If I Tell

by Janet Gurtler

  I pushed the rest of the fries toward him. “Have them. I’m not hungry.” I hoped he’d gain 20 pounds. In his gut. And lose all his hair.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “It’s about betrayal. Inspired by things in my life.” I dropped my burger for good. My fingers wrapped around my charm bracelet, and I tried to calm myself.

  Simon shoveled fries into his mouth, still watching me. “Who betrayed you?” he asked. His frenzied chewing stopped.

  “No one. It’s nothing. Just teen stuff.”

  “You can talk to me.” He smiled without showing teeth. “We’re almost related, right? I’d like to help.”

  Beside me, one of the young girls snickered at something.

  “No. You can’t,” I told him.

  Simon leaned forward, his broad smile mocking the rage inside of me. “Of course I can. Some of us guys are good ones. Let’s face it. You’re stuck with me now.”

  Anger flushed my cheeks. Stuck with him and keeping his secret. I started to stand and Simon reached for me. Almost in slow motion, as if on its own accord, my hand lifted. Simon’s smile turned into a puzzled frown. Then a loud bang like a gun being fired filled the air. My hand smacked against his flesh.

  “Jaz, what’s wrong with you?”

  An old woman standing behind Simon gasped, but for a second I saw a flash of satisfaction in her eye. Simon’s face registered shock, hurt, and disbelief.

  We stared at each other, and then I spun around. My arm caught the corner of our tray. Food clattered on the floor, and the sound of it mixed with amused giggles from people sitting around us.

  I ran. I raced out into the mall, afraid he’d be on my heels. When it became obvious he wasn’t, I stopped. I dug inside my jacket pocket and grabbed my cell. Dialed. It rang once.

  “Hello?” said an impatient voice.

  I glanced around. “Mom? It’s me.” Simon definitely wasn’t following.

  “Jaz? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I was just, you know, thinking about you.”

  “That’s sweet. But I’m at work and busy. Is there something important you need to talk to me about?” She sounded annoyed.

  I paused. “Not really.” Every fiber screamed at me to tell her. “I, um, wondered how you’re doing. With the pregnancy and all.”

  “I’m uncomfortable as hell. If this baby even thinks about being late, I will reach up and yank it out of my body myself.”

  I made a face. “Mom. Gross.”

  She sighed. “Well, you asked. Did Simon ask you to call me? To see if I was okay?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Damn him. I told him not to.”

  So perceptive about some things and so oblivious about others.

  “He didn’t ask me to call. We kind of had a fight.”

  “Oh, Jaz. I really don’t have time for this now.” Mom sighed and lowered her voice. Her crisp, professional voice switched on. “Listen, honey. I’m about to see an important client. I have to go. Can we deal with this later?”

  “Never mind.” I paused. “It’s nothing,” I said. “I love you,” I added softly, but she’d already hung up.

  My fingers clutched the phone for a minute, and my eyes blinked fast to keep back the tears.

  “Hey.” A voice called, interrupting my thoughts.

  I wiped under my eyes and looked up at the instantly recognizable voice. Nathan.

  “What’re you doing at the mall? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” He crossed his arms in front of himself.

  I pushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

  “Mmm. Check out that brown sugar,” Nathan mumbled as a black girl with enormous hair extensions walked toward us. He didn’t take his eyes off her butt as she strutted past. “No matter what else, you black girls have the nicest asses.”

  “Who said I was black?”

  Nathan laughed and tore his eyes away from the girl’s butt. “Look in the mirror.”

  I crossed my arms. “My mom’s white.”

  Nathan shrugged. “So’s Halle Berry’s mom, but I don’t see her denying her heritage. She’s a proud black woman.”

  “Whatever.” Debating skin color wasn’t high on my to-do list.

  “What’re you doing here anyhow?” He grinned. “Looking for me?” His grin turned nasty.

  My insides crawled. I whipped around and almost knocked over a girl standing behind me.

  I froze. It was Tina. She snapped her gum, looking amused. She slipped past me and slid her arm through Nathan’s. I wondered if she’d followed me there.

  “Well, lookie here. A girl goes to the bathroom, and who sneaks over to try to steal my guy?” She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “You’re old news, Miss Thing.”

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I gaped at her, not moving or blinking.

  “What happened to the hot old guy?” Tina asked and turned to Nathan. “She left school with some older black dude.”

  I didn’t answer. Tina looked at Nathan. “She doesn’t say much, does she?”

  “That was probably Simon, her mom’s boyfriend,” Nathan said.

  “Figures. Not like someone who’s not gay or related is going to take her anywhere.”

  “Shut up.” My hands clenched into fists.

