Contents 9 страница

As I finished that thought, my first customers walked in. I stood and got to work, suppressing an eye roll, but after making the fifth coffee, I noticed how time moved much faster when I wasn’t alone with my thoughts. And when Armando came back, I could go home and do the head-burying thing.

My busy streak continued for more than an hour. When I looked up to my next customer, my saliva caught midswallow.

“Josh, ” I squeaked out.

He smiled and blinked his long eyelashes. “Hi, Loann. ”

“Americano? ” I asked, and was instantly embarrassed for remembering his order from weeks ago.

He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. You’re pretty good at your job. ”

I shrugged one shoulder apprehensively. Since there were other customers waiting, I backed away to make his drink.

“How’s your sister? ” he asked over the loud rumble of the coffee grinder.

I waited until I finished grinding, which gave me time to pull a few tendrils of composure together. “Pretty good, I guess. ”

So that was why he was here. He wanted to get back together with Claire and I was his link. I forced a smile and passed over his drink.

“Um. . . two eighty-five, please. ”

He placed a bill in my hand, holding it there, like he’d done last time, but longer. “I was hoping we could get together and talk. Maybe tonight? ”

My throat went dry. In fact, I was pretty sure every drop of liquid in my entire body had suddenly evaporated. He was still holding my hand.

I nodded, or at least I think I did, and he added, “Seven o’clock? Out by the portable classrooms behind the school? ”

He must have early football practice this afternoon if he’d be at the school. All I could do was nod again. Josh glanced back to the person waiting behind him and pulled his hand away.

“Keep the change, ” he said, and left.

He’d given me a ten-dollar bill.

I served the next customers in a daze. I was allowed to date, but surely my sister’s ex-boyfriend wasn’t asking me out on a date. Was it a joke? No, Josh seemed too nice of a guy for that. He must want to talk about Claire. But truly, I didn’t care why he wanted to spend time with me. I’d tell him anything he wanted to know about Claire, or anything else, for that matter.

As I served customer after customer, I came up with a few conversation starters: How Claire spent most of her time at home these days, no new boyfriend yet. Or what about photography? My camera had come from him, after all. Maybe he had suddenly realized how much we have in common.

* * *

The house was deserted when I got home, but I couldn’t sit still. I had to tell somebody about seeing Josh. Of course, I couldn’t very well tell Claire, even if she were home. And I couldn’t tell Marcus.

I picked up the phone and hesitated for a second, then dialed Deirdre’s phone number.

After three rings, I recognized her voice. “Hey, it’s Loann, ” I said.

A pause followed, and then, “Oh, hey! ” like she had to remind herself how to speak. The truth was, it did seem weird, me calling her. Neither of us had ever been phone people.

“I, um, was wondering how your summer’s been? ”

She went on to tell me she’d joined the swim club at the local pool and had been working a few days a week at her mom’s office. “So pretty busy, really, ” she said.

I picked at my thumbnail. It just seemed too weird to call her up out of the blue to tell her I had a date, which wasn’t even really a date. “I—got a job too, ” I said finally. I told her about the Arts Club and she seemed impressed. By the time I’d finished filling her in, she had to leave for swim practice.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in school, then, ” I said.

“For sure, ” she agreed, then said good-bye and hung up.

I stared down at the phone. It’s not like our conversation had gone badly, so why did it leave me feeling so alone?

* * *

After dinner, I took off my oversize LA Kings T-shirt in my room and looked at myself in my bra. Even being alone in my bedroom, I slouched forward to make my breasts look less obvious. My C-cup bra was getting too small and I bulged out of the sides and the middle. Asking Mom for a new one would be out of the question, both for money and embarrassment factors, and the thought of not being able to use my money for more film—well, maybe I’d think about that next month.

As I moved hangers back and forth in my closet looking for something to wear, I swallowed at the spark of an idea.

In my bottom dresser drawer, I dug with both hands until I felt the ribbing I was looking for. I tugged at one of the pink tank tops I’d gotten for my birthday, and studied it. It looked tiny, but it had some stretch, and I might as well make use of at least one of them. I walked over to the mirror, pulling the tank over my head and down so it almost touched my belly button. I glanced back toward the mirror.

