by Seven Steps
Joe came into the kitchen and started to wipe down the oven with a wet sponge.
“I’m going to sleep good tonight,” he said, scrubbing away the saucy stains.
I grunted and loaded a stack of dishes into the sink to be rinsed and moved to the dishwasher.
“Yeah. We made a good team.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
We worked in silent unison, me rinsing the dishes, then him loading the dishes in the dishwasher. When that got full, we started it up and then I washed the pots and pans.
A show about animals blared in the background. Fitting that she would put on animals in the wild as her first foray into television. She probably liked it best when they ate their young.
“Do we really have to listen to lions eating each other while we clean?” Joe asked.
I shrugged, adding some more dish detergent to the pot I’d boiled the macaroni in.
Joe snapped his fingers. “I have the perfect idea.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and laid it on the counter, then pressed a few buttons.
Music started to play.
I recognized the song immediately.
“Perfect Duet” by Ed Sheeran and Beyoncé.
I groaned. I could not do this right now.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Joe. I’m not in the mood for this. I’m mad.”
“I know you’re mad, which is the perfect reason for you to come dance with me.”
“To this? Are you crazy?”
“A little.”
I glared at him. “This is a setup.”
He put his hands up. “Nope. I swear to you that it’s the first thing that came on Pandora.”
“Whatever.”
He crossed his arms across his chest, regarding me.
“Please dance with me?”
I shook my head. “I have dishes.”
“Come on. Friends dance, don’t they?”
There was that word again. Friends. It made me want to throw up.
“Joe, there’s like a million pots.”
“Come on.” He held his hand out. “I’ll wash half of the pots.”
“No.”
“All the pots.”
“No.”
“And I’ll get you an extra bowl of ice cream. I’ll make it just the way you like it too. Rainbow sprinkles and whipped cream. I’ll even run to the store and grab you some loaf cake to go with it.”
Now that was a bargain. “Really?”
He crossed his fingers over his chest. “Scout’s honor.”
I shook my head. This was going to rip my heart out. I just knew it. But the song was so sweet, and he was so close.
I had to go to him. There was no other option for me.
I put down my sponge and wiped my hands on a dish towel, while he restarted the song. Then, with a fluttering heart, I walked into Joe’s arms and allowed him to rock me from side to side in tune with the music.
I closed my eyes, breathing him in deep.
I don’t remember if we held hands or if he wrapped his arms around me.
But I do remember laying my head against his chest, listening to him speak/sing Ed Sheeran’s part. And I remember singing Beyoncé’s verses to him.
I remember the way his heart beat, and how much, in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be his, and for him to be mine.
I wanted that camo hat and his bare feet and his crooked smile and his strong arms and his smarts and his jokes. I wanted every piece of Joe that was available to want, and more.
I wanted to run to the roof and scream it to the world.
But I couldn’t.
All I could do was stay in his arms, while we slow danced in my kitchen, and wish upon stars.
31
I’d tossed and turned the entire night, unable to get Joe out of my head. His smile and his frowns danced through my mind, taunting me. Haunting me.
By the time I arrived at play rehearsal and saw him, I thought it was an apparition. A mirage of my overtired eyes.
But when I saw Charlotte next to him, I knew this was no dream.
They were sitting next to each other toward the back of the auditorium. He was saying something and, ever so often, she’d laugh and touch his arm.
I swallowed.
Joe was not mine. He could be with anyone he wanted. We were just friends.
But her.
Char-latte? The girl who named herself after a Starbucks drink? What did he see in her? Was it the long blond hair? The baby blue eyes? The diva attitude? Did she play video games like me? Did she know his favorite songs like I did? If she cut her foot, would he nurse her back to health like he’d done with me?
Had he done that already?
He said Charlotte wasn’t his type, and yet, I’d seen them on several occasions cuddled up in the auditorium seats.
What was that about?
I swallowed down my jealousy, plugged my headphones into my ears, and walked down the aisle, head held high. When Joe called out to me, I pretended not to hear him.
A part of me felt the pettiness in that act. And a part of me wanted to run from the room, away from Joe and his Irish Spring scent and muscled arms. How could I be friends with him when I wanted to be so much more? He’d nearly kissed me yesterday and now he was laughing with Charlotte? What was up with that?
Rehearsal started, and we took our positions on stage.
“You all right, Jelly Roll?” he asked, coming to stand behind me.
“Great,” I said, a little too loudly.
Newsflash. I was not great.
“I said hi to you when you walked in, but you didn’t hear me.”
Oh, I heard you. Saw you too.
“Really? I must’ve had my headphones in. Where were you?”
“In the seats toward the back.”
“Alone?” My mouth was running away with me and I let it.
He looked slightly taken aback. “No. With Char-latte.”
“Charlotte. Her name is Charlotte.”
He frowned. “Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Peachy.” I heard the word echo off the backstage walls and cringed.
