“I guess,” I say, then laugh. Ashley’s full of crazy ideas.
As we wait for her parents to summon us, we sit in the basement talking about our summer plans. Ashley has lots, although most have been designed by her parents, like her weekly piano lessons. I have no plans other than to avoid my house as much as possible. Both of us will go to a book club at the Flint Public Library. We met at the Carmen school library, where I worked at the start of our freshman year. She was looking for a book, while I was looking for new friends. Most of the Circle Pines crew were making the transition from junior-high binge drinkers to serious high-school stoners. My main junior-high friend Kate and I blew up the year before, so the stars were aligned when I met Ashley that first week.
I hear the door open at the top of the stairs; the sound coincides with an Ashley sigh. Ashley can sigh and roll her eyes better than any parent. She uses those moves at school for the most stupid teachers, but reserves the best for home, in particular whenever her mom talks.
“Hot chocolate’s ready!” Ashley’s mom exclaims. I can’t picture Ashley’s mom yelling; I can’t imagine a day in my house where my mom doesn’t scream at me.
“Can you bring it down? We’re comfy,” Ashley says, throwing a blanket over our feet.
“Let me know when you girls are ready to come upstairs,” Ashley’s mom says as she hands us the drinks.
Ashley just rolls her eyes, then mouths the words “game night.” At my house, it’s fight night. Maybe boredom is the price you pay for peace.
“They’re nice people, but so dull,” Ashley says, then rolls her eyes again.
“You’re so lucky.”
“And you’re so wrong,” she snaps back.
“I just wish you could walk a week in my Chucks with Mom, Carl, and their bullshit,” I say, trying to hold back tears. Truth is, Ashley wouldn’t last a day in my shoes; she’d sprint home and hug her mother so tight she’d probably suffocate her. “It’s getting so bad.”
“What’s wrong?” Ashley asks, and I finally tell her. I’ve hinted to Ashley before about some of the stuff going on at home but never told her much. Like kids with their MySpace accounts, I’ve been living two lives: the one most people see at school as this normal boring kid and the other at home with the shouting, drinking, and now hitting. Telling Ashley everything feels like I’m infecting her. I’m Danielle the Disease Carrier. As I start telling her about Carl hitting my mom, I’m thinking to myself about why I’d called 911. A year or so ago when Mitch lived with us, I never thought of calling the police when he slapped Mom. I didn’t get smarter, braver, or even wiser in the past year, I’m just getting angrier: at Mom, at the Dad wannabes, and mostly at myself. I used to be afraid of what might happen. Now I’m just mad.
By the time I finish recounting the events of the evening, I’m in tears. I think Ashley wants to sob too, but can’t or won’t. After two years of friendship, I’ve yet to see her cry. Instead, she’ll just stare off with this faraway look in her eyes, almost as if she’s in a trance. Her jaw gets tight and her wide, innocent brown eyes look so much older.
“You did the right thing,” she says after I finally calm down. “You love your mom, right?”
“Of course I do,” I reply. Ashley knows no matter what I say, that’s how I really feel.
“You tell her that?”
“Probably not enough,” I admit.
Ashley sighs. “Well, you could tell her a million times, but what matters is showing her.”
“Showing her?”
“Like to night, you protected her,” she says. “That’s what love is really all about.”
“How did you get so wise?” I ask Ashley, only half joking. Ashley likes to talk in absolutes and clichés, like she’s a wizard in a fantasy book. But I don’t think Ashley’s ever been in love, and I’ve never confessed to her about when I was thirteen and fell in love with Reid.
I start looking through her DVDs. I need to get pulled into a fantasy world and away from these long-hidden thoughts of Reid. I haven’t loved anybody since him. Sure, I’ve kissed other boys at dances and all that stupid high-school stuff, but they only pretended to like me. I’m sure they like two things about me, and they aren’t my heart and my soul.
Ashley chooses a movie about another hero on a quest, but the treasure I seek this summer is different. I’m trying to discover how you can fall in love when you’ve failed in the past and you don’t have any people in your life to show you what love really looks like.
