Emily For Real (7 page)

When he finishes, everyone claps. Well, Cory doesn't clap, but he's sitting up now and looking at Leo. Mr. Canning is mega impressed. Leo's nailed an A for sure. I'm glad Leo had a chance to do the project he missed. Maybe teachers know all about Leo's mother and Caroline and his father, who's on the road so much and who doesn't live with them, anyway. And now that I think of all this, I can understand why it would be easy for Leo to write music to fit the river of
Romeo and Juliet
.

I dig into my jacket pocket and curl my fingers around Leo's anger rock. One thing I'm sure of right now is that somehow I have to get him talking to me again. I hate that he's mad at me.

At noon, Jenn is waiting at the lockers.

“Look,” I say. “I've got to do something right now so I can't go get lunch. Sorry.” Then, because of the look on her face, I add, “It's important.”

“Right.”

“Let's go tomorrow. If Ronny's still sick.” I know it's a mean jab to drop that last bit into the mix, but I'm not in the mood to gloss over reality right now.

“Sure,” she says. “Better get moving. There goes Leo.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I'll explain later. Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong.”

She smiles and I'm glad she doesn't seem completely bugged anymore.

When I catch up to Leo, he's already outside. I step right in front of him, which makes him stop. “I need to talk to you. I'm sorry about saying that stuff on Saturday. About how mad you get.”

“It's none of your business.”

“I know. That's why I'm sorry.” So far he's not walking away, and I take that as a good sign and keep on talking. “Sometimes I think of something and just blurt it out before I realize I should keep my mouth shut.”

“Exactly,” he says.

I realize this conversation needs a quick one-eighty turn. “Your
Romeo and Juliet
river was amazing. I didn't know you wrote music.”

“Neither did I,” he says.

“I really liked the fight scene with all the anger and confusion, and then how you stopped for, like, two or three seconds before you made the music sound scary.”

“It was supposed to mean the guy died.”

“That's what I meant.”

“I still say Shakespeare's twisted.”

“I don't think it'll hurt his feelings.”

Leo laughs. Okay, it was more like a snort, but there was definitely humor appreciation involved.

I take a chance and ask, “You going to see Caroline again?”

“Yeah. Saturday.”

“If you need someone to keep you from looking like a criminal when you're hitchhiking, I'd go.”

“Sure. Maybe.”

I don't bug him about the contradiction of saying those two words in the same breath. I'll assume it's a go.

***

This time I'm prepared. Wool scarf and mittens. Also a hat that pulls down over my ears. And very warm socks. I don't get all this talk about global warming when it's barely halfway through November and already it's iceberg city.

Leo's wearing a heavy winter jacket with a hood.

Ironically, a guy in an old car pulls over as we're walking up the ramp toward the highway, and we haven't even had a chance to get cold, “Let me guess. You two're about to hitchhike,” he says. “Hop in.”

Leo starts to get in the front when the guy says, “Girls in front.”

“That's okay,” I say. I'm a bit creeped.

“Rules are rules,” he says.

Leo says, “We'll pass.” Then he slams the door and mutters something I don't exactly hear but I can pretty much guess what it was.

The guy takes off with squealing tires and blue smoke.

“Creepy,” I say.

“Loser,” says Leo.

Eventually, another car stops and this time the guy looks like an ordinary person. No creep vibes. He's going to Yarmouth, so we've scored a drive all the way to exit six.

It takes three more drives before we get from exit six to North West Cove. The last drive is a guy who knows Leo's aunt and the guy she lives with. “They got a little girl stayin' with them, I hear.”

“Yeah,” says Leo. “My sister.”

“Oh. Mm.” Right away the guy reads Leo's mind and doesn't ask any questions. “Nice you'd be going to see her.”

“Yeah.”

It's comfortable in this car. I don't mean the seats or anything. I mean the atmosphere. This man's definitely very nice. Perceptive. Considerate. He drives us all the way to Jane's house where there's a transport truck parked in the driveway. Silver and blue and very shiny. It's only half a transport truck because the big box part isn't on it. Whoever owns this either just bought it or they clean it with a toothbrush after every trip.

