Dismantling Evan (22 page)

Mom slips me a twenty dollar bill before I leave. She and Grandma are having late afternoon iced coffee in the kitchen. “Have fun. Text me when you are on your way home. Love you,” she says as I hug her and Grandma. Before I disappear down the hall she asks, “Who are you all going to meet down there at the carnival?”

I tell her I don’t know, but she looks at me suspiciously.

“What?” I ask.

She shrugs and looks at Grandma. “Nothing. Just don’t get into any trouble or hang around anyone that could get you in trouble, okay?”

“Okay.” I walk out the front door.

Even now, sitting in Asher’s car with Nikki and Lia as we drive down the main street of our neighborhood, her coded question has me worked up and wondering what she means.

The entire time, at the carnival, I think about Mom’s words. Is she talking about Nikki, Lia, and Asher or someone else? Brody? Gavin? Nikki is different, not extreme Goth or rocker chic rebel or anything. Lia is sweet and even if she does dress in long sleeves in 105 degree weather, she isn’t a bad influence.

Brody and Gavin don’t up and I have a feeling Asher has got a text from Brody. “They aren’t coming, “Asher says.

“Why not?” Nikki asks.

“Says that something came up at home.” Asher puts his phone away and grabs Nikki around her waist, lifting her up to kiss her.

We decide to head home. Nikki says we are dropping off Lia first. I am starting to get my bearings in the neighborhood now; there is a section that has these ginormous homes set with huge front yards, and landscape lights that highlight the stone. That’s the section we’re in now.

Nikki speaks up. “This is the fancier part of the neighborhood. Ash lives a block down on the right.” Nikki points in the general direction.

Ash looks at her, humbly. “It’s just a house. Doesn’t matter if it is fancier.”

Over the last few weeks, I have gathered that Asher’s parents are pretty well off. His dad holds some kind of corporate position and his mom, who might be the sweetest mother I have ever met, maintains the house and runs his younger brother and sister around.

Nikki smiles at him and says, “If you lived in a cardboard box, I would love you just the same, baby.”

He takes their joined hands and kisses hers.

I smile at their show of affection and glance at Lia expecting to see the same from her, but instead she looks preoccupied, nervous almost. She is fidgeting with the sleeves of her shirt, like she has an itch she can’t scratch or something.

I whisper to her, “You okay?”

“What? Oh, yeah, just had an itch that’s all.” She doesn’t look at me when she answers, she just nods quickly then looks out the side window of the Jeep.

As soon as the Jeep pulls up to her house, which is beautiful, she jumps out barely saying goodbye, before shutting the door and walking quickly up the long walkway to her house.

It seems odd and even Asher notices it. “She okay?” he asks as he glances at me then Nikki

“She said it was nothing.” I add.

Asher starts to pull away as soon as she disappears behind the wrought iron doors of her house.

“So, what is her story?” I ask

Nikki looks back at me. “Story?”

I think back to the night at the DQ when that prick, Chad, was taunting her by Asher’s Jeep. “Yeah. I mean she is so nice and it just seems she has a back story with the way she says and does things, sometimes.”

Nikki turns in her seat and talks as Asher drives at a slow even pace. “Lia used to be on the dance team.... with me.”

Nikki was on the dance team?

“I know, hard to believe,” says Nikki, apparently reacting to the shocked look on my face.

“Lia was good and she made the team her freshman year, last year. When she was evaluated it was pretty much a no brainer; she had the moves and the looks. She didn’t always wear baggy long sleeved shirts like she does now. Every freshman is given a big sister on the squad to help her along with the routines and the ins and outs on what is expected of her and her responsibilities with being part of the team. I wish I had been her big sister. It turned out to be my good friend, Celine.”

Oh shit.
“No way.”

I can’t believe Celine was on the dance team or her good friend. “That was only a year ago?”

“Yeah, well shit hit the fan like I told you,” Nikki says.

“You told her?” Asher asks.

“I told you I had,” Nikki says, looking at him, then continues. “Anyway, long story short, Celine set up Lia with Chad Schuster, Spencer’s football buddy, so they could double. Chad is a senior. That means he was a junior and she was a freshman at the time.”

I immediately think about an impressionable Lia and a testosterone-driven Chad taking advantage of a situation.

Nikki watches me and confirms my line of thinking, “Yeah, he took advantage of her.”

I grit my teeth. “He raped her?”

