by Tara Kelly
“Drea here?”
“Never heard of her.” He went to slam the door, but Naomi shoved him.
“Let him in—it’s just Drea’s boyfriend.”
“But he’s not—” I began.
Naomi put a hand over my mouth and looked back at Scott. “He’s cool, okay?”
Scott opened the door, studying Justin from head to toe. Justin walked in with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He stared back at Scott before turning to us and smiling. The Björk shirt he wore almost made me smile back. I loved Björk. But I didn’t love this situation.
“Drea has a boyfriend, apparently.” Scott walked back into the kitchen. “And he likes Ba-jork.”
“My little sister loves her,” Frizz said.
All three guys looked at Justin and snickered.
Justin rolled his eyes and nodded at the door. “Can we get out of here?”
“Yes, please,” I said, grabbing Naomi’s hand.
“Give me a minute, okay?” She looked back into the kitchen.
“How much for an eighth?” Beanie asked.
“Eighty,” Scott answered.
Beanie Guy shook his head. “I’ll give you fifty.”
“It’s weed, not used cars. Take it or leave it.”
Frizz joined them, and they continued to argue. Eventually, Scott went into his room and came out with a baggy. Naomi leaned against the couch, tapping the heel of her boot against the carpet.
Justin slipped his arm around my shoulders. I stiffened with his touch.
He pulled his arm away. “Sorry. You okay?”
I shook my head and leaned into him. His warmth felt amazing. He wrapped both arms around me, running his hands down my forearms. Naomi crinkled her brow at us, her mouth turning down at the corners. I wished I knew what she was thinking.
“Why don’t you call him later, Naomi?” Justin asked.
“No, he needs to know.” She dug her nails into the back of the couch. “He needs to know he can’t just treat me like I’m nothing.”
Justin lowered his voice. “The guy’s a dealer. Were you expecting love poems and walks on the beach?”
Naomi clenched her jaw again. “Just go. I’ll be fine.”
I looked at her twitching face and hands. In that moment, she looked like a scared child. “I’m not leaving you here alone,” I said.
Beanie and Frizz headed for the door, telling Scott it better not be crap like last time. Scott assured them it wasn’t and escorted them out.
He looked at Justin after he shut the door. “You buyin’ something?”
Justin pulled back from me and leaned against the couch. “No—just waiting on Naomi.”
“Then get out. She’s crashing here.”
“I want you to apologize,” Naomi said.
“For what?” Scott asked.
Justin stood up. “This isn’t going anywhere.” He put a hand on Naomi’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
Naomi moved away. “Back off, Justin.”
Scott walked closer to him, but Justin didn’t move back. For a second they looked like they might kiss.
Justin looked down at Scott’s clenched fists. “Maybe you should stay out of your own stash.”
Scott shoved him into the couch. “Get the fuck out.”
Justin straightened and held his hands up.
Naomi tugged at Scott’s elbow, pulling him away. They moved into the bedroom and left the door open. She talked in a loud whisper, but I couldn’t make out most of the words.
“Because you’re up my ass twenty-four seven,” Scott said.
“Scott, I need you. Scott, come over. Were you checking her out?”
“First you tell Roger you want to hook up with Drea.” Naomi’s voice cracked. “You told me it was a joke—fine, whatever. Then I hear about Kelly.”
“And? We weren’t together.”
They continued to fling words back and forth, voices rising and falling. And then they fell into low whispers.
Justin leaned back against the couch and shut his eyes. His fingers tapped sharply against his jeans. “We can’t make her go.” He brushed his other hand against mine.
That’s when we heard a crash against the bedroom wall. Naomi screamed. We ran around the couch and into the bedroom in time to see Scott slug her. His knuckles made a loud, popping sound when they hit her jaw, and he shoved her to the ground.
“You pushed it too far.” Scott jabbed a finger at her. “Too far!”
Justin lurched at Scott and twisted his arms behind his back. He shoved Scott against the wall, struggling to keep him contained. “Get her out of here, Drea!”
