The Right and the Real

by Joëlle Anthony

  I dug the paperwork out of the glove compartment while Krista wiped her eyes with a paper napkin and got her license out of her purse. “It’s not my car,” she told the officer. She nodded at me. “It’s Jamie’s. Her dad said it’s okay if I drive it.”

  “You two sit tight, and I’ll be back in a minute,” the officer said, taking the registration and insurance info.

  I didn’t know what Krista was doing because I couldn’t make myself look at her, but I could hear her sniffling, and it made my stomach heave. She never cried.

  “That’s so weird about the gauge,” she finally said. “Did you know it was broken?”

  “I forgot to get gas,” I admitted.

  I could feel her looking at me, but I stared at a muddy spot on the floor mat. “How’d you forget?” she asked. “You said you were on your way to the Quikmart right after I gave you the weekly gas money.”

  “I know. I just…spaced it.”

  I couldn’t tell Krista I’d paid part of my rent with her cash. I’d planned to use this morning’s tips to fill up, but we’d had a huge rush right when it was time to go and Trent had told me to pick them up after school.

  “My mom is going to kill me,” she said. “This is all your fault.”

  “My fault? I didn’t run a red light.”

  “Yellow!” she said.

  “Right.”

  “If you’d gotten gas like you were supposed to, I wouldn’t have been distracted.”

  I was practically in tears myself by then. “I’m sorry, okay?”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay.…”

  Krista reached over and took my hand in hers, and my insides immediately tightened. It reminded me just a little too much of something her mom might do right before she asked me a probing question. And it turned out I had good reason to be worried.

  “Jamie,” she said, “don’t get mad at me, but I have to ask you this. Are you on drugs?”

  I yanked my hand out of hers. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “It’s not me being stupid.”

  “Uh, excuse me, but have you ever seen me do drugs?” I demanded. “Why would you even think that?”

  “Because you’ve been acting so weird lately. You’re never there for me. You don’t want to hang out. You let Josh talk you into a secret relationship. You’re totally broke all the time, and now you’re quitting the play. You don’t think that’s crazy behavior for you?”

  Now it was my turn to glare at her, but she met my stare, and I ended up looking away first. In my mirror, I saw Officer Salt placing a flare behind the Beast. I sat there, my arms crossed, refusing to talk to her about it. First LaVon asked me if I did drugs, now my best friend. Did I act like my mother? I don’t think so. Not to mention, I’d broken up with Josh. What did she want from me?

  About five more minutes passed and then Pepper was back. “Bad news, ladies. The insurance policy was canceled two weeks ago.”

  “Are you serious?” I asked.

  She looked at me like I was crazy. Of course she was serious. She was a police officer. I was so dumb I couldn’t believe it. If Dad had canceled my phone, he wouldn’t keep paying for something expensive like insurance. The officer handed Krista her license and a ticket.

  “What’s this?” Krista asked.

  “Citation for driving without insurance and running a red light.”

  “Why am I in trouble for not having insurance?” she asked. “It’s Jamie’s car.”

  “I understand that,” Pepper said, “but you’re the one driving. When you go to court, take some proof that you’re personally insured, and maybe it will be dropped. I’m sorry, but because the vehicle is uninsured, I am going to have to impound it.”

  “But—” I said.

  “Here’s the information on how to get it back.” She handed me a slip of paper.

  “So what do we do now?” I asked her.

  “Get anything you want before the tow truck comes, and then I guess you should probably phone someone for a ride.”

  She went back to her cruiser, and Krista said, “Call your dad. Maybe he can straighten this out before it gets here.”

  “I can’t,” I said. “He’s in a meeting this morning.”

  “But—” Krista said.

  “Let’s just get our stuff and go to school. It’s not that far.”

  Krista stood there scowling while I took everything out of the glove compartment. I dug a few library books from under the seat and then we started walking the half mile to school.

  “You should’ve called your dad,” Krista said as we walked.

