“What’s happening, are they gone? Are Mads and Vanya gone?”
“Shut up, Rory!”
“Poppy, come into my office a minute,” Mom called and I hurried away from the hallway and Dad and the conversation that would have been excruciating but inevitable if I’d stood there much longer.
I walked into the office and found her perched on the edge of her desk. She nodded toward the door and I closed it behind me.
“Okay, so this boy,” she said. Oh crap. “I take it you broke up with him?”
“I’m not doing this,” I said.
“And he wants you back because he, because he…” she sighed and clutched her hands to her chest again.
“Yeah yeah, because he loves me. Yes. But I’m not gonna do this, Mom.”
“So how do you feel about him?”
“Mom, stop!”
“What?”
“I’m not doing this, I’m not talking about this with you,” I said.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird.”
“But you can talk to Vanya and Mads about it?”
“Yes.”
“But not me?”
“Yes.”
“But they’re just your friends.”
“That’s right,” I said. “They’re my friends.”
“And I’m your mother.”
“Right again.”
“But…but…why can’t you talk about your feelings with me, honey?” she said. “I’m your mother and I care about you. I want what’s best for you.” She leaned toward me, went to stroke my hair behind my ear and I batted her off.
“Because it’s weird!” I said. “I told you already! And because you just made me babysit during block party, my favorite night of the year. So no, I’m not talking to you. Not about this. Not ever.”
She sighed heavily, clearly not pleased with where the conversation had gone. “Fine,” she said.
“Fine?”
“Yeah, fine. Don’t talk to me. But you’re stuck here tomorrow night and that’s final.”
“Whatever,” I said and wrenched the door open, stomping all the way up to my bedroom, stomping so hard the family pictures on the walls shook.
The next night while my parents and The Pest (on crutches) were house-party hopping and wandering around the carnival atmosphere that takes over the park and shopping district, I lay on the couch staring at the ceiling, sighing dejectedly and every so often placing a cushion over my face and groaning like I was dying.
Dying, that sounded easier than this whole debacle was. I had no idea what I was going to do, because I had no idea how I felt. My feelings for both boys swelled inside me, swirling around my body, in my head, making me dizzy and wrenching the cushion over my face again. I had to stop that after a while because I ended up inhaling some dog hairs and coughing so much my nose ran.
Ty had hurt me so much, broken my trust. But it turned out he hadn’t. And I’d wanted Cam back for such a long time, we’d barely even started when I was a cranky idiot and broke up with him and this whole stupid mess started. It would have been so much easier if I didn’t want to be with either of them. At least I didn’t have to decide tonight.
The only sort of questions I was likely to be asked tonight were along the lines of, “How is me eating brussels sprouts going to help the starving people in Africa?” and “Why can’t fish fly?”. Much simpler. There was some giggling from the hallway and I braced myself. A couple of seconds later there were some ear-piercing screams running toward me and three sets of little girl hands pawed at me, grabbing at my sleeves, my hair, Bex jumped on top of me, trying to pull me up. She hadn’t realized she had a better chance of getting me up if she was…well…not on top of me.
“Girls,” I said as they hauled me up to a sitting position and Bex crawled into my lap, jiggling up and down, reminding me of Mads. Natalie and Stacey climbed up with us and jumped on the couch. Mom would have had a fit if she saw it, so I let them jump as high as they wanted. Bex squealed with delight as Poo Bum wagged his tail, chased it a couple of times, barked at all the squirming and wriggling and bouncing on the couch and decided he was joining in. He jumped up and licked Stacey’s cheek before shoving his nose into Natalie’s armpit. Over their giggles and shrieks I could still hear the frivolity outside. I was freaking missing Block Party. I listened to the dull thudding of music from other houses down the street, the neighbourhood screamed and cheered and laughed at things that probably weren’t all that funny, but they were all having such a good time that anything remotely worth smirking about was getting a round of belly laughs and a teary eyed standing ovation.
Bex climbed off me and sat on the back of the couch, peering back at the drop to the ground behind it.
