Sleight (38 page)

WHEN I WOKE up, I had a lot of trouble getting out of bed. I couldn’t remember ever being as tired. Well, other than the long bus ride to Seattle when I was thirteen.

But it was close.

Dragging myself out of bed I looked around, disoriented for a minute, and then I remembered: the underground meeting, the fight with the Shades and...

Justine.

Pulling on my clothes I stumbled into the tiny bathroom and tried to make myself somewhat presentable. No shower. I’d slept for a little over two hours and would have to race to school to make the first bell. So I had that to look forward to. The continued absurdity of worrying about my academic career in the aftermath of what I’d been through was funny, but I wasn’t laughing.

Limping down the hall I stopped at Constance’s door and knocked. Her night (morning?) had been just as long, maybe longer, so I waited without knocking again.

The door finally opened a crack and Constance’s face, looking disheveled and weary, appeared in the narrow space.

“She’s fine, but she’s still sleeping,” she said, a tired smile curving her lips.

I immediately felt guilty. She’d been up taking care of Justine while I’d been sleeping. “Sorry. I just wanted to know if she was okay before I left.”

“You’re leaving? Oh, school. Oh my God. I forget how young you are. She’ll be fine, Benny. Really.”

Ducking my head, searching for an appropriate response, I mumbled something about being late.

“Benny, go. She’ll be fine,” she said, her smile brightening slightly.

“Okay, mo…Constance.” Crap. Couldn’t even get that right.

She grinned at my near misfire as she closed the door.

I went through the kitchen, grabbed an apple and a power bar and ran out of the apartment without running into anyone else. My stomach growled unhappily as I sent down the first thing I’d eaten since lunch the day before.

I ran through the pawnshop and got on the bus with everything going on around me just a blur. It wasn’t until I settled into a seat that I realized it was snowing again, not heavily but it looked like it was going to stick. Everyone else on the bus had smiles on their faces. A perverse voice in my head wanted to clue them in to the secret war that was being waged in the city.

By the time the bus shuddered to my stop near school I had pinched my skin and slapped my cheeks enough times that I was able to fool myself into thinking that I was wide awake. I ignored the questioning looks from the other passengers as I walked past them to get off.

If they only knew.

I was less than clear headed as I walked up the steps and pulled open the door to the main entrance. I turned down the hallway and headed for homeroom.

And realized that I’d forgotten to do my homework.

Again.

I walked up and opened the door with class already in session, but not by much. Mrs. Sayles gave a slight shake of her curly-haired head and nodded at my empty seat. No stares from my classmates, just a few smirks.

By the time lunch rolled around I was a hot mess. If I hadn’t been starving I’d have taken off and cut the rest of the day, just to get some sleep. After I’d had my tray filled, I shambled over to my spot and dropped onto the bench. It only took a few minutes for Justine’s friends to find me, Kayla being the first.

She sat down opposite me and flipped her black and now green-highlighted hair back. Not Goth or punk, her appearance borrowed from both: pale makeup offset by heavy and colorful eyeshadow, pink lipstick, short black fingernails, ripped jeans, loose and baggy sweatshirt. Leaning over the table, her hands on either side of her tray she glared at me.

“Where the hell is she?”

No need to guess who she was referring to. I toyed with the idea of playing dumb.

“Do you know her parents came to my house last night? My house! They were yelling at my parents, telling them they were going to sue them because she wasn’t there!”

I shelved the idea of trying to mislead her. “She’s safe.”

Russel Chu and a couple of Justine’s other girlfriends sat down.

“Uh uh. No way is that all you’re going to tell me. Where is she?”

I couldn’t tell her much, especially with three new sets of ears listening in.

“Look, I don’t tell Justine what to do, especially since she came back.” Kayla nodded begrudgingly. Apparently we’d both been getting a taste of the new and aggressively independent Justine. “I saw her after school, she wanted to hang out with me, I told her no and then she went off and did her own thing.”

All true.

Kayla wasn’t satisfied.

“Uh huh. Sure. And you don’t know where she is?”

To drive a point home, I cocked my head and then slowly made eye contact with all of the others who were now totally listening in. Then I looked at Kayla. “I wonder how pissed Justine would be if I broadcast her business all over school?”

Kayla’s mouth twisted, she glanced at the others, not even pretending to give us some privacy. Then she slit her eyes. “Fine. I want to talk to you after school.”

Hilarious. “Get in line,” I said.

She didn’t respond and we all dug into our meals, conversation slowly picking up, but dancing around the subject everyone really wanted to talk about.

Late classes spun by without any drama. I received some light scolding, but hey, Christmas Break was just days away. Who would get picky with a student over homework right before the holiday? Especially when he’d been near the top of the honor roll every semester.

I was leaving by a side exit when Kayla caught up with me. A bright pink jacket added another discordant layer to her wardrobe, making it even harder to categorize her appearance. I guess that was the point.

“Trying to slip out and avoid me?” she asked, lifting her lip in a sneer.

“What do you want Kayla? I already told you she’s okay,” I said.

Slinging a backpack bearing a Jack Skellington logo over her shoulder, she frowned. “Not good enough. I want to know where she is so I can tell her to get her parents to calm down.” She sprinkled in some profanity while she adjusted her pack.