Keep it together, girl. Don’t let him see that you’re hurting.
I turned back to the stage, hyper focused even though there were at least three scenes before I had to get back on stage again.
Right now, I didn’t want to be near Joe. I didn’t want my skin to goose bump when he touched me. I didn’t want to remember what it felt like in his arms. I didn’t want any of it.
I just wanted some air.
I needed some air.
Bad.
I pushed past Joe and walked down the stairs toward the changing areas.
I stayed there until it was time to do my last few scenes. Then, when play rehearsal was done, I was the first one out the door.
If Joe wanted a ride, he could find it himself.
32
Why did I agree to do this?
On Saturday morning, I found myself once again heading toward Eric’s private plane, only this time we were heading to Comic Zone, a comic book convention in Miami, Florida.
I’d nearly forgotten I’d agreed to go with them when Ariel texted me last night, saying she had my two costumes and she’d pick me up at 4:00 a.m.
Yup. Two costumes. Ariel and Eric had entered two couples into the Teen 1980s costume division.
Two couples.
Initially, I figured that I would ask Roberto Gonzalez to go with me. He and I had seen each other a few times and had gotten along well. But, now that I was on a boy ban, Roberto wasn’t an option.
So, I decided to ask the only boy I knew for sure would not make out with me at the end of the night.
Josiah texted me two seconds after I texted him and readily agreed. Apparently, he didn’t have anything going on in his life either.
And, since he and Roberto were about the same size, I wouldn’t have to adjust the costume. So, win-win.
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Right?
I didn’t have to sneak out this time, since Mom and Quincey had left early on a church bus trip. I was glad. I wasn’t sure if it was Quincey’s batty ideas or my own conscious finally coming to life, but lately, I’d been feeling bad about all the lying I’d been doing. Part of me wondered if I should be more honest with my mom, while another part of me wondered how honest she was being with me. Especially about my dad.
I’d Googled information about birth certificates last night. After giving it some thought, I wondered if Dad wasn’t on my birth certificate because he’d died the day I was born. But, if that was the case, Mom could’ve filled out the paperwork to perform a genetic test on his body and add him anyway. I knew my mom, and when it came to getting what she was entitled to, she went after it tenaciously. And if I was entitled to any military benefits, Mom would have made sure I received them.
Was that why his name wasn’t on the certificate? Because she couldn’t afford the fees for the test? If so, why didn’t she just say that? Why did she act like it was some big secret? And why did she get so angry?
No, this wasn’t a simple matter of filing paperwork. Something else was going on. Something she didn’t want me to know about.
How was I supposed to be honest with her when she couldn’t be honest with me?
Joe and I piled into Eric’s limo along with Ariel and headed to the airport.
Eric held out his hand. “Joe, nice to meet you again.”
“You too. Thanks for inviting me.”
“No worries. We were just happy we didn’t have to alter the costumes.” He passed Joe and me bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches, while he and Ariel ate hot oatmeal and tea.
“So, you’re the new quarterback for the lions?” Eric asked.
“Yup. Starting in September.”
“How’s my old team treating you?”
“Old team?”
“Yup. I used to be the quarterback. Before me was Julius Samson and before him was Jake Winstead. You’re the fourth this year.”
Joe swallowed the mouthful of sandwich he’d been chewing. “Is the team cursed or something?”
“I wouldn’t say cursed. More like… well… maybe it is cursed.”
“What happened to those other guys?”
“Business school,” Eric said, pointing to himself. “Then blown out knee. And, deportation to Russia.”
“Harsh.”
“Yup. But I’m sure you’ll be fine. And if not, Russia is very nice in the summer.”
Joe scoffed but continued to eat his sandwich.
“You’re going to love the outfits we have picked out,” Ariel said. “You’ll never guess what they are.”
“Well, it’s the eighties, and I’m sure it’s some sort of cartoon or cult figure. Maybe Superman and Lois Lane?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You would say that.”
“Can I help that I have an affinity for him?”
“No, but Superman isn’t everything.”
He grinned. “Fair enough. But, if it’s not the Man of Steel, then I can only assume it’s something not as awesome. Uh, Transformers?”
“No, but close,” I said. “What would be the most amazing costume you can think of?”
“Besides Superman?”
“Yes. Besides Superman.”
Joe regarded me, then his eyes lit.
“No way.”
I nodded. “Yes way.”
“You’re lying.”
“Nope.”
“What? That’s awesome. Do you remember the song?”
“How can I forget? Thundercats are on the move.”
“Thundercats are loose.”
We laughed hard. Maybe too hard. When I turned to Ariel and Eric, they were staring at us with brows raised and small smiles on their faces.
I quickly closed my mouth and cleared my throat.
“Joe likes Thundercats,” I explained.
“Loves Thundercats,” he said. “My older brother made me watch it when I was a kid all the time. It’s awesome.”