2
SATURDAY, JUNE 14
“It’s her best book ever, don’t you think?” Ashley asks me in front of the book club at the library. She’s pointing the new Tamora Pierce book at my yawning face like a sword. We’d stayed up late last night watching DVDs. Truth is, I can’t help but think about fighting my everyday dragons rather than mythical fire-breathing beasts in books and movies.
“I guess,” I mumble through the cookie in my mouth. As others voice their opinion, I feel embarrassed, not just for trying to talk with my mouth full, but for not backing up Ashley. When we first started book club, I barely spoke unless Ashley or Mrs. Acevedo asked me a question. I wasn’t like them; I hadn’t read every book in the world. Ashley’s life is as simple as mine’s complicated. She goes to school and gets good if not great grades; she goes home, reads, and does stuff with her parents. She goes to ballet, piano, and other classes, and one day she’ll go to a good college, marry a fine man, and have a great life. She gets her kicks by escaping into imaginary empires, but to me, her perfect house and family already seem like a fantasy.
As Ashley and the others talk about the book, it’s hard for me to focus. What good is talking about a magical kingdom ruled by strong women when my mom’s getting slapped in the face? I start to wonder about the other kids in the club and the secret lives they lead. Like Lauren, this gorgeous girl from Central. She’s got perfect skin, short blond hair, and beautiful blue eyes. She comes to book club with two friends, both beautiful as well, although Lauren’s the fairest of them all. They’re best friends, so they have a code between them. I tried hanging with them last summer, when Ashley went on a mid-July vacation with her parents to New York City, but I didn’t click. It was like I was in a band with them, but always a beat off. Next to their brains and beauty, I felt like a slow and ugly stepsister, especially when they all talked on and on about their cool boyfriends.
Lauren always reminds me of Reid’s sister, Kate. Kate and I were BFFs in junior high, but that seems so long ago. I couldn’t be friends with her now, but not just because of Reid. It’s because she’s everything I’m not. She’s stylish, tanned, and perfectly proportioned; I’m pale, clumsy, and lumpy. Her makeup is always right and her clothes look painted on, while no matter how I try, I always look sloppy. But it’s more than her looks; it’s her confidence. Kate knows she’s always going to get the guy; I know I’m not. That’s a lesson I learned from her in eighth grade. Because she’s confident, she almost glows; because I’m not, boys must smell the sweat of my desperation. Mom gets mad when I say things aren’t fair. I should remind her of Kate, and that’d shut her up.
“Hey, Danny, we gotta catch the bus,” I hear Ashley say, tapping me on my shoulder. I’d totally tuned out the discussion. I promise myself next time I’ll read the book.
I briefly rejoin the conversation, which involves how we’re all going to get together outside of book club, but we never do. Ashley and I say our goodbyes, then head to wait for the bus to the mall. I’m thinking about visiting Evan, who works there and invited me to lunch.
By Halloween, I won’t be on my bike or buses like this any longer. Once I can drive, my life is going to be so different and so much better than it is now. It won’t be like all those mornings last year when Mom and I would pull into school in her lame, rusted Malibu, while a bunch of seniors roared past us laughing even louder than the music pouring out of their Escalade. Somehow, I’ll get myself in that other car, the cool car; I won’t be trapped in that Malibu
anymore.
• • •
“You want some fries?” Evan asks, dangling the tempting salt stick in front of me.
“No, thanks,” I reply softly, like I don’t want to be heard over the low roar of the mall’s food court. I’m hungry, but hate eating in front of any boy.
“Thanks for stopping by. It’s nice to have a chance to ketchup,” he says as he dips one of his fries into a small white container of Heinz. I roll my eyes, although nowhere near as dramatically as Ashley, as Evan punishes me with puns. “I relish this chance to see you.”
“Whatever.”
“Lettuce talk about it.” Evan’s trying to keep a straight face. “I’m in a pickle to find a bathroom because I must—”
“I talked to your brother,” I announce to end Evan’s unfunny pun fest.
