slammed on his brakes and threw the car into reverse, rolling backward a couple of feet. At least he wasn't stuck, but this was as far as the car would take me.

  "Grady," I started.

  He put his hand on top of mine and shook his head. "You don't need to say anything. We're good."

  I nodded and swallowed past the lump in my throat. "I do need to say thank you. And you're still going to be my friend, right?"

  Grady offered a tiny smile that didn't show his teeth. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He squeezed my hand. I smiled back, then leaned over quickly and pecked his cheek with a kiss. Funny thing was, it was the most natural kiss we'd ever shared.

  I watched Grady back his Lexus up and execute a tight three-point turn before I trudged the rest of the way up the hill. The higher I climbed, the louder the noise got. When I crested the gravel hill, the first thing I noticed was all the fire. Burn barrels littered the property, and orangey flames leapt from dozens of them dotted across the landscape. People stood near them or wove around them, and their shadows leapt all over the place. But the individual fires were dwarfed by the huge blaze set in the middle of the clearing. I saw people tossing stuff into the fire. I hoped it was wood, but with the shadows playing tricks on my eyes, I wasn't sure what it was. A large guy stumbled into something at the edge of the fire and fell in. He hopped out immediately, jumping up and down and beating at embers that smoldered on his clothes. Someone else dumped a cup of liquid over his head, and he shook his wet hair violently. He staggered off, reeling into the shadow melee, and I lost sight of him.

  I looked around for a house but I didn't see one. I took a deep breath and strode toward the bonfire. I grabbed the first person I came across, a girl whose hair looked orange in the firelight. "Hey, have you seen Derek Mottola?" I asked.

  "Who?" She stared at me, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused. She held a plastic cup to her lips and took a long sip, her eyes scanning over my shoulder, looking for someone or something.

  "Derek Mottola," I repeated. "The guy whose party this is?"

  "Oh," she said. "Never heard of him." She shrugged. "I'm from Peninsula."

  The team we'd played tonight. Shit. She didn't even go to my school. She'd be no help. I turned away, frustrated. "Hey," she stopped me, putting her hand on my arm. "Where's the guy you were with? He said he was going to get me another beer."

  I shook her hand off. "I don't know what you're talking about. I just got here."

  She curled her lip back, and I couldn't tell if she was trying for some weird friendly smile or a sneer, but either way, she looked creepy. "You don't have to lie. It's a beer, not life or death. If Tim's not coming back, I can get my own stupid refill."

  Oh shit. My throat tightened and my pulse sped up. "Tim?" I asked. "Tim Brewer?"

  The girl raised her eyebrows and I must have looked kind of wild, because she went to take a step back, but I snatched my hand out and clamped onto her arm with a vise-like grip. My brain felt scrambled, and I didn't know what to do. I held her there for a second, my hand aching from squeezing her arm so hard. She narrowed her eyes at me. "What happened to you? You look different. More crazy. Not as drunk."

  The reality of what was going on came crashing down on me. Oh my god. This girl thinks I'm Kaia, and Kaia is with Tim.

  I pulled the girl roughly towards me, my nose inches from hers. "Which way did I go?"

  She pointed feebly down a wooded path, and I took off running. I left the light from the fire behind, but the moon was out, and I could see well enough as I followed the thin path through the trees.

  I surprised a couple of people making out behind some bushes. I was really glad that it wasn't Tim and Kaia, but as I got farther and farther down the path I started to wish that it had been them. At least then I would know where they were and what the hell was going on.

  I went as fast as I could, but the underbrush was thick and the path was narrow, and I kept tripping over snaky tree roots. Suddenly I realized that I could pick out a different sound, one that rose above the
dull, distant hum of the party. It was one that I recognized, and I surged ahead, shoving my way down the path, until I saw the stupid fake Ugg boots I knew so well sticking out from behind a tree.

  I stormed over and kicked her in the leg. Rachel snorted in her sleep. She was passed out on the ground, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, snoring like a chainsaw. Tim couldn't be far away. I kicked Rachel again, not to try to wake her up, but just because I wanted to. What a goddamn bitch. She was Tim's lookout, or she was supposed to be, I was sure of it.

  The path was completely nonexistent at this point, but I knew I had to be close. I thrust my way through a thicket of scotch broom and saw a wheel-less, rusted out shell of a truck dumped in the middle of the bushes. My eyes flew to the set of legs that lolled out of the truck's missing passenger door, and the body crouched between them. I'd found Tim and Kaia.

  SEVENTEEN

  I didn't even stop to think. "Get off her!" I screamed. I charged across the underbrush that surrounded the truck, grabbed the back of Tim's shirt, and yanked him away from Kaia. He stumbled backwards a few steps and staggered to the side. I took advantage of his unsteadiness, putting my palms on his chest and shoving hard. I barely even looked at the stunned expression on his face as he fell to the ground on his butt.

  I whirled back around and scrambled in the open truck door, closing Kaia's legs for her and pulling her skirt back down over her underwear. Thank god, her underwear was on.

  I grabbed her hands and tried to pull her into a sitting position, but she was dead weight. Great. I could send Tim flying across the ground, but I couldn't make my cousin sit up. I scooted farther into the car. "Kaia! Kaia get up. I'm getting you out of here."

  Her eyes fluttered open, rolled in her head, then focused on me. "Athena?" she whispered. She tried to raise her head, but after an inch or so it flopped back on the seat cushion and she closed her eyes again.

  I took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Kaia! Kaia come on! Ka-"

  My words were cut off when Tim snaked his whip thin, hairy arm around my waist and dragged me backwards out of the truck. I pried at his fingers as he pulled me across the tiny clearing, but his arm was like a vise.

 

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