No matter how much I slouched, my breasts looked enormous. I angled to the side and then back again. But maybe I could see myself as pretty. Not just my boobs, but the rest of me too. I wasn’t so bad, was I? I wanted to believe, even for just a second, that Josh might really like me.

Claire’s soft footsteps sounded on the stairs. I snatched a button-down denim shirt from the closet, threw it on, and pulled it closed over the tank top. I let out a breath of relief as Claire closed her bedroom door.

I did what I could to tidy my hair, swiped a lip gloss of Claire’s off the bathroom counter, and headed out.

As I dashed down our driveway, my nerves came on in full force. I was going to meet Josh Garrison! What was I thinking? What if I couldn’t think of anything to say?

I should have brought my camera, I thought, a block from the school. I couldn’t seem to keep anything straight tonight.

Before long, the detached classrooms came into view. They were new last year because of a sudden increase in freshman students. They looked like two big orange-and-white trailers from the local fair—like they should house a roomful of clowns. Though considering some of the guys in my Spanish class, that might not be too far off.

I didn’t see any evidence of a recent football practice, or any other signs of life, for that matter. Maybe I had the wrong place. Or maybe—more likely—I’d imagined the whole invitation this morning.

I heard a sound from within the trees beside the portable classrooms and saw a flash of Josh’s light brown hair. I had a moment of boldness and unbuttoned my denim shirt, tying it at the waist to reveal the top beneath. Holding my shoulders back, I tried to feel as beautiful as Claire looked.

When he came into full view, I wanted to run away. I was tempted to slouch forward, button my shirt back to my throat, and hope Josh hadn’t seen me. But at the sound of my name, I knew it was too late.

“Loann. . . hi. ” He spoke just above a whisper.

“Hi. ” My hands started to sweat.

“I’m glad you came, ” he said. “I didn’t know if you would. You look pretty. ”

I laughed a little because, I don’t know, I thought he was joking. But he kept an even smile. “I, um, I was going to bring my camera, ” I said, just to say something.

Josh nodded. “You should have. ” He raised his eyebrows and the motion seemed filled with innuendo.

I didn’t quite get what he meant, so I went on. “I mean, you’re into photography too, right? ” I wanted to get my footing before I said something stupid, like how cute he was, or how much I loved being here alone with him, or how much I wanted him to kiss me the same way I’d seen him kiss my sister.

“Yeah, I never could figure out how to work that old thing, ” he said. “It was my dad’s. But I’m glad you like it. ”

Before my disappointment could register, he reached over and picked up my hand in his. He led me to where there was a blanket on the ground among the trees. It all seemed so romantic. I wondered back to when he and Claire had been together. Had they done stuff like this? All I’d ever seen them do was eat lunch together at school or head up to Claire’s room at home. For once I wasn’t jealous of what Claire had had. I thought maybe. . . maybe this was supposed to be romantic for me.

I considered taking off my shoes and plunking myself down when Josh laced his fingers through mine. He pulled me toward him, and I moved like a rag doll. His other hand lifted my chin.

It was all so surreal. Could this really be happening? With my face tilted toward his, Josh seemed so close, and before I knew it, his lips pressed hard against mine. His tongue thrust into my mouth.

He was kissing me! Josh Garrison was kissing me! A real kiss, not like the little pecks from my aunts and uncles. I guess I didn’t know what to expect from my first kiss, but it was odd. Not like you think when you see it on TV or even when I was watching him and Claire. It felt hard and wet and a little like a dental checkup, him exploring my mouth with his tongue. My stomach flip-flopped and I kept reminding myself not to laugh or pull away. Reminding myself that I was kissing Josh Garrison.

The words “You look pretty” swam in my head. Then: Was it weird, that I was kissing Claire’s ex-boyfriend?

I couldn’t concentrate. It just felt so good to be wanted. That Josh wanted this too.