“No, he didn’t get that far. Brody and I stopped it before it happened,” Asher chimes in. I’m glad he doesn’t give more details and lets the description die. I don’t want to picture the images of small, delicate Lia struggling while a bastard like Chad is attacking her.

“But Chad did ruin her reputation and Celine did nothing to help the situation,” adds Nikki.

“What did she do?”

Nikki shakes her head and looks down at the center console between her and Asher, “She helped spread the rumor. Said that she couldn’t believe her little sister was such a skank.”

What a bitch!

Asher speaks. “Nikki took Lia under her wing, seeing what Celine was doing to her. Instantly Nikki was looked on as a trouble maker, not a team player.”

“I quit. I wasn’t about to continue being a part of a team so sinister,” Nikki says.

“When he was talking with Lia the other night at the DQ...”

Nikki nods. “Yes, it was tough for Lia to confront him again, so I was glad when you nudged me and told me what was up.”

I think about Lia and how she was scratching her wrist so anxiously... like something was irritating her skin. “Why does she wear the long sleeves?”

Nikki doesn’t respond, she continues to look straight ahead out the windshield. I know she hears me. I scoot to the middle seat and lean forward, thinking of reasons why Lia would find comfort in wearing long sleeve clothing in the middle of a heatwave. I can only think that it’s because of what happened to her with Chad, a defense mechanism. “Is it some kind of security thing for her? Comfort?”

Nikki doesn’t respond, but Asher does, “That is what she has told us.” He doesn’t sound like he believes her.

“Do you think she is telling the truth?”

“What? I mean yeah. If she says that is what it means for her, then we accept it,” Asher says, glancing at me then back to the road ahead.

Nikki adds, “She went through a lot last year, Evan. When she started hanging with us, with Gavin and Brody... They are damaged goods which means we are damaged goods and she is too. Needless to say, this year is no better for her or any of us; just more of the same.”

She turns back to face me again, her normal playful look is gone. “Guilt by association sucks but it is the only truth a high school society needs to determine reputations.”

She looks down at her and Asher’s hands. “And your reputation is being determined too. Look, I understand if you don’t want to risk being targeted by hanging with us.”

“What?” I am livid she would even insinuate I would leave them high and dry just because of what other nimrods think. She doesn’t know me though. She doesn’t know my back story because I haven’t told her... and I’m not going to. “Look, I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks, especially Celine and Spencer.”

Nikki snickers, “Yeah I get that, Ev, but do you really understand the ramifications?” Her eyebrows rise up, questioningly. “Just saying... I get it if you bail.”

“I’m not bailing,” I say, sitting back in my seat. I cross my arms over my chest and keep my eyes on Nikki as she sizes me up.

After a few seconds she nods her head and says, “Okay,” then smiles her usual crooked, mischievous, Nikki smile.

I TWIST MY CAMERA LENS, sending the tiny ballerina atop the music box Grandma gave me, in and out of focus, when our doorbell rings. I look over at my clock; it’s ten thirty.

Dad came in at eight to ask me to go have breakfast with them at the IHOP. I told him I was too tired. Mom came in at nine, reiterating how they would really love if I could come to breakfast with them. She went on to say, “Next year you will be in college and we won’t have these moments.” Combining the guilt trip and jab at needing to think about what I’m going to do next year after graduation was a double whammy I didn’t feel like screwing with this morning. “Tired, need more sleep,” I mumbled half into to my pillow. I heard them leave around nine thirty.

So, whoever is at the door can just go away.  The second time the doorbell rings it’s in a chain of dings and dongs that announce pretty clearly whoever’s at my door isn’t going to go away.

“Damn it!” I throw my comforter off me, angrily, and stumble to the stairs. As I take the steps quickly, the doorbell is still making the same annoying noise. I unlock the door and swing it open. “What the hell...”

My words are lost when I see who is standing in front of me - Brody Ferguson.

“Hey,” he says, smiling, then looks me up and down slowly. I do the same; he is dressed in long swim trunks, a t-shirt and flip flops with a towel tossed over his shoulder.

I do a quick inventory of myself and hope to God that I didn’t decide to sleep in a t-shirt and panties last night.
T-shirt, boxer shorts; whew!
Granted they are short, but it could have been so much more embarrassing. I partially hide my body behind the door.

“Sorry about that...” I say, referring to the way I answered. “What’s up?”

“Did I wake you?” he asks with apology lingering in his voice.

Yes, but...
“No, not at all,” I say, clearing my voice.

Lies Evan,
a voice in my head tells me.
Tell him you’re sick and go back to bed.
I ignore the voice and say, “Just laying around.”

