Authors: Lisa Gail Green
“Great,” he says. I can feel the jealousy roll off of him, and I’m surprised he isn’t turning green.
“Did it look realistic enough? I’m really worried I won’t do a good job in front of all those people.”
“It looked pretty real to me,” he says, tossing the bag to me and preparing his bow. He’s made himself some pretty cool night-vision goggles, and he’s preparing to test them out.
“Hey, man. You aren’t upset about the kissing thing, are you?” He pauses with his bow at the ready. I can see the muscles in his arms tense, his breath puff out in the cold night air.
“No. I told you before, I get that it’s part of the play. It’s just…you make it look pretty good, you know?”
“Well, I’m not going to lie and say it was awful, but I really am just doing my part.”
“What’s it like?” he asks, motioning me to get ready.
“What?”
“Kissing Grace? Kissing…anyone?”
“It’s nice. Her lips are warm, soft, and smooth. So ready to be kissed. Like ripe fruit. She’s probably waited a long time for just the right guy. Not everyone is like that. Some girls are kind of over-eager and slobbery. Some are expert kissers. One girl even missed my mouth entirely once.”
“Have you
done it
before?” he asks. He lowers his weapon a little and sounds like that uncertain boy I first met at his locker.
“You mean sex? Sure. Many times. Once you do it, you can’t get enough.”
“Do you think you could give me some pointers?” he asks and nods, indicating I should open the bag. The cat darts out, black as the sky. Only its eyes reflect the light of the moon as it races up the tree toward precious freedom.
“Sure. I can tell you exactly what I would do to Grace.”
The arrow flies, and for the first time in weeks, he’s missed his target.
Tommy Two scampers around my ankles in a dance of joy. He’s got a complete bill of health now, and I don’t need to take him to a vet to figure that out. I laugh at his big brown eyes and floppy tongue hanging lopsided outside of his mouth.
I feel bad for leaving him alone every night despite the comfortable spot I’ve created for him behind the school. A small pile of soft blankets for him to burrow in and a stockpile of food and water. I can’t exactly bring him with me to Heaven. Somehow I know Ms. Alvarez would never allow it.
At least I’ll be with him tonight.
Mrs. Deeb answers the door and takes in the sight of me, complete with Tommy and my flowery pink sleeping bag. She smiles and invites me inside. Fatmeh lives in a beautiful tri-level house. The vaulted ceilings and clean wood floors impress me the moment I walk in.
“Are you sure it’s OK to keep Tommy here with me overnight?” I ask.
“Certainly, Grace. We love animals. Go right on up.” My eyes trail all the way up the winding steps to the third floor, where I can already hear music blaring.
I still can’t believe Ms. Alvarez agreed to let me go to a sleepover. I almost wanted her to say no, so I wouldn’t have to hang out all night with Shelby and Fatmeh talking about boys. Their favorite boy, to be exact. My Josh. But no. Ms. Alvarez thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Perhaps I can fix one of them up with Cam, she says. She even supplied me with the Sandra Dee sleeping bag, like I’m ten or something. Maybe after hundreds of years, she really doesn’t remember what it’s like being sixteen.
“Gracie!” Shelby squeals the moment she spots me. “And that must be Tommy! Oh, he’s sooo cute.” She scoops him up in her arms and makes kissy faces while he licks her all over.
“Hi guys. Thanks for inviting me,” I say, rolling out my sleeping bag on the floor. Fatmeh raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment on my taste, and I decide she really is a good friend.
“How could we have a sleepover the night before the play and not invite Juliet?” she says.
“Are you nervous?” Shelby asks, eyes wide.
“I still don’t know how I got myself into this situation,” I say.
“Let’s do facials! That’ll relax us,” Fatmeh says. She takes out what looks like a suitcase full of scrubs and masks and lotions and begins working on our faces. I’m missing Emily terribly and all the sleepovers I had at her house. We didn’t do facials, but we used to take turns doing each other’s hair.
“So, he’s really a gift for Cam?” Shelby asks, rubbing Tommy’s stomach.
“Yes.” They exchange looks. “What?”
“It’s just, we thought you and Josh…” Fatmeh lets her voice trail off.
“Cam and I are just friends.”
“And Josh?” Shelby leans forward in her seat.