Both of his hands moved down and fiddled at my waist, and seconds later, my denim shirt fell in the dirt behind me. I pulled my hands over my stomach, but in one smooth motion Josh put them on his waist. I figured if I stayed close to him, my belly fat wouldn’t be as obvious, so I latched my shaky fingers onto the belt loops of his jeans.

As if he could feel my insecurity, Josh’s hands moved to the middle of my back and he drew me in so my stomach and chest were against his. He pulled at the back of my tank top, then through my tank top to my bra. The clasp released and the weight of my breasts dropped from the underwire. Josh kissed me more determinedly, with his lips and his tongue. I didn’t know how to respond. I let my tongue follow his lead, but was that right? Should I have been doing something else? Suddenly I wished I’d listened more to Shayleen, back when she seemed overeager to give me advice.

Josh’s hands stroked the sides of my waist. I wanted to pull his hands away and yank my tank top down, but I held strong and kept my fingers in his belt loops.

He whispered between kisses, “You’re so different from your sister, ” and for some reason in that second, it felt like. . . a compliment.

“You’re beautiful, ” he said next, and I kept letting the word ring through my head as his hands made their way up my front and under my bra.

Claire was right, girls needed to hear these things. Girls needed to feel this way. A dark curl fell in my face and I pushed it away, marveling over how he could think I was beautiful.

“I love your tits, ” he whispered, as he felt their shape. “They’re so much nicer than your sister’s. ”

When he said that, I couldn’t help myself. My tongue thrust into his mouth, suddenly doing its own thing. I kissed him back, feeling exhilarated at each new part of his mouth mine discovered. No one had ever told me I was better than Claire. At anything.

He stroked and fondled my breasts, and I felt out of control as he kept whispering about them. I loved the word “tits” when he said it. I loved how he touched them, and I loved how his mouth felt against mine.

I hardly noticed when he lowered me down onto the blanket. He took off my tank top and bra and I was surprised that my embarrassment about my body had faded. He stopped kissing me to fiddle with the button on my jeans.

“Wha—”

“I bet there’s lots of ways you’re better than your sister, ” he said, and kissed me again. As he caressed my hips, pulling my pants down, I had a wisp of an idea: I could really be as beautiful as Claire. For seconds, maybe even minutes, I let myself get taken away in my beauty and in my arousal.

I let out a gust of air when his whole weight moved on top of me. “It’s okay, I’ve got a condom, ” he whispered.

My eyes shot open. Was he. . . Were we. . . A moment later, a sudden sharpness between my legs made me cry out. It was painful, like a knife.

“Shh, ” Josh whispered.

I pursed my lips together to hold my sounds in. He was going inside me. We were having sex. I was having sex with Josh Garrison.

In a small part of my brain, I knew this was exciting, this was what I wanted. Wasn’t it? If I wanted to kiss Josh, if I wanted to be his girlfriend, didn’t this come with it? So why did it suddenly feel like something else?

I had no idea how I had gotten here or what I was doing.

The sound of the cars in the distance echoed in my head. Ants crawled up my arm. I didn’t move. I lay there with him on top of me, not even believing what was happening. Josh had stopped kissing me and kept his face down beside mine in the blanket. I gritted my teeth, unable to process all the thoughts and emotions swarming through my mind. I did all I could not to cry. I tried to hang on to his words, the way he told me I was pretty, beautiful, even, but with him pushing inside of me, they made my stomach queasy.

Funny, what you think of in moments like these. I didn’t think about Claire or about what my parents would think. I thought about Shayleen. “Romantic” and “tender” and “gentle” reverberated as though they were coming out of her bragging seventh-grade mouth. Although I could relate those words to the soap operas Claire was addicted to, I couldn’t relate a single one to this moment.

When it was done, Josh pushed himself off and dropped onto his back on the blanket. An immediate chill hit me as his sweat on my bare chest made contact with the brisk evening air. A throbbing pain filled my whole lower body. I kept my eyes down while I sat up and gathered my things, feeling extremely shy again about my breasts, my belly fat, my thighs. There was a splotch of blood on the blanket and I quickly tried to cover it while pulling up my pants, but nothing was going back on right.

