Wishing for Someday Soon final copy 3

by Tiffany King

  Lucinda and Jim headed out to smoke while I handled the purchases.

  Keeping an eagle eye on the register tape, I watched as the woman began to scan Lucinda’s clothes through. I groaned when I saw several dressy shirts, completely inappropriate for our lifestyle being scanned. Lucinda had an addiction to pretty clothes that she never had the opportunity to wear since she very rarely went out or worked. I grimaced when Lucinda’s clothes hit the ninety dollar mark and there was still Jim’s stack to go through. I mentally went through my items, wondering what I could put back if we exceeded the amount. My books would be the first that would have to go and that would at least give us an extra five dollars to work with.

  The sales clerk finished with Jim’s clothing and our total sat at a hundred-fifty-five, nineteen dollars over what we had to spend. I pulled Kevin’s stuff out of the buggy first, stacking it carefully as she scanned it through. The linens went next, followed by the jacket I needed and my jeans. By the time she rang my hoodies and long johns through, we were at our limit. She hadn’t got to any of my shirts yet, or the couple pairs of sweats I had picked up to sleep in. Not knowing what to do, I continued to let her scan the items through even though I knew we were going over.

  “That’ll be three hundred forty-four dollars,” she said as I handed over our three hundred dollar voucher.

  “Um, we went over. I’m sorry, I should have said something sooner,” I said mortified, knowing I had caused her extra work.

  “Well, let’s see what we can do,” she said nicely, studying the voucher over her rhinestone spectacles. “Ah, it’s a voucher from Thurston House. Well, we can take the taxes off because you get a tax free deduction,” she said, hitting a button that took our total down to three hundred twenty-three dollars.

  I grabbed the last bag that had my books and sweats in it and started to pull out the contents.

  “Now, now, not so quickly. Did you know that Wednesdays are senior days?” she asked. “And judging by the worn-out look on your face, I bet you could use a senior day break,” she said with sparkle in her eyes as she hit another button on the register, taking the total down to two hundred ninety-three dollars. “See, much better,” she said, handing me a gift certificate for seven dollars.

  “Thank you so much,” I said, feeling a slight tickle in my throat.

  “My pleasure, dearie, now you go home and take care of yourself and your sweet brother,” she said, nodding at Kevin who was bouncing around outside.

  “I will,” I promised, loading our bags into the buggy.

  “Did you get a voucher for the credit?” Lucinda asked as I pushed the buggy out the front door.

  “Yeah, but it was only seven dollars,” I said, shivering in the cold, not bothering to tell her what the kind “leech,” as she had referred to the woman earlier, had done for us.

  “Shit, I told you they were a bunch of blood suckers,” she complained to Jim as they stubbed out there cigarettes.

  “Not really,” I muttered as I loaded our bags into the car. “We all got a lot of stuff,” I continued in an offhand manner.

  Lucinda continued to complain as we pulled out of the parking lot, but I tuned her out by reading one of my new books from the bag I had placed on the seat beside me. Her voice faded away as I quickly lost myself in the story. I often speculated that if there was a God, he must have given me the gift of losing myself in a book as a lifeline. When I was reading, it didn’t matter that we were all crammed into the car together twenty-four-seven, or that we had skipped several meals. I could immerse myself so completely into a book that everything else became trivial.

  My reading was interrupted when Lucinda pulled the car into the parking lot of a laundromat.

  I stifled a groan. I knew we needed to wash the clothes, but after the stress of the thrift store, I just wanted to be back at our temporary home. “Can we do it at the laundromat at the trailer park?” I asked hopeful.

  “No, it only has two washers. Besides, Jim and I deserve a coffee break while you and Kevin do the laundry,” Lucinda said, handing me a stack of crumbled up one-dollar bills. “This is it for cash until Jim can find work,” she added.

  “Okay, I’ll make it stretch,” I said, smoothing out the bills as I went to retrieve a cart to transport our clothes into the building.