Evan wipes the sweat from his brow. Like me, Evan’s carrying more pounds than he should. Add that to the heavy red Halo Burger uniform he wears while working over a hot grill, and it’s no wonder he’s sweating. “That’s a bad idea,” he says. I wait for a smirk or smart-ass remark, but instead he just fiddles with the ugly hat that covers his cute curly brown hair.
“What’s Vic’s story?” I ask.
“It’s a short story,” he says. “He’s Poe; he ain’t got no money. He’s a real Dumas.”
“Serious up, Evan.” I should also add “eyes up,” since Evan’s eyes tend to drift down.
“My brother Vic is a loser,” Evan says, then sighs. He bites into his burger. I try to ignore the speck of mustard clinging to his top lip.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
“He moved back home because he got evicted from another apartment,” Evan says. He sounds embarrassed; he’s blushing almost as much as the first time he asked me out. He also sounds sad, almost as sad as when I said no to that first request, and all subsequent ones. “Vic’s your typical stoner story: dropped out of school, got into some trouble with the law, out of work most of the time. He smokes weed and plays video games. He’s useless, but you’re lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“To not have brothers or sisters,” Evan says as he pushes his half-eaten burger aside.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a lot of pressure having a brother like Vic,” Evan replies, his smirk long gone. “Since he’s messed up his life, my parents are on me all the time to do better in school, to work harder. If Vic wanted to ruin his life, that’s fine, but he didn’t need to wreck mine as well.”
I pick up a napkin off Evan’s tray and wipe the mustard from his lip.
“Sorry to be such a downer,” Evan says. “Vic will do that. He’ll just bring you down.”
“Okay,” I say, then snatch a fry off Evan’s tray.
“Why are you talking to my brother anyway?” Evan asks, then cracks another smile. “Are you trying to learn what I’m really like? What I look like naked? Because I could—”
“No, thanks!” I can’t decide to laugh, smile, or gag at the thought of Evan naked. Mostly I wonder if he’s thought of me that way. “I called you last night and he answered the phone.”
“Vic lives in our basement,” Evan says, then grunts. “He’s more mushroom than man.”
“He doesn’t sound so bad,” I say.
“What do you mean?” he mumbles while sipping soda through a straw.
I try not to let Evan see my smile as I say, “He sounds like a real fungi.”
Evan spits soda out of his mouth, then starts laughing. He looks cuter when he laughs. He’s not bad-looking, but he’s not totally hot, either. Truth is, he’s a lot like me.
“There’s one good thing about having him around, though,” Evan adds.
“What’s that?” I ask, bracing myself for another joke.
“He’s like a role model on how not to live my life.” Evan gets all serious again. “I can ask myself every day about everything Vic would do, then do the opposite.”
I don’t say anything. I smile to cover for the brooding dark thoughts already overtaking me about my house, my mom, my life, and my choices. We sit silent for a while until Evan announces he’s got to get back to flipping Halo Burgers.
As I get up to leave, he leans over to kiss me. I turn my mouth away and he makes a wet spot on my cheek. I feel closer to him after this conversation, but I still don’t want him to kiss me. I guess I should be happy that he likes me, but as I watch him walk back to work, I fall back into my brooding, knowing that for Evan—and Evan alone—I am Danielle the Desirable.
• • •
“So how was Evan?” Ashley asks as I meet her outside the food court. She’s spent the time shopping for books. My limited allowance barely covers library fines, let alone new novels.
“Boring, as usual,” I say, not sure why I need to put Evan down, especially in front of Ashley. Ashley’s not a big Evan fan. She never says anything ugly about him, but she’s not very encouraging, either. I think Evan has mutual feelings of disinterested jealousy about Ashley.
“You ready to go get bathing-suited up?” Ashley asks.
“I guess,” I say, then take a deep breath. In about a month, Ashley will be coming with Mom and me and maybe Carl to my cousin Brittney’s wedding in Traverse City.
“So this hotel has a nice pool?” Ashley asks.
“I think so. There’s also a beach on Lake Michigan we can go to.”
“I’ve never been to a beach,” Ashley says.