I helped Naomi off the floor. Her lip was cut and her face was stained with tears.
Scott pulled out of Justin’s grip and sent a fist into his face. Justin punched Scott’s nose and rib cage, his features contorting into a mess I didn’t even recognize. The sound of cracking knuckles and struggling feet echoed in my head. Naomi yelled for them to stop. I dropped my lunch box and covered my ears, taking fast breaths.
Scott protected his bloody nose with one hand and kicked Justin in the gut. Justin winced and clutched his stomach. But Scott raised his fist again. He wasn’t going to let up.
I ran at Scott. Mom always said if a guy attacked me, go for the balls. I brought up my foot and kicked him twice, as hard as I could. I just wanted it to stop. It had to stop.
Scott hunched over and screamed a bunch of stuff that blurred together. Justin moved between us and spread his arms wide, shielding me. The room became silent, except for heavy breaths. Sirens wailed in the distance, barely audible over the ringing in my ears.
Scott cursed and scrambled over to his bedroom window.
“I gotta get out of here,” Justin said, heading for the door.
I grabbed my lunch box and ran after him. I thought Naomi was behind me, but I wasn’t sure. The world was nothing but a throbbing pulse in my ears and the impact of my footsteps on the pavement. It felt like a dream. Like nothing was real. All I knew was I didn’t want to stay there.
We piled into Justin’s car, and he took off with the same vigor Scott had during the race. I could see flashing blue and red lights several blocks down the street. The sirens were loud enough to be heard over his music. It was even a song I liked. And then I started laughing. Couldn’t stop.
“Are you laughing?” Naomi asked from the back seat.
Justin shifted with a jerk and tore around a corner. He backed the BMW between two cars on a nearby residential street and cut the engine.
“What are you doing?” Naomi asked him.
“Didn’t want to risk passing them.”
“How do you know they’re even going to Scott’s?” Naomi asked. “I hear sirens all the time over here.”
“Did you want to stick around and find out?” he asked.
I continued to laugh—even though I felt anything but happy. My entire body shook, sweat covered my back, and my temples were throbbing.
“Well, Drea’s amused,” Naomi said.
“I think it’s her way of dealing,” Justin said, looking over his shoulder. A police car screamed by on the main street.
“I’m sorry. I can’t stop.” The words came out in short bursts of breath. I rocked myself, focusing on long, deep breathing through my nose. Back and forth, in and out. A doctor told me to do that once.
Justin reached over and stroked my hair. “It’s okay—you’re just in shock.”
“Laughter is a lot better than tears.” Naomi poked the back of Justin’s head. “Why are you so afraid of cops?”
His jaw tensed. “Besides the potential assault charge and being in a dealer’s apartment?”
“You were defending me—I would’ve told them the truth. And Scott doesn’t usually deal out of his apartment, unless his friends want something small. So he never keeps much there. He probably just flushed anything he had left.”
“You don’t have a lot of experience with the cops, do you?” Justin
squinted at her in the rearview mirror. “I could tell you were tweaking as soon as I walked in the door.” His voice sounded different to me. Rougher, angry even.
I wanted to ask them what tweaking meant exactly, but I could guess. The rabid look in Naomi’s eyes was hard to miss. I’d spent my entire life fighting to be normal. An array of medication every morning, every six hours, every evening—a prisoner of rashes, headaches, drowsiness, and other fun side effects. All so I could be who everyone else wanted me to be. Nobody ever gave me a choice. But Naomi had a choice, and she didn’t even seem to care.
“Where did you learn to throw punches like that?” Naomi asked.
Justin shrugged, but he gripped the steering wheel harder. I studied their shadowy faces. They were like two strangers to me.
Naomi glanced down at her nails. “I hope they arrest him.”
“Me too,” I said.
She looked up at me and smiled, but I sank into my seat. It wouldn’t be that easy for her this time.
