Carl’s mother burst into the room with a plate full of oatmeal-raisin cookies and Evelyn in tow. “Why so serious, kids?” She’d cleaned out Evelyn’s nostrils. Mrs. Lancaster set the cookies on Carl’s desk and handed each of us a paper napkin. I looked away from her; Mrs. Lancaster would not give me cookies and a napkin if she knew the things I had done. Carl and Anita woke themselves from their thoughts and sat up.
Carl’s mother said, “Carl, this is a special treat. I don’t mean to set a precedent. Try not to get crumbs on the carpet.”
“Sure, Mom.” He pulled on the middle finger of his right hand and cracked the knuckle.
“Carl! Do you remember what Miss Lindsey told you about that? It’s an insidious habit. Come on, honey, can we cooperate?” She put her arm around Carl’s shoulders and squeezed — even his freckles whitened — and turned to Anita. “Is Evelyn allowed to watch television? I thought I’d put on a Disney movie for her, if you think it would be all right with your parents.”
Anita sat up straight and folded her hands on her knee. “I’m sure it would be fine.”
“Well, then, I will leave you kids to whatever you are doing! Schoolwork?” Mrs. Lancaster sniffed, as if checking for pot smoke, and took Evelyn’s hand. Evelyn, looking drugged with infatuation, followed her out of the room.
“Cookie?” said Carl, holding out the plate. “She’s a nice lady. I’m trying to hang on until I turn eighteen. Please shut the damn door!”
“Carl, watch the language.” Anita took two cookies and kicked the door shut. “Now, back to the business at hand. Leah destroyed her phone and she needs to buy a new one, but she only has a couple of bucks, and my dad took all my money.”
Carl made a church out of his fingers. He turned his head and stared longingly at his screen saver. “Money,” he said. “You came here for money. Gee, that’s nice, Anita.”
“Carl, I’ve only borrowed money from you twice. And I paid you back.” Anita shoved her hair behind her ears, leaned toward him, and put her hand on his knee. “Carl, yes, we need money, twenty bucks, maybe another fifteen for a phone card, nothing huge. We came here mostly for your support.”
“Hmmm,” said Carl. He turned back to the computer and ran his fingers over the keyboard. “Ho-hum. Carl the ATM.”
“We trust you, Carl. Plus, we don’t have anyone else to go to,” said Anita. She took a tiny bite of her cookie and thoughtfully chewed it. “Are these cookies vegan? Probably not.”
Carl swiveled around and faced me. “Leah, give me a straight answer. Is this really important?”
“Oh God, Carl. Yeah, but . . .”
“You’re smart. And I trust you.” He tipped up his chin. “If you say it’s important, I believe you.”
I started to sweat just like in chemistry. Carl had that effect on me. I had to close my eyes and block out Carl and his room and Anita and her weird little sister and Carl’s house and his Mary Poppins–like mother. I felt dizzy from lack of nicotine. It felt like my head was about to float away.
I sat very still for a minute and then opened my eyes. “Yeah, Carl, it’s important. I need another phone. I can’t think of any other way.”
Carl opened a desk drawer, pulled out a cash box, and unlocked it with a key. He pulled out two twenties and put the box back in the drawer just as the door swung open.
“Carl, why is the door —?”
“Let’s go,” said Carl. We all stood up. He grabbed a military jacket I’d never seen him wear before. “We’re going, Mom.”
“Where are you going?”
“We’re just going for a walk, Mom. We need a breath of fresh air.”
Anita and I slid out the door past Mrs. Lancaster. Her head swiveled as each of us went through. Up close, she was a little wrinkled and smelled like lemons.
I said, “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lancaster.”
Anita jumped down the stairs two at a time and marched into the living room. “Evelyn, it’s time to go.”
Evelyn didn’t move. She didn’t blink. She didn’t appear to be breathing. She stared at The Jungle Book as if she believed she could make us disappear with the power of her mind.
Anita leaned down and touched her shoulder and said, “Evelyn? Let’s go!” She picked up the remote and turned off the television.
Evelyn’s head slowly swelled into a red ball. She screamed, flung herself backward on the polar-bear fur rug, and kicked within an inch of the glass fireplace screen. Mrs. Lancaster looked nauseated.
