I can feel my mom’s eyes on me the entire time as I wait for her criticism.
“Maybe you should make some friends that know the difference between bird food and juice.” Her words are like venom, but I try my best to ignore them.
“It was an honest mistake.”
“Who is this Violet girl anyway?”
“Violet Cromwell. She and I had a few classes together last year.” I’m not surprised Dad hasn’t told her anything about the drug bust and the fact that I’m not supposed to be seeing her; they rarely talk. I relish in the way her face distorts when she hears the name.
“The Cromwell girl? Figures,” she huffs.
Nona’s home always smells weird, but no one else seems to notice. Family day is in the cafeteria. My father hasn’t shown up on time, as usual. Some last minute appointment. Mother is running late as well, but that’s okay. Nona and I sit at a round table playing a game of Rummy.
“Do you have a boyfriend yet?” Nona asks, picking up a few cards.
I roll my eyes. “We’re not talking boys today.”
“Why not? I’m so bored here. Come on, gimme some good gossip to hold on to.”
I hold back a smile and lean in close. It’s quiet in here and I don’t want anyone to hear what I’m about to tell my Nona.
“Okay, but if you tell Dad, I won’t visit for a month.”
“Cross my heart.” She makes a cross shape along her chest. “Testicles, spectacles, watch and wallet.”
I cover my ears. Ew. I don’t want to hear her say the word testicles. “Nona, that’s gross.”
She sets her cards down and attempts to wink at me, but she’s having such a hard time coordinating it, I can’t help but laugh. “Would you rather I tell you about how your grandfather had a dickiedo? His belly popped out further than his dickie do.”
“Nona!” I hiss again, getting a disturbing chill up my spine. “If you bring up male genitals again, I swear I’ll leave.”
“Oh all right, but if you’re gonna be a nurse like I was, you will have to stop being so squeamish. You’ll see balls of all sizes and shapes. Some that look like gourds, some that hang low, and wobble to and fro, some that are hairy.”
“Nona! I’m not being squeamish.”
“Tell me about this testicle boy.”
I pinch up my lips before smiling slowly. “I’m sorta seeing a guy. His name is Mischa.” I make sure to stress the word sorta because who knows what we are doing.
“Mischa, huh? Is he cute?”
“Very.”
“And did you meet in class? Is he one of those football players you girls like to go for?”
“Nona! No, he’s a senior.”
She waves her hand at me with a slight tsk. “Makes no difference to me. Your grandfather was almost ten years older than me and we got married after two weeks of dating.”
She gets quiet like she does whenever she talks about him.
Nona is in her late eighties. My parents had me late in life, they’d never expected any children, but somehow I’d managed to get through. Some might call me their miracle child, but my parents just refer to me as a mistake. They’ve never said it to my face, but I can see the annoyance in their eyes when they look at me.
“Where’s your mother tonight?” Nona asks.
Speak of the devil. I shrug. “Oh, who knows.”
“Why are you getting upset?”
Redness blushes through my cheeks. “I’m not.”
“Are you on your period?” she yells.
I drop my cards and look around to see she’s caught the attention of a few nearby tables. “No-na!”
She gives a cackle and pushes her wire-rimmed glasses up further on her nose. “I thought that might be why you’re hormonal.”
“No, I’m not on my period. Let’s just finish the game, I’m winning.”
“Fine with me. Have you thought about college yet?”
I purse my lips. We’ve had this conversation before, and the answer is always the same. “Dad still wants me to go to Columbia, but I don’t want to be so far from you.”
“Don’t worry about me. We can still talk on the phone. Have you thought about going to the same school as your grandfather?”
“Tennessee Tech?”
“Yes, I hear the nursing program is excellent there.”
“Not really. I haven’t really thought about anywhere else honestly. I figure since Dad is paying, he has the final call.”
We’re interrupted by my father sitting down in the seat next to me.
“Mother, Dakota.” He acknowledges us each with a nod. “Sorry I’m late.”
Nona waves a hand at him and mutters, “Testicles.”
“Nona!” I cry out.
“What?” my father asks.
“I said typical,” Nona fibs. “I was just chatting with your daughter about her plans for school.”
He takes off his coat and hangs it on the chair behind him. “Columbia and then medical school. End of discussion.”
“I don’t want to go to an Ivy League school. I don’t want to go to medical school. I want to go to nursing school,” I complain.
My father glares at his mother for a moment. He’s silently blaming her for my attitude. “Why be a nurse when you can go all out and just be a doctor?”
“Fine,” I say. I only want to drop the subject.
“I’m getting a tattoo!” Nona announces, breaking the tension between my father and me.
“Where?” I ask.
My father drops his head in his hands.
“On my arm. I’m thinking something crazy like Tweety Bird or something.”
“Tweety Bird?” I ask.
My father pulls up a picture on his phone of a bigheaded yellow bird.
“Cute. Do it.”
“Don’t,” he tells Nona. “You’ll get Hepatitis C.”
Nona shakes her head. “I’m well aware of the risks, son.” She begins dealing a hand of cards.
