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Sinclair Summer

Page 9

by Beth Bowland


  “Girl, whatever you do, don’t scratch. You’ll jack your legs up for life.” Porsche shook her head at me.

  Andre didn’t laugh out loud, but he definitely looked like he was going to crack up at any moment. He gave me one of his sweet smiles, showing off those cute dimples.

  “Poison ivy can’t get the Kat woman down.”

  I knew he liked Porsche, but I still melted when he said my name. Delusional or not, I still liked Andre. And I wasn’t ready to give up hope on our future together.

  Chapter 17

  I PRAYED THAT THE ROAD TRIP home would go smoothly and my itching would stay to a minimum. We all sat in the same seats on the way back. Andre was successful in blocking Chu from taking his place next to Porsche.

  “Whatever happened to the shady neighbor you guys were watching? What was his name?” Andre asked. He was actually being more sociable this time around.

  “Saturn Maxwell,” Chu answered.

  “He’s still suspect, but we’re unable to get anything concrete on him,” Kiara said as she repositioned her headband in her hair.

  I was getting ready to add my two cents, when my words were choked inside my mouth by an indescribable smell. Everyone immediately looked around.

  “Wow, we musta passed a skunk or something,” Dr. Jackson said.

  “It smells like it’s stuck to the car,” Mom added.

  “Chu, did you take your sneakers off?” I asked.

  “Whew! Smells awful,” Kiara moaned.

  Chu started laughing. “Dude, my shoes are on. It’s not me.”

  I couldn’t help but notice Porsche had been suspiciously quiet throughout the whole ordeal. She nervously twisted a piece of her hair.

  I nudged Chu in the side. When I got his attention, I ducked my head down so no one could see me except Chu and Kiara. I held my nose and pointed to Porsche. I refrained from throwing out the fact that she should’ve listened to me when I tried to warn her about inhaling all those blueberries.

  Andre was sorta giving Porsche a sideways glance. I think he also knew who dropped the stink bomb. I wondered what he thought of his princess now.

  As soon as Dr. Jackson dropped us off at home, I said my good-byes. I ran into the house to look in the full-length bathroom mirror. Stripping down to my underwear, I checked the backs of my legs. There were a few small bumps and welts but nothing real serious yet. Hopefully, the cold water from the hose neutralized most of it. I took a quick shower and decided to call it a night.

  Kiara came into my room. “Man, was this a crazy day or what?” she said as she pulled back my comforter and fluffed my pillows. “How ya feeling?”

  I gratefully climbed into bed and allowed her to cover me up. “I’m not feeling too bad. I’m afraid of what I’ll look like in the morning.”

  “I heard that rinsing with cold water will usually take care of it, as long as you didn’t touch other places on your body while the oil was still on your skin.”

  Snuggling further down into the bed, I gave her a smirk. “Thank you, Dr. Kia.”

  “What about your girl, Porsche?” Kiara laughed and climbed into bed next to me. “Talk about foul.”

  I could not believe my sweet Elmo-loving sister was crackin’ on Porsche. We may fuss and fight, but I loved my twin.

  The next day as I sat waiting for Chu to meet me at the park, I thought of my mother and Dr. Jackson and allowed myself, for a brief moment, to imagine what it would be like if they did, in fact, get married. I wondered if our dad would attend and how he’d take the news. I heard my mother tell Mrs. Sanchez that he was living with his girlfriend, some sneaky, lyin’ snake-in-the-grass—my mother’s words, not mine. He didn’t come to visit very often, nor did he invite us to Chicago. Maybe the sneaky, lyin’ snake-in-the-grass didn’t like kids.

  Then I thought about how I could start getting better grades and maybe get skipped up a grade so Andre and I would graduate high school and college together before we got married. Awesome.

  “So, chica, are you totally diseased?” Ivelisse asked, sitting beside me on the park bench. A soft vanilla scent surrounded her.

  “You smell good.” I leaned closer to her. “Who told you about what happened?”

  “I stole my mom’s body spray,” she said, waving her arm in front of me to get another whiff. “Andre was out on his back porch eating breakfast, so I went over and sat with him.”

  I pointed to the small welts on my leg.

  “It only itches a little, not as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

  “My cousin had it once, and it was on her scalp. Gross.”