  “He can’t answer calls today.”

  “Not even for an emergency? Like what if we’d had an accident?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know…I just know I can’t get him on the phone.” She’d probably accuse me of being a meth addict just because I couldn’t reach my dad. “Can we drop it?”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  We walked along in silence, my dance bag cutting into one shoulder and my backpack digging into the other. We were still a few blocks from the school when it started to drizzle. Fantastic. Exactly what I needed to round out my perfect morning.

  I would never have the money to get the Beast out of hock. And how was I going to get to school every day now? Could my life possibly suck any more than this?

  chapter 22

  “KARMA,” LAVON SAID WHEN I TOLD HIM ABOUT the Beast being towed away.

  “What did I ever do to deserve all the crap that’s happening to me lately?” I asked.

  He loaded a bowl with the linguine he’d tossed with a white, creamy sauce and handed it to me. I sat on his only chair and waited while he served himself. It was the first time I’d seen him since the whiskey incident, and neither of us mentioned it.

  “Not your karma,” he said. “Your dad’s.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “You’re shit outta luck over the title ’cause he disappeared, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you couldn’t get a new one ’cause his name’s on it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  LaVon grated some Parmesan onto my pasta and then ground fresh black pepper over it.

  “And he canceled your insurance, which was not cool. But…who gets the bill for towing and storage?” he asked.

  “Ohhh…I see.”

  “Karma.”

  “Yep. I guess. But how am I going to get to school?”

  “Simple. Bicycle.”

  I glanced at the huge bike he had hanging from the ceiling.

  “Not mine,” he said. “We’ll get you a used one.”

  “I don’t have much money.” I’d have to pay Krista back her fifty dollars gas money too.

  “I know a guy,” LaVon said. “Eat that food, and we’ll walk over to his house.”

  I hoped it wouldn’t be a stolen bike, but I was too afraid of offending him to ask. “Okay. Thanks.”

  “No prob.”

  LaVon’s friend had a whole garage full of bikes, but they weren’t stolen. They were all donations. He fixed them up to give to people at the homeless shelters so they could get around the city. The bike LaVon chose for me was pale green where it wasn’t rusty, but he said not to worry about appearances because then no one would want to steal it. The chain creaked and looked like it would snap any second, and the seat leaked yellowed foam padding, but his friend had given him replacement parts.

  “No offense, but this bike’s a piece of crap,” I said.

  “You need to chill,” he told me as we walked it home. “I told you. It’s mostly cosmetic. I can fix it.”

  “By tomorrow morning?” I asked.

  “Yeah, right. You’ll be walking from the bus stop, so leave early.”

  “I doubt Trent will let me. I’ll just have to miss first period.”

  “I’ll write you a note,” he said.

  “Really?”

  He shook his head and grinned at me. “No. Not really. You
so gullible it’s amazin’ you survived this long on your own.”

  But we both knew I wasn’t on my own.

  On Friday morning, I watched Trent make a design on a cup of hot water with milk foam. His latest plan for raising money for NYU was to win ten grand in Las Vegas at one of those contests for baristas where they drew fancy pictures on cappuccinos. He practiced whenever it was slow.

  Trent had been almost cold to me the first couple days after the big Valentine flower delivery, and even now that he was acting friendly again, he’d totally stopped flirting with me. I wanted to tell him I’d broken up with Josh, but I was afraid it would look like I was desperate for a boyfriend. Also, I’d flirted with him a lot when I had one. Now that he knew that about me, he might not trust me very much anymore. That made two of us. It seemed like every time I turned around, I discovered I’d lost sight of everything I thought I was.

  “Maybe I should learn that too,” I said. “I could use the money for New York.”

  He pushed his bangs out of his eyes, and I couldn’t help wishing I’d done it. His hair looked so soft.

  “What you should do,” Trent said, “is find an agent and get some auditions. I bet you could cash in.”