“Shit,” says Leo, not quite under his breath.

I'm putting two and two together, adding things up to the fact that this truck belongs to Leo's father, because Leo said he was on the road so much. Genius.

“Ah, I don't think Jane's home right now,” says Leo. “Mind dropping us off down at the garage?”

When the car pulls away from the garage, we stand there for a second not saying anything. Then I decide there's nothing to lose by stating the obvious. “That was your father's truck at Jane's.”

Leo says nothing.

I make another loop around my neck with my scarf.

“Let's go in here for a minute,” he says.

Inside the garage it's only slightly warmer. There's a counter where they sell bars and chips and pop. The guy who's been putting cigarettes into a drawer stops and looks at us.

“You want anything?” says Leo.

“No, thanks.”

He buys a chocolate bar and we stand inside while he eats it. I can tell he's trying to figure out what to do.

“Maybe he's not actually at your aunt's. Maybe he just left his truck there,” I say, trying to be helpful.

The guy behind the counter says, “If you're looking for someone from around here, they're likely at the firemen's breakfast. Pretty well everyone goes. Finishes up about eleven or thereabout.”

Leo opens the door and leaves.

“Thanks,” I say to the guy behind the counter.

I'm starting to wish I wasn't here. I feel all weird again, like I'm nobody and I'm nowhere and no one knows me. Which in a way is true. I hate when I get this feeling. “So now what're we going to do?” I ask.

“Go back to Jane's.”

I don't like the stormy look in Leo's eyes. He's fuming mad about something…probably the fact that his father's around. I don't want to be there when the two of them meet face to face. But what else am I going to do?

Leo walks up the driveway, directly to the transport truck, and goes around the back, where he leans down and looks underneath. He reaches with one hand and hangs on to the back with his other hand. He's holding a key when he straightens up.

“What're you going to do with that?”

“Drive this truck.” Leo's obviously thinking up something that's not going to be a good scene. He reaches up, opens the cab door, climbs the two steps, and settles into the driver's seat.

For some idiotic and stupidly dramatic reason, I run around the other side and climb up into the truck too.

“Get out of the truck, Emily,” he says quietly.

“No.”

“Don't be an idiot.”

“Why'm I an idiot? I'm just sitting here in the truck with you while we wait for everyone to come back from that breakfast.” My heart's beating extremely fast. I know for certain that the only thing standing between Leo and trouble right now is me.

He sits there, looking out through the windshield.

This truck's so huge I feel like I'm in an airplane, waiting for takeoff.

Leo starts the truck. It sounds like a dozen garbage cans rattling under the hood. For sure no one's home, because by now they'd be running outside to catch whoever's stealing this truck. Can Leo even drive this thing? Don't people need special training and—

“If you're not getting out then put on your seatbelt.”

He revs the engine and checks the gages on the dash. Then he pushes on a gear shift and the truck starts moving forward.

“Do you know how to drive this thing?” I snap on the seatbelt.

“It's automatic. Anyone can drive one of these. It's not rocket science.”

“But this is humongous! Look at all these buttons and stuff. It's not an ordinary truck!” I'm getting a bit hysterical.

Leo stops the truck. “If you want to, you can get out.”

“Where are you going? What if your father sees us in his truck?”

“Last chance if you wanna get out.”

“I'm not getting out.” I try to calm down my hysteria. Not that I know him very well, but I have a feeling Leo won't do anything entirely stupid with me here in this truck with him.

We rumble along the windy road past the garage, then down around a sharp curve at the end of the cove, and then up a very steep hill. Leo's driving slowly and smoothly, so I try to relax a bit. I can see way out over the cove from up here. All those wharves and boats and lopsided fishing shacks. Like a postcard.

I'm getting used to driving along in this truck, but I'm relieved when we're past the houses in the cove and away from any chances of Leo's father seeing his truck go by. “So where're we going?”

