Jaden's Chance

by Ashlynn Ally

  “And live here and answer to you?” I say, like the idea is beyond ridiculous. “No, thanks.”

  I go to get around him again, and this time he allows it—for about two-and-a-half seconds. Then it’s his voice that stops me again. “I think you need someone to answer to,” he projects, his tone firm and a bit louder than before. “I think you think you need someone to answer to as well. Face it, sweetie, you’re not doing so hot on your own. You never had anyone to show you what to do, right? I can show you. You stay here, and I’ll help you. I’ll set you on the right track.”

  The right track, with a train on it going in the opposite direction from the train I’m riding on now. And I realize I guess I could try it. If it doesn’t work out I could always leave. And in the meantime I suppose I’d get regular meals, a cozy bed to sleep in, showers. I mean really, what do I have to lose?

  Chapter Four

  The next day, I sleep in till noon. At first I wake up at my usual time: dawn. When the realization creeps over me that I don’t have to vacate my bush in the park, lying in bed all morning is the most glorious thing I’ve done since, oh, I don’t know—birth. Unfortunately, it’s ultimately interrupted by Justin tap-tap-tapping on the door.

  “Jaden, you alive in there? Come on, you better get a move on if you want to get to the high school in time to register for those GED classes.”

  “Go away,” I groan into my pillow. Truthfully, I’m a bit incredulous Justin doesn’t seem to realize I haven’t been able to sleep properly in months, and now he’s ruining it.

  “I’m not going away,” he says unreasonably. “The day’s wasting. We need to get you registered so you can get started on this.”

  “Tomorrow,” I holler, my voice muffled against the pillow. I’m in the pink room with the full-size canopy bed, and I’m not exactly thrilled with the idea of leaving it at all today.

  “Right now, young lady.” His voice is stern suddenly. “If you’re not out of that bed in five minutes, I’m coming in there and dragging you out, you got it?”

  “Fuck off!” I yell. Suddenly, this whole ‘get your GED and your life back on track’ idea doesn’t seem so hot after all, not if I’m going to be bossed around every minute of my life.

  I guess my five minutes must be up already, because the next thing I know Justin is barging into the room and pulling me out of the bed. This is a little embarrassing because I’m only wearing a t-shirt and some underwear, though there’s another small part of me that enjoys flaunting my body in front of him.

  “Get dressed, now,” he says, pointing me at the dresser. I filled it last night with my clothes after washing them for the first time in weeks, maybe even months, in the laundry room off the kitchen. “Pick something out, go to the bathroom, shower, put clothes on, and let’s go. I don’t know what you thought I meant when I said I would help you get your life straightened out, but if you were guessing let you sleep in till noon, you were way off.”

  “Get off me,” I grumble, pulling my arms free as I’m hustled up against the dresser. “I’m getting the shit, okay? Just leave me alone.”

  “I mean it, Jaden,” he says, still hovering over me like some kind of possessed drill sergeant. “You want to act like a spoiled child, I won’t hesitate to treat you like one. I ought to wash your mouth out with soap for dropping the f-bomb on me like that.”

  Even though I know it’s not supposed to, my heart catches in my throat when he says this. I try to pinpoint this strange mixture of embarrassment and tantalization, but I can’t place ever feeling this before. I don’t think I actually ever have.

  I turn to him then, hold up the clothes I’ve picked out, a skimpy tank top and a cotton skirt. Then I plaster a phony sweet smile on my face. “There, happy now? I’ve picked out my clothes. Now if you’ll so kindly vacate the area, I’ll change into them, and this whole little miscommunication can be forgotten.”

  I purposely ignore the remark about him washing my mouth out with soap, figuring he was just kidding anyway.

  After a battle over breakfast, in which I refuse to consume anything other than tea while Justin insists I need some eggs, we’re in the car heading to the high school.