“Never?” I reply. I’m flashing back to more memories of Dad. We’d often end our Corvette trips at one of the small beaches around one of Michigan’s many lakes, although the drive was as much fun as the actual destination.
“Do my ’rents look like people who go to the beach?” Ashley asks, then sighs. “They barely leave the house on nights or weekends. Maybe they’re reverse vampires.”
“No, my mom is a vampire,” I say. “You know why?”
Ashley starts to answer, but I beat her to the punch line.
“Because she’s sucking all the fun out of my life.”
“We’ll change that. We’ll have lots of fun in the sun!” Ashley says, pulling a wad of cash out of her expensive pre-torn jeans. Her parents definitely leave the house long enough to go to the bank, as Ashley’s never without money to spend. She’s told me she’s got enough to buy us both nice bathing suits, as opposed to the Kmart crap that my mom gave me money for.
“Thanks for doing this with me,” I say. Like Ashley’s mom, my mom wanted to come with us, but the days of Mom picking out my clothes are long gone. Her taste in clothes is as bad as her taste in men.
“I bet Evan would help you shop for a bathing suit,” Ashley says as we head toward Aeropostale.
“He’d rather help me shop for my birthday suit,” I remind her.
“Too true,” she says, then laughs.
Like most kids at school, Ashley dresses like everyone else and looks like no one in particular. If you fit in, then you don’t stand out: nobody notices normal. Trendy clothing stores scare me. I see those mannequins and freak out at how the world thinks I’m supposed to look.
We shop for over an hour and Ashley keeps window-shopping at every store. She drags me into some, but mostly I just hang out while she tries on different outfits. I don’t like to shop, since I don’t have any money to buy anything. It’s like going to a restaurant, staring at the menu, but not being able to order. It just makes me hungrier, but even hungry eyes are better than going home.
At Sears, Ashley suggests a few suits, but I don’t like any of them. Finally, I find a solid black one-piece, over which I’ll probably wear a too-big T-shirt to cover my too-big body parts.
“Are you sure?” Ashley asks, arching a skeptical eyebrow.
“Sure,” I say as she hands me cash to pay, then we leave the store and sit down on a bench. Like a mind reader, she can tell something’s wrong. She leans toward me, and I take the bait.
“Last summer, Mitch took us to the beach and I don’t think I’ve e
ver been more embarrassed. Mom was rolling around in the sand with Mitch half the time, which was bad enough, but when she wasn’t, she was parading around in her two-piece red bikini.”
“So?” Ashley’s never been to the Circle Pines pool or a beach with Mom. If she had been, she’d know.
“My mom’s legs, arms, and even her back are all tattooed, mostly roses and crosses.”
“Really?” Ashley says, showing interest rather than the disgust I feel.
“Ash, you know how you always say you’re embarrassed by how your parents act?” I ask. She nods, then sighs. “Well, for me, it’s not what my mom does, it’s more just who she is.”
“I bet she doesn’t embarrass you in public like the ’rents do,” Ashley says.
“All the time. When Carl and Mom aren’t arguing, they’re all about kissing in public.”
“Big mistake,” Ashley says. “How grotesque!”
I nod my head; I’m opposed to any public display of affection. But what I proclaim to be hate is really jealousy. What I hate most are the things I want but don’t have. It’s like there’s a party I can see through the window, but I can’t find the door to get inside.
“Thank God the ’rents don’t kiss in front of other people!” she adds.
“Evan just tried to kiss me in public,” I tell her, half-embarrassed and half-flattered.
“Not cool,” Ashley says. “No offense, but your puppy is kind of pathetic.”
“Evan? Why do you say that?”
“I mean he’s so in love with you. It’s almost embarrassing to be around,” she says. “Thank God you’re not like that about him, or anybody.”
I bite my bottom lip to have an excuse for my oncoming tears. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say, as my eyes dart to the right.
“It’s good you play Uno and not poker.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re lying,” she says. “You can lie to your mom, but you can’t lie to your friends.”
“I was like that once, before we met.” I start to confess a secret I should’ve told a long time ago.
Stolen Car Page 2
