One True Thing (22 page)

“And a hotel room too,” Gramps says. “It’s not the Ritz, but it looks safe enough.”

“And you can take anyone you want,” Mom says.

“Ooh! I volunteer,” Courtney says.

“Deal!” I read the email for the third time. “How did you know?”

“It’s all you ever talk about at home. And after seeing you in the recital, I knew I had to help you try.”

“Just remember to thank us when you’re rich and famous,” Gramps says.

“I will!” I give him a hug. “Thank you!”

“And I’ll take that soda you were about to offer me,” Gramps says, glancing toward the kitchen.

“Right,” I say. “I was just going to get one. Mom?”

“No thanks baby.”

I walk into the kitchen, my head spinning with possibilities. It’s just less than a month away. How can I possibly get ready in a month? I’m going to have to book extra practice time at the studio…work up a new audition routine. I should go online and look at some of the past auditions to see what’s worked and what hasn’t. I pull a soda out of the fridge and twist the top off and look through our glasses for one that’s big enough and clean enough.

“Here you go,” I say, walking back into the living room. Mom is talking to Courtney about something by the door and Gramps is sitting on the couch. I’m setting the bottle on the coffee table when I notice what he’s got in his hands. The Garvin Gazette. Shit.

“Here you go Gramps,” I say. “Let me just take that.” I reach for the paper but he yanks it away.

“What does this mean?” he asks, shaking it at me.

“Looks like Ty might get recruited by the majors,” I say. I glance at Courtney, but she’s staring at me, eyes wide with horror.

“Do I look like a dumbass? Not that. This!” He flicks the page with his finger. “It says here that your boyfriend is colored. Is that true?”

I have no idea what to say here. “I guess it is.”

“You
guess
?!? That blond-headed boy’s been passin’ as white this whole time and all you can say is ‘you guess’?”

Mom walks over to us. “Is this part of the breakup?”

“I should hope so!” Gramps yells, his face red and the veins standing out on his neck.

I shake my head. “I…I met his mom. And yeah, she’s African American, but that’s not the point. When I found out he’d lied…it was over. It had to be.”

Gramps smacks the paper back on the table. “We let that boy into our home! Set him down at our table for supper.” He stands up and paces a few steps. “I’ll bet he didn’t even use that money to fix the bike.” He points at me. “That’s how these people operate. Give you some sob story so that you’ll open your wallet and then keep taking your money until you’re bone dry.”

I stare at Gramps. Even with everything that’s happened Ty doesn’t deserve that. “That’s not true. He got in an argument with some guys at the bar. Guys that were fighting with his friend over Nina being there. And when we came outside they’d trashed his bike. He used the money to get it fixed.”

“That’s what you think,” Gramps says. “These people always stick together. Did you see the invoice? We’re never going to see a nickel of that money again.”

“Dad,” Mom says. “This isn’t our issue. It’s for Jen and Ty to work out on their own.”

“Ain’t nothing to work out,” he says, taking a swig from the bottle. “Ya’ll are finished. I don’t want to hear one word about that no account boy come out of your mouth as long as I live. Am I clear?”

“What’s say we get our things and go out to a nice dinner?” Mom says, picking the ribbon up off the floor. “We don’t want to spoil Jenna’s birthday.”

“Can’t say as I’m hungry now,” Gramps says, slamming the bottle down on the table. “But you’re right. Let’s get going.”

Courtney isn’t saying a word, just gets her bag and follows us out of the apartment.

And, of course, who do we bump into walking up the stairs with an empty box? I haven’t seen Ty since I ran out of his apartment that day, and my body responds to the sight of him like I never left. My heart is racing as I take in his longer hair, with the curls starting to sprout at the top and the blond scruff that’s lining his jaw. If anything, he looks better than ever.

“Oh!” Ty’s as surprised as I am. “I…I just came back to get a few things.” He looks down at the dirty carpet. “I’m not staying here anymore.”

“That’s fine,” I say, slipping past him, still close enough to smell his spicy scent “Let’s go,” I say to everyone else.

Gramps is having none of it. He walks up to Ty and pokes him in the chest with a meaty finger, the lodge ring on his finger looking deadly. “Listen boy…I’m onto you. I know what you’ve been trying to pull and I’m not standing for none of this bullshit. You might have been able to fool my granddaughter, but you can’t fool me. I knew there was something fishy about you the minute I laid eyes on you and it pains me to be proven right. I want every penny of that money returned—no excuses, you hear?”

I can see Ty’s jaw working as he stands there and takes it from Gramps. I’ve already seen him take a guy down with one punch, and although his fingers are white where he’s gripping the box, he makes no move toward Gramps. “Yes sir. Of course I’m going to get—”

“Don’t you ‘sir’ me!” Gramps steps back with a look on his face like he stepped in shit. “If I ever catch you near my granddaughter again I’ll have your hide. And I mean that in the literal sense. Lynching ain’t been gone from Texas for very long, and don’t you forget that.”

“Dad!” Mom says from behind him. “That’s enough.”

I race down the steps before anyone can say anything else. I can’t hear another word. I don’t want to admit that Ty was right. That Gramps would only let him in over his dead body if he knew the truth.

Courtney catches up to me out in the parking lot. I don’t even remember coming through the glass door, don’t even realize I’m outside. She puts one arm around me without a word and I lean into her shoulder, tears already forming in my eyes. Behind her I see Ty’s gorgeous red Triumph that I’ll never ride on again.

“Happy Birthday to me.”

Chapter
Twenty-One (Ty)

The dude walks around the bike twice, bending down to look at the starter, one hand on the tank like he already owns it. I hate him right this second, even as much as I know I need him.

“I don’t know,” he says straightening up and putting on hand on his chin. “There are some scratches on the pipes here and I heard a clicking noise when it turned over.”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” I say. “The engine’s cherry. $10k and you can drive her away right now.”