  “Wouldn’t that be cool?” I said. “A national commercial could pay for the whole program.”

  I’d considered trying to land a local agent before, but there wasn’t a lot of work in Portland. Still, maybe I would look for one after graduation.

  “I closed for Amanda last night,” Trent said.

  I could see the tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth as he concentrated. Just like Krista when she sketched.

  “Yeah?” I couldn’t tell what the picture was yet, but it looked like a horse’s head.

  “That guy came in looking for you.”

  A little shock of alarm raced through me. “What guy?”

  “The one who was here before. Blond crew cut. Looks like a linebacker.”

  “Josh?”

  Trent shrugged and added a horn to the horse’s head, turning it into a unicorn. “I guess. I don’t know his name.”

  With my new resolve to take my life back, I’d thrown off all thoughts of Josh. Or at least I’d tried. But sometimes I still missed him. It had only been four days, after all. Still, I was curious. “What’d he want?”

  “Well,” Trent said, finishing his design with a flourish and then dumping it out before I could even compliment him, “I guess he wanted you. He said he was your boyfriend.”

  Trent looked up at me, a question in his brown eyes.

  I shook my head. “He’s not,” I said. “I mean, he was. But he’s not now.”

  “Good to know,” he said, without a smile. And then he went into the back room, leaving me standing there to help a couple of customers who had just come in.

  I was on my way to school when he called my name.

  “Hey, Jamie, I almost forgot. That guy, Jon or whatever his name was, left you this.” He held out a napkin with Josh’s handwriting on it.

  I read it aloud. “Blue Raspberry Popsicles?”

  “He said you’d know what it meant.”

  “No clue.” I tossed the napkin into the garbage.

  I’d have to find Josh and ask him. Also, I wanted to remind him he was no longer my boyfriend.

  Krista was at the locker when I got there right before fourth period. “Hi,” I said. “Hold the door. I need my shoes.”

  She slammed it like she hadn’t heard me, but we both knew she had.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said, her voice icy.

  “Whatever.” I spun the combination.

  “Thanks for picking me up this morning,” she said, the sarcasm dripping all over the floor.

  “What? I don’t have a car, remember?”

  “You could’ve called.”

  I sighed. “You know they towed the Beast away.”

  “So what? I figured you’d borrow your dad’s car or something. I was late to first period.”

  “How would my dad get to work if I took his car?” I immediately felt a pang of guilt, because this lying thing was getting way too easy. I didn’t even have to try anymore.

  I could feel her glare burning into me. “Oh, and even though you don’t care enough to ask, my mom said I’m covered by her insurance, so I shouldn’t lose my license or anything.”

  I slammed my math book onto the shelf. “Krista. I care, okay? And I’m sorry I didn’t ask, but I just walked up, and you went off on me. Jeez. Give me a break.”

  “Why don’t you give me one? Just tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

  I dug through the junk on the bottom of the locker, looking for my jazz shoes. The ballet unit in PE was over, and we were changing to modern dance today. “Nothing is going on, okay?” I gave up looking for my shoes. I’d just go barefoot. It wasn’t like it was a real class at Bright Lights, where I’d have to sit out if I didn’t have my shoes. I left Krista standing there.

  At lunchtime, I went to the theater to find Mr. Lazby. I’d missed English because I’d worked late and then had to take the bus and walk two miles. And we’d had a sub the day before, so I hadn’t seen him yet to tell him I was dropping out of the musical. I figured he’d consider me a traitor for choosing a job over West Side, and I was right. I found him hunched over the sewing machine, yards of bluechecked fabric pooled around him as he sewed what looked like a nineteen-fifties poodle skirt.

  “Hi, Mr. Lazby,” I said.

  He kept his eyes on his work. “Jamie.”

  The way he said my name told me he knew already. “I guess you heard.”

  “It’s your life,” he said. “I saved West Side Story for your senior year because I knew you’d shine, but it’s not a big deal.”