  Registering for summer classes is long and boring. I let Justin do most of the talking while I shift uncomfortably in my hard metal chair in the guidance counselor’s office, playing with my hair and trying not to bite my fingernails. What I really need is a cigarette, but without ID I have no way to buy them, and I’m pretty sure Justin the health freak isn’t about to assist me in the habit.

  “I need to go to the bathroom,” I blurt out suddenly, in the middle of the class advisor droning on and on about something to do with credits. They both look at me a bit surprised before nodding acknowledgement and then finally, I’m escaping. God, I must have been in that office fifteen minutes already, and I’m a bit shocked I’m even making it out alive.

  Of course I don’t really need to go to the bathroom, but I’ve gone to high school before and I know there’s bound to be students here who smoke and I need to bum one, bad. I wander along the halls and outside to a paved area before I finally spot a couple of kids, one of them with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. It’s all I can do not to beg for an extra one.

  He offers me his pack nonchalantly and chill. It’s full so I take three, tuck one behind each ear and stick the other in my mouth. “I need a light, too,” I admit. He tosses me a zippo, and within a few moments the nicotine is blooming in my bloodstream like a flower. Finally, I feel like I can breathe again, like maybe I can even face the rest of the day with Justin barking orders in my ear.

  I wander about the school a bit until I find Justin out front, apparently annoyed again because he didn’t know where I was. At least I’ve smoked the whole cigarette by now, though I can only hope my hair covers up the two behind my ears. As I slip into the passenger’s seat of his car, I think better about keeping them there, and manage to stash them in the side pocket of the door while he’s not looking. I already know from the night of the party that he doesn’t like smoking, and after that little ‘fuck you’ incident, I’m not sure I want to find out what happens if he catches me with a cigarette in my mouth.

  “So, what do you think?” Justin is saying something about some kind of program the school offered. An accelerated high school diploma program or something, that would make me a high school graduate by the end of the summer—if only I apply myself. “You’ve got a pretty full course load but I think you can handle it. And you’ve got me to help you. Whatever you need, just ask. I do freelance editing for a living, so of course that would be my specialty. But I’m okay at math too, and history.”

  I’m staring out the window, the sky a blinding blue, exhausted already, wishing I were smoking another cigarette. “I thought I could just take like a night course or something and that would help me pass that GED test.”

  “This is better than passing the GED test,” Justin insists. “I mean, you didn’t even finish, what, ninth grade? They’re letting you make up three years of school in one summer, and then you graduate. That’s awesome, don’t you think?”

  I wonder if by, ‘whatever you need, just ask,’ he meant he would do all my work for me, maybe even impersonate me and take all my classes. Somehow, I don’t think so.

  “I almost finished ninth grade,” I clarify. “Then I got another placement and had to switch schools. The girls at my new school jumped me. Said I was looking at their boyfriends. Threatened to kill me if it happened again. You try going to school with death threats hanging over your head. I didn’t even know who their ugly ass boyfriends were anyway.”

  “Well, nothing like that is going to happen here. I went to PPH myself, you’ll do fine. Maybe you’ll even have some of my old teachers.”

  “Goody,” I say sarcastically. Justin gives me the side-eye, but doesn’t dignify my lack of enthusiasm with a response.

  Chapter Five

  So I guess Justin’s computer in fact works just
fine after all, considering I’ve been sitting on it for pretty much the entire afternoon surfing the web and playing online Parcheesi. Justin himself disappeared to a downstairs area he claimed to be his work-from-home office, but I think used to in fact just be the dining room.

  Just as the edges of the room start to blur and my perception between reality and the computer screen begins to fade, I realize I need a change of scenery and peel myself out of Justin’s desk chair. I’m still wearing the same skimpy skirt and tank from earlier, and it’s so hot my thighs almost adhered to the vinyl of the chair with sweat.

  I decide I need to get my ass down to the beach. No use living this close to the water if I’m not going to take advantage of it. I dig my bikini out of Jessica’s old dresser; all my clothes fit into a single drawer while her stuff took up all the others. Justin actually told me she probably didn’t want any of it anymore and gave me permission to have it. I already have plans for altering a bunch of it, but for now I just slip into my bathing suit and grab a towel from the bathroom.