“I don’t know,” I admit. She settles back, disappointed.
“He is
hot
. If you don’t get together with him soon, someone else will,” Fatmeh says.
“I thought I actually stood a chance for like two minutes, myself,” says Shelby.
“What do you mean?” I ask. I can’t help it.
“Well, I remember the day of the auditions, after school, I thought we were going to make this connection, but the next thing I knew he was gone. He hasn’t said more than two words to me since then.” She seems so down, I feel guilty. That was the night we went out for pizza.
“Well, I for one am moving on. I heard him laughing at me today.”
“Oh, Fatmeh! I don’t think he meant anything by it!” I say.
“I don’t know, Grace. Remember what you said in the library that day? You said evil doesn’t always look like a monster, or something like that.”
“Evil? That’s a stretch, don’t you think? One mistake and suddenly he’s the devil?” I’m standing because I can’t help being angered by this.
“Take it easy, Grace. I didn’t mean he’s Shaitan or anything.”
“Shaitan?”
“That’s the Muslim word for Satan,” says Shelby.
“Now Cam on the other hand,” Fatmeh says.
“What do you mean?” I ask, calming down enough to sit.
“I don’t know. The guy just gives me the creeps, you know?”
“There is something a little off about him,” says Shelby. They both look at me, waiting to hear my response.
“Cut him a break, guys. He’s had a rough life.”
“Oooh, spill!” Shelby says.
“Never mind,” I say quickly. “It doesn’t matter what happened before. Because by the time I’m done with him, Cam’s going to be a typical well-adjusted kid.” I give Tommy a pat.
“Yeah,” says Shelby with a snort. “And when you’re done with that, I’ll take a size three body and an extra four inches, please.”
I don’t feel like following Keira down to Dearborn for another night of clubbing. I don’t know how she does it. I’ve only been going for a month or two, and I’m already sick of it. So I make my excuses and head down to the mall instead.
Apparently, I’m not the only one from school who had that idea. I’ve already seen about half the student body milling around the food court. So I turn on my heels and head for the cover of the nearest department store. I’m tempted to just call it a night when something catches my eye.
Gerald Spence is hovering near the jewelry counter. The reason this sends up a red flag is that Gerald Spence is the quintessential jock of North Farmington High School. He’s captain of the football team and plays basketball and softball in the off seasons. He’s almost as good-looking as me, so it isn’t uncommon for him to be seen with several giggling girls at his side. One girlfriend? Forget it. I mean, yes, he’s dated several cheerleaders, but I somehow don’t see him as a “one girl” kind of guy.
So this begs the question: for whom is he buying jewelry?
Curiosity gets the best of me, and I wade through the racks of men’s clothing until I’m at a better vantage point. Hey—I’ve got nothing better to do tonight. I’ve already paid my dues to Cam, and I’m trying like Hell to keep Grace out of my head, afraid I’ll go insane if I think about her.
“Can I see some more?” he asks. The saleslady forces a smile that says
this kid can’t afford it, he’s wasting my time
and takes her key to the other side of the counter. Gerald couldn’t be more obvious, glancing around like a toddler about to pull the cookie jar off the top shelf. Lucky for him, I’m the only one watching.
He fingers one of the rings set out on the velvet cloth and stuffs it in his pocket. Moron. Like she’s not going to notice that? I shake my head, disappointed that the dumb jock stereotype proves so true with him. Still, I remember the first time I lifted something, and I didn’t do much better. Of course, I was about twelve. He’s seventeen, he should know better by now.
The saleswoman is coming back now, with a tray full of engagement rings. Gerald slides the one in his pocket back on the counter at the last second and runs a hand back through his short-cropped hair. So his conscience is eating at him. Yeah, I remember feeling that too—for about ten seconds.
“I can’t believe I got called down here from work because my loser son was busted stealing candy,” my dad had said that day. I can still see the sneer on his face beneath the stubble.
“Sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. I was pretty sure this meant a beating.
“
Candy
? Shit, son, if you’re going to risk getting caught you could’ve at least gotten something worth something. Idiot.”
“Guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”
“Don’t give me that sarcastic attitude! That’s an hour of work I lost because of you.”
I touch my cheek where I can still feel the sting of his hand. At least Gerald’s going for something the old man would have approved of. Diamonds. But does he have the balls to do it? I watch.
