Tangled (14 page)

The luau took place in the same conference room we’d been in all day, except now there was a pineapple on either end of the long table. Caramel popcorn was swelling out of beach pails. And someone had positioned an inflatable tiki pole next to fake palm trees. Jason’s iPod, plugged into speakers, was blasting ancient songs like “Hot Hot Hot.”

To add to the humiliation of simply being here, I had to wear a yellow plastic lei. There was a sign on the door that read
HAWAIIAN GARB MANDATORY—GET SWEPT AWAY BY THE TROPICAL SPIRIT
. A few of the girls had grass skirts over their jeans and my roommate, John, was wearing a flowered shirt. Jason had offered Hawaiian shirts to all the guys, but John was the only taker. He also had about six leis around his neck and
he was walking around saying “Aloha” to everyone as he slurped a virgin Mai Tai through a purple straw.

Abby was wearing a sheer tank top and a coconut-shell contraption over her breasts. When I first saw her, my legs went shaky. And then she, of all people, had to stroll over to me and slip on my lei. As her fingers grazed my neck, I forced myself to do geometry equations in my head. The Pythagorean theorem is the best way for me to, well, reverse the boner effect. But even as Abby toted her armful of leis to the next person and I discreetly positioned my lower half behind a table, Pythagoras wasn’t pulling through. Finally, after calculating the circumference of three circles, I was back to normal.

“Hot Hot Hot” segued into “…Baby, One More Time.” Once that finally ended, Jason paused the iPod and clapped his hands. “Hey, everyone!” he shouted. “Looks like we could use a little something to lube the conversation.”

Lube the conversation?
This guy was definitely not from Earth.

Abby sidled up to him. “My name isn’t Abby anymore,” she said. “It’s
Api
. That’s the Hawaiian translation.”

“And I’m Iakona,” Jason said.

“We looked up the Hawaiian translations of all your names,” Abby said. “Are you guys ready?”

There were a few meager
uh-huh
s, but mostly no one said anything. I had to wonder whether everyone else thought this whole thing was pathetic. How could they not? Then again, some kids had actually been dancing just now.

Abby glanced at her clipboard and began reading names, pointing to each victim as she went along. Cassandra was “Kakanakala.” Julie was “Kuli.” Every time Abby announced a name, all the kids stared at that person. I swept my tongue over my retainer, flush against the roof of my mouth. Even here, where I didn’t really care what anyone thought of me, I still detested the idea of a public gaping.

“Owen,” Abby said upon arriving at me, “is
Owena
.”

People looked over at me, laughing. Like,
Ha, ha, now the skinny shy kid has a girl’s name
,
so funny
. I could feel my cheeks growing hot. I composed a mental text message to my mom, cursing her for sending me here. Seriously, is
this
what she calls enhancing my social life?

When Abby was done with the names, Jason said, “Limbo contest in ten minutes. Participation is mandatory.”

He started up the music again. People meandered back to the food table. And I stood there in my yellow lei, fending off this strong sense that if I didn’t escape right now, there was no hope for me ever again.

I edged out of the conference room before Jason or Abby could grab my arm and give me a lecture about mandatory fun. I hurried down the carpeted hallway and took the elevator to the third floor. There were two middle-aged men on the computers. One was checking stocks. The other was cruising profiles of single women. I noticed he had a wedding band on his left hand.
Jerk,
I thought, watching him. I wish I could find a way to email his wife and tell her what her husband really does on his business trips.

As he stood up from the computer, I shot him a poisonous glare which, judging from his boneheaded expression, he totally didn’t notice. Then I sat down, logged onto my blog, and began writing.

Before I could think twice, I clicked “post,” and then quickly checked my Buddy List. Sure enough, she was online, but she wasn’t IMing me. The guy on the other computer glanced over. I realized I still had the lei around my neck. I chucked it in the trash and refreshed the screen. Still nothing. I went onto the Greyhound site and jotted down some schedule information. I hit “refresh” again. I looked up the address of the children’s museum.

By the fifth “refresh,” a new post had appeared on my blog.

Once I was done reading her post, I could barely breathe. Not in the asthma sense. More like:
Is this really happening I think I’m turning purple what the hell have I gotten myself into I’m going to pass out
. The business guy got up and left the room. I was still struggling for air when an IM appeared on the screen.

I took the elevator back downstairs. As I approached the conference room, I could hear bongo drums. I stepped inside. The lights were dimmed and they had fake torches on the table. And there, in the center of the room, was a hula hoop contest. A bunch of girls were rotating hula hoops around their hips, in fierce competition with my roommate, who now had at least a dozen leis around his neck.

When John’s hula hoop dropped to the ground, I quickly approached him.

“What’s up, bro?” he asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“Listen,” I whispered. “Can I borrow your phone? They took mine away this afternoon.”

“Yeah,” he said, slipping his cell into my hand. “Just be careful.”

I nodded and hurried to the bathroom. As soon as I was locked in a stall, I dialed my brother’s number.

“Hello?” Dakota asked.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Owen? Where’re you calling from?”