“Dunno.”

“Not on the main highway, okay?”

“I don't plan to go that far. I'm not an idiot.” He's watching the road and leaning his long arms on the steering wheel like he's driven this truck lots of times before.

We drive for about twenty minutes and come to a small picnic park beside a rocky beach. Leo pulls off the road and stops the truck.

“Now what?” I say.

He pulls on the emergency brake but he doesn't turn off the engine. “Let's hitchhike back home.”

“What? And just leave your father's truck here?”

“Yeah.”

“But—”

Leo's already getting out.

“Are you just leaving the truck running like this? With the keys in the ignition?” I jump down from the truck and follow him back to the side of the road.

“That's the plan.”

“Why?”

“Because it'll piss my father off when he eventually finds his precious truck. And if I'm lucky, it'll be out of fuel and that'll piss him off even more.”

“He'll know you did this.”

“Who cares?”

“What if someone comes along and sees the truck running and takes it?”

“Everyone on this road knows the truck's Dad's. They wouldn't touch it. Come on. Let's get going.”

What choice do I have?

Seven

It didn't take us long to get back to the city. I was tired and cold and extremely worried about how Leo abandoned his father's truck like that. It's going to mean big trouble. And not just for Leo, either.

Saturday night and all I want is to stay in my room alone. Mom and Dad are watching a movie, which in other circumstances I might watch with them, but no way could I concentrate on a movie tonight.

Leo's father's bound to find his truck and know who took it and the exact reason why. I picture his father being an older version of Leo. Maybe even bigger. When Leo says his father's an idiot, it might just be another way of saying the man has anger issues. The same ones Leo inherited.

And Caroline's so little and so sweet. I remember how Leo said, “Ping-Pong anyone?” when Jane told him that Caroline would live sometimes with her dad and sometimes with Jane. Now I have this ominous feeling that what Leo did today is somehow going to make things a lot worse for Caroline. Maybe his father will try to keep Leo from visiting her. Can he legally do that?

This is when I suddenly think of Aunt Em. I won't call her tonight because it's ten-thirty, and calling now would make this situation more into an emergency when I really want to tone everything down. But tomorrow I'll call and find out from her exactly what could happen to Leo police-wise and court-wise. And what could potentially happen to me.

I can't sleep.

Even after reading almost three chapters of this book, which I can't remember anything about, I'm not the least bit sleepy. Mom went to bed at least two hours ago and Dad went not long after that. I go to the washroom very quietly. There's no light showing under their bedroom door, which means they're probably asleep.

I look out my bedroom window and wonder whether Leo's father found his truck yet.

It's 1:20.

Even though I know it's not necessarily a good idea, considering what happened last week, I decide to go out again. It's cold, but not freezing cold. I wear my scarf and mittens anyway.

I close our front door and stand for a minute facing the street, almost thinking I should just turn around and go right back inside. It's crazy to go for a walk when everyone else is in bed sleeping. I know it's crazy. And it probably isn't safe. Why would I keep doing something that probably isn't safe?

For sure I'm not going the way I went last time. The more traffic, the more likely there's losers around, so I keep to quiet streets.

I should be afraid. But it's all how you look at it. If this was two o'clock in the afternoon, I'd be walking anywhere I wanted and who'd care? And people feel safe on their own streets. Just take that to the extreme and all neighborhoods must be safe because there's people in every neighborhood who aren't afraid to be there because that's where they live. So that means I don't have to be afraid, no matter what street I'm walking on.

It's a darkness-and-shadows night. Quiet. I actually like this. Being away from everybody and just walking by myself. I don't even have to think about anything if I don't want to. I'm here. I'm me. That's it.

When I decide to go back home, I'm just walking at my normal pace. I'm not afraid because what's there to be afraid of, anyway.

***

Leo's ahead of me. I'm hurrying a bit so I can tell him what I need to tell him.

Some guys are razzing a girl who's a few steps in front of Leo. “Don't turn around. Don't turn around,” one of them is saying to her. “Don't say hi. Don't say hi.”

