The Bubble Wrap Boy (18 page)

F
or the next three weeks I burned the candle at both ends.

In fact, I spent most of the time twirling it like a flaming baton—without, might I add smugly, ever singeing my fingers.

Although I came close a bunch of times.

There was a lot to do, but no point complaining about it. My eyes never left the gleaming prizes on offer: revenge, glory, girls for Sinus, and most importantly, the chance to cut through the lies that surrounded my family. That alone was worth all the jeopardy.

I attacked skating with venom. There was no point compounding what everyone already thought of me by falling on my butt at Skatefest. Do that and I might as well not turn up. No, I needed to be sharper than I'd ever been, which meant grabbing every minute, every second, and nailing my technique.

So that's what I did, regardless of the risks of being spotted by Mom in the process. I minimized the chances as best I could, wearing clothes she wouldn't recognize: baggy jeans, plus a hoodie belonging to Sinus and a fur-lined hat with earflaps that Dad occasionally wore in the winter. I might have been sweating like a lunatic in the sun, but it was worth it if it bought me the anonymity I craved.

I rode the board all over town, knowing I could only hit the ramp after dark, and even then I was dependent on Dad's clandestine help. When I knew Mom was at the hospital, I worked on stamina and balance, weaving in and out of parked cars, zipping around baby carriages, lines at the bus stop, anything that challenged me to stay on the board.

I built up endurance over greater distances too, when Mom was manning the phone at the takeout and I was out on deliveries. The deliveries gave me the freedom to ride across town to see Dora at Oakview, and I'd sit with her, building up her trust, so that when it came to it, and we did our jailbreak on the big day, she wouldn't freak out. That was something I couldn't afford, not on any account.

The visits became a highlight for me, the moments when I found her waiting on the lawn. I had to be careful: sometimes I only grabbed a minute before spotting a caregiver returning. But the important thing was that Dora knew I was there, wanting to be part of her life.

I started feeling more confident in her company. The paranoia that I might break her started to disappear: I started to believe, truly, that she was getting something out of me being there.

“We have fun, don't we, Aunt Dor?” I asked as I finished another tale of Sinus's complete lack of tact. She rocked her chair with such joyful force that I had no doubt what the answer was. Made me look forward to introducing them properly; she'd only glimpsed Sinus once as he'd dived into her closet.

“We should have a day out, you know, me and you. Somewhere other than here. What do you think?”

She looked at me intently.

“Nowhere far. You wouldn't miss your lunch or anything. I just thought you might want to watch me on this thing.”

Her eyes went to the board. “I'm not as quick on these wheels as you are on yours, but I'm up for a race if you are.”

She laughed again, and I felt a charge of positivity fizz around my body, reinforcing everything I was trying to do.

If Dora was just as up for it as I was, then it had to be worth a try. Made me wonder if I should enlist more help, maybe from Dad. The thought stayed with me until Dad and I were on our own again.

“How well do you know Dora?” I asked him as he drove me home post-practice. I tried to make it sound like an innocent question, not wanting to give any hint of my secret visits.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, how often do you see her? Is she comfortable with you, like she must be with Mom?”

Dad looked a bit sheepish. “Well, she knows who I am, but I haven't seen her in months. It's difficult. I didn't know her before the accident and…well…I'm not exactly big on small talk.”

“Maybe she doesn't need you to talk to her. It might be enough just to sit and keep her company.”

He looked at me from the corner of his eye, wondering where this new Dora expertise was coming from. I'd pushed too far, too quick.

“Maybe I'll go soon, then. When your mom needs a day off.”

“Or maybe you could do something different with her? I mean, she must get bored with the same surroundings. Might do her good to see something different, something new.”

“Charlie, where are you going with this?”

I shrugged lazily. “Nowhere. I'm just interested. You can't expect me to know about her, then not care. Be fair, will you?”

“I'll be fair if you tell me the truth. I can't take her out of the hospital just so you can see her again. As much as I know you'd like that, I just can't do it.”

I felt my temper rise. He wasn't going to help my plan in any way, and he was also reminding me of the promises he hadn't made good on.

“But you are still going to talk to Mom about everything, aren't you? Like you said you would?”

There was a pause. Not a long one, but it felt definitive.

“I just have to pick the right time.”

“Oh, right. And when is that? When I'm eighteen? Twenty-one? Or are you just going to wait until something really awful happens to Dora? Is she going to have to die before you finally get around to it?”

That hurt him. I knew it did, but I didn't flinch. I didn't have time to mess around anymore, and he shouldn't have wanted to either.

“Look, I'm doing my best,” he pleaded as we stopped at a light. “I'm helping you now, aren't I? Isn't that enough?”

I reached for the handle and pulled the door open before jumping out. “Nowhere near,” I snapped, throwing the board beneath my feet and pushing off.

“Charlie. Get back in, will you?”

I ignored him.

“Come on. Mom'll be on her way home by now. What if she sees you?”

I smiled thinly. “Do you really think that matters anymore, Dad? Really?”

He had no answer to that, and after crawling alongside me for another hundred yards, he accelerated away. I was on my own, in more ways than one.

S
chool was buzzing, though it wasn't just the prospect of six weeks off that had everyone so excited. It was the double whammy of Skatefest and Sinus's anonymous art extravaganza that had everyone whipped into a frenzy.

