Identical (21 page)

Oh, yech. Maybe Brittany

as transportation won’t work

out so well after all. But

one day won’t hurt, right?

Anyway, the bus already

went by. My choices are

limited. “No problem.”

Of the hour, the radio blares.

Hip-hop, no less. Definitely

not my cup of tea, but hey,

it’s not my freaking radio.

Joel seems to like it. He jerks

his head back and forth till

he looks like a bobblehead

with a really loose spring.

Beside me, Shaun stretches

his legs till his right knee rests

against my left, totally creeping

me out.
Awesome song, huh?

I jerk my knee away from his.

“Uh, sure.” If you like songs

without music. More like ebonic

poetry. Before I finish the thought,

Shaun’s leg has found its way

back to mine. “Need more room?”

Warmer like this, don’t you

think?
Here comes his arm.

I turn and give him my most

evil glare. “What are you doing?”

Nothing.
His arm withdraws, but

only a little.
Thought you’d like it.

Irritation flares, red in my face.

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

He shrugs.
Heard Ian talking.

He said you’re into other guys.

Irritation fans into anger. “Is

that so? Well, you can just tell

your brother for me that I am

most certainly not into other—”

A sudden
thwunk-thwunk-thwunk

interrupts the conversation.

The Toyota yanks itself hard to

the right and Brittany fights

to stay in control.
Oh, man!

I think we’ve got a flat tire.

The entire sidewall is gone, what’s

left of the tread part, shredded.

We’re not going anywhere, not on

this tire. “Do you have a spare?”

I dunno, but even if I do, I have

no idea how to change it. Do

you guys?
She looks at the boys,

who shake their heads in unison.

We’re already late for school.

Not much we can do but be

later. “Okay, then. Do you have

like AAA or something?”

I dunno. Oh, wait. My mom

showed me a number to call.

It goes with our cell service.

She leans into the car.

As she roots through the glove

box, I notice cars slowing a bit

as they drive by. Something

about four late-for-school kids,

looking helpless as hell

beside a useless car, barely

pulled onto the shoulder?

Could be it, I guess.

Then again, you might

think one of them would

stop and offer to help.

But no, they cruise on by.

Here it is!
says Brittany,

punching at her cell phone.

Hi. Um. I guess I need help…

er…roadside assistance?

If she giggles one more

time, I’m going to push

her out into oncoming

traffic. We stand, stupid

as hell, waiting for a tow

truck. My teeth chatter,

and Shaun dares to move

closer. Really, really close.

Once again, his arm tries

to slide around my shoulder,

and I shrink from the touch

of his calloused skin. “No.”

What is your fucking problem?

I’m just trying to keep you

warm. Oh, that’s right.

You prefer being frigid.

It’s going to bug me all day.

I always thought Ian was on

my side, that he understood,

if not everything, that I am only

lukewarm because I’m damaged.

Frigid? Maybe I am. But why

should it even be a topic

of conversation with Shaun?

Did Ian call me that? And did

he really say I’m into other guys?

Who did he say it to? And why?

Wait…a sudden “aha” strikes.

Madison. Would she have told

him such a thing, sunk so low?

And why would he believe her?

A stronger person would go

straight to the source, confront

him, ask if any of the things

his little brother had to say

could possibly be true.

But I could never do that.

What if I just couldn’t stand

to hear what he had to say?

What if he walked away?

What if I lost him completely?

And I still don’t have any

answers, despite a good forty

minutes, standing here with

nothing else to do but

think.

Shaun finally gave up on me

and moved on to Brittany,

who’s obviously into Joel.

Shaun is a total clod.

How

can he be Ian’s brother?

They’re about the same as

straight sex and gay sex—

some similarities, but

different

in ways that really count.

One thing I do know is that

if Ian deserts me, I’ll never

repair the giant rip in my

life.

I don’t dare let him go.

But how do I keep him

without losing me?

Who knew love

could be

such an enigma?

Not particularly worried about the tardy.

Neither Daddy nor Mom (on those rare

occasions she’s around to peruse progress

reports) pays particular notice to stuff

sent home from school. Besides, it was

Kaeleigh’s first tardy. Ever. No big deal.

Not, that is, until she played Daddy’s

message, left both on her cell phone

and on the answering machine at home.

I heard you missed school today in favor

of taking a little joyride with a few friends.

I’m surprised at you. Surprised, and

disappointed. I’d better see you at home

when I get there. You have some explaining to do.

And then you have to decide what your

punishment will be. Make no mistake.

You will be punished. When I ask what

you think is fair, I hope you have an answer.

By the time he was finished, she was shaking.

I tried to tell her not to worry, that he’d cool

off before he got here. But she went to work

scared. And she came home from work scared.

Daddy still hasn’t arrived yet, so she goes

straight to the kitchen in search of consolation.

Is gross. Disgusting. I watch her

and I want to puke. (And often do.)

But this one is unlike the others

I’ve had the misfortune of seeing.

She doesn’t care what goes into

her mouth, as long as it resembles food.

“Stop,” I beg. “Stuffing yourself can’t save

you from whatever it is you imagine

he’s going to do. Please, Kaeleigh.”

But she keeps on shoving stuff into

her mouth.
Can’t eat dinner tonight.

He won’t let me, and you know it.

Maybe she’s right. But I can’t watch

this self-destruction a minute longer.

She does have something to worry

about. So I’ll just have to help

her out. I slip into Daddy’s bathroom,

and this time when I “borrow” his Oxy,

it’s not for me. Okay, one is for me.

The other three are for Daddy.

I can’t slip all three into a single drink

or he’d taste it for sure. This will be

a seduction. One I know he can’t refuse.

He finally roars in, and I’ve already

mixed him a highball, long on Turkey,

short on Oxy. That will change

as the evening progresses. He gives

me a look but takes the drink

anyway.
Thanks. I need this.

Thank God he gulps it down

before turning on Kaeleigh.
Well?

I rush to refill his empty glass,

not 100 percent sure why

I’m trying to save Kaeleigh,

who refuses to save herself.

I hand Daddy the Oxy-tainted

highball glass as Kaeleigh answers,

I didn’t mean to be late, Daddy.

She doesn’t dare look him in the eye.

It’s just that Brittany’s car got a flat,

and we had to wait for the tow….