  After I loaded up the clothes and laundry soap we kept in the trunk of the car, Lucinda and Jim pulled out of the lot, promising to return in a few hours.

  I sorted the clothes into three large loads to conserve our money while Kevin used the coin machine to turn the dollar bills into quarters. At least the place was empty, so I could use three machines next to each other. It was a pain trying to keep an eye on several washers scattered throughout the facility.

  “Okay punk, thanks for your help. How ‘bout a snack?”

  “Really?” he asked, racing over to the vending machine.

  “Pick one and we can split a soda,” I added, feeling extravagant.

  He gnawed on his lip. “I don’t know, Katelyn, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

  “It’s fine, dopey boy. Mom and Jim are off getting coffee, right? Well, this is our treat. We’ll just keep it as our secret, okay?”

  He nodded. He was smart enough to know I was breaking the rules, but his desire for something to eat outweighed his conscience.

  Several minutes later, I finally had to prompt him to make a choice. He was torn between chips and his favorite candy, Peanut M&M’s.

  “Why don’t you get the M&M’s since they have peanuts inside, that way it’s like you’re getting a double treat?”

  “Good idea,” he said, grinning at me.

  I plunked some change into the vending machine for him and headed over to the soda machine to get us a drink.

  “Here you go, sis,” he said, offering me the open bag of candy as we settled onto the hard resin seats.

  “No thanks, kid, I’m not all that hungry.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked, not quite believing me.

  “Positive,” I said, trying to block out the smell of his candy so that my stomach wouldn’t growl and betray my lie.

  Kevin munched happily on his unexpected treat while I read my book until the laundry was ready to be switched around.

  A little later, while the laundry was tumbling in the dryers, I gave Kevin a ride in the laundry cart since the facility was still empty of other patrons. He loved it when I would pretend I was going to crash the cart into something, only to jerk the cart to a stop at the last possible moment. The belly laughs that poured from him made me giggle in delight. Moments like this only clarified why I could never leave him.

  Our fun came to a close as the clothes began to dry. Lucinda was seriously obsessive compulsive about her clothes getting wrinkled, and only hers mind you, which seemed like an oxymoron considering that the majority of the time we lived in the car. Though I felt the whole idea was ridiculous, I’d taken enough hits over the years to know it had to be done right. So, as each piece of her clothing became dry, Kevin and I would pull it out and shake it vigorously before smoothing it out on the folding table and rolling it like Lucinda preferred. Rolling the clothes before they were packed helped eliminate wrinkles and crease lines and Lucinda had come to appreciate this method.

  Kevin and I finished the laundry as the sun was setting outside, making the temperature fall rapidly. While we waited for Jim and Lucinda to return, I made Kevin change out of his thin worn-out jeans into a pair of the long johns and thicker jeans we had purchased earlier. He also grabbed one of his hot-from-the-dryer, long sleeved shirts to put on over his t-shirt.

  Lucinda and Jim pulled into the parking lot as I was sliding into one of my new hoodies. The warmth from the dryer engulfed me and chased away the chill that had begun to creep into the badly-insulated laundromat.

  I handed over the change and watched Lucinda as she counted out the three remaining bills.

  “How many loads did you do?” she asked, causing Kevin to
stiffen beside me.

  I patted his hand in the dark, reassuring him. “Four,” I lied easily, not feeling any guilt. Kevin having something in his empty belly outweighed lies in my book. “The washers were seventy-five cents each, and each load took fifty cents worth of drying,” I added before she could ask, accounting for every cent we’d spent.

  Chapter 5

  The next day of school went much like my first day had gone except I now had my own desk in each of my classes.

  As luck would have it, my new desk was located smack dab next to Max’s which seriously shook my resolve to ignore his advances. He was as attentive as the day before and I couldn’t help but respond to his easy nature as he continued to pepper me with questions.

  “How'd your assessment go?” he asked as we headed out of math class later that afternoon.