Mr. Peach had been true to his word about the
vandalism
and had done everything in his power to bring the school back to its usual beige tones, short of patrolling the grounds with a rabid German shepherd.

But every time the janitor painted a wall, Sinus redecorated it, his mind and hand going to extraordinary lengths to ensure the new design was bigger, better, bolder, and way more infuriating for the principal.

Students started turning up early for classes, faces pushed through the locked gates for a first peek at the new designs.

Copycat images appeared on pencil cases and bags; Peach went ballistic when a huge group of eighth-grade girls wrote
BWB
on their faces in pen. When someone started selling T-shirts, I found it hard to believe that Sinus hadn't already thought of it.

He strutted around school, anonymous but strangely famous at the same time (at least in his own head). He spent far less time with his notebook in his hand, which, if the teachers had been smarter, might have given the game away.

He didn't seem to miss it; why would he, when he'd traded a book for canvases that were
way
bigger?

We spent breaks and lunches sprawled in the sun, putting the rest of the plan together as best we could. It was only a week away, yet Operation Dora had more holes in it than one of Sinus's hankies. So much so that success or failure rested on life's most unreliable thing: the weather.

It had to be sunny on the day of Skatefest. If the sun was shining, then Dora would be outside; my detailed research into her daily routine told me as much. The equation was simple: warmth plus sunbathing aunt equaled nephew hastily pushing her out of the gates.

But if it was pouring rain, then Sinus and I would have to infiltrate locked doors, CCTV cameras, and an army of prying eyes. In short, we'd be screwed.

We studied as many weather forecasts as possible, poring over long-range possibilities and probabilities, ignoring the doomsayers in favor of those who promised only a twenty percent chance of rain. Oh my god, we were nerds and we knew it, but for once I really didn't care. Not if it all paid off.

“What's the best thing that could come out of all this?” I asked Sinus as we lazed around, appreciating one of his biggest and funkiest works, a
BWB
in the shape of a jet bursting clean out of the middle of a fiery sun.

“What, apart from ending up surrounded by the most gorgeous women known to humanity?”

“Well, that's a given,” I laughed. “Love
is
still blind, isn't it?”

He didn't know what I was getting at.

“What else, though?” I went on. “Apart from that?”

“Not being expelled. I mean, what's the point in redecorating a whole school if you're not there every day to appreciate it?”

“You don't really think Peach will stop painting over them, do you? And as soon as he finds out it's you, you'll be doing it yourself.”

“Nah.” He grinned. “Never happened to Banksy, and won't to me either.”

“Good to see you setting your standards so high.” It was typical that he'd compare himself to the best in the business.

“What about you? Who've you got your eye on? And don't you dare tell me it doesn't matter what happens.”

I thought about it, though my goals weren't as epic as his. A girlfriend would be a big win, but I didn't have the skills or the inclination to juggle more than one. Not that Sinus did either.

An end to all the secrets would be good too, though I couldn't be sure if our plan, even if we pulled it off, would start a new chapter in Mom's honesty. She might think I'd betrayed her as badly as she had me, and if that was the case? Well, we all knew where the power lay in our house.

The thought started to suffocate me worse than the bubble wrap ever had.

“I just don't want to be anonymous anymore.”

“Anonymous? You? After what already went on with your mom at the ramp?”

“All right, wrong word. I just want it to be
different,
be someone to cheer rather than laugh at. I don't want to be the best, and I don't want to be famous either. I'd just settle for not being infamous. Know what I mean?”

He paused and looked at me momentarily with softening eyes, until…

“I haven't got a clue what you're talking about. Or why you'd be so modest about it. This is a chance to stamp yourself all over this place, be talked about for years after we've left. Me and you, the comeback kids!”

I shook my head. “Nah, you can have all that. I'll settle for not doing the walk again. If I don't get kicked for the next three years, then it's all been worth it.”

Sinus blew air noisily through his lips.

“I don't know why I waste my talent on you sometimes. Makes me wonder why I didn't choose some other unfortunate to shower with glory.”

“Yeah, I really am lucky, aren't I?” I laced my voice with as much sarcasm as I could muster, but it wasn't enough to penetrate his rhinoceros hide.

“It's my pleasure. You're my project as well as my pal. And to prove it, I'm going to need your board.”

“Um, why?” I didn't like the idea of giving it up this close to Skatefest, not when my tricks needed as much work as possible.

“Never you mind why. Just trust your uncle Sinus. Oh, and you need to think about what to wear on the big day too.”

I looked at my clothes, then thought about my limited wardrobe. “Well, that's easy enough. Jeans. T-shirt. Probably long-sleeved, in case I wipe out spectacularly.”

“You still don't get it, do you?” He sat up now, eyes wide and burning. “I've spent two months building you the coolest persona in the whole freaking school. Everyone wants to know what
BWB
means, so when you stand on the top of that ramp, THAT'S the moment everyone's jaw has to drop. That's when they have to realize you're the Bubble Wrap Boy and that you're taking the name back. So if you turn up in jeans and a T-shirt, then I'll spray you a costume myself. And you won't look good with a pair of graffiti boobs. Believe me.”

Point made, he lay back, hands behind his head. Great. Another thing to fill up my brain, alongside kidnap, ridicule, and potentially the angriest parents on the planet.

It was all going completely to plan. What could possibly go wrong?