Justin started the car and put a hand on his stomach, wincing. “Let’s hope for the best.”
We pulled up in front of Naomi’s house ten minutes later. Justin didn’t speak or look at us the entire way back. He’d tensed up every time headlights approached from behind.
“Home, sweet home,” Naomi said, shoving my seat forward and squeezing out. “Thanks… Justin.”
He nodded and waved, but kept his eyes forward.
I stared at his profile for a few seconds. His cheek was like marble under the dim streetlights. I swallowed, wincing at my dry throat. “You want to give me a driving lesson tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so, Drea.”
“Why n—”
“I need to go,” he said.
I waited for him to say he didn’t mean right now. Like he did when he drove me home the first time.
“Drea, please just go.” He looked at me, but I couldn’t see his expression. Shadows hovered around his eyes and mouth. “And trust your instincts next time.”
The pizza I’d eaten earlier crept up my esophagus. There was something in his words that made me think I’d never see him again.
I climbed out of the car, and he sped off after I shut the door. No second thoughts. His taillights disappeared into the early morning fog.
M onday, September 17
Something has been caught in my throat all day. Heavy. Impossible to dislodge. Naomi left five messages on my cell phone yesterday. I pressed 7 as soon as I heard her voice. Delete. I don’t know what to say to her. I told her I wanted to go home, and she didn’t care. But I cared enough to stay and wait for her. So did Justin. Now he hates us both. He won’t answer his phone or return my calls. He’s not even at school today. I’ve never felt like this before. So empty.
Grandma woke me up on the couch yesterday. She tried to get me to repaint the walls and even threatened to kick us out. I couldn’t take it anymore. I asked her why. Why couldn’t I have one thing that makes me feel at home? It’s just a color. But it means the world to me. So we worked out a trade. I keep my walls green, and I have to help her set up a garage sale this weekend.
“I’m sorry.” A backpack slammed onto the table. Naomi hovered above me—in the library of all places.
I flipped my journal shut. Sorry wasn’t enough.
“I’m done, Drea,” she said, yanking out a blue plastic chair and sitting down. “No more Scott. No more partying.”
She sounded like she meant it. But it would be like me saying “no more music.” It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t know if I believe you.”
“I know I really screwed up this weekend, because I’m stupid.” She rested her chin in her hand, covering a yellowing bruise. Her face looked pale and worn. “But he crossed the line. I’m done.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“You’re the only person who gives a shit. The only one I trust.” Her eyes were large and red rimmed. “Please tell me it’s not too late. Tell me there is something I can do.”
I stared back at her for a long time, my lips glued together. She had offered her friendship to me. No questions asked. And I’d lied to her. I wanted to tell her the truth. To start over—reintroduce myself. Hi, I’m Drea. World-class dork. I’m not cool. I’m not even normal. Do you still want to hang out with me? And she could’ve done the same, told me she didn’t have anyone either. If we’d both admitted how alone we were, maybe everything would’ve been different.
But I couldn’t form the words. She trusted me. Nobody had ever said that to me before. Not even my mom. “No more stealing?” I asked finally.
She let out a shaky breath. “No more. I want to focus on music. We rock together, Drea. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Me neither.” I tried to smile, but I didn’t know if it translated to my lips. “Do you know if Scott got arrested?”
“Roger told me it was the old bag upstairs who called the cops, and she calls them, like, nine times a month for stupid shit. Like, one time she thought a stray-cat fight was a kid screaming for help. Anyway, Scott told them he tripped and smacked his nose on the coffee table playing Wii. And they apparently bought it. But who knows.”
“Promise me you won’t see him again?”
Naomi smiled and looped my pinkie with hers. “I won’t even mention his name.”
I wanted to believe her, but an ache in my stomach warned me against it. Still, I didn’t want to lose the first friend I’d made in years or our music. “We decided on M3 for the band. I think I forgot to tell you.”
“I like it—a lot, actually. Where’s Justin?”’