“My phone got taken away this afternoon. That’s why I had to hang up.”

“Someone took your phone away? Who? Aren’t you in Rochester?”

“Mom didn’t tell you?” I asked.

“Tell me what? All I know is that you called me before and said you needed to be saved. I tried you back but your phone was turned off.”

I swallowed my last ounce of pride and told Dakota about ReaLife to a Real Life. When I was done talking, I braced myself for a verbal reaming, or at least a chuckle at my pathetic expense, but all he said was, “No way. No
fucking
way. What can I do?”

“Think of a reason to pick me up. I can’t get out of here on my own. I need someone eighteen or over to sign me out.”

“As in, dead grandmother?”

“Maybe that,” I said. My throat got tight as I
wondered whether we could pull this off. “Or maybe, I don’t know, I can’t—”

“Don’t worry,” Dakota said. “I’ll think of something. Do you want me to come tonight? I just have to borrow gas money.”

“I can survive until morning. And I’ll pay you back for gas.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I can do. I know what it’s like to be on one of Mom’s exiles. And besides, I’m sort of making up for years of abuse.”

“Seriously?” I asked. Dakota has never outright acknowledged our less-than-great relationship growing up. Hearing him say it now, I could feel tears stinging my eyes.

“I’m not saying you didn’t deserve it, O.” Dakota laughed. “But I’m restocking the karma bank and you’re at the top of my list.”

At seven thirty the next morning, the room phone rang. John was snoring like a broken muffler. I reached over to the table between us and quickly answered it.

“Is this Owen Evans?” a man’s voice asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“This is Jason. I just got a call from your brother. Something’s come up. A family emergency. He’ll be picking you up in a half hour.”

He really did it,
I thought.
Leave it to Dakota.

“Dude, are you okay?” Jason asked. “You’re probably upset. Want me to send Abby over? She’s good at the counseling.”

“No,” I said quickly, thinking of her coconut-shell bra. The last thing I needed was a boner when I was trying to look grim. “I’ll be okay.”

“You’re a minor, so corporate is faxing me some forms for your brother to sign. That’s the only way I can release you.”

And my mom insisted this seminar didn’t resemble any form of captivity.

“You sure you don’t want to talk to Abby?” Jason asked.

“Maybe you could just ask her for my phone back,” I said.

“Consider it done,” Jason said. “See you in the lobby in thirty.”

I took a shower and threw everything into my duffel. I slung my bag over my shoulder and turned to leave the room. John was still comatose. I wondered if he’ll be weirded out to wake up and discover I’m missing. Oh, well. He seems like a social guy so I’m sure he’ll survive. Then again, he was definitely nice to me, nicer than most people here. I grabbed a pen from the desk and wrote a note on the hotel stationery.

When I got to the lobby, Dakota was standing by a plastic palm tree, talking to Jason. He was wearing a white baseball cap pulled low over his eyes and he had this frown on his face.

“Hey,” Dakota said, holding his fist up and knocking it against mine. This is Dakota’s standard greeting. It never ceases to stress me out as I struggle to remember the right way to knock him back.

“Are you hanging in there?” Jason asked.

I shrugged. I didn’t know what Dakota had told him, so I didn’t say a word.

“Listen,” Dakota said. “We better get going. We’ve got a lot to do today.”

Jason nodded and then handed me my phone and a blue folder. There was a sticker on it with the ReaLife to a Real Life logo. “Abby compiled some things for you,” he said. “We were going to hand them out today. Dude, it’s a bummer that you have to leave. If you want to call corporate, they can probably credit you for another session.”

“We’ll do that,” Dakota said in his sincerest tone. Then he pointed his visor toward the revolving door.

I slid the folder into my duffel and followed my brother outside. As we stepped into the warm July
morning, I exhaled. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath.

“What did you tell him?” I asked as we crossed the parking lot, Dakota with his steady stride, and me, romping clumsily next to him. I could see my brother’s car, a dented Taurus with a Brockport Blue Devils bumper sticker. Then I saw another bumper sticker next to it.
A DAY WITHOUT SUNSHINE IS, LIKE, NIGHT
. Weird. I gave that to him for Christmas last year. Actually, I bought one for me too, which I stuck on my laptop. I thought it was funny in a stupid kind of way. But when Dakota tore open the wrapping paper, he made this face like
more weird Owen shit
and tossed it aside.

“I called the hotel when I was about an hour away,” Dakota said. “I just said there’d been a family emergency and I needed to speak to one of the leaders.”

“You decided not to kill Pauline?” I asked. That’s our grandmother. She surpasses all stereotypes of bitchy old lady.

Dakota smiled and shook his head. “Tempting, but as I said, I’m working on the karma thing. Besides, we sort of did have a family emergency.”

“What?”

Dakota gestured his thumb over his shoulder, back
toward the hotel. “That asswipe teaching people how to socialize? Dude, that’s a serious emergency.”

I laughed, harder than I had in a long time.

When we got into the car, Dakota offered me a can of Coke and a pack of Nutter Butters. “Breakfast?”

“Thanks,” I said, tearing open the cookies.

“I figured you’d be hungry.”