Distracting myself from the itch to shut the door, run back up to my room, and curl up under my covers, I point to the towel over his shoulder. “What’s with the towel?”

My eyes go straight to his perfect lips and the unshaven stubble as he speaks. “It’s going to cool off soon. Might be our last chance to head to the pool.”

He jabs his thumb behind him. “Lia and Gav were wondering if you wanted to come and go with us.”

Still mesmerized by his mouth, I utter, “Oh.”

He shifts on his feet uncomfortably, then adjusts the towel on his shoulder as he mumbles, “I was wondering too. So, do you wanna come with us?”

I manage a shaky, “Uh, huh.”

My idiotic stammering is pitiful but I find a little joy in making Brody smile his crooked, flirtatious smile.

I clear my throat and find myself smiling too, “Let me go get dressed and grab my towel.”

His smile widens as he backs away from the door. “We’ll wait next door for you,” he says as he turns and jogs down my driveway over to his house.

I close the door softly and my smile widens as the butterflies in my stomach stir. I run up the stairs, stumbling over the last one at the top, and head into the bathroom. I think of the most important thing; underarm hair and hair in... uh... other areas while wearing a bikini.

I don’t have enough time to take a shower so I turn the faucet on in the bath, strip down, and splash water under my arms and around my bikini line. The water is cold, but there’s no time to wait until it warms up.

After a quick shave, I dry off, toss my towel onto the sink counter and do a quick brush and gargle.

I make a mad dash back into my room, pull open the bottom drawer of my dresser and dig to the bottom. It’s been a while since... Oh no, what if it doesn’t fit? Now that I have been on the meds a while, I have noticed some weight gain, but not much. I pull out the black bikini bottoms first and step into them and shimmy them up around my butt. They feel a little snug as I root through the other corner of the drawer looking for the matching top.
Got it!

I tie the teal triangular bikini top on then step in front of my bathroom mirror hoping the snug feeling around my butt and boobs doesn’t look terrible.

Thank the Lord it doesn’t!
I turn to the side. The added curves look kind of good, actually. I slip on the cover up I yanked from my drawer and wiggle my toes into my flip flops.

I grab my keys, lock the front door, and text my mom as I walk down our drive to Brody’s and Gavin’s.

Evan:
Headed to the pool with Lia, Gavin, and Brody. Be home later.

She instantly texts me back.

Mom:
Be careful. Text me when you leave the pool.

Evan:
Kk

I’m a little irked she doesn’t say to have fun. First thing she worries about is being careful. I consider what she said the other night about “not hanging around anyone that could get me in trouble.”

I shake off her words and place my phone into the canvas beach bag I have tucked my towel into. I’m not going to let her get under my skin. As the Fergusons’ house comes into view, I see Brody sitting in the driver’s side of a really, really nice car fiddling with the radio over the rumbling engine. I mean it is an older type model, whatever, I know nothing about cars, but still, it looks and sounds sporty.

“I didn’t know you had a car,” I say, drawing his attention from the radio and to me. He looks over at me, giving me a once-over that makes me a little self-conscious. I look away toward Lia and Gavin leaning against the back of the car, side by side.

Brody rises from the driver’s side, “This isn’t just a car, sweetheart.”

Oh God, did he really just call me sweetheart?

Don’t smile Evan. Don’t smile Evan.

Brody continues, “This is a 1969 Acapulco Blue Mach 1.”

He says it like I should be impressed or know what a Mach whatever is. The only thing that impresses me is the confidence in his voice and the fact he called me sweetheart.

Don’t do it Evan. Don’t smile like a silly little love-struck puppy.
The little voice in my head continues to warn. I cave and the dreaded smile spreads across my face.

Brody takes pride in making me grin, I guess, as his own smile widens. Gavin and Lia come around the car. Brody bows his head and shakes it before folding his arms over his chest. “Don’t know much about cars, huh?”

I shake my head. “No, but it looks awesome.”

He bends his body, like he is greeting me in some Prince Charming kind of way. “Thank you and it is awesome. Just finished building her.”

He pats the roof of the car as he releases the driver’s seat to allow backseat riders in.

Gavin smiles at me and says, “Hi,” short and clipped in Gavin’s way.

Lia smiles lightly and does a small wave at me before she climbs into the backseat following Gavin. For a moment I think about what Asher and Nikki told me last night after seeing her fidget and scratch at some mystery itch on her wrists.