“Did you try to call her? Text her?” I asked.

“
Yes
. She’s not answering. I know you know something. Do you want me to go to the principal? Talk to the cops?”

Turning over the possible outcomes in my mind I decided it wouldn’t help to have her stir the pot.

“Look, she’s fine. I did see her last night but everything else I told you was true. She wasn’t feeling well enough to come to school, and she’s getting taken care of by someone who knows what they’re doing. She probably thought she was helping your parents out by not coming to your house last night.”

Narrowing her eyes she didn’t say anything, as she thought about what I’d said.

“Is she coming home today? My house?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Probably?”

I shook my head. “Most likely. Kayla, I don’t control her. Do you?”

She snorted. “No, of course not.”

“I’m telling you that the jam she got into was not my fault and that she’s going to be fine. She’ll probably go home later today.” Sure, completely recovered from a bullet wound, nothing crazy.

Blowing out a breath to push her bangs out of her eyes she pointed a stubby black-nailed finger at me. “You know what Brown? You say she’ll be okay; I believe you. You say she’ll probably head home later; I believe that, I know how she is, but not
your fault
?” She made air quotes with her hands when she said ‘
your fault’
. “Think about this: whatever she got into last night would she have if she wasn’t all tangled up in your ish?”

That was a little too close to home. I frowned but didn’t say anything. The direction she was taking the conversation didn’t have ‘happy ending’ written on it.

Raising her eyebrows, she said, “What no snappy comeback? I’ll answer for you: she wouldn’t have been near whatever B.S. messed her up if it wasn’t for you. And why is that? I’ll answer that too. She’s in love with you and can’t think straight when it comes to you.”

I was mad, but I was also chewing on what she was saying because it was very close to the mark. Maybe right on the money.

“You’re bad for her. It’s weird because you’re like, supposed to be the goody-goody boy. But you need to totally let her off the hook. Or you’re gonna do more than just piss off her parents and get her sick.”

“Knock it off Kayla. I get it.”

But she was cruising so fast I don’t think she even tried to pump the breaks on her verbal barrage.

“I don’t think you do. So, guess what? I think I’ll call her parents and tell them she’s at your place. How about that?” she crossed her arms over her chest and stood there, feet spread wide with a ‘whatareyougonnadoaboutit’ look on her face.

My guilt took a nose dive and my face got hot. I was angry. I was tired of people getting up in my face and threatening me. It was complicated by the fact that the stuff she had said was kind of true. But that didn’t give her the right to dump all over my personal life.

“Kayla you caught me on a bad day. I’m over having people blackmail, threaten and trash on me. So here’s where I’m at with you: go ahead. And when Justine’s parents do their thing and create drama I’m going to let Justine know you’re the one who put the match to that bag of crap. What do you think about that?”

I didn’t feel great about trying to one up her. She was upset and cared about Justine. But enough was enough. Her mouth closed and her lips drew into a tight line. I watched her process what I’d said and weigh it against the threat she’d made. Then she leaned toward me, her face inches from mine.

She hissed three words. The last was my name and the first two were not ‘happy birthday’.

My batting average with the opposite gender continued to suck.

I started to say something sarcastic, but caught myself. Instead I watched her make an exaggerated pirouette and storm down the hall in the other direction, taking big, long, bouncing strides that virtually screamed ‘
I am pissed off’
.

Running my hand through my hair I let out a sigh. Pushing out through the double exit doors I stepped into the gray afternoon. Swirls of snowflakes chased cars as they left the student parking lot.

It seemed as though pieces of my world that I’d been working at keeping separate were beginning to intersect. Talia showing up at the cafeteria, the secrets about my past, all of the pressures were overlapping. Knack life, home life, past life, social life. All of them tangled up and choking me.

My head felt as though it was going to explode.

I walked to the bus stop in a daze, wanting nothing more than a nap. The dusting of snow on my jacket started to melt when I got on the bus. Puddles of water dotted the steps and floor. Swinging into a seat I scooted over to the window and stared out. The snow was definitely sticking.

The bus jerked to a stop and shook me out of my daze. Snow was now falling in thick flurries that made it difficult to see. There is funny aspect about a change of weather in the Pacific Northwest: a significant change in the weather is really cool until it isn’t convenient. Then people get a little goofy. As I got off the people around me hurried, slipping and sliding with irritated looks on the faces, running off to wherever it was they were going.

Flipping the collar of my jacket up to keep the snow from falling down my neck, I hunched and walked to the pawnshop entrance.

And immediately noticed a difference. The neon sign was on and reading ‘open’. Smiling in spite of Kayla’s ambush and my fatigue, I walked in and saw Mr. Goodturn behind the counter, tinkering with an antique toy. The familiar scene clashed with all that had gone on since the last time I had seen him in his shop. And this will sound crazy, but it smelled alive. It felt alive with him in it. My bad mood was swept away in an instant.

“Ah, Benjamin. Good afternoon. I’m glad you got back before the storm socks us in,” he smiled at me over the rims of his glasses.

“It is so good to see you in here,” I said. “I felt pretty guilty for not opening the shop last week.”

“Not to worry. Pawnshops are the last things a young man should be worrying about while he is matriculating and dealing with the weighty issues of growing up.”