  “Um, I’m not sure. Hanson said he would go over it tonight,” I said, trying to sound blasé.

  “Well, my offer still stands,” He said.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “But…”

  “No buts, I’m just not sure what I'll need help with,” I answered, trying to skate around the real issue.

  “No prob. It all comes easy to me.”

  “Wow, cocky much?” I asked, laughing at his pretend hurt expression.

  “Ha-ha. Nah, I'm not sayin I don't have my faults. Don’t even think of asking me to make anything in the kitchen, that's a complete disaster.”

  “Ha, me too,” I laughed.

  “Great, our future kids will starve,” he said, grinning at me.

  “Guess that means marriage is out,” I joked.

  “No way, we'll just hire a cook or order out,” he said, finding a solution to a moot point.

  “Genius,” I said, still bantering as we took our seats back in Mr. Graves’s class.

  “So, what are your plans this weekend?” he asked just before Mr. Graves could start in on our science experiment.

  “Unpacking,” I lied, sidestepping what he was really asking.

  “The whole weekend?” he persisted.

  “Yeah…” I was cut off as Mr. Graves called our attention to the front of the room.

  I glanced back at Rebecca to see if she had caught our exchange and saw the resigned look on her face. I was confused on the whole who-was-dating-whom situation. They all seemed so close. Even earlier that day, I was convinced Clint and Alicia were dating until he hit on me during P.E. class. Alicia had been standing right beside me, and I tried to prepare myself for a verbal attack, but she merely laughed when I turned him down.

  The rest of the day passed quickly after Mr. Graves paired us up to do the experiment listed on the board. The steps for the experiment were extensive, so my partner Courtney and I spent little time chitchatting as we did the appropriate calculations needed to complete the task. Mr. Graves strolled around the room, stopping at each group to offer pointers or praise.

  “Good job, girls,” he said, stopping at our table to compliment us.

  “Thanks, I did a similar one last year,” I said, feeling a little guilty for the step-up I had.

  “Excellent, half the battle is remembering what you’ve learned,” he said, patting my shoulder as he strolled away.

  “Man, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a teacher even half as nice as the ones here,” I told Courtney as we cleaned up our mess.

  “Well, my dad kind of demands it,” she said, stowing our beakers in the appropriate place.

  “Your dad?” I asked puzzled.

  “Yeah, he kind of heads up the school board here, and I’ve heard he’s tough as nails,” she said, laughing lightly.

  “Wow, that’s really cool,” I said, feeling a touch envious that her father had taken such an active role in her education.

  “It’s a pain sometimes. He always knows everythinggggggggg that’s going on,” she said, dragging out the word.

  “I bet,” I said giggling.

  “So, I was kind of eavesdropping yesterday and heard you telling the others that you’ve been to a few schools. What’s that like?”

  I grimaced at her words. “Not fun,” I finally answered honestly.

  “Really? I’m a little jealous of all the people you’ve gotten to meet. Everyone here’s cool, but sometimes I crave more space. I hate feeling like we’re in a fishbowl all the time with everyone always in your business.”

  “That’s true, but I think it’s pretty cool how all of you have known each other all your lives,” I said, trying to keep the wistful tone out of my voice.

  “Yeah, that part’s pretty cool, but it still gets pretty cliquey here,” she said, looking over at Rebecca and her friends.

  I nodded my head, understanding what she was saying. In my last high school of more than three thousand students, we had the standard division of groups. There were the jocks and cheerleaders, who were all nice for the most part, but preferred to hang with each other since their sports kept them so tightly entwined; the band geeks, who you never saw that much because they were always practicing somewhere; the churchgoers, who enjoyed spreading their message and were always trying to recruit you for some church event. The druggies were neither here nor there. They floated through school like they didn’t have a care in the world. The worst of all the groups were the really smart kids. Not the pocket-protector-wearing, tape-on-the-glasses nerdy types, I mean the ones on the college track. They had little time for anyone outside of their realm and enjoyed the exclusivity of their group. Then there were the mice as I like to call them, who were the loners or quiet types. Most of the time they preferred to be by themselves, although occasionally they would be brave enough to accept a friend into their lonely existence. The in-betweeners were everyone else and enjoyed the privilege of floating into any group they chose. That’s where I fit in. I usually started the first day as a mouse, but would manage to float into whatever group suited me best.