“Speaking of risks, Cody, are you planning on volunteering at the hospital again this summer?” he asks, picking up his cards.
I’ve been volunteering for the past two summers. It isn’t much, but I visit and bring gifts to the patients who have none. “I plan on it.”
“Good. I’ll turn in your application to the director.” He stands to kiss Nona on the forehead. “I have to get back to work. Emergency shortage. Get home at a decent hour, Dakota. See you next week, Mom. I’ll stay longer then, I promise.”
He pats me on the top of the head like I’m six and walks away. This is the first time I’ve seen him since he picked me up at the police station, and he stays but a few minutes.
When I get home, neither of my parents’ cars are in the driveway. Mom never showed up, but it’s okay. Nona and I played poker with a few other families and caught up on all of her soap operas. As soon as I turn the car off, my phone beeps. It’s Killian. One word.
Rooftop?
I get out of the car, head to the backyard and look up. Sure enough, Killian waves from his usual spot.
“The weather is nice up here!”
I squint across the darkness and walk a little closer. I could use some relaxing time. “Okay, just a minute.” His house is unlocked, and I let myself in and climb out to join him.
“What are you doing here on a Monday?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
He looks back at the sky and smiles. “My school is already out for the summer.”
“No fair.”
He lights up a joint and passes it my way. “Well, what do we do on a boring Monday night? Wanna order a pizza?”
“Already ate.”
“Wanna help me film a movie. I’m certain I’d get more hits if I had a hot girl cameo. We’re doing a skit called The Crazy Princess and currently I play the princess.”
As much as being a princess appeals to me, Killian will make a prettier one. “You have like millions of views already,” I point out.
He tilts his head to the side and give
s a boastful yet playful smile. “I do, don’t I?”
“Yup.”
He quiets. “So you’re sleeping with Cromwell, huh?”
He doesn’t know I was a virgin before. We never really talk about sex together. “Something like that. What? You gonna warn me, too?” I don’t know why I’m getting so defensive. Guess I’m sick of the warnings.
“Nah, I’m certain you’ve gotten enough of that. What I wanna know is, why are you still taking this risk?”
“Risk?”
“Risking your heart.”
I wish I could explain it to him, but I can’t. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ve been waiting for my chance for so long I can’t let the opportunity pass me by. I’ve liked him since grade school.”
“I can’t say I blame you then. For me, I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to sleep with that one actress, Ginger Teague. You can’t have regrets in life.”
“Are you gonna say I told you so when he breaks my heart?” I try and find a comfortable place on the roof, but everything feels hard, even the subject.
Killian stretches out his arms and legs against the roof, taking his time before answering. “Nah, I’ll just be here to pick up the pieces.”
“Aww…my rooftop hero.” I put my hands against my heart like a swoony cartoon character.
“Then… I’ll say I told you so.”
I punch his forearm. “What about you? Anyone special?”
“No, I mean there is someone, more of a hope for someone, but she isn’t ready for me yet.”
“What did we just say about regrets?” I scold.
He pulls off his ball cap, letting his brown hair fall in his eyes. “I know. I know. Let’s talk about something else. This subject is a little odd.”
“Agreed. Are we celebrating anything in particular?”
He points to the subdivision. “I think they just broke ground on that lot to the far left.”
“Oooh…my turn. My turn!”
We don’t have drinks this time so instead I raise my hand for a majestic fist bump. I’m not sure what to wish/salute to this time. Over the weeks, we’ve gone through everything. Well, almost everything.
“To love,” I say, knocking my knuckles against his.
“To infatuation,” he corrects, fist bumping me again.
“No, to the steadfast.”
Our eyes connect. Both of us realizing how cruel life can be, how tempting it is to get swept away in the people that pay attention to us.
“So…” I want to lighten the mood, but am not sure how to do it.
He points to the highway where a billboard stands. “You ever seen the Powerball sign change numbers?”
I stare at the billboard that holds the current amount of the weekly lottery jackpot. It’s far enough away that I can barely read the numbers, but I do know it’s high.
“Um…no. Does someone change it every week?”
“Surely not, surely it’s electronic.”
“I don’t know, it doesn’t look digital. It kind of looks like the old wall on Wheel of Fortune. We could turn the numbers.”
He gives me a cheesy grin and puts his hands in the air. “Maybe we should watch the changing of the lottery sign.”
I swat at a bug that has landed on my arm before laughing at my friend. “That sounds so redneck.”
“Really? Cause I propose we sit up here in our cheap lawn chairs and drink watered down beer.”
“Ugh, Killian. You’re bad, you know that?”
“So it’s a date? Meet me here at ten o’clock on Wednesday night.”
I nod and we make the plans to do something stupid before I have to go back to my room and back to the real life.
I look for Mischa at school on Tuesday, but he doesn’t show. He isn’t at home when I stop by to pick up Violet for school. Neither is he home when I drop her off. Wednesday is the same thing. He’s fallen off the face of the earth, again. I can’t understand it. He acts like he wants to be with me, but doesn’t follow through?