“Don’t even think about it,” I said as I got up and pulled back the curtains. I really wanted to be out there. I squinted at the faces in the darkness, trying to recognize people. Actually, I was trying to recognize one person.
I wondered what Cam was doing tonight. Was he in the street, playing football with the Dads? Or maybe he was in on a game of roller hockey with the boys from around the corner. Maybe he was helping Mr. Carmichael light his barbecue, or doing the monster mash with the cougar club that hang out at the Rothschild’s. For some reason I didn’t really think he’d be hanging out on the fringes of the park with the other teenagers, playing Truth or Dare and I Never and getting wasted on stolen booze.
I wondered what Ty was doing, where he was. Probably having dinner and psyching himself up for a show. Or maybe he was ogling a Les Paul in a store somewhere. Somewhere far away from here, that was for sure. Or maybe he was grocery shopping and had Archie in the cart, like this one time before, when he’d plonked me in the cart, Tommy put Lana in and Seb grabbed one for Jeri and we’d had a trolley race down the aisles. Seb had had some control of his cart, and so had Tommy but Ty had built ours up to warp speed and we couldn’t stop so he jumped on the back and sent us careening into a big toilet paper display that some poor kid had just finished erecting. I smiled to myself a little. He was such a nerd. A totally adorable nerd. And he had that whole rock star thing going on which was hot, but wasn’t really who he was. I knew the real him. And it’s a billion times better than any rock star. And both the nerd and the rock star loved me.
There was a whistle and a loud crack and the sky lit up with reds, oranges, blues, purples and greens. I heard a shriek and some cheering and every time the sky erupted with colour, the street chorused “ooohh…”. The Papapoulos’s do fireworks every year. I love the Papapoulos’s fireworks. It’s my favoritest part of the Block Party. Fireworks, to me, are what I imagine stars look like exploding. Like when a star has decided: “Right well, I’ve been here a million years, time to check out the scene elsewhere” and then poof, it explodes into a thousand pieces of colored light. During the summer, Cam and I watched the stars one night. Everyone was asleep and we just lay on a blanket in the backyard, talking quietly and staring at the stars. It was all very innocent. Well, there was some kissing involved. He didn’t even laugh at me when I told him about fireworks being like exploding stars. He said he liked that I’d thought about that. I really wanted to be out there enjoying the night with him, enjoying the exploding stars.
But I wasn’t. So Bex, Natalie and Stacey dragged me from the window and we settled down with popcorn and grape soda to watch Finding Nemo. I found myself sitting on the floor in front of the couch, with Stacey above me doing God-knows-what to my hair. It felt like lots of little braids the way she was tugging at it so much but I couldn’t be sure. And Bex was painting my fingernails bright blue with silver sparkles in it. Actually, she was more painting my fingers than my nails, but it was nothing some nail polish remover couldn’t fix tomorrow.
Right in the middle of Finding Nemo and my fourth coat of nail polish, the doorbell rang. And it didn’t just ring and wait. There was maybe a five second delay between the first and second ring and no delay at all between the second and fi
ftieth as whoever was outside pressed and pressed and pressed the doorbell. I ran to the door to make it shut the hell up and my heart lurched at the sight of him.
“Hi,” he said sheepishly, his hands shoved deep into his pocket. He watched me carefully, for some sort of indication of what I was thinking about the fact that he had turned up on my doorstep uninvited.
“Hi…” I said back. I couldn’t believe it. There he stood, wearing a green button down shirt and jeans. His hair was brushed – but I knew he did that – and he was clean-shaven. I even think his shirt had been ironed. Oh boy.
“Um, cool hair,” Ty said.
“What are you doing here?” I said, feeling the braids that stuck up all over my head.
“I had to see you,” his voice softened, was quiet, solemn. The little boy lost look on his face squeezed at my heart. There was some movement behind me and Ty’s eyes lit up. He squatted down and Poo Bum bounded over to him, his shaggy tail wagging in circles. “Hey boy, remember me?” Poo launched himself at Ty (which Ty didn’t realize was no indication of whether or not he remembered him) and with an “oof”, Ty was sent sprawling onto his back. His hands shot up to protect his face as Poo Bum aimed his slobbery tongue at it.
