Second Kiss (8 page)

Oh, no. Now she was worried that something really bad happened. She’d only be more upset when she found out that physically I was just fine (though I couldn’t say the same about myself mentally or emotionally). I sniffed hard and shook my head. “No, I’m okay. I just had a really bad day, that’s all.”

She folded her arms and bent her head toward me,“I’m waiting, impatiently, to hear your side of the story.”

I told her everything-starting with the moment I realized I didn’t have my schedule and ending with me spending the day next to the dumpster.

Her first response was, “Why didn’t you just go to the office?” But when I started to cry again, she backed off slightly. “You didn’t know that you could get a copy there?”

I buried my head in my hands and shook my head. She rubbed the back of my head then pulled me close to her with her hand. “That does sound like a rough day.” She even chuckled slightly as she let what I told her run through her brain.

Mom picked herself up off the grass. “Okay.” She took my hand and hoisted me to my feet. “I’m not mad at you, Gem. But I’m disappointed that you decided to sit outside all day long rather than let me or another adult know you had a problem. So to help you remember that in the future, you’re going to be weeding my garden every day after school for the rest of the week. Got it?”

“Ah! Weeding!” That was worse than sitting by the dumpster!

The next day my mom drove me to school again so she and I could explain to the principal what happened. I then went to all of my assigned classes, having to explain to each and every single teacher what had happened. The only thing worse that my first day of ninth grade was having to retell it eight times the next day. I barely saw Clarissa or Nina the whole day. Clarissa wasn’t in any of my classes, but I saw her from a distance, standing at her locker. And even though I had World History with Nina, she sat on the other side of the room with a couple other girls she’d met over the summer at dance camp. I went from class to class sitting in the back rows-since the closer desks had all been claimed by students the day before-silently scribbling on the blank paper in my binder, and occasionally taking notes when the teacher specifi cally told us we should write something down. I went through the lunch line alone and sat at the end of one of the long lunch tables until I was instructed by a group of boys that I was sitting in their seats. I took the rest of my lunch to the library and ate at one of the tables in the back until the librarian told me I couldn’t have food in the library. And worst of all, because my family was, yet again, in Cape Cod during regular registration, my locker was in the “late registration zone”-in the eighth grade hall! What was happening? I thought I was supposed to automatically be cool in ninth grade. I was part of the oldest grade in the school! I was a freshman! So why did I feel like a dorky seventh grader all over again? It occurred to me in my seventh-period geography class that I hadn’t spoken to anyone all day-besides the principal and my teachers, to explain my absence the day before. I sat in my chair in the back, only partly listening to Mr. Haggard reciting a poem about the continents, when I had another realization. Clarissa, Nina, and Jess were the only friends I had. If they weren’t around, I had no one else to talk to! Sure, I would have an occasional conversation here or there with a girl I had known since elementary. But the only real friends-the people who noticed when I was absent-were Clarissa, Nina, and Jess. And I doubt that the first two even noticed that I was gone yesterday. The strange thing was that I wasn’t even distraught in the least about Clarissa and Nina. Their friendship had only made my life harder. But what shocked me was that I was this old and I had so few friends. I wasn’t so unattractive that people couldn’t bear to look at me. I was fun to be around and had a good sense of humor, at least Jess thought so. So, why was it so impossible for me to make another friend?

That night before bed I pulled out an old notebook and began listing the people in school that I could potentially be friends with. By the time I came up with four names, I had already crossed each of them out for various reasons. Too weird. Bad breath. Squeaky voice. One too many body piercings. Maybe I was meant to go through my ninth grade year alone. I had just come to this conclusion when I heard the familiar sound of tiny rocks hitting my window.

I walked over to my window and lifted up the old wooden frame. I looked down, and fifteen feet below was Jess’s moppy brown hair bouncing around while he looked for more small pebbles to throw at my window.

I spoke in a normal voice, “Hey!”

Jess’s face suddenly appeared beneath his tousled hair as he stared up the side of the house toward my window. His pensive expression broke into a smile of relief.