I dug my pen into my notebook, scratching a tiny star in the corner. “He didn’t show up today. I think he hates me.”
“I don’t think that’s it, babe. People don’t run from the cops unless they have something to hide. I told you he seemed a little too nice.”
“He told us why.” My chest felt tight again. I didn’t want Justin to be one of the bad guys, but I couldn’t get his contorted features out of my head.
“Do you know where he lives? Maybe we can drop by after school,” she said.
I shook my head. “I need to find him, Naomi. I need to know.…”
She put her hand over mine. “It’ll be okay. He can’t skip school forever. You’ll get another chance.”
That wasn’t good enough for me. I went to the bathroom before class and left my mom a voice mail, telling her I was going out with Naomi and I’d be home late.
I had an appointment with Jackie during PE. I wished I had the ability to hide my emotions.
“You look troubled today, Drea. Rough weekend?”
I shrugged, trying to stop my knee from jiggling.
“SweeTart?”
I nodded, and she tossed a couple of packs to me.
“How do you know if someone is telling the truth?” I asked, letting the candy sizzle on my tongue.
Jackie’s dark eyes drifted to the ceiling. “That’s a tough question.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’d say the best proof is when their actions back up their words.”
“What if they tell you they aren’t going to do something, and it seems like they really mean it, but your stomach tells you they don’t?”
“I think you’re talking about instinct. Has this person lied before or gone back on a promise?”
“Not exactly. You know how people smile even when they aren’t happy? Like salesclerks?”
Jackie chuckled. “Yes, it’s kind of a silly idea, isn’t it? Smile wide and maybe people will buy more.”
“It annoys me. They don’t even know me, so how could they possibly care how my day was?”
“I’m with you there. We’ll ask if we want something, right?”
I nodded.
“Problem is, people don’t always say what they want,” she said. “Maybe they’re too afraid to ask. Or sometimes they simply don’t know. If you had to guess, what would you say your friend wants?”
“Love. She wants someone to care about her.” I sucked in my breath. Stupid me. She’d be able to figure out who I was talking about.
“Don’t worry, Drea. Everything you tell me is confidential unless you tell me this person poses a danger to herself or others.”
Well, she had an ex who’d harmed her, but I’d learned early on that being a tattletale wasn’t cool. Dustin Jenkins threw rocks at me for a week after I’d told the teacher he’d peed his pants. Not to mention numerous other incidents that resulted when I opened my mouth. “Okay,” I said.
“I think the best thing you can do is watch out for her. If you get that ache in your stomach, ask her how she’s feeling. Tell her that you’re there for her. And really, that’s all you can do. It’s up to her to ask you if she needs help.” She went on to tell me that I could always talk to her or a trusted adult if the situation got out of hand. But I’d already tuned her out because “out of hand” was subjective, and I had no idea where to draw the line.
We piled into Roger’s car after school. Naomi immediately ejected his CD and put in the mixed one I’d made her. Snow Patrol’s “Somewhere a Clock Is Ticking” filled the stuffy car with a soft guitar melody.
“Aw, come on. Do we have to listen to this foofee stuff?” Roger asked, glancing longingly at the death metal CD Naomi had stuck in his binder.
“Deal with it.” Naomi plopped her feet on the dash.
“Do you know where Lake Padden is?” I asked them.
“No, I’ve only lived here my entire life.” Roger rolled his eyes.
“Can you take me there?”
Naomi turned around, frowning. “Why?”
“Justin told me he likes to go there a lot.”
Roger merged onto I-5 south. “Scott is looking to pound that guy.”
“You better keep your mouth shut, then,” Naomi said.
“Hey, he hit you. I’d kick his ass myself if I wasn’t sure I’d lose. That guy benches at least three fifty.”
“Uh, yeah. Slight exaggeration there, Roger.” Naomi chuckled. “Besides, little Miss Kung Fu back there kicked him in the balls. Twice.”
I stared out the window. That was a moment I wanted to forget.