He looks at the bike and then at me, patting the passenger seat. Jenna’s seat. It takes everything I have in me not to smack his hand off the spot.

“Eight thousand and it’s a deal,” he says.

I shake my head in disgust. “Eight? I’ve got way more in it than that. Nine-five is my final offer.”

“No way.” He brushes some imaginary dust off the speedometer. I can see the hunger in his eyes when he looks at her and I know he’s in. “I could maybe come up to nine. But not a cent more.”

I sigh and stick out my hand. This is it. The second-best thing in my life is about to slip through my hands again. “Nine-two cash, and it’s a deal.”

“You’re killing me,” he says, but shakes my hand.

A few minutes of paperwork and I see the taillight of the Triumph as he drives it away from the curb. I desperately want to run after it, to tell the guy that I changed my mind, but I don’t. I just stand there watching until he turns a corner and disappears.

“Fuck,” I say, walking back into the house and throwing the wad of bills on the table.

Rowan looks over from the couch where he and Stewart have been watching TV all afternoon. “You sold it! That’s good, right?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know.” I flop down into the armchair. “Seems like I don’t know fuck-all these days.”

Stewart peers around Rowan. “You didn’t have to sell it you know. Jenna’s gramps would have gotten over it. Not like he needs the money.”

“Yeah I did,” I say, trying to get the image of the back of the bike out of my head. “You didn’t hear him the other day. I can’t let him think I’m really like that.” I can’t let Jenna think I’m really like that.

“Noble of you,” Rowan says, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in Stewart’s lap.

I look up at the clock. Might as well get this over with while I have time. “I’m going out. See you at the game.”

The guys wave and settle back on the couch. Rowan’s been great to let me crash there but it’s hard hanging with a couple who’s so happy right now. Right now. Jenna and I were that happy not too long ago, which is why I had to get out of our building. I can’t stand having her so close to me, yet not being able to say a word.

It takes me almost half an hour to walk to the student union. Now that the bike’s gone, I’d better get used to it. I guess I have enough to buy some crap-ass Honda, but after the Triumph, nothing’s going to be the same. I open the door and try not to think about what it was like the last time I was in here with her. I didn’t even take the green shirt that Jenna picked out with me to Rowan’s because it hurts just to look at it. I don’t know what I was expecting—not like I could have kept Mom from her forever. I guess I just hoped it would be long enough that it wouldn’t matter. Except I’m not sure how long that would have to be.

I walk quickly past the clothes and the books and stop in the stationary section. There are rows and rows of blank books and journals and I look at them all, until I see the perfect one for Jenna. It’s black and has a graphic of a ballet shoe on it. I pick it up to make sure that it’s lined so that she can write in it.

“May I help you?” a woman in a Garvin polo shirt asks me from two feet away.

“No, thanks,” I say, holding up the book. “I’ve got what I need.”

“How about I take that up to the register for you?” she holds out her hand for the book.

“No,” I say. “I’ve got it.”

The woman glances behind me at my backpack. “We have a no large bags policy here. You’re going to have to check your backpack.”

I look at her, my suspicions up. “I’ve had it in this store before.”

She gives me a dead-looking smile. “It’s a new policy, sir.”

“Well, I’m done,” I say. “I’m just getting this book.”

“Excellent,” she says, following me up to the register. On the counter beside her, I see a copy of the Garvin Gazette with my stupid face right there on the front cover. The woman glances down at the paper and then up again at me as if confirming what she already knows. No wonder she’s been stalking me all around the store. Can’t have a black guy in here unsupervised. Next thing you know, he’ll have the entire place in his backpack.

“That’ll be $9.95,” she says, not making eye contact.

“Actually,” I say. “I think I’d like this gift-wrapped.”

Whatever was left of her smile disappears into a thin line. Olivia worked at Macy’s one summer and told me how much they hated to gift wrap things. “That’ll be extra.”

“That’s fine,” I say. “Something with a birthday theme. And a big white bow.”

I lean against the counter watching the people in the store while she wraps the book and drops it on the counter in front of me a little harder than necessary.

“Here you go. That’s $12.95.”

I peel off one of the hundreds from the roll that the guy gave me for the bike and hand it over with a smile. Without a word, she runs her special pen over it and then deposits it in the register, counting out the change into my upturned hand.

“Have a nice day,” I say as sweetly as possible as I shove the change into my pocket. The bitch doesn’t say anything else, just turns to the guy in line behind me. The white guy with a backpack even bigger than mine slung over his shoulder. Whatever. Not the first time I’ve been accused of shopping while black and I’m sure it won’t be the last.

Crossing the campus it feels like my face is following me from the front page of every newspaper kiosk. I can’t believe they ran that piece—can you sue a school paper? If I could, I’d take every issue and burn it. But it doesn’t matter now, the damage is done. And in a small, annoying way, it’s a relief.

Jenna’s car isn’t in the lot as I approach our building, just how I’d planned it. Now I just have to hope that Courtney is home. I walk past my door without even an urge to go inside and knock on hers. I relax a little when I hear footsteps approach and Courtney opens the door.

“Well hey,” she says, leaning against the jamb. “Jenna’s not here.”

“I know.” I hold the wrapped book and the sealed white envelope full of money out to her. “Can you make sure she gets these?”

“Sure,” she says. I turn to go, but she stops me. “Hey, Ty?”

“Yeah?”

Courtney looks out into the hall to make sure we’re alone. “You know it’s not over, right?”

I feel my heart race. But I’ve been here before. “What do you mean it’s not over?”

She looks up at me. “Jenna told me what you said. The very last thing you said that day. And I know you think that she doesn’t care, but she does. A lot. It’s just going to take her awhile to get her head around things, you know?”