Last period on Wednesday drags on. When the bell rings, I stand to leave but Mr. Smith stops me.
“Cody, can we talk?”
I approach his desk, positive he’s going to hound me about my grades.
“I’ve noticed a dramatic drop in your grades this semester. Is there something I can do to help you bring your grade up?”
I fiddle with the fringe on the bottom of my shirt. “Um…”
“I only say this because you’ve been an honors student for the past three years and after having you in Biology, I figured chemistry would be a breeze.”
“I’ve been distracted,” I explain. Distracted with parties, late nights, and boys.
“Distracted is an understatement. You’re failing and with only two weeks left of school I don’t know if you can bring it up. Even an A on the final will only bring you to a low C.”
“Last time I checked, a C is still passing.”
“What happened to your dream of going to medical school? Didn’t you want to follow in your father’s footsteps? I remember him talking about that at the hospital benefit last year.”
He has it all wrong. I couldn’t care less what my father does, but my father keeps telling people I’m going to medical school. They wrote a column on our family in a magazine last year, and I was quoted as wanting to change lives with him by my side. I’m following in my grandmother’s footsteps and becoming a nurse. She’s the person who made a difference. My father just makes a paycheck.
“I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem as important right now.”
“Boys may seem important right now, but your grades need to take precedence. I’m going to have to put you on academic probation for the rest of the semester. You know what that means.”
“I do.” Required afterschool tutoring, the same tutoring I used to volunteer for. I turn around, my face a bright shade of pink. School used to feel so important, but somehow I’ve let all the important things slip away.
Violet is waiting for me after class.
“What did he want?” she asks.
“I’m on probation. I’m not passing chemistry.”
“That really sucks. What are you gonna do?”
“Study.” I throw my books in my locker and lean against it. All the students are buzzing about prom on Friday. It’s a big deal for the juniors, but I haven’t given it a second thought. It may possibly be because I have no date. No one asked me, big surprise. I have a date with a pint of ice cream and a cheesy romantic comedy.
“Are you going to prom?” I ask Violet.
“You know how I feel about those things. It’s another way to have a popularity contest. Why? Are you wanting to go?”
I shrug. “Maybe. No one really asked me. Anyway, I better at least try and bring my grades up before finals. I’m gonna go to the library and study away from all the distractions.”
“See you,” she calls out.
I head for the public library across the street and find a seat in the corner. I get halfway through my study guide before someone taps me on the shoulder. I look up and see Killian grinning down at me.
“Imagine seeing you here.” He sits down beside me and scoots his chair in close.
“Studying for my finals. What are you doing here?”
“Some of the guys want to do a funny skit based on Space Odyssey: 2001, but I’ve never seen it. Figured I’d watch the movie. The public library is the only place that has it.” He holds up a DVD. “Wanna watch it with me?”
“Space Odyssey, sounds fun,” I say sarcastically. “No thanks.” I tuck my hair behind my ear and hunch over my books.
“You seem a little bummed about something. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I begin erasing a formula that I messed up on.
He covers the front of my books with his hand, causing me to look up at him. “I know you better than that. What’s wrong?”
“Prom is this weekend.”
“So? You don’t take me as the type of
girl who cares about those types of things.”
“I don’t, but it looks fun.”
“Then go.”
“Violet and everyone else are only going to the after party. Plus I don’t have a date.”
“I’ll be your date.”
He says it so casually that I can’t help but laugh. “Really, you don’t have to do that.”
“It’s okay. My dad is going to be working in Washington for the next week. My mom is going with him, so I’ll be home with the house all to myself.”
I should say no. I don’t need him to take me on some pity date because no one wanted to ask me, but I really want to go. I didn’t realize how much until just now. It might be fun to do something to get my mind off Mischa.
“Okay, let’s do it.”
He tosses the DVD back and forth between his hands. “I feel like I’m in a cheesy rom-com. I’ve just asked my friend to prom. Are our parents going to be parading us around with pictures?”
I make a circle with my lips and mouth ‘okay’ before speaking.“Don’t have to worry about that. Your dad scares the crap out of me.”
“You and me both. So I’ll pick you up Friday night at six? We can eat first.”
“Sounds good.”
After he leaves, I try and finish my study guide, but I can’t seem to focus. I pack up my backpack and head home.
I’m surprised to find my mom at home when I get there. She ushers me to the stairs the second I walk in.
“Where have you been? We have dinner guests coming any minute and you need to get ready.”
“Who’s coming?”
“The Carmikes from next door, and I need you to be on your best behavior. You just might be able to get Senator Carmike to write you a letter of recommendation for college.”
“Joy!” I moan. I take my time going upstairs, taking delight in my mother’s huffs about how slow I’m going.
In no mood to hear any more of her nitpicking, I pick out the most conservative dress I own and pull my hair up into a bun. I take my time applying my makeup until the doorbell rings.
I put on a fake smile and walk downstairs.
“Oh, Dakota! Come say hi to our neighbors.”
I walk over to Jim Carmike and hold out my hand. “Good evening, Senator. How are you?”
To the Steadfast Page 6