  Nathan snorted but looked away from me as if he was embarrassed.

  “Oh. That’s right. You do talk.” Tina grinned and blew a big pink bubble and turned to Nathan. “Your ex here is after a drug dealer now, you know that?”

  “That guy’s a loser. Anyhow, I’m not into her.” Nathan put an arm around Tina’s shoulder and leaned over to slurp at her neck with his tongue. It made me want to vomit, but I couldn’t stop staring at them, unable to move.

  He glanced up from attacking her neck like it was dessert. “I guess I like my sugar white too.”

  “Much tastier,” Tina added.

  I regained control of my limbs and turned, but not before Tina shot me a triumphant look. She broke away from Nathan and leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

  “Sorry about taking your man. Oh, wait. No, I’m not.” She giggled. “Thought I’d see what all the fuss is about. You may be on to something. It is true what they say about black men, isn’t it?”

  I pushed her back and hurried toward the mall exit. My insides churned. Tina was with Nathan? I thought about taking a bus to Grinds and begging Lacey to tell me what she knew, but with a rush of heat to my face, I remembered. Lacey wasn’t my friend anymore.

  Instead of going to her, I climbed on the bus taking me back to school.

  I said a silent prayer that the new romance between Tina and Nathan wouldn’t cause me more problems. I didn’t need help making my life any worse.

  chapter eleven

  Adjusting the guitar strap on my shoulder, I hurried up the front steps of the church and tiptoed down the hallway, a little nauseated by the stuffy air. It smelled like the trunk in Grandma’s closet filled with Grandpa’s old clothes and personal items. I headed to the kitchen and found Grandma sorting piles of packaged food on the long counter and talking to a girl about the same age as me. Grandma looked up and motioned me closer. I tried to tell by her expression if she’d heard about my fight with Simon or missing classes, but she merely seemed preoccupied.

  “Jasmine, hi. This is Tanya. She’s helping me put together food baskets.”

  I nodded at the girl, noticing her old clothes. No brand names on the jeans or plain blue sweatshirt. She smiled, friendly but cautious. I smiled back and sneaked another look at Grandma, breathing slower with relief.

  From the back entrance, a pimply, tall boy walked into the kitchen, dangling a toddler in his arms.

  “She needs her diaper changed, Tanya,” he said with a squeamish grin and held the baby out.

  Tanya put down a loaf of bread and hurried to the baby, cooing as she took her from the boy. She grabbed a diaper bag off the floor and disappeared around the corner toward the washrooms. />
  “If you can’t handle that duty, Charlie, go bring in more groceries from the truck,” Grandma ordered. “We’ve got twenty-five baskets to get out tonight, and the driver will be here in half an hour.”

  The boy grinned and nodded. “Deal.” He headed back the way he’d come in.

  Grandma shook her head and picked up the loaf of bread.

  “That boy will not change diapers.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “She’s a good mom for such a young girl, and Charlie tries. They’re good kids.” She motioned me closer. “They volunteer almost every food-basket night.”

  I nodded. The girl would be about the same age as my mom when she had me. A couple of older kids marched into the kitchen carrying boxes of canned goods. Grandma rushed over, inspecting the boxes and pointing to the counter.

  She looked over her shoulder. “Jasmine, your group is downstairs in the meeting room. Cede will help you out tonight, but after this week you’ll have to handle the equipment yourself, so pay attention. Some of your group will use the karaoke machine, and some will want you to play guitar. You’ll figure it out, right?”

  I shifted the guitar on my shoulder. “Um. I guess. How many people?”

  “Ten or twelve, I think. It’s the bereavement group’s social night. They voted for singing.”

  “Bereavement?” As in sad old people? Great.

  “Most of them lost a spouse in the last year or so. Don’t worry. They’re not going to cry or demand therapy. They’re here for fun.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper.

  “Here.” She handed a sheet to Charlie. “Take this list and start putting together a box.” She glanced over at me. “Cede’s downstairs. She’ll explain. Go. She’s waiting.”

  I turned to leave, almost crashing into another girl who was walking into the kitchen with a stack of food in her arms. I blinked. It was Lacey.

  “Hey. What’s up? What’re you doing here?” Lacey asked.

  “Me? What about you?”

  “Didn’t I tell you Jasmine was helping out with karaoke night?” Grandma called to us. “I swear I lost my memory in the ’90s.” She gestured at Lacey. “Lacey’s been helping me out with food baskets for the past couple months. But of course, you knew that.”

  “Uh. No.”

  Lacey put down her pile of food. “Don’t look so surprised,” she said.

  Grandma groaned when Charlie knocked over a pile of canned goods. She raced away after a rolling can.