Josh lay there, breathing heavily. I tried to look over at him, but couldn’t do it. Why had I had sex with a guy I barely knew? A guy who used to date my sister? I fumbled to get my bra back on, but my hands shook. I finally just left the clasp undone and wrapped my denim shirt across my front. Josh caught my hand and held it on the blanket. I wondered if he could feel the earthquake that was erupting inside me. He leaned in and kissed me at the top of my cheek, right on the bone. It was the softest kiss he’d given me all night.

I was sure I was going to fall apart right there in front of him. But then he gave me this smile. It was the same cocky and distanced smile I’d seen him give his friends in the hallways so many times at school. He lifted his hand and patted my cheek twice, then popped up to a standing position like he was ready to run a race.

I didn’t know what any of it meant. I wanted to smile back, but was afraid that any movement on my face whatsoever would break the dam of emotions that I was holding back with all my might.

It wasn’t until he turned away from me and started walking, leaving me and his dirty blanket behind, that I realized what had just happened.

And what I was—or wasn’t—to him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I got home at nine-thirty and went straight to my room. The bathroom door was ajar again, and oddly, I reached over to shut it this time. I’d never really had something to hide from my sister before. But this.

This.

My whole body trembled and shivered, and I threw on my Kings T-shirt over top my clothes. I lay on my bed and stared up at the ceiling, thoughts and feelings piling on one another like a multicar accident, and because I couldn’t process anything of the evening, my thoughts kept returning to Shayleen.

I couldn’t get her and everything she’d told us after the big seventh-grade sex talk out of my brain. The things I questioned were first about her: Had she lied about her sexual experience? Then I started to question myself. Did I do it wrong? Is there something wrong with me? Maybe it wasn’t supposed to hurt like that.

And Josh? I couldn’t even go there. I couldn’t let myself wonder if something so monumental for me had meant next to nothing to him.

I had to talk to someone—and it wasn’t going to be my parents. After a dozen deep breaths, I padded down the hall and knocked on Claire’s door. She told me to wait, and then after what felt like forever, she opened the door with an arm outstretched, inviting me in like she was a welcoming hostess on a cruise ship. I shuffled to her bed and sat down, and the bounce of the mattress caused an M& M’s wrapper to fly out from under it. Claire snatched the wrapper from the floor and threw it into the garbage can beside her desk, which was already nearly overflowing. She shoved it down the side and murmured something about Jasmine. I interrupted her blabbering.

“Does sex hurt? ” My foot fluttered beneath me, but I looked at her intently when I said it. If there was any more lying or denial I wouldn’t miss it like I had with Shayleen. I just wished I’d had this conversation earlier, years ago.

“I don’t know, Loey, I haven’t done it yet, ” she said, flipping through her desk calendar.

I tried not to let the shock register on my face. “What about Josh? ”

“Oh, he wanted to, Loey. Boy, did he want to! ” She laughed and I could tell it was true, and that she was over that whole relationship. “That’s why I broke up with him. I wasn’t ready, and he didn’t want to wait. ”

She broke up with him? Since when? I’d always assumed Josh had broken up with Claire, since she’d been so upset. I’d thought Josh could have had anything he wanted, with anyone. But no, I guess just with me.

Part of me still didn’t believe it, after all the time they’d spent up in her bedroom. Would anyone really pretend to be a virgin if they weren’t one, though? I’d always felt so behind, so naï ve. I studied her. She really wasn’t lying.

I couldn’t process it. She seemed so sure, while I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. What I’d done.

“So you really haven’t done it? ” I forced out.

“No, I want to wait until I’m married, Loey. Why? ”

Married? She sounded serious. Then it hit me. She was proud of her virtue. That would be just like Claire. She stared at me, waiting for an answer. “Uh. . . ” Why, exactly, would I be asking? “Just wondering. ” I sprung up and headed for the door to hide the tears I felt welling up.

