Narc (14 page)

“Here we go.” I found a jar, about an inch long and the same murky orange as a medicine bottle. There was still a smidge of powder left in it. That must have been it.

I tugged Morgan out of the car in the bank parking lot. She teetered backward, like she was going to fall, then collapsed against me. I dragged her along, as if she’d morphed into a zombie, her wide eyes fixed in some other time zone. Then she threw up on the sidewalk. Even the noise was enough to make the back of my throat tickle. When she finished, she just wiped her mouth. No big deal.

As we staggered towards the alley, a security guard hustled over. He didn’t look happy.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I said.

The guard scowled at Morgan. “Has your friend been drinking?”

Skully slid between us. “Too much caffeine.”

“You guys have some identification?” the guard asked.

Skully fumbled around in her tote bag. I pulled out my wallet. Morgan wasn’t exactly helping. In fact, she was sliding around on the sidewalk without lifting her feet.

“Can I talk with you alone for a second?” I asked him.

“We can discuss it right here. Your girlfriend,” he said, gesturing to Morgan, “is going straight to the drunk tank. She’ll spend the night there. Sleep it off, you know? Sober up.”

“Her parents are going to kill me. Please. Just let me talk to someone,” I said.

The guard stepped closer. No doubt hoping to get a whiff of booze on my breath. “Who do you want to talk to?”

I could’ve called the lead officer, but what the hell would I say? I glanced back at Skully, who had taken this opportunity to jump in the car.

“Get in, man!” Brent hollered.

Like an idiot, I grabbed Morgan’s hand and started running.

The security guard was swearing, then I couldn’t hear him anymore. They guy hadn’t gotten a good look at our IDs; we might be okay. I shoveled Morgan in the rear door. Before I even slammed the door, Brent peeled out. The brakes squealed as we lurched onto the highway.

Skully smacked him. “This is so messed up. The last time I went to jail was never. And just so you know … there’s no frigging way I’m doing this again. Everything else was rad, though.”

Morgan slumped against me. “Think I’m going to puke,” she mumbled.

“You already did that,” I told her. “We’ve got to take you somewhere.”

“Any ideas?” Brent asked.

“We could drive back to my place,” said Skully.

“Forget it,” he said. “That’s too far away.”

“Don’t you live around here?” Morgan slurred.

“Yeah, but … ” I mumbled.

My mom was a nurse. She would take one look at Morgan and know what’s up. I checked the time on my cell. Maybe Mom was at work? I couldn’t keep up with her crazy schedule. I wasn’t even sure if she was home or not.

“Well?” Brent asked.

“Turn left at the light,” I told him.

14 :
Crazy Good

We drove back to the apartment. I stretched the rubber band around my wrist and stared out the window, watching the headlights gobble up the dark. The girls were going to see my place, the dirty laundry, the mess, and wonder why I was camping in the living room.

I twisted the rubber band so tight, I lost circulation. By the time we pulled up to the apartment, I wondered if it was over. Finch had probably shown and left. I seriously doubted that he would wait.

“This is your place?” Skully asked. “I mean, you actually live here?”

I nodded.

“Sweet,” she said.

Mom saw us as soon as we pulled up. It looked like she’d just gotten back from the store or something. Now she stood there by the front door, hands on her hips, plastic bag hanging from one wrist. I was pretty sure she’d been drinking.

“What’s the deal, mister?” she asked.

“Everything’s cool, Mom,” I told her. Another lie.

My oh-so-exciting Saturday nights were usually spent in front of the computer playing Call of Duty. No doubt Mom was curious about my new friends.

Morgan got out and wobbled next to me on the sidewalk. “This was definitely a journey,” she said, slow and thick. She had started to come around again, shaking her head and saying things like, “I’m flailing hardcore.”

“As mellow as you are,” I said, “you can be a total psycho.”

“I know,” she whispered. “You better bust out some crazy good weed later.”

Hopefully, Mom didn’t hear that part.

“Wait,” Morgan said. “This isn’t your house, is it?”

Before I could make up an excuse, Mom beckoned us inside. “Well don’t just stand there in the street like a bunch of damn criminals.”

This was already getting embarrassing. I flinched. “Give us a second, okay?”

Mom looked at her watch. “Okay. Time’s up.”

“Oh, my god.” Skully laughed like this was the funniest thing ever. “Your mom’s hilarious, Double A.”

“Now there’s a lady with a sense of humor,” Mom said.

“Damn straight.”

“Can’t pull the wool over your ice. That’s what the Marx brothers used to say. You wouldn’t know them. They were before your time.”

“Are you kidding?” Skully said. “I freaking love the one where Harpo pretends to be Groucho in a mirror.”

Mom grinned. “We’re going to be good friends.”

The girls’ heels clattered across the lobby’s hardwood floors. Except it wasn’t really hardwood. More like particleboard. This was majorly awkward.

“Watch for nails,” said Mom. “They tore out the carpets last week.”

“Smells rank,” said Brent.

Upstairs, the stink was even worse: moldy wallpaper and leftover chicken chow mein. Mom unlocked the door. Everybody ran around, checking out the digs. Mom headed straight for the kitchen.

“Nice space. It needs more fabric elements, though. Where do you sleep?” Skully asked.

“Here.” I unfolded my bed from the wall.

“Yo. That’s old school,” said Brent, flopping into it. “Did it come with the original stains?”

“Um. No. That’s actually an old futon mattress. This place is just temporary … until my mom gets her nursing degree.” I was rambling now. Beyond embarrassed.

Morgan looked more alive now. She was taking pictures with her cell phone, documenting my laundry piles. Was there any chance that Finch would show up late? After what I’d seen tonight, I hated him more than ever. He had taken advantage of people at school and put Morgan in danger. She had called him “the only real” guy she knew, yet he was the biggest fake of all.