Anita crouched and whispered something in Evelyn’s ear. Evelyn instantly stopped crying. She stood up and walked over to Mrs. Lancaster. Her head hung down. “Thank you,” she said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Her little belly poked out.
“You’re very welcome,” said Mrs. Lancaster with an anxious smile.
As we walked down the street, Mrs. Lancaster stood motionless behind the window.
Carl’s green military jacket flapped in the breeze. I’d never spent time with him outside of school. He and Anita, with their thin faces and skinny legs, looked like members of an alternative rock band. Evelyn held both their hands, jumped, and pulled up her knees so she hung between them.
“Evelyn, stop that!” said Anita. She staggered and lowered Evelyn’s butt onto the street. I observed Carl and Anita, trying to figure out if they had ever been a couple.
Ray Ramirez was playing basketball with his little brother. He stopped playing, held the ball under his arm, and waved to us. “Hey! How’s it going?” Senior class president, doing his job. The strangest thing of all was that Ray Ramirez was actually a very nice guy. He and LaTeisha were like the Greek gods — they were so far above the rest of us, they could afford to be sweet to everyone. A little further down the food chain, people were monsters. At the very bottom, with some notable exceptions, people tended to get decent again.
I’d walked down this street thousands of times, past its lawns, the walkways lined with petunias and little piney shrubs, the automatic sprinklers spinning water across the grass. The driveways were swept, the lawns were raked of every leaf and twig, and all the front doors were decorated with welcome mats and American flags. It used to look like the world to me, but now it looked like a stage set. We were two blocks from Kristy’s house.
“I don’t want to walk past Kristy’s house.”
“Detour,” said Carl. We took the long way down Mountain Meadow Street.
We darted between cars across Pueblo Avenue and headed down the hill toward Tenth. And it didn’t even occur to me what impression it might make for me to be seen with Anita Sotelo and Carl Lancaster until a car of kids passed. They hooted and shouted; someone threw a smashed pop can that hit Carl’s shoulder. A boy yelled, “Hey, Fat-Ass.” It burned for a second, but I didn’t change my expression or slow down; I walked right through it. It was like walking through a wall of glass that vanishes the second you push against it. Carl said something funny, and I laughed.
We went to the Walmart. Carl and I both handed money to the checkout lady. She had saggy powdered cheeks, orange circles of blush. She winked at Carl over her bifocals. “Do you get the change, honey, or should I give it to one of your girlfriends?”
As we walked back out the automatic door, Anita frowned and chewed her thumbnail. “God, I hate cell phones. You do know that there’s a bloody civil war going on in the Congo over the stupid mineral they need for cell phones and laptops, and they’re destroying the lowland gorilla’s last habitat, all for . . .”
“Anita,” said Carl. He scratched the back of his neck and squinted. “Leave it for now. We can discuss this later.”
I tore off the thick plastic packaging. The cell phone was so small and shiny. I closed my fingers over it. We stood on the curb of the parking lot.
“Now what?” I felt damp and clammy, as if I had a terrible virus.
“We’ve got to activate the phone and phone card. Who’s got a laptop or a smartphone?”
“I don’t have Internet. You don’t either, rig
ht, Anita?”
Anita put her hands around her neck as if measuring it. “Nope. No kind of computer or computer access at my place.” She gazed across the parking lot and pulled Evelyn against her stomach.
“I guess we’re going back to Mrs. Lancaster’s house,” said Carl. He looked extremely tired for a second, then he threw his arms around our shoulders and we started walking.
As we walked, I laughed and talked, but mostly concentrated on Carl Lancaster’s arm around my shoulders. His arm and hand molded against me. The warmth of him soaked through my hoodie. He was about five inches taller than me. I looked over at Anita — she was laughing, snorting the way she did when she was happy. Carl’s face was so close to mine. He didn’t look at me, but I felt him watching me with his whole body. He ran his hand over my hair, and I tripped.
Carl grabbed my arm. “Are you OK?”
Back at Carl’s house, in a fast silent line, we kicked off our shoes and walked through the house and up the stairs without giving Mrs. Lancaster a chance to ask questions or offer us cookies. Carl locked the door and turned on his computer. “Leah, have a seat. Go for it.”