Dakota started the car. Classic rock blasted from the sound system, the bass pumped high. I studied my brother as he glanced in his rearview and shifted the car into reverse. Sometimes I can’t believe he’s only two years older than me. He seems so confident, driving all the way to Syracuse, taking care of business. Even when I’m eighteen, I doubt I’ll have caught up with Dakota.

“You want to go to Rochester or Brockport?” Dakota switched on his blinker. “I’m thinking Brockport is probably safer. Mom won’t have any scouts reporting to her. When she gets back from Florida, we can just say you got sick and I picked you up and we didn’t want to bother her while she was on vacation.”

“Actually…” I spit my retainer into my hand, ate a Nutter Butter, and drank some Coke. “Would you be able to take me to the Syracuse bus station? I looked it up. It’s on the P and C Parkway, off Route Eighty-one.”

Dakota turned to me. “Why are you going to the bus
station? I can drive you home.”

“I’m not going home,” I said quickly. “I’m taking a ten-twenty-five bus to New York City.”

“Why the fuck are you going to New York City?”

“To see a girl.” I ate another cookie and tried to look as casual as possible.

Dakota stared straight ahead, one hand gripping the wheel.
He’s angry,
I thought to myself.
He thinks I’ve trapped him into this, used him to sign those release forms. In a way, I guess I did
. I wondered if Dakota was going to yell or, worse, smack the side of my head. I clutched my hand nervously over my gut. I suddenly had to pee.

Dakota turned to me. “So who’s the girl? Do you even know her?”

“Yeah,” I said vaguely. “I know her.”

Dakota drove down the highway in silence. After a minute, he glanced at me again. “Is she hot?”

I nearly choked on a Nutter Butter. “Yeah,” I said. “She’s also nice.”

Dakota ate two of his cookies and then said, “But here’s the problem. Mom would kill me if she found out. You know that, right? She’d kill
me
, not you. I signed those forms. I drove you to the goddamn bus station.”

“I think I’m more on the line here,” I said.

“You don’t understand,” Dakota said. “Let’s put aside any sibling shit right now and lay it all on the table. You’re Mom’s baby. If anything happened to you, my ass would be so far on the line there wouldn’t be any room left for your skinny ass.”

I stared out my window, picturing Jena waiting for me under the butterflies, wondering why I hadn’t shown up. Or maybe she knew I wouldn’t show. She’s read my blog, after all. She knows I’m a chicken.

“How important is this?” Dakota asked.

I turned to him. “Very.”

“So give me the details.”

I told him how I’d go to New York City today and meet up with her. We’d already arranged a time and place, and I had plenty of cash from my library job to take cabs everywhere. She had keys to an apartment where we could sleep tonight. Tomorrow morning, I’d catch a bus back to Rochester. I’d only be gone thirty hours, but it’d probably be the most significant thirty hours of my life.

When I said that, Dakota nodded. “Tell me where it is again.”

“The bus station?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

I dug into my pocket and pulled out the map I drew from the computer last night. Dakota glanced over at it. Then he veered off at the next exit and did a quick U-turn in a parking lot.

Once we were back on the highway, this time heading in the opposite direction, Dakota turned to me. “I have to say, you blew me away just now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe because you’re my little brother, but I just didn’t think that was your style, running away to New York City to meet a cute girl. It’s pretty legendary.” Dakota popped a Nutter Butter and shook his head. “Blew me away.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I said. I was trying to sound low-key, but in reality I was swelling with a near-explosive amount of pride. Our whole lives, my brother has never, ever given me that kind of compliment.

“I’ve met a girl, too,” Dakota said after a minute.

“Oh, really?” I asked sarcastically. I mean, it’s not exactly a newsflash that Dakota has met a girl.

“I know, you’re so surprised. But this one is different. First of all, I can’t even call her a girl. She’s in her twenties and has a little kid. And are you really ready to be blown away?”

I nodded curiously.

“It’s a platonic deal. We’re just friends and we want to keep it that way. We’ve been writing letters back and forth. She lives up near Pauline and Bill. That’s where I met her.”

“Letters?” I asked.

“Like with an envelope and a stamp.”

“I’m blown away,” I said. “I’m so far up in the sky the birds can’t even reach me.”

We both cracked up. A little while later, as Dakota pulled into the bus station, he shifted into park. “I’m going to wait with you.”

“You don’t have to,” I said.

“I want to make sure you get on that bus.”

He reached for his door handle and then paused, leaned across me, and clicked open the glove box. He scrounged around for a second before producing two condoms. “Take these with you,” he said, tossing them into my lap.

I stared at the orange wrappers. They were extra-large condoms. Dual pleasure. My face flushed. Extra large and dual pleasure are two things I can honestly say I’ve never experienced in my life.

“I don’t think I’m going to need these,” I mumbled.

“Take them.” Dakota slugged me in the arm. “The last thing we need is another little you running around.”

As Dakota stepped out of the car, I sat there for a second, rubbing where he punched me. Some things never change.
Then again,
I thought as I tucked the condoms into my bag,
I guess other things do
.