Well, maybe not the biggest.

Haylie came out of the bedroom, wearing my faded Andre the Giant T-shirt with the stretched-out collar. “Whoa,” she said. “How come I wasn’t invited?”

The girls oohed and aahhed over my little sister. She kind of had that effect on people.

Haylie squeezed between them and started talking nonsense, as usual. “Your hair is so amazing,” she said, petting Skully’s spikes. “I’ve always wanted to shave the back of my head.”

“Since when?” I asked.

Haylie kept going. “And the color is totally badass. Did you do it yourself?”

“Yes ma’am,” said Skully. “The magic of Kool-Aid.”

Great. Now my sister was getting styling tips from Skully.

“What’s up, rocker? Look at you, dressing all scene,” Morgan said, slipping her thumb inside the waistband of my too-tight and crumpled jeans.

“They shrank in the wash,” I mumbled.

“Didn’t your mom teach you how to do laundry?” She leaned forward, giving me a peek of her sunburned shoulders, among other things.

“We should style him,” Skully announced, as if I wasn’t even in the room.

Morgan grabbed a comb and had a field day with my hair. Not that I minded.

“All the better to hide your crying emo eyes,” she said, raking my bangs.

Haylie laughed. “Your guys are way cool. Next time you have a makeover party, let me know.”

Mom had broken out the skillet and started sizzling hotdogs. We ate off paper plates, camped around the TV. Skully sang along to the commercials on Telemundo, where everything was in Spanish except for words like
Whopper
.

Haylie kept playing with her cell phone the whole time. “My friend’s picking me up,” she said, dropping her plate next to the sink.

“Isn’t it kind of late to go out?” I asked, but she ignored me.

Lately my sister was never around. Yeah, it was Saturday night. Haylie always had more of a social life than me. At the same time, I couldn’t help wondering where she had disappeared to. And with who.

“Want to go outside for a puff?” Brent asked me.

Mom twitched an eyebrow. She’d never seen me smoke.

“Be back in a sec,” I told her.

Brent pounded down the stairs. “Damn. How long you been living in this shithole?”

“Not long,” I said. This was worse than I’d expected. Epic humiliation.

We slipped out the back door, into the sandy lot where the tenants parked their cars. A stray tabby was perched on top of Dad’s pickup. When we stepped closer, the cat hurtled into the bushes.

“It must suck, not having your own room,” Brent said.

“Thanks for reminding me.” What the hell? This was all my mom could afford.

I checked my phone. Somebody had called without leaving a message.

“Recognize this number?” I asked him.

He gawked at it. “Nope. Doesn’t look familiar.”

“They called like, four times in a row,” I said. “Probably when Morgan was having her moment or whatever. Are you sure it’s not Finch?”

“Call them back. That’s the only way to find out.”

I hit redial. The phone rang and nobody answered, not even a machine.

When we got back inside, I found Morgan hunched in front of my laptop, pecking away. Shit. The lead officer never contacted me through e-mail, but there was plenty of other stuff I didn’t want Morgan to find. I’d been Googling everybody’s names from the whole damn school.

“Just checking my e-mail. Your mom said it was all good,” she told me.

I bit my lip. The last time I logged online, I didn’t clear my history. Hopefully, Morgan wasn’t the snooping type, but somehow I doubted it.

“Let’s go to the roof,” I said. A lame attempt at changing the subject. This entire evening had been an epic fail.

The girls squealed.

Mom clapped her hands and said, “I’m going to hit the sack. Just don’t wake the neighbors, okay, mister?” She seemed weirdly okay with me having people over with no notice, especially given Morgan’s loopiness when we arrived. Maybe she just felt better knowing where I was.

I lead the way, up into the stairwell. The steps creaked as we climbed past the busted fuse box. I kicked open the door and everybody checked out the glittering skyline.

“There’s Wendy’s. I heart their chili,” said Morgan, snapping a picture.

Brent tried to light a cigarette, but the breeze snuffed it. “Looks like somebody got the party started,” he said, kicking an empty beer can. “Let’s do something.”

“Aaron can do magic,” said Morgan.

“Magicians are hot,” Skully added.

Brent glared at me. “Aren’t you a little old for card tricks?”

“I’m not big into cards,” I told him.

“So what do you do?”

Okay. This was it.

I stepped a few feet away from them. Tilting my body at an angle, I balanced on tiptoe. Then I lifted up, raising my feet off the ground. The girls screamed. Brent hopped backward, stumbling over himself, and tried to act all cool, as if he wasn’t scared shitless.

I couldn’t believe it. Damn. I’d actually pulled off the levitation trick that I’d been practicing for months.

“Okay, okay,” Brent said. “That was freaky. Now tell us how you did it.”

Morgan clutched her chest. “I thought I was going to pass out. That was, like, real magic.”

“ ‘Real magic’? What the hell is that?” Brent was losing his cool now.

I thrust my arm in front of him. “Lay off, okay?”

“Oh, you’re her boyfriend now?”

Morgan was looking at me, her lips slightly parted, inviting. And then I leaned in, slow, and covered her mouth with my own. We kissed and it wasn’t like before. It was more like she was pulling something out of me, reaching down inside, and taking hold, tight. Her lip ring bumped against my teeth. When she finally slipped away, I heard brakes squealing on the boulevard, pigeons rustling all around, and my own quick gasps. Now there was a sliver of gum sliding across my tongue, a little secret between us.

Brent flicked his cigarette on the ground and stomped it. Then he picked up one of the deck chairs and clattered it across the roof, knocking over empty beer bottles. A spray of broken glass flew in all directions. I looked at my ankle, at the tiny beads of blood dotting my skin. When I wiped them away, they popped up again.