She doesn't turn around and she doesn't say hi. As she opens the door, Leo grabs it and holds it for her. I slow down, partly out of amazement because I just saw the look on Leo's face.

He doesn't notice me, even when we're inside.

“Hey,” says Leo, “that was cool. I said that was cool. Out there. How you just kept—Hey, what's the hurry?”

The girl stops and turns around. “Huh? What?”

“I said it was cool what you did out there. You just ignored those guys. Like they didn't exist.”

“One of them's my cousin,” she says. “Just showing off.”

I've stopped a few steps behind Leo. Like I'm spying, but I'm not. I just need to tell him what I need to tell him. The main hall's crowded with people coming in through the front doors and heading in all directions.

“What's your instrument?” I hear Leo ask.

The girl's carrying a narrow black case. She looks down at it. “Flute.”

“Cool.”

“Look,” she says in a kind of distracted way, “I gotta get to class.” It's obvious she's not sure why this guy she doesn't know is talking to her.

As she walks away, Leo says, “Hey! I'm Leo. Hey, what's your name?”

She doesn't turn around but he keeps watching her walk away, carrying the flute and her overstuffed backpack covered in buttons of all colors and sizes. Her long brown hair hangs down past her shoulders. She's wearing jeans, very tight jeans which—and I'm not being critical—are tight because she has quite a bit of extra weight. I didn't get a good look at her face because of Leo being in the way and because she left so fast.

I'm pretty sure I just witnessed Leo falling in love. Amazing! Before he has a chance to know that I've been standing here the whole time, I turn around and disappear.

I make a plan to corner him at break so we can have a conversation about his father's truck. And this time he can't say it's none of my business. It definitely is my business because I was there too.

Last night I called Aunt Em to ask her about what's likely to happen after the truck is found and his father figures out who took it. I told the whole thing straight, just as if I was one of her clients. Every detail. Her profession kicked in and her voice sounded like a lawyer and not like an aunt. She asked me questions and listened very carefully to everything I said. I was glad I couldn't see her face. It made it much easier. I know she wasn't shocked because she's had cases way worse than this. But I am her niece, so it must've been weird hearing me tell her all that stuff that she probably never thought I could be involved in.

“The good news,” she said, “is Leo's father might not report the truck missing.” But I told her there was fat chance for that because of how his father's supposed to be an idiot, which Aunt Em reminded me is hearsay. The part I need to explain to Leo is that once his father reports his truck stolen, and even if he says it was his son, the Mounties will charge Leo with theft. Aunt Em said that no one can change their mind and say, well, it's okay and we forgive him this time, or anything like that because it'll be in the hands of the Mounties. If by a long shot his father doesn't say his truck was stolen, Leo could get charged with joyriding, and even that's big trouble. He's over eighteen, which means adult court.

I was in that truck too. The worst-case scenario for me, even though Aunt Em said it's highly unlikely, is that I get charged with theft too. As long as Leo says I tried to stop him, which I sort of did, then I won't be charged. Aunt Em said I have to tell Mom and Dad
ASAP
, in case the Mounties knock on our door and inform them that I was involved in joyriding or even possibly theft. But I haven't told them yet.

This whole thing is making me crazy. Crazier.

I rush like mad out of math class, but I'm too late. There's Leo and he's talking to the flute player again. I can't believe how cool and collected he's acting right now when he's potentially in mega trouble up to his eyeballs. I'm a wreck.

Surprise, surprise. The girl is walking away. Again. He's soon going to have to take the hint. But I don't have time to think about Leo's love life right now.

“I have to talk to you.”

Leo turns around and stands there, looking down at me.

“Last night I called my Aunt Em who's a legal aid lawyer and asked her about what could happen because of your father's truck.”

“How much'd you tell her?”

“Everything.”

“What'd you do that for?”

“Because we're potentially in a pile of trouble!”