“Down boy, whoa, sit!” I should have let him go at it for a while, Ty did deserve it, after all. But Poo started making some growly noises and I was having flashbacks of my first encounter with him, with both of them. I considered for a moment leaving Poo to it to see how funny Ty thought it was now, but instead I grabbed the dog’s collar and hauled him back long enough for Ty to scramble to his feet. Now really wasn’t the time.
“Get out of here,” I said to the dog, pushing him in the direction of the living room. “Go on, shoo. Bex, call Poo would you?”
“You still have him, huh?” he said.
I shrugged. “No one claimed him.”
“Oh,” Ty nodded. “What was his name you just said?”
“Poo. Poo Bum.”
“…Okay.”
“Rory picked it. So you’re here,” I said.
“Yeah. I was wondering if you saw New Trax last night.”
“Is that the show with that ditzy host, what’s her name…?”
“Anita?”
“Yes.”
“Yes,” he said. “She’s not so bad.” I didn’t say anything. “So you saw it?”
I nodded.
He nodded too, and let out a breath he must have been holding. I waited for him to speak some more. To say something else. To say whatever it was he had come all the way here to say. But I knew he didn’t have anything. It wasn’t about him talking, it was about me. He had come here to see what I had to say.
“So…” he said, after I didn’t say anything more. “What did you think?”
What did I think? I thought it felt like a very good time to bury my face in a cushion again, but they were all in the living room where a bunch of little girls were weaving around pretending to be fish, singing “just keep swimming, just keep swimming” over and over again.
“I…” I didn’t have the words. I didn’t have the thoughts. I was trying to think, trying to give him an answer but there simply wasn’t one. “I…” There was a loud crack from outside and the dark sky lit up with gold sparkles as a new set of fireworks began. Closer this time. Poo Bum whined from the living room.
“Poo!” Bex yelled. He shot into the hall, his tail between his legs and bolted past me out the front door. Shit.
“Poo Bum! Wait! Sit! Come back!” I pushed past Ty and hurried down the steps but it was too late, he’d already trampled through the garden beds out into the street and was halfway down the block, sucked up into the night.
“Poo Bum!”
“Stay here – I’ll get him!” Ty said, running past me and into the street.
“What are you doing?” But he was gone too, bolting down the street, weaving around the odd pedestrian as they gazed up at the sky, ambling along to the party around the corner.
There was a boom and some crackling as the sky lit up with red and green and yellow.
Shit, shit, shit.
I hurried back up the steps and into the house to the girls. Maybe I didn’t need to tell them about Poo, maybe they wouldn’t notice he was gone. Maybe Ty would find him in Mr. Martinez’s rose bushes chucking up his dinner after running like that so soon after he’d been fed. I pulled on one of my pigtails with wonder. I couldn’t believe Ty was here. And he was out rescuing my dog right now.
I pushed the door so it was only slightly ajar for when Ty came back. Hopefully I’d figure out what I wanted to say by then. I headed to the living room and found that the girls had stopped being fishes.
“What’s all that noise outside?” Stacey said, her hands clapped over her ears.
Natalie was on the floor against the couch, hugging her knees. “I’m scared.”
“No, no, don’t be scared. It’s just fireworks,” I paused the DVD. “Come on, let’s go have a look.” I opened the back door and ushered the girls into the yard.
“Up there, isn’t it cool?” I said. Stacey’s eyes bugged out of her head and Bex danced around, skipping in circles. I stroked Natalie’s hair as she hugged me tightly around the waist. Guess they weren’t from the neighbourhood, didn’t see fireworks every single year. “They’re pretty, aren’t they, Natty?” I said. “They won’t hurt you.”
“They’re so loud!”
“I know. You can go back inside if you want.” She let go of me and made a dash for the house.
“We can have ice cream after, would you all like that?”
Natalie ran back out to me, wrapping both arms around my waist.
“Do you want chocolate or-?”
“There’s someone inside!”
“What?” I looked at the house.