“Hey,” he spoke in a lower voice, even though I had told him a million times that no one could hear us. “You’re awake.”

I cocked my head to the side. “As if a little thing like me sleeping would really stop you.”

Jess motioned for me to come down. I shook my head at him. “It’s too early. My dad hasn’t gone to bed yet. He’s downstairs watching TV.” I lowered my voice to the same volume as Jess’s. “Things are going sour a bit early tonight, aren’t they?”

The top of Jess’s head appeared again as he lowered his face and looked at the ground.

I sat watching him, not understanding the depth of what he lived with day in and day out, but knowing that he was in pain. And for some reason, he always picked my window to come to as an escape. “Stay there,” I said. “I’ll be right down.”

Jess’s head shot up again, and I saw the pleading in his eyes that what I said was true. It always threw me off a little to see such vulnerability from him when he stood underneath my window-a side of him that he hid from everyone, even me-during the daylight hours.

“But what about your dad?”

“I’ll just tell him that you need me.”

“There’s no way he’ll let you out.” Jess would never say it, but I knew we were both thinking that unlike his father, my dad cared that I came back alive.

I didn’t tell Jess that Dad would understand. I think Jess liked to believe that no one knew what his dad was like. But my mom and Jess’s mom were good friends. I was sure my parents knew as much-if not more-than I did about their situation.

I sat on the arm of our couch-still in my pajamas but with a hooded sweatshirt thrown on top-right next to Dad. I could feel the warmth of his shoulder as I leaned into him. He stared at the television and laughed along with the audience on the set as David Letterman announced his number seven of the top ten rejected James Bond gadgets. Still chuckling, my dad patted my knee. “What’s up, Gemma?” Then looking at his watch, said, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Dad?” I said before he could dwell on the time. “I know I need to go to bed, and I’m going to go soon. And I’m going to make sure that even though I need to stay up a little bit late tonight that I’m going to wake up on time tomorrow morning and be in a really good mood at breakfast, and I’m going to be extremely alert during class.” I had asked Dad permission to stay up late enough times to know every excuse why he thought I shouldn’t. He began to speak, but I continued before he had a chance, “And even though it may take some strong determination to do those things on less sleep, I know it will be worth it-and I think you’ll agree-since it’s for a good cause.”

Dad opened his mouth and then clapped it together with a smile. “And what-if my attorney general daughter will allow me to ask-is this `good cause’ that is keeping you up past your bed time?”

“It’s Jess.”

Dad sat forward and twisted to look around the room. “Is he here?”

“He’s outside.”

“Why is he outside?”

My face fell. While the rest of my speech up to this point was a bit scripted, exaggerated, and even manipulative, the expression on my face now was nothing but sincere. Dad sat back into the couch with an, “oh.” He stared back at the television, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He didn’t even appear to be paying attention to what was on the screen. He rubbed his hand down both sides of his face and scowled. “Well, your mom went to bed early with a headache, so you’ll have to be quiet, but why don’t you invite Jess into the house?”

I watched my dad carefully. He looked deep in thought. I was never allowed to have friends over past eight o’clock on the weekdays. This was a big exception. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Dad.” He nodded, and I got up carefully from the couch before he could change his mind.

I opened the back door and cupped one hand around my mouth. “Come on in, Jess. My dad said it was okay.”

Jess turned around to face me. He was obviously surprised at the invitation. Jess didn’t come inside my house very often. He came over more when we were little kids and would imitate scenes from Star Wars in my basement. But over the past few years we just talked outside. Jess looked up at my house as though it was a huge ship that he was terrified to board. He took a step backward. “I’m okay out here.”

I scowled at Jess’s hesitation. “What’s the matter? It’s cold out here.” It was only September, but it smelled like it was going to rain. And the breeze brought a chill to my skin.

Jess blinked his eyes a few times. “Just come out here, please?”

I puffed out an exaggerated breath of air and stepped out into the cold. We sat down on our usual spot on the steps while Jess tossed an old basketball around in his hands.

We hadn’t said a word to each other before Jess hugged the ball into his chest and announced, “My parents are getting divorced.”