“Loey, do you have a boyfriend? ” she asked in a teasing tone. “Come on, Loey. Tell me. ”

I shook my head. Claire tried to chase after me, but I shut her door on her. I got into my room and hooked the lock before dropping onto my bed and letting it all out.

So, what? Josh was just with me to get back at her? To prove something?

I hated him. I hated him and I hated Shayleen. I hated liars. And I even hated Claire, if nothing else, for making it all true.

* * *

All night I tossed and turned. In a groggy stupor, I heard Josh whispering, as though he was right beside me, “It’s okay, I’ve got a condom. ” Over and over again, it ran in my head as if a CD was skipping. It didn’t occur to me until about the twenty-fifth time, that I could be pregnant. I mean, condoms weren’t a hundred percent, right?

Josh had told me he had a condom to reassure me, but I wondered if pregnancy would’ve even occurred to me if he hadn’t. Would I have stopped him if he hadn’t had one? I tried not to think about any diseases the condom may have saved me from, but I couldn’t help myself. How many girls had Josh been with before me? I started to cry again and buried my head under my pillow to deaden the sound.

An hour later, I headed down for breakfast, hoping no one would ask about my red eyes.

Mom raced around the kitchen—not out of the ordinary for seven-thirty on a weekday. Claire sat hunched over a magazine at the kitchen table with a large glass of water. My anger came back in full force and I strode into the kitchen practically begging for a fight.

Sure, Claire had stopped puking, but she still had one fault. She was barely eating.

“Want some toast, Claire? ” I asked.

“Uh. . . no thanks, Loey. You go ahead. ”

Funny how she never questioned what I ate the way she did with Jasmine. Obviously she didn’t care how I looked.

I plunked a piece of bread into the toaster, then stomped to the other side of the kitchen.

“Apple? ” I asked as I picked one up, tossed it in the air, and then held it out toward her. Mom was now chattering on her cell, and turned away from me as if annoyed by my volume.

Claire glanced up and shook her head. I put the apple down and picked up a banana.

“Banana? ” I asked a little louder. She shook her head harder, like she had flying insects in her hair. I walked over and placed the banana on the table in front of her anyway. I went to the pantry and yanked the door open.

“Cereal? ” I asked, walking over and dropping two boxes in front of Claire. Just then, my toast popped up. Claire kept her eyes on her magazine and away from the spread I’d laid before her. I dropped my toast onto a plate, grabbed a knife and the butter, and went to sit down beside her.

Right beside her.

I hated her for being pretty and thin and sweet and honest and virtuous.

I spread a thick layer of butter across the toast within six inches of her face. She did everything she could to ignore me, but her face became pale, then gray, then an odd shade of green, and I wondered if she might puke right here in the kitchen. I scraped another full knife-load of butter out of the container and continued with another smear.

“You sure? ” I held it directly under her nose.

She backed her chair away from the table, stared straight at me, and whispered, “I hate you. ”

Good. Now we’re even.

Mom didn’t notice a thing when Claire stood up and left the room. I was certain the production I’d put on could not have been missed, but Mom faced the wall calendar, telling Mrs. Emerson about Claire’s next dance performance. To top it off, she droned on about how much Claire absolutely loved her ballet!

When Mom hung up the phone, she looked at my grease-dripping toast and said, “Loann, honey, why don’t you have some fruit instead? You’re never going to keep a pretty little figure if you eat like that. ”

I stared at her for a long moment, wondering what I could possibly say in reply. Finally I dropped the toast onto a plate and walked out the door without a word.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

At first I thought maybe I’d just hang out and cry by the river. After all, Marcus had ditched me for work yesterday. If he bothered to show today, I could just ditch him right back. But it wasn’t in my nature to be irresponsible, no matter how much I wanted to. At the very least, I needed to lay out a schedule of which days Marcus would work and which days I would work. Besides, I couldn’t help myself. A small part of me hoped Josh would come back into the café —that maybe I’d read that last look wrong, and the night before had actually meant something to him.