“No, we're not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dad wasn't around. He's hunting in Newfoundland. He left his truck at Jane's while he's away.”

“When did you find all this out?”

“Saturday. I called Jane to tell her where the truck was. So she drove Dan over to get it—I told her it might be out of fuel—and he drove it back to her place. End of story.”

“Thanks for keeping me informed.” I sound snarky and I don't care. “What if someone saw us and told your dad?”

“That's not gonna happen.”

“Right,” I say sarcastically.

“Unless your aunt spills the beans. Better tell her the problem's solved.”

“Yeah,” I say, and suddenly I feel almost relieved. I won't have to explain all this to Mom and Dad because there's really nothing to explain. “Won't Jane say anything about this to him?”

“She knows that'd be like lighting the fuse on a time bomb. But she says now I have to call her every morning before I head for school, and every night when I get back home. Like probation.” Then he says, “Mom's in rehab again.”

“Oh.” I can't tell if he thinks this will be a good thing for his mother or not. Probably there's a pattern here that Leo knows like the back of his hand.

I want to make it sound like my mind has switched lanes completely, so I brighten my voice up a bit and say, “How about coming to my place and hang out after school?”

“Maybe,” he says with this cautious look.

After school Leo says he wants to go over to his place and get his guitar, so I go with him. His bus stop's only two past mine. He lives in a building that has four apartments and his is number three. Second floor. When he opens the apartment door, I step inside and just wait while he goes to get his guitar down the hallway somewhere. I can see the living room couch, and I think of his mom passed out there with Caroline needing someone to help her get ready for school. The fact that Leo's living here alone is a bit depressing, even though maybe it's calmer without his mother passed out every day.

When we get to my place, Mom's face is full of question marks and I can't say I blame her. She puts the TV on mute and stands up.

“Mom, this is my friend, Leo Mac.”
Who's a truck thief and has anger issues and an idiot father and an alcoholic mother and this very sweet little sister
. “Leo, this is Mom.”

“Hi,” says Leo.

“Nice to meet you,” says Mom in a very motherly voice.

“We're gonna hang out in my room for a while.”

“Would you like something to eat?”

“You want something?” I ask Leo.

“Coffee, if it's okay.” He's very soft right now. And it's not phony. I half expect him to tell Mom that I'm not his type so she can relax about why he's here.

“I'll make coffee,” I say, and we head for the kitchen. I hear the TV when Mom turns off the mute.

Out of all the music I've got, Leo likes just this one CD so we play it a couple of times, and he quietly strums his guitar with most of the songs. I don't feel strange at all, being here in my room listening to Leo play guitar. It's peaceful.

“My grandmother died in a car accident.” I blurt this out almost before I know I'm thinking about it.

Leo stops strumming the guitar and just stares at me.

“I don't know what made me think about that.”

“When'd it happen?”

“A long time ago. Dad and Aunt Em were only five.”

I tell Leo about Granddad's affair with Cynthia Maxwell and how that probably ended up causing my grandmother's accident. Then I tell about his daughter who doesn't know she's his daughter. Leo listens. Really listens.

“That's twisted,” he says when I finish. “Sorry. But it is. Your family's just as screwed up as mine.”

That sort of hurts my feelings. I don't think Mom and Dad or Aunt Em are screwed up. It's basically just Granddad. But right now I don't want to argue about whose family is screwed up and whose isn't. It'll ruin everything.

We hear Dad's car in the driveway. “Dad's home,” I say.

“I gotta go,” says Leo, “or your mother'll invite me to supper with your screwed-up family.”

“Very funny.”

“It was okay hangin' with you,” he says when he's packing up his guitar.

“Yeah. You too.”

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I'd have this guy for a friend, hanging out here in my room, hitchhiking together in the freezing cold, telling each other stuff about mothers or grandmothers, I would've thought they'd lost it. For a second I consider why I haven't mentioned anything to Leo about Brian. But instantly I picture his reaction. He'd tell me how it was lame wasting time on someone who's already moved on. He'd probably be right.