  “Did Andre also tell you about Miss Porsche?”

  Ivelisse started laughing. “Yes. How embarrassing.”

  I stopped laughing when I saw Veronica heading toward us.

  “Have you girls seen Twinkles running around out here?” she asked.

  “No, she’s not been through here. Did she get past the fence somehow?” Ivelisse asked.

  Veronica ruffled her hair and sighed. “Yeah. She took off after some cats. Have you noticed a lot more cats running around? I may check with the Istvan family. Maybe they’re some of their cats.”

  “My mom said she saw a bunch of them over in Mr. Maxwell’s yard one night.”

  Veronica looked uneasy at the mention of Mr. Maxwell’s name. I couldn’t let this opportunity pass.

  “Mr. Maxwell seems to get along well with Mr. Keith, huh?” I asked, glancing at Ivelisse.

  “There’s something strange about Mr. Maxwell.” Veronica grimaced. “He just gives me the creeps when he’s around. Keith thinks I’m imagining stuff.”

  “Well, speak of the devil,” Ivelisse said, and nodded her head toward the bike trail.

  It was Mr. Maxwell, on a bike, headed in our direction.

  “I’ll see you kids later,” Veronica said, taking quick strides home.

  Ivelisse spoke first to Mr. Maxwell, who was about to catch up with Veronica. “Hello, Mr. Maxwell.” She stood up in his path, causing him to slow and swirl to a stop.

  Mr. Maxwell huffed and nodded toward us, but he kept his eye on Veronica. “You kids still going around harassing law-abiding, tax-paying citizens of this fine community?”

  He didn’t wait for a response but continued in his pursuit. We watched as he caught up with Veronica. What could he be saying to her?

  “What’s keeping Chu?” I wondered.

  Ivelisse shrugged. “Who knows. Let’s head over to his house.”

  I walked a few paces in front of Ivelisse. “Is the rash real noticeable?”

  She paused, then tilted her head. “Turn so the sun shines on it.”

  I turned around.

  She shook her head. “Nah, not too much. Are you starting to itch?”

  “Nah.”

  A buzzing sound came from behind us, then grew louder. At first, I thought it was Mr. Maxwell coming back through to torment us, but it was Andre rolling up on his bike. He was dressed in Sean John gear from head to foot, a navy blue warm-up with matching baseball hat. The boy was too cute.

  “Where ya headed?” Andre asked, flashing his dimple.

  Forget Porsche. I was so going to be the future Mrs. Jackson.

  “We’re going to find Chu,” Ivelisse answered.

  Andre tugged his baseball hat farther down across his forehead. “I saw him earlier when I went to see Porsche. He was headed over to Farkas’s house.” He nudged me with his elbow. “So, did you wake up itching this morning?”

  He laughed as he put his arm around me.

  I almost choked on my tongue. “Uh, not too much.”

  He was touching me! OMG.

  He playfully palmed my head like a basketball. “Cool.”

  We rounded the alley toward Chu’s house and spotted him down near my backyard talking to Kiara and Farkas. They greeted Andre, who surprisingly continued to walk with us.

  “Guess who’s back?” Kiara said, pointing next door. “Mrs. Maxwell.”

  �
�Really?” Ivelisse said.

  We heard a door slam at the Maxwell house and muffled angry voices coming from their garage.

  “Kim, don’t you start with that again,” Mr. Maxwell said.

  “You stubborn ol’ ox. You’ve got to listen to someone,” Mrs. Maxwell replied.

  Chu pranced around. “Uh, oh. It’s drama time!”

  Andre moved closer toward the wall. I was on him like white on rice. The rest followed.

  “Sounds like something’s about to go down,” he whispered to me.

  His breath was warm against the side of my face and smelled like orange juice. At that very moment, I wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

  Farkas stood behind me, his voice heavy and wheezy. “I can’t hear. What are they saying?”

  “Shhh,” Ivelisse said as she scrunched down beside me. Kiara was right beside her, and Chu took up the rear. So much for my time with Andre.

  “You’ve got to stop this madness,” Mrs. Maxwell pleaded.