  It was evident here in my two short days at Munford that the groups were a little more simplified: those with a lot of money, those with some money, and then the few with very little money. For the most part, the lines blurred between each group and they all seemed to get along pretty well, with the exception of Bethany and her brother. I wondered, since I lived in the same trailer park, if eventually I would be treated similarly to how they were here, but something tells me it has more to do with them personally than some kind of rich or poor class divide.

  “So, are you going to the Halloween dance at Alicia’s at the end of the month,” Courtney asked.

  “Um, I’m not sure. She mentioned it yesterday at lunch, but I’m not much of a dancer.”

  Courtney laughed in response. “None of us really are either. We all just hang out. You know, listen to music, that kind of thing. It’s pretty cool since Alicia’s parents bought these big, like oversized outdoor heaters. They set it all up in their barn that’s been renovated,” she said smiling. “You should come.”

  “Okay, well that sounds more like my kind of thing.” I said, returning her smile. “So, if it’s not a real dance, how does everyone dress?” I asked, mentally going through my limited wardrobe.

  “Well, that’s the funny thing,” she chuckled. “Everyone still gets dressed up and everything, just for the fun of it, I guess.”

  “Oh, well, I…”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure you have something that’ll work,” Courtney said, seeing my apprehension.

  “Of course,” I said, plastering a fake smile across my face.

  Any further conversation was cut off as Mr. Graves dismissed us for the day. Grabbing my stuff, I headed out the door.

  “Hey, Katelyn, wait up,” Max called after me.

  I paused for a moment so he could catch up.

  “I have to catch the bus,” I said in a rush as he joined me.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. Macon, the bus driver, will wait on you.” Max said reassuring me as I walked swiftly down the hall. “Besides, if you ever miss the bus, I can give you a ride,”
he added.

  “I just don’t want to worry Kevin,” I said, still not slowing down.

  “So, anyway, I wanted to ask you if you would go to Alicia’s dance with me.” He finally asked, keeping pace with me.

  “Won’t your girlfriend mind?” I asked a little harshly.

  He looked taken aback by my tone or maybe it was my question. “Girlfriend?” he asked puzzled.

  “Rebecca,” I said, watching the play of emotions cross his face.

  “Do you really think I’d ask you out if I was seeing someone else?” he asked earnestly, grabbing onto my hand to halt me.

  “I don’t know. It just seems like there’s something there,” I answered truthfully.

  “We went out a couple times, but I’ve also gone out with Alicia and Courtney. We’ve all known each other so long that when we do try dating it never fits right. The only two that seemed to make it work are Brandon and Shirley,” he said, naming the other two in their group. “They’ve been going out almost since she moved here.”

  “I think the girls may feel differently,” I said.

  He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “I know I guess, but I can’t force something I don’t feel, especially now that I know how it should feel,” he said, looking at me meaningfully.

  “You don’t even know me,” I said quietly.

  “Then give me the chance to get to know you,” he replied sweetly.

  I looked down at our hands that were still linked and relished in the warmth his hand was giving mine. “What if you don’t like what you find out?” I finally said meeting his eyes, more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt in my life.

  “I don’t think that could even be a remote possibility. Will you go with me?” He asked once again.

  Finally caving under his charm, I nodded.

  A broad smile spread across his face at my nod. He squeezed my hand before he loped off to join his friends down the hall.

  I watched his retreating back for a moment before rushing off so I really wouldn’t miss the bus.

  I mumbled an apology to the bus driver, who, by the way, was a dead-ringer for a mall Santa Claus with his white hair and long beard.