I was stunned by his words-especially the unemotional way in which he said them. Jess rarely told me anything about his parents anyway, and this was big. I wasn’t quite sure how to react. The first words that came to my mind were I’m sorry, but I wasn’t sure if that was the appropriate thing to say right now. Before I could do anything, Jess continued, “It’s not that surprising; my mom has been threatening for a long time.” Jess bent down and dribbled the ball between our feet. I was still at a complete loss for words. Jess shrugged. “Anyway, he’s moving out this Saturday, and I’m going to go stay with him for the weekend.”

“You’re what?” I shouted louder than I meant to at ten o’clock at night.

“Shhh.” Jess waved his hand in the air. “It’s not a big deal. He’s just renting an apartment in West Chester. I’ll be back Sunday afternoon.”

“Why would you go stay with him? He’s a bad person.”

“He’s really only bad when he’s been drinking, and I doubt he’ll take off to any bars or liquor stores if it’s just me and him in the apartment.”

“Why are you going? Why are you taking his side?”

Jess jerked his head to look at me.Therewas a fire in his eyes I had never seen before. “I’m not taking his side, Gemma.” Each word was separated and exaggerated. “I-would-never-take-his-side.”

I recoiled at his fierceness but still couldn’t understand why he was going to go spend the whole weekend with a man who had made his family’s life so miserable. “Why are you going then?”

“Because he asked me to. And my mom thinks it’s a good idea for us not to be difficult about spending time with him. Otherwise she’s afraid that he’ll take us to court. She figures that he’ll grow apathetic about being with us over time. Pretty soon he’ll be out of our lives for good.”

I remembered seeing a movie about this. In the movie, even though the kids hated their dad, the court ordered him to have visiting rights twice a month, and they had to go with him. “But your dad is an alcoholic!” That was the first time I had said it out loud to Jess, even though I always assumed he knew that I knew. “How could he ever deserve visiting rights if he’s an alcoholic?”

“We just don’t want to make a big deal of it. We don’t want any problems.”

“But he’s mean!”

“Yeah, he is.” That was the first time Jess had admitted it. “But he’s never really hit us or anything like that, so really it won’t stand up for much in court.”

A load was lifted off my shoulders. I had always worried so much that he was physically hurting Jess and his mom and sisters. I dropped my shoulders in defeat. I never knew anyone who had parents that were divorced. It was always just something that was talked about in movies and magazines, but not in real life. It was a strange reality. My stomach cramped when I thought of that word, divorce.

I finally looked him in the eye and asked, “Are you okay?” It wasn’t like Jess to think about himself at a time like this. But I went out on a limb, hoping that he might open up.

Jess cleared his throat. “I’m worried about my mom. I think it’s hard on her knowing that us kids won’t have a father around.” It was so like him to direct the attention from himself and put it on his mom. He spun the basketball between his hands. “But as far as I’m concerned, we’ve never had much of a father anyway.”

I looked at the ground and nodded. I tried imagining what it would be like to not have my dad. That was an awful thought. But just like Jess had said, even when his dad was at home, he wasn’t much of a father. Jess and I were living in two different worlds. Jess sighed then tossed the basketball over to the cement pad at the corner of my backyard where the ten-year-old basketball stand was.

I watched the ball roll around and eventually rest next to the fence. Neither one of us spoke for a while, so I hesitantly changed the subject. “I decided today that I need a new group of school friends.”

Jess leaned his head on his fist and looked at me from the corner of his eye. For the first time that night he looked amused.

“Really? What brought you to this conclusion?”

I folded my arms and leaned into Jess for some warmth. “I don’t know. I never see Clarissa or Nina anymore. But I was getting sick of them anyway. We’re just maturing at a different rate. We don’t have a lot in common.”

Jess laughed out loud.

“What’s so funny?”

He shook his head. “I just love the way you are so acutely aware of your maturation level.” He wiped his nose-his eyes still squinting with humor. “It’s so cute.”

I nudged him in the arm with my fist then wrapped my own arm in his and squeezed as close to him as I could.