I sat down in the blue light. His mother rapped on the door. “Carl. Carl! I’m afraid this is not a convenient time to have guests.”
“We’re just setting up Leah’s cell phone!” Carl yelled. “Don’t worry. They’ll be gone in two minutes.”
“I didn’t mean to suggest that they weren’t welcome,” Mrs. Lancaster said through the door.
I typed like crazy and turned on the phone. “Just one minute . . . done.”
Evelyn rolled off Anita’s lap and lay on the carpet, looking up at me.
“I don’t want to leave you guys.” I wanted to stay forever in Carl’s room with Carl and Anita and Evelyn and the poster of the galaxy. You are here.
Carl and Anita nodded. Evelyn lolled against Anita’s foot and stared at me with her googly eyes.
A key clicked in the lock. Mrs. Lancaster opened the door. “I’m so sorry, girls. . . .”
We stood in a triangle facing one another. The late-afternoon light was golden and shone on Anita’s face. Her skin looked ashy. She had purple moons under her eyes. “I should get home soon. I have to get up at four thirty.” Anita zipped up Evelyn’s jacket and took her hand.
“I wish we could hang out later,” I said.
“I can’t believe she used the key. It’s humiliating. That is my room. I’ll be eighteen in two years. I could join the army next year. I should! She’d love that! Except, I’d hate to be in the army. . . .” Carl ground the toe of his shoe into the driveway. “And I probably can’t go out tonight. I have a lesson at six, then dinner, then I have to practice for a couple of hours. I’ve got a recital Sunday. God, I hate my life.”
“Anita, can you get out?”
“I don’t know.” Anita shook her head and stared at the ground. “Evelyn would have to come. She’s been kind of sick and probably should go to bed early.” Evelyn let go of Anita’s hand and swung around the lamppost in Carl’s yard.
A huge cloud covered the sun and it was suddenly cold. The mountain loomed over us. Carl and Anita were both so skinny, and even standing there together, they already looked lonely. It was time for us to separate and go back alone to our rooms.
Carl put his hand on my shoulder. “I will try. I might be able to meet you at eight. Call me at seven. Do you guys want to go out tomorrow night? I can probably use the van.” His mother walked behind the glass in her white living room. She stopped and adjusted one of the dried flowers.
“I’m out of here.” Anita suddenly turned and walked down the street. She called back, “Call my landline about tomorrow.”
I turned to Carl and felt a jolt. No one had ever looked at me the way Carl did. Calm, steady, undistracted, intrigued, like he saw possibilities in me that I didn’t even know about. He put his hand on my shoulder, and I could feel him, Carl, through his warm hand. And I knew he could feel me seeing him.
I touched his hand for half a second, then scooted out from under it. “I’ll call you at seven. See you, Carl!” I ran to catch up with Anita.
Anita didn’t talk as we walked home. She kept her head down. Evelyn trotted alongside with her chin tilted up toward the sky. I walked them to their building.
Anita turned and gave me a tight hug, but still didn’t look at me. “Good luck with whatever the hell this is about. If anything seems weird, call 911.”
She unlocked the entrance door. She pushed Evelyn through. The door slowly shut behind them, then locked with a click. I wanted her to look back. I willed her to please look back and smile at me. She took an envelope and some flyers out of the mailbox, then unlocked the second door. Strands of black hair hung down her narrow back. She sagged to the side because Evelyn was hanging on to her shoulder and yammering at her. They went through the second metal door, and it slammed shut.
I walked home. A mountain of phone books had been dumped in my building’s entry with the pizza flyers. I went down the stairs and walked to #3.
Cindy was wearing a lime-green uniform. She pulled a box of generic cereal out of a paper bag. “I’m going to let you get your own dinner,” she said into the cupboard. “I’m sorry, but please don’t ask anything of me. I had a horrible day and I need to zone out. If you want the TV, you may watch while I shower.”
I went into my room, locked the door, and lay on the bed. I kicked my backpack onto the floor, and it landed with a thunk. I’d forgotten about school, even though I’d been carrying a fifty-pound backpack around all afternoon.