  They’d moved out from the garage into the driveway, giving us full view of them. Mrs. Maxwell abruptly went back into the garage. We heard a door open and close. Twinkles came running out of the garage and made a beeline toward his house. Ivelisse hit me on the leg.

  “That’s Veronica’s dog,” I whispered to Andre.

  “For real?” he said, staring intently at the Maxwells.

  “Do you honestly think you can stop me?” Mr. Maxwell said, moving toward a visibly shaken Mrs. Maxwell, who’d taken several steps back. “Do you?”

  Mr. Maxwell stopped when he noticed us watching.

  “S’up?” Andre said to Mr. Maxwell.

  Mrs. Maxwell quietly motioned for us to leave.

  Mr. Maxwell never replied, only watched us walk away. Mrs. Maxwell hung her head.

  “So, what’s up with your boy?” Andre asked as he leaned his bike against the fence to Chu’s backyard.

  “Besides being a total nutcase?” Farkas said, sitting on the stoop. “Chu, did your grandma cook anything for lunch?”

  Chu got up and went inside.

  “Mr. Maxwell’s wife has been gone for few days,” I said. “And we’re not sure where she’s been. Or what that conversation was about.”

  Andre played with the rim of his hat. “Ol’ dude is definitely shady.”

  Chu returned with his arms loaded with jars of peanut butter, jelly, bananas, and a loaf of bread, laying them on the patio table. “Bon appetit! I’ll go snag us some drinks.”

  The back gate opened. A beautiful woman with insanely high cheekbones and a long, powerful stride marched toward us.

  “Who’s that?” Ivelisse asked.

  Everyone turned to look. Whoever it was didn’t look happy.

  Chapter 18

  “HELLO, MRS. REMINGTON,” Andre said.

  Mrs. Remington didn’t speak right away. In fact, she never acknowledged Andre’s greeting.

  “Hi,” Kiara said.

  Mrs. Remington scanned the patio area. “Where’s Porsche?” she demanded. “Where is my child?”

  I hated her already, and from the way she looked at us, she hated us too. Although she was a gorgeous woman, she had the look of someone who had a story to tell. Like those women on the real-life stories shows. Someone who’d been raised in the ’hood, no money, had to parent her siblings, fight ten gang members at one time, and had to dodge bullets everywhere she went.

  Chu returned to the patio with the sodas, but none of us moved. I was afraid to say anything, as if knowing that any answer would be wrong.

  “We went for a bike ride earlier, but I’ve not seen her since then,” Andre said.

  Mrs. Remington huffed and rolled her eyes. “Bike ride?” she spat, as if this was some unimaginable thing. “She needs to have her butt at home, rehearsing.”

  Mrs. Remington enunciated each word that came out of her mouth. I bet she was a wannabe actress. Andre opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. Chu slowly moved around and passed out the drinks, keeping his eye on Mrs. Remington like someone watching a movie, afraid to miss anything.

  Mrs. Remington continued her rant. “After that sorry excuse of a performance she gave the other night, you’d think she’d have enough brains to want to improve herself.” She crossed her arms and huffed again. “If she comes through here, tell her I said to come home. Now!”

  She turned on her heels and left as abruptly as she’d come in.

  Chu breathed out loudly. “Holy high octane, Batman.”

  Ivelisse and Kiara looked at me.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Porsche’s mom,” Andre answered.

  “Dude, I can’t believe that’s Porsche’s mother,” Farkas said to Andre.

  Andre took a sip of his drink and tugged his hat down farther on his head. “That woman has some serious issues. She’s always yelling at Porsche about something, then Porsche runs off, crying.” Andre stood up and brushed off the back of his pants. “I’m going to see if I can find her.”

  I watched Andre hop on his bike and pedal away until he disappeared down the alley. I suddenly understood what Porsche was talking about at the Berry Farm. I hoped he found her before the Wicked Witch of the West did.

  Later, Mrs. Willene and Grandma Thuy returned home. Mrs. Willene greeted us through the kitchen window.

  Grandma Thuy came out on the patio, dressed in her usual two-piece, brightly colored tunic. She puffed her cigarette. “It appears that your friend, Mr. Maxwell, has invited us to a Fourth of July celebration tomorrow at his house. I assume you were all invited.”