Eric smiled at Ariel, then at Joe. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Hopefully it’ll win us some prizes.”
“What are you guys going as?” Joe asked.
“Who else? Link and Zelda.”
Joe nodded. “I guess I’m not the only dork in the car.”
“If you like comic books and video games, consider us brethren.”
Eric and Joe shook hands again.
“Let the bromance begin,” Ariel said with a grin.
Three hours and one game of Monopoly later, which I dominated, by the way, we arrived at the Comic book convention and put on our full costumes.
I had to admit, I was digging the orange boots, orange body suit, cheetah makeup, and blond wig.
“You know, when I woke up this morning, I didn’t think I’d be wearing tights,” Joe said.
He was, in fact, wearing tights. Flesh-colored ones, and, in classic Lion-O fashion, a blue cropped shirt, blue tight shorts, and a red wig.
He definitely had the body to pull it off, all big and muscled, but I could tell by the way he kept covering himself that he was a little embarrassed.
“It’s a little tight, isn’t it?” he said.
I shook my head, my eyes glued to his impressive figure. “No. It’s perfect. You’re going to have the girls falling all over you.”
He scoffed, but already I saw four or five girls staring at him and whispering. It made me wish I were really Cheetara so I could scratch their eyes out.
“Come on,” Eric said. “The contest is starting soon.”
Both he and Ariel had elf ears. Eric’s costume was a gray shirt layered over a longer green one with brown pants and boots, while Ariel wore a long dress and gold metal plates along her arms and shoulders.
They looked amazing.
Still, my eyes were glued to Joe’s Lion-O.
We walked to the holding area, where we’d have to present ourselves onstage in front of the judges and audience. Once everyone was seen, they’d pick a winner.
“Back on stage, huh?” Ariel said.
“Yeah.”
“Nervous?”
“A little.”
“Come on. You were born on the stage. This little crowd is going to be a walk in the park.”
“But what if they boo us? What if we suck?”
“We look amazing. I had an expert help me with these costumes.”
“You mean your sisters?”
“Exactly. And don’t worry. If they boo, they boo. That’s part of life.”
“Yeah, the worst part.”
She put her hand on my back. “Still nervous from the Spring Fling?”
“Yeah. Even with the play, it’s hard to get on stage. I get so shaky. If it weren’t for Joe, I don’t think I could do it.”
Ariel smiled. “Joe’s a pretty nice guy, huh?”
“He’s okay, I guess.”
“Just okay? He’s punched like ten people for you, and now he’s dressed in his underwear and about to parade himself in front of hundreds of people. I’d say that deserves more than okay.”
“Come on, Ariel. It’s not like that.”
“Really? Because he hasn’t taken his eyes off you all day. And believe me, if a guy is staring at you like that, while wearing an embarrassing costume, then he’s all for you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know Joe. We’re friends. He’s told me so on multiple occasions.”
“He told you, or he showed you?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he told you that you two were friends. But his body language is saying something totally different.”
“Such as?”
“Really, Sophia? Don’t be so obtuse. Aren’t you the one who’s an expert on boys?”
“Yeah, well, I guess I’m a little rusty.”
“You’re ridiculous. You know he likes you.”
“As a friend.”
“As more than
a friend.”
My heart lurched as someone spoke the words I’d tried to hide from myself.
Could he like me like that?
No. He told me he liked me as a friend. Nothing more. Plus, he’d spurned my many advances over the last month.
I shook my head. “No. We’re just—”
“Friends. Yeah, I heard you.”
Her eyes darted to the left then quickly returned to me. I followed her gaze and saw that Joe’s attention was firmly on me, though Eric was talking to him.
My face flushed.
Could he?
Could we?
No. No, that’s not what he said.
Ariel bumped me with her hip. “Girl, you’d better get ready.”
“For what?”
“That boy ban is going out the window.”
I scowled. “No. I’m not that person anymore. I’m different now.”
“Yes, you are. And I’m proud of you.” She shrugged. “Maybe it’s those differences that are keeping away the frogs and landing you a prince.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but we were called up and I missed my chance.
We approached the stage, and I felt my heart flutter.
“You okay, Jelly Roll?” Joe asked.
I let out a breath. “I think so.”
He nodded and took my hand. “If you get nervous, just do what we do with the play. Keep your eyes on me.”
That was part of my problem. My eyes were on him a little too much.
Still, as we walked the short catwalk, that’s exactly what I did. Whenever I got nervous, I just looked at Joe, and suddenly I felt peaceful again. Calm.
An hour later, they announced that Joe and I had won our team division.
He was so happy that he swung me around.
And, as we ascended the stage to accept the prize, our eyes found each other again.
There was only us on the stage.
And everything felt right. But how could it feel right when it was all so wrong?
33
We made a quick stop at Walt Disney World on the way home simply so that Eric and Ariel could see the fireworks and have dinner.
Again.
This millionaire life was great.