I push it from my mind and walk around the back of the car, noticing the metallic blue shimmer, I mean “Acapulco Blue” color.

“You built this?” I ask, sounding both curious and impressed.

I pull open the passenger’s door and sit on the black leather, deep seat. Brody continues on with words and phrases only a person apt in cars could appreciate. “Yep, refinished the bucket seats. They were a mess. Pulled the carpeting and reinstalled it.”

I breathed in and smelled the newness of the materials in the car. “Smells new.”

He chuckles as he revs the engine. “Should. Four years later, it pretty much is.”

I’m shocked. “You have been working on this car for four years?”

He nods. “Yeah. Well, this will be the fourth year, so a little less. My dad... he got me the job when I was a freshman. The owner of the shop, Leo, was an old buddy of his.”

Brody looks down at the hood of the car. I can tell with the fallen smile he is thinking about his dad. “Dad being friends with Leo was the only way I could get a job at fourteen years old. I have taken a little from each paycheck since starting there. When we got word about Dad, I took less of a cut to help out at home.”

I am eager to change the subject... to take his mind off his dad and the sadness it brings him, but he pulls himself back from the memory. “Leo owns a junk yard on the side, which helped with getting some of the parts cheap when I couldn’t spend as much. Just had to wait for them to turn up.”

This guy keeps surprising me and impressing me more and more every day. I shake my head and release a “Wow”, not so much for the car, but more for the guy behind the wheel.

I close my door just as he starts to back out of the drive. I look down at the knobs and buttons that control the vintage radio.

“Just installed this vintage 1967 radio, on Ebay for three hundred dollars, as the finishing touch.”

He presses one of the preset buttons and Vampire Weekend “Cape Cod Kwazza Kwazza” begins playing following the voice of the radio DJ.

Gavin, whom I never took as a singer, begins to belt out the tune, singing along with lead singer Ezra Koenig.

Lia, Brody, and I look at each other somewhat shocked then smile as Brody encourages him, “Rock out, Gav!”

Gavin howls with excitement in between the chorus as Brody stops the car in the middle of our street before putting it into gear.

The rev of the engine almost drowns out the music, but not completely and the wind whips through my hair.

It’s been a good twenty minutes and we are still driving.

“Where is the pool? I mean, isn’t it near the neighborhood?” I ask over the combination of wind, music, and engine.

Brody looks over at me. “Halfway there.”

Lia leans against the back of my seat. “It isn’t a community pool. You know that right?”

“No.”

“We are going to Hamilton Pool.”

I length out my, “Oookaaay,” waiting for further explanation.

Brody pulls over into a 7-Eleven parking lot. “Hamilton Pool is a spring-fed pool a little ways out in the hill country.” He kills the engine. “I’m running in to get some snacks and drinks. Lia?”

“Big Red and Ranch Corn Nuts,” she replies.

“Gav?” Brody asks over his shoulder.

“Dr. Pepper and a bag of Funyuns,” Gav answers.

Brody points to me. “Want anything?”

“I didn’t bring any money?” I say apologetically.

Brody shakes his head. “I’ve got it. What do you want?”

“Um, Dr. Pepper,” I say as I glance back at Gavin. He is smiling at me widely.

“You look like a Dr. Pepper and Chex Mix kind of girl. Am I right, California?” Brody chides with a small grin on his face.

I hear Lia question under her breath, “California?” and laugh lightly.

I ignore the humor she has found in Brody and my inside joke and respond aiming my words to Brody. “You are right, Texas.”

His grin widens as he gets out of the car.

“California? Some kind of nickname?” Lia asks.

“Sort of.” I watch him as he opens the door to the convenience store, letting a woman holding an infant pass; such the gentleman.

Another thirty minutes of driving through what Gavin describes from the backseat as the Texas hill country, and we pull off Hamilton Pool Rd onto a narrow side road. I swear Gavin is like a walking encyclopedia. As I help Brody grab the plastic bags of snacks and drinks, Lia takes the towels and my bag from the trunk, and Gavin starts talking about the pool we are going to. “Hamilton Pool Preserve is a natural spring fed pool. It is approximately one quarter of a mile through the trail ahead. We will decrease our elevation and climb deeper into the canyon as we make our way to the pool.”

As we walk along, Brody looks back at me. I guess he is wondering how I will react to Gavin’s monologue. I think it is kind of cool how well versed he is in things.

“How deep is it?” I ask looking down. Flip flops mightn’t have been the best choice of footwear, but oh well.