I marched into the café with such purpose I didn’t even notice Marcus alone on the other side of the counter until I’d crossed half the floor. Armando had apparently already left for the day.

I stopped in place. “Oh. I guess you’ve got it today, then. ” I spun for the exit.

“Wait, Loey. ” I didn’t feel like obeying him, but then he added, “Please wait, ” in a quieter voice.

I turned. My venom from the breakfast table with Claire this morning still lingered in my veins. “What? It really doesn’t take two of us to run this place, Marcus. And as you mentioned yesterday—no, wait, yesterday was the day you didn’t bother to show up or call. As you mentioned the day before yesterday, ” I went on, “we’re not really friends. You obviously have no ability to talk about your life with me, and I have no ability to keep my mouth shut, especially about something like this. ” I stared at him for a few seconds, thinking he’d simply nod and we’d be done. But he stepped around the counter and walked toward me.

“Don’t you understand? ” he said in the calmest voice. “This, ” he motioned between himself and me, “this is my life. My whole life. ” His eyes were so intense, so round and pleading, I couldn’t look away. “That other stuff, ” he waved off to the side. “That’s not me. It’s not any part of who I am or who I want to be, and that’s why I don’t want to talk about it with you. ”

He was good. His words started to soften my conviction. Started. “But even if you don’t want it to be, I need to know. ” My soft voice surprised me. “Somebody needs to know. ”

Marcus grabbed one of my hands. Then the other. They were so warm in mine, but today I wasn’t thinking about romance. After last night with Josh, I never wanted to hope for romance again. But I knew Marcus didn’t have it in him to do what Josh had. He would never push me with something like that.

We stood there for a long time, and I could feel Marcus wanting me to look up at him, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t pretend there was nothing wrong when I knew a major part of him was hurting. I couldn’t not see that anymore.

“I need some time, ” he said finally. I was about to protest when he added, “We’ll talk about everything, if that’s what you need. I promise. But. . . not here. Maybe at my apartment. ” I tilted up to look at him. Was he serious? “I just need to figure out a good time. ”

I had so many more questions, but the door opened behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Shayleen. Alone. I pulled my hands back from Marcus.

“Oh. ” She stopped in place and looked at me, then stared down at my hands. “Oh, I thought. . . ” she trailed off and just stood there staring like she’d never seen fingers before. I walked for the counter.

“Iced mocha? ” I asked on my way, then wanted to slap myself. I needed to stop being so obvious about remembering certain people’s orders. To Shayleen it must be obvious how much I lacked having a life. Marcus followed me behind the counter and reached for a cup to make up her order.

“So. . . I heard something, ” she said in this different, almost sweet voice as I passed her the change. For a second her tone reminded me of when I’d truly liked hanging out with her. “About you and Josh Garrison, ” she added, looking over at Marcus.

All the oxygen in the room disappeared and I sucked in nothingness.

“Is it true? ” she asked. The blender whir stopped behind me, and I could feel Marcus’s stare.

It had only been last night! How fast could word have gotten around? Did Josh put all the shameful details up on Facebook or something? I grabbed the side of my T-shirt and twisted it into a ball.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. ” I forced a laugh, like this was funny, even though it so was not.

Shayleen studied my face. She shook her head and let out a little snicker as she took her cup from Marcus. “I didn’t think it could be true, ” she said scornfully. “By the way, your mochas need more chocolate. ”

It took everything I had not to yell after her when she went. But what would I yell? That I had been with Josh last night? That we’d had sex, oh, and by the way, it meant nothing to him? I didn’t want to shout that any more than I wanted to shout about my frizzy hair or my fat thighs.

I remembered Marcus behind me. I wanted to say something, but I barely wanted to admit to myself that any of this was true. We were probably both relieved when the door opened again, this time to a steady stream of customers.

During the next lull, Marcus came up behind me while I finished making us each a latte. I felt him there, right behind me, and it made me nervous. The thought of being close to anyone right now just made my insides squirm. I didn’t want to think about Josh, but I couldn’t help it with Marcus’s chest practically touching my back.