I tipped back my head. Light shone through the bars and the streaks of red dirt. The walls were bare now, except for Bruno Mars and Damien Rogers — no more kittens or puppies. They’d all grown up and run away.
The newspaper picture of Damien Rogers was rumpled and already beginning to turn yellow. I got up on my knees and looked at it. It was a newspaper photo of a high-school game with a guy in right field who was maybe Damien Rogers or maybe somebody else. I peeled the tape off the wall. As I crumpled the paper, my heart punched the inside of my chest.
I didn’t even have to try to remember the number — my thumb just tapped it out.
He answered on the second ring. “Ashley, I knew you’d call me back.”
I heard my voice tell him to meet at the Burger King by Torrance Park on Saturday night at eleven and hung up.
I opened my eyes. The lightbulb blazed over me. It was quarter to seven.
In the shower, I closed my eyes and stood swaying in the hot steamy air. I felt a little less nauseous, less dizzy and jittery. My cells seemed to be excreting nicotine the way Carl said they would. I used Cindy’s body wash and shaving cream, and shaved until my legs were shiny.
I turned off the water and dried myself off with a ratty blue towel that smelled like mildew. In the steamy mirror, I saw a girl with wet black hair and pink skin. Usually, I couldn’t bear to look at my body, but sometimes I did and sometimes had the secret thought that my breasts were so beautiful, it was tragic that no one could see them but me.
Corinne called my cell phone. “Finally, you bought some minutes. I’m sooooooo bored. I have to babysit. Kristy’s dad made her go to the youth group at their church. It goes till like eleven! He’s driving her both ways to make sure she doesn’t skip.” That meant Kristy was safe for the night at least.
I called Carl on the new phone.
“I can come over tonight,” he said. “I told my mom I was going to be an accompanist for Mary Rogers. She’s practicing for the state vocal comp. Should I come to your house?”
“Meet me at 7-Eleven at seven thirty.”
Cindy was curled up on the couch. She laughed and rubbed the wineglass against her mouth. “Where are you going, sweetheart? Why don’t you come watch this show with me?” she said, still staring at the TV.
“I have to go to the drugstore to get a binder for my history report. It’s required.”
“Stay in well-lit areas!” He
r eyes glowed in the TV light. She laughed again.
“Mom, it’s still light out.”
It was a spring night, and the light was blue. The air was warm and soft. It was the kind of night that tore your heart out. Dogs barked and people laughed in their yards. Music trailed from car windows and faded away.
The 7-Eleven was deserted. I kept checking my phone. An old man in a blue truck pulled in. He went inside and bought a can of chew, then struggled back into his truck and drove away. I waited out front, but felt conspicuous and pathetic because it was Friday night and everyone was driving around with their friends. I went into the store and bought a blue Slurpee and ran into the bathroom when anyone pulled up out front. I almost swiped some breath mints but stopped myself. The windows turned black.
“You got to buy something else or leave,” said the guy behind the counter. He was a big, sad boy with purple acne scars, the brother of a girl I knew. He’d graduated three years before.
I pushed through the dirty glass doors, ducking my head so the guy at the counter wouldn’t see that I was on the verge of crying because I was the biggest idiot in the world and Carl Lancaster was a nerd and a jerk. I was stupid enough to believe that something good could happen to me.
Carl bumped across the parking lot on his ten-speed. He wore an orange bandanna around his head under his bike helmet. “Leah!”
He rode up to me and put his feet on the ground. He cracked all the knuckles on his left hand. “Sorry I’m so late. I got busted. My mother called fricking Mary Rogers’s mother and asked if I was accompanying her. She went berserk. I had to sneak out. Are you OK?”
“I’m fine. You better get back home before your mom . . .”
“I had to let you know what was going on. My mom confiscated my phone. Are you all right?” He looked carefully at me. “I’ll walk you home.”
I walked beside Carl. He kept his head down and had a very serious expression on his face as he rolled his bike along. We walked on the same sidewalks I’d walked on thousands of times, but everything felt new. The night billowed in soft waves around us. Wind blew through my body, and all the little hairs on my arms were breathing. We didn’t say anything; we just walked alongside each other as if our being together was a kind of talking.
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