  On my way downstairs I wonder if I should alert Justin that I’m leaving, but end up deciding he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. Besides, he isn’t my keeper or anything. I should be able to come and go as I please.

  As I step out onto the burning pavement, the smothering sunlight hits me full force, almost knocking the breath out of me and making every bone in my body feel like a hundred pounds. The beach is as packed as I expected it to be, everyone looking to find some relief from this last week of May heatstroke. I must spend a full couple of hours in the water, letting the waves push me back and forth, floating on my back and letting my hair float out around me like seaweed. Despite growing up in L.A., I never spent much time at the beach until I was old enough to run away from my foster homes, and then I was hooked. This must be what a mermaid’s life is like, floating in the sea all day, not a care in the world.

  By the time I get out of the water, I’m thoroughly chilled. When I stretch out on my towel under the setting sun, the warmth feels good now. In fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever been so comfortable, and I realize for the first time in a long time, things might be looking up for me. Justin might be a pain in the ass, but maybe having a place to come home to is worth putting up with his take-charge attitude. And if I could pass the summer school program like he thinks I can, I might even be able to get a real job, afford my own place to live. It’s worth a shot anyway, and if it doesn’t work out, there is always this towel on the beach, which is getting more comfortable by the second.

  * * *

  It’s dark when I wake up, but the afternoon heat still lingers. Stars hang in the air, their reflection on the moonlight glowing like tiny orbs. The beach is empty except for a couple of stoners near the lifeguard station. The scent of their weed mingles with the salty ocean spray, creating a headiness in the air. I could use a cigarette myself. The last one I bummed from those kids at school is hidden away safely in Jessica’s dresser, useless to me now. When I wander over to the tokers and ask them if they have a spare, they look at me like I have two heads.

  “You mean tobacco? Nah, we don’t mess with that poison,” one of them goes. “Just good old ganga.”

  He offers me the blunt they’re passing back and forth, and even though it’s not my fix of choice, I take a deep drag, cough, and go to hand it back. But the stoner waves generously at me. “Go ahead,” he says. “Get a buzz on. We’re already blasted, right, Marv?”

  Marv just guffaws. I shrug but take a few more hits until the edges of my surroundings become clearer, closer somehow. Like the whole world is right there at my fingertips. “Thanks,” I say after what seems like a long time, handing back the smoking blunt. Even though I feel high as a kite, the thing is still huge—I barely put a dent in it.

  “You live around here?” the one that’s not Marv says.

  I know better than to tell them I do, thinking they might want to come hit up my place. “Just staying with some friends,” I respond coolly, looking out at the water. “Guess I’ll go for another swim before heading back. Later.”

  “Later.” Their voices subside as I make my way to the water, but I just make out not-Marv warn, “Watch out for sharks,” before the wind whips his words away.

  The water feels much colder now under the night sky, exhilarating and rushing. The stars spread out around me and I pretend I’m in space, an astronaut, no gravity. But I’m not in long before I realize just how chilled I really am, and for the first time it occurs to me to wonder what time it is. Could have been anywhere from nine p.m. to two a.m. Maybe I should head back to Justin’s. He might have thought I decided I couldn’t handle summer school after all and took off. If he checked Jessica’s old room though, he’d have seen all my stuff was still there.

  I emerge from the water dripping and shivering. In the dark, I hope I can still find my way back to Justin’s place. Then I remember the weed is making me paranoid, of course I know the way back. I’ve always been good at directions. The streetlights cast a wavering glow over me as I slap-slap toward 1117 Sea Breeze Way in my flip-flops. I have the towel draped across my bare shoulders, trying to remember if I wore anything else to the beach besides my bikini. Shit. I’m pretty sure I had. I was always losing clothes this way, and then stealing more from house parties and friends.