“Do you need any help?” Another saleswoman spots me spying in the clothes rack. She thinks she’s got me up to no good. I see it in her eyes.
“No. Go distract that sales woman over there at jewelry,” I say. Her face blanks for a second, and she nods obediently, heading for Gerald’s counter.
“Excuse me, Mia? I need your help over here,” she says. Mia looks annoyed, but since she doesn’t see this sale going anywhere, she agrees. She takes the tray of rings to put back, but my girl grabs her wrist. “It’ll just take a second, let him look.”
She buys it. She leaves it all right there in temptation’s path. I smile at the look on Gerald’s face. Like he can’t believe his luck. He glances around again and stuffs two of the rings in his pocket this time, rearranging the tray so it looks undisturbed. Yeah. That’s more like it.
But Gerald isn’t through. He hesitates and pulls the rings back out again, examining them in his palm.
Come on
. And I wonder, suddenly, why I want him to do it so bad. Why do I want him to follow my path? Doom him to eternal torture? What did he ever do to me?
I see the two sales associates coming back. Gerald sees them, too, and moves to put the rings back in his pocket.
Grace’s face hovers in my mind, chewing on her hair in a disapproving way.
“Hey Ger!” I call, sliding out of my hiding place. He freezes, face turning blotchy and red. Like I said,
almost
as good-looking as me.
“Um, hi. Do I know you?”
“Well, I’m not on the football team, but I do go to North. Whatcha got there?” I ask, pointing to the two rings in his hand.
“Nothing. I mean, I’m looking for a gift. None of your business.” Can’t make up his tiny mind.
“Have you made a decision?” Mia the associate asks, straining to be polite. Hope she doesn’t hurt herself there.
“I’m going to pass tonight,” he mumbles, setting the rings back down on the velvet cloth. Mia looks like he’s just confirmed every bad thought she’s had about him.
“See ya around,” I say. Time to take off. He might still do it, but it isn’t gonna happen tonight, and it won’t be because I helped him. My eyes burn as my father’s voice echoes inside my head.
You even make a pathetic Demon
.
I ring the bell. It’s Friday, her day off this week, and Mrs. Frasier takes her time getting to the door. She’s in her bathrobe when she answers, a cigarette hanging from her lips. Her face is just as sallow in the morning light. Her hair is still in desperate need of some TLC. She looks me over with pity in her eyes, and the butt nearly falls from her mouth when she sees what I’m holding.
Tommy Two is whimpering slightly. I can’t blame him. He must be terrified that I’m going to hand him off to another abusive owner. I was saddened to realize his injuries were not the result of a run in with another stray, but the product of a human hand. The tip cut off his ear was no bite. It was clean, like a wound made by a knife. I wonder who could possibly be so cruel.
“What is
that
?” she asks with disgust dripping from every word.
“It’s a dog. Mrs. Frasier, I’d like you to meet Tommy Two.”
“You’re insane. Get that mongrel out of here right now,” she says, trying to slam the door in my face. I put out a hand and hold it steady; try with all her might, she cannot get it to budge.
“Mrs. Frasier, this is just what Camden needs,” I say it, looking in her eyes and willing her to yield. I did it only once before, with the bouncer at the club. It works beautifully the second time as well.
“That’s just what Camden needs,” she echoes. Her entire posture has changed. She’s relaxed back on her heels and is actually smiling. I can see she must have been a very pretty woman once. She could be again.
“Don’t you want to invite us in?”
Cam comes out of his room still in his pajamas. It is now almost eleven in the morning, and he doesn’t even notice us until he goes to close the fridge door. The milk in his hand slips to the floor, spilling out, and Tommy Two runs to lick up the treasure. Mrs. Frasier laughs and so do I. I’m not sure what is more startling to him, my being in his kitchen, his mother laughing, or Tommy Two bounding happy and healthy around his feet.
“Grace?” he asks, as though afraid I’m an apparition.
“That’s my name,” I say, and Mrs. Frasier laughs again.
“What have you done to my mother?” he asks, dumbfounded. He bends to examine her, looking for signs of foul play.
“She hasn’t done anything to me, you little shit.” She reaches up and slaps him across the face. As soon as she remembers her company, her anger turns to embarrassment. “I’m sick of your smart mouth.”