“I heard it, there was a noise!”
“Oh honey, it’s probably just the fireworks, I know it’s pretty noisy.” I glanced up at the second storey and froze. A shadow walked in front of my bedroom window. My bedroom! I had the curtains drawn, and the light was on. But I most certainly was not up there. Rory was at the skate park watching the finals, sitting on the camping chair they sent with him so he wouldn’t bust his ankle any further, and Mom and Dad were either at the concert up at the shopping strip or Cheryl and Tony’s place for drinks. Bex and Stacey were down here with me and Natalie, Ty couldn’t be back this quickly, could he? And what would he be doing up there? Oh my God, there was really someone in the house. What do I do, what do I do? My cell was inside. Bloody useless, lying on the kitchen counter where I’d left it while making popcorn.
I didn’t even realise I’d clamped my hand onto Natalie’s shoulder until she started pulling away from me.
I let her go, grabbed her hand and hauled her over to Stacey.
“Bex,” I hissed. I pointed at her and then pointed firmly to my feet. She stopped dancing. I guess she could tell by my wide-eyed expression that she needed to come, because she slowly sauntered over.
“Girls, I need for you to go hide in the shed, okay?”
Bex started whining. “But-”
“No buts,” I said sternly. “This is important.”
Stacey put her thumb in her mouth and started sucking, forehead creased. Natalie’s bottom lip began trembling vigorously. Oh dear.
“No-no-no, it’s okay. It’s a game, that’s all. Go hide in the shed and I’ll come back with a big surprise!” I said. Hopefully I wouldn’t. “Go and hide and don’t come out for anyone unless it’s me, okay? Or Ty, you can come out for Ty.”
“Okay Poppy,” Natalie said quietly, biting her bottom lip. I gave her a quick cuddle, then pulled Stacey and Bex in to join it.
“Can Poo Bum play too?” Bex said. “Here, Poo!”
“He’s busy,” I said. “Go. Go-go-go.” I shooed them toward the shed in the backyard. It’s got a few cobwebs but mostly Dad keeps it intact. Bex didn’t want to go in, because the room with the lawn mower, whipper snipper and half-us
ed paint cans isn’t exactly the most fun room we have, so I gave her a good push and closed the door behind them. They all screamed. I opened the door, switched on the light and closed it again. Oops.
My heart thudded in my chest as I tip-toed through the yard toward the house. I leaned against the wall by the open sliding door and listened. My heart clenched, skipping a couple of beats as I heard a thud upstairs. I took a deep breath and stepped inside, looking for one of the cordless phones. Except of course, the cradle in the living room was empty. I hurried quietly over to the couch and dug my hands under the cushions, searching. I found the TV remote, a couple of dimes, some popcorn and mystery crumbs teamed with grotty clumps of dog hair, but alas no phone. A floorboard creaked above me and I scurried into the kitchen, swiping my cell off the counter, and dialled 911.
“Do you require police, ambulance or the fire department?” The woman asked, all business.
“Police,” I whispered. I heard footsteps…they were on the stairs! I opened the nearest drawer and rifled around for a weapon. Something. Anything.
“This is the police department, what is your emergency?”
“There’s someone in my house,” I whispered, crouching behind the counter.
“Are you alone?”
“No, I’m babysitting my little sister and her friends.”
“Where in the house are you?”
“The kitchen.”
“And where is the intruder?”
“They’re coming down the stairs, please hurry!” I hissed, holding my breath again as they reached the bottom of the stairs. There was a moment of silence, aside from my heart pounding, thundering in my ears before footsteps headed into the living room. I slowly rose from the floor and took a couple of baby steps toward the door. The operator was saying something, but I couldn’t answer, they were right there.
I had to see. I reached the doorway and just as I peeped my head around the corner he was there.
I screamed and screamed and started whacking him with the spatula. A spatula, that’s what I’d picked up?
“Get out, get out!” I shrieked. Suddenly he was hit with a cushion from behind, and the TV guide was hurled across the room but fell short by a couple of feet. He shielded his face and was yelling something.
The Kiss Off Page 21