  The light is left on at 1117, and for a moment, I feel a flutter of emotion. I’m touched that Justin would think of me in this way. But when I try the handle, it’s locked. Well, fuck. I guess he wanted me to knock. But something doesn’t sit well with me about the whole thing. It’s like I imagine him sitting in there, waiting for me to come slinking back, like I need him somehow. Like I can’t handle my own shit.

  I peer up at the deck again. Once again, the sliding glass door was left open. I don’t need Justin after all. I can find my own way in. I shimmy up the trellis just as I had done the day before, practice making me quicker, more adept. On the other side of the sliding screen door, the hallway is dark, and I think maybe Justin isn’t waiting up for me after all. Maybe he’s been asleep for hours. Maybe I should have rung the bell instead, if only to wake him up and annoy him.

  I open the door as slowly as I can, inch by inch, trying to be as quiet as possible. If Justin is sleeping, no use waking him up and risking another one of his lectures at this point. When I get the door open enough to slip through, I peek in, but the hall is empty. I come in quickly, go to pull the door behind me, and then turn to tiptoe as fast as I can to my room. But just as I’m taking my first step, a body appears in the middle of the hallway and I nearly jump out of my skin.

  Chapter Six

  “Fuck!” I do my best not to scream at the top of my lungs, even though my heart is going a mile a minute from the scare. He must have come out of his bedroom while I had my back turned to close the screen door. God damn you, Jaden, I curse myself. Terrible timing once again.

  “Do you have a problem with using front doors or something?” Justin asks in a composed way, his arms folded across his chest, hulking body seemingly taking up much of the hall.

  “It was locked,” I retort bluntly. “And I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “It’s nine-thirty,” Justin says dryly. “I know you don’t think I’m very cool, but I’m not that much of a square to go to bed before ten p.m.”

  “Well, excuse me, I didn’t know what time it was,” I say. Suddenly finding this whole thing absurd, I let out a giggle as I go to squeeze around him to get into my room—or should I say Jessica’s old room. “There’s no clocks at the beach.”

  “Are you high?” he asks, following me into the room, which I was hoping he wouldn’t do, considering I’m dying for my smoke. Oh, well, he already knew about my habit, so it’s not like it could come as that big of a shock to him to see me smoking. Ignoring his question, I pull open the top drawer and start rustling around. I know I stashed it in here somewhere, but I’m not seeing it now—just clothes…

  “Looking for something?
” Justin interrupts me. My searching has gone frantic as I become more desperate for that cig by the nanosecond. I’m also not sure if I’m going crazy since I was sure I put it here…

  “Dude, you went through my stuff!” I snap loudly, turning to face him full on. It’s not all that wise to mess with me when I’m jonesing. I could go into full blown shit-fit mode in less than point-two seconds, but I guess Justin doesn’t know that about me yet. “And you took my cigarette? Well, fuck you. I want it back. That was my only one! C’mon, man, I’m in withdrawals here.”

  “Good, because you’re quitting,” he says unapologetically. Then, before I even realize what’s happening, he’s marching up to me and taking me by the arm. “And what did I tell you about speaking to me with that language? Come on, we’re going straight into the bathroom where I can clean out that foul little mouth of yours.”

  I’m in shock, spluttering helplessly as he half-pushes, half-drags me across the room by my arm, his free hand on the back of my neck. “Wait, you’re not serious…?” I finally manage to get out, tripping over my own feet as I try to keep up with how fast he’s making me walk.

  “Does this seem like a joke to you?” We’re in the hallway now, and then Justin is shoving open the door of the bathroom with his shoulder, never releasing his grip on me. “You sneak back in here after disappearing for hours, soaking wet, high, and cursing me. Let me set one thing straight with you right now, young lady; these little behavioral problems aren’t going to fly with me. Do you understand?”

  He has me back up against the sink now, his arms encompassing me, staring right into my face. He’s making no effort to reach for a bar of soap, so I take that for a good sign at least, and decide maybe if I play the sorry card he’ll forget this whole thing.