  She tilted her head back before releasing the smoke, further damaging the ozone. I wished she was here when Mrs. Remington showed up. It could’ve been a showdown—Dragon Lady versus The Two-Headed Witch. My money was definitely on Grandma Thuy.

  We all nodded. Mom had told me about the invite a few days ago. I wasn’t sure why Mr. Maxwell was having a private Fourth celebration at his house, because the community sponsored a celebration each year in the park.

  Grandma Thuy continued, “My daughter tells me he’s going to have a special surprise for everyone.” She raised her eyebrow and looked off into the distance. “This will be interesting, indeed.” She exhaled more smoke and shuffled slowly back into the house.

  “Oh, hey, guys, my mom said I could have my sleepover on the Fourth since it’s going to be on a Friday,” Ivelisse said.

  “Cool. If Maxwell’s party turns out stupid, we’ll have fun at your house,” Kiara said.

  Farkas grumbled something under his breath. “Chu, see if you can stay over at my house.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Chu nodded.

  Kiara and I headed back home. As we walked in the back door, we heard voices coming from the living room. It was Mom and Mrs. Sanchez.

  “I’m telling you there’s something wrong with her,” Mrs. Sanchez said.

  Mom laughed. “Tina, girl, you’re crazy.”

  Mrs. Sanchez continued, “You know Keith has been saying that Veronica’s been unstable lately. I mean, she was going on and on about the Grim Reaper trying to kill her.”

  “She’s still talking about the Reaper?”

  Mrs. Sanchez nodded. “Maybe we should take her away on an all-girls weekend or something and find out what’s really bothering her.”

  When they noticed us, they stopped talking. Their expressions were guilty, like two teens caught gossiping about boys.

  Mrs. Sanchez winked at us as she rose. “All right. I’ll call you later.”

  Mom walked her to the front door, and as soon as the door shut, Kiara and I started up.

  “What did Veronica say about a Grim Reaper?” Kiara asked.

  “What else were you guys talking about?” I asked.

  Mom smirked at us. “Grown folks business, nosy posies.”

  I could see I’d have to resort to snooping when those two were together.

  A glob of toothpaste landed on the side of the sink.

  “Y
ou’re so gross,” I said, watching Kiara brush and rinse from my side of the bathroom counter.

  “I’m going to clean it up, doofus.”

  Comparing my side of the bathroom to Kiara’s, I highly doubted she would. I was pretty obnoxious when it came to neatness. Everything had its place and must be angled in the correct position. If I splattered something on the mirror, I cleaned it up immediately. I insisted that my faucet shine at all times. Kiara said I had OCD.

  After I cleaned up the bathroom, I joined Kiara in the loft area.

  “Wanna watch a movie?” Kiara asked from the couch as she flipped through the channels.

  We were both sprawled on opposite ends of the couch, nestling down for the evening. I loved our loft area. Mom rarely came upstairs, unless we had visitors in the guest bedroom. Even then, it was only to make sure Kiara didn’t leave everything looking like a condemned disaster area. Other than that, we had free rein on the second level.

  “Yeah. Let’s see what’s playing on the horror channel,” I said as I slumped farther down against the pillows.

  “Uh, no way,” Kiara answered.

  “Chicken butt, scaredy cat…”

  Kiara ignored me and flipped it over to TeenNick. We sat and watched a repeat episode of Degrassi High.

  Strange sounds came from the backyard. Kiara jumped up to look out of the window, and to nobody’s surprise, our dear friend Mr. Maxwell was rambling about once again. Movers were taking large bags made of fabric into the house.

  “Are those bags of potatoes?” Kiara whispered.

  I nodded. “Looks like it. But what in the world would he want with potatoes?”

  Mr. Maxwell opened the passenger-side door of the truck and removed two smaller sacks. That was when everything got weird. Several cats came out of nowhere and began attacking him, trying to get to the bags. Mr. Maxwell kicked and swatted to get them to leave, but they were determined to get to him.

  One of the movers pulled away two of the cats who were wrapped around Mr. Maxwell’s leg. Another mover grabbed the water hose and sprayed them. I musta counted ten cats, but it was dark, so there could’ve been more. Most of the cats retreated. The rest sat on the fence, watching Mr. Maxwell from a distance, as Kiara and I watched from upstairs.

 

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