  Okay…could he make me feel any worse? It wasn’t like quitting was something I wanted to do.

  “I need a job,” I said. “To pay for New York.”

  His posture straightened a little.

  “You’re the one who always says high school theater is just for fun. That even if we’re really good here, it doesn’t mean anything in the real world,” I reminded him. “I’m thinking of the big picture.”

  The sewing machine buzzed as the needle pierced the fabric and he pushed the material along.

  “Mr. Lazby,” I said, sounding a lot like I was begging, but trying not to, “what do you always tell us? To be a professional, personal sacrifice is required. Right?”

  Finally, he shoved the material aside, and the smile that flashed across his face was the one of a young man who still had dreams of being a pro himself. “You’re right,” he said. “I just hate to lose my star pupil. What if I gave you a couple of days off each week so you could get a job?”

  I knew how that would work. He’d say I could have Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays off, or something like that, and then after a week or two, he’d be scheduling me those days anyway. “Thanks, but I need to be more flexible than that,” I said.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I was counting on you to play Maria.”

  An arrow plunged into my heart. To hear him actually say it almost killed me. My mind whizzed around like a rat trying different avenues of escape from the maze. There had to be some way I could play the lead after all. I shook off the thought, reminding myself I’d be a pro someday. There’d be other chances for fantastic parts.

  By now, I was sure Krista had told Liz I was quitting the musical, and she was probably already learning Maria’s lines. “You’ve got Liz Rafferty,” I said, trying not to choke on the big lump in my throat.

  He shrugged. “True.” That was so not what I wanted to hear. “But no one sings quite like you,” Mr. Lazby said, making me feel a little better. “Still, if you need a job, you need a job. That’s life.”

  I made myself smile. “Yeah.…”

  Acting was a weird profession. I’d always felt that…well, because I was probably the most talented in our school, I sort of ruled the drama department. A
t least as far as the girls were concerned. But Mr. Lazby had inadvertently given me my first lesson. Everyone can be recast, because there’s always someone just as good waiting in the wings.

  I wanted to avoid Krista, and there were only four minutes of lunch left by the time I finished talking with Mr. Lazby, so I jogged through the halls, hoping I wouldn’t get stopped by a teacher. I could see something bright yellow sticking out of one of the vents of a locker, and when I got up close, I saw it was ours.

  I yanked out a piece of folded-up cardboard and smoothed it flat. A Popsicle box? Okay, that was too weird to be a coincidence. First the note at work and now this. What was Josh up to? He obviously had something to tell me, but ever since the scene in the caf on Monday, he hadn’t come near me. This was just stupid.

  I peered around every corner looking for him on my way to class, but didn’t have any luck. A weird thing did happen, though. I got a flash of a memory from when I was little, before Mom had started drinking her breakfast and my parents’ marriage had fallen apart. I was sitting on concrete steps eating a blue Popsicle. I must’ve been about three. Both my mom and dad were in the yard eating them with me, and we were laughing at Mom because she’d used her cherry one like lipstick and painted her mouth clown red. Dad had the same flavor as me, and he waggled a blue tongue at us. I stuck mine out at him, grinning.

  But what could that have to do with Josh? Nothing, as far as I could figure out. The warning bell rang, and I shook off the vision as the halls flooded with noisy kids. Something more than that memory did nag at me, though. What the hell was he trying to tell me?

  chapter 23

  I’D FOUND A NOTE DURING MY MORNING SHIFT FROM Amanda asking me to fill in for Jezziray that night, so after school, I went back to the motel to drop off my bag and change before heading over to the Coffee Klatch. I wanted to say no to an extra shift because I was so tired that the stairs felt like Mount Everest, but I needed the money. Plus it was Friday night, and the motel would be crazy with partiers.

  I’d just set my bag down when I heard LaVon rap on the wall between us—one loud thump followed by three, sharp raps meant he wanted to see me. After triple-checking my door was locked behind me, I dropped by.