  “I didn’t know you were helping out my grandma,” I said to Lacey.

  “I guess that’s because you’ve been so busy avoiding me,” Lacey sniffed. “Anyway. I’m not doing it to impress you. Your grandma asked for my help. And I like it.”

  I nodded. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her or forgive her for her tendency to go after inappropriate men. Like my mom’s boyfriend, I reminded myself and headed for the exit.

  “Jaz?” Lacey called as I started to leave.

  I turned.

  “You ever going to forgive me?” Lacey asked softly.

  I glanced at Grandma, but she was busy piling up cans. I lifted my shoulder but didn’t answer.

  “How’s your mom doing? I saw her the other day.” Lacey glanced at Grandma, but she wasn’t paying attention to us. “She wasn’t very friendly.”

  I scowled. “She doesn’t know,” I whispered harshly. “She’s having a hard time with her pregnancy, that’s all.”

  Grandma looked up then and pointed at her watch.

  “I gotta go,” I told Lacey. “I’m doing karaoke downstairs.”

  Lacey’s face loosened. “With the seniors?”

  I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. “Yup.”

  “Have fun with that, Spazzy.”

  Without thinking, I laughed out loud. A long time ago, Lacey and I promised each other we’d grow old together. Be roommates at an old folks’ home. We’d called ourselves Spazzy and Looney and wreak havoc on the old men.

  “I miss you, Spazzy,” Lacey whispered. “You’re my best friend.”

  My laughter disappeared. “I gotta go. See ya.” I headed downstairs, wanting to get away from her and from the heaviness in my heart.

  ***

  Karaoke went smoothly, but the sad voices of lonely seniors crawled under my skin. One old man reminded me so much of Grandpa that my heart ached. He asked me to play a Neil Diamond song on the guitar, and as he sang along, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. I hurried out of the church when I was done, avoiding Grandma and Lacey.

  I swung my guitar strap on my shoulder so it was comfortable and began to walk. I didn’t think about where I was going or why. I just walked. Loneliness throbbed so badly inside that I struggled with my breathing. But I stared ahead and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Before I knew it, I was at Grinds.

  I went inside. Behind the counter in the Pit, Jackson was spraying whipped cream onto a specialty coffee. He spotted me, and his smile warmed my insides. Instantly my impulse to come to see him seemed okay and not the stupidest idea I’d ever had. I hurried closer.

  “I’m not stalking you,” I said when I was close to him.

  “Damn,” he answered and placed the drink he’d finished making on the counter. “And here I was hoping.”

  A man in a suit gave me a dirty look and cut in front of me to grab the mug of steaming coffee. I stepped back, but I didn’t take my eyes off Jackson. He was so handsome. So polite to the customers. The man grabbed his coffee and moved out of the way. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

  “Do you remember what you said about a rain check?” I asked.

  Jackson nodded without hesitating. “Of course. No expiration date.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding, while clinging to my guitar for dear life.

  “Well.” I gnawed my lip. “I was wondering. If, well…when you get off, if I could, you know, take you up on it. I mean, could we talk?”

  He glimpsed down at his wrist. “I’m off in fifteen. After that, I’m all yours.”

  I nodded, the combination of relief and nerves making speech temporarily impossible. For a minute I wished. Well, I wished that he really was all mine. Not just a friend.

  But I needed a friend. I glanced around the coffee shop and then at the bookstore next door. “I’ll come back. You’re sure you’re not too busy?”

  “I’m sure.” He grinned. “Hey, you were volunteering tonight, right?”

  I bobbed my head up and down like a moron.

  “How’d you get here?”

  “I walked.”

  He stood on his tiptoes and peered over the counter at my feet. “Well, at least you had your shoes on this time.”

  I laughed, and more of my tension drained. It would be okay. I could talk to Jackson. Trust him. No matter what else, he was a good person. Inside. Where it counted.

  I wandered over to the bookstore until Jackson’s shift was over. When I returned, he was clocking out. He lifted his hand in a wave and motioned me over.

  “You want to grab a seat in here?” Jackson asked from behind the counter.

  “Um. Would you mind if we went somewhere else?”

  Jackson didn’t miss a beat. “You want to head over to Gracie’s?” he asked. “They have awesome apple pie. I’m starving.”

  I nodded, my heart thumping. What if I told him the secret and everything went wrong? Could I really trust him?

  chapter twelve

  A tall, thin waiter seated us in a red leather booth at Gracie’s. A few other couples were sitting at tables, but the atmosphere was quiet and intimate. Jackson waited while I tucked my guitar under the table, and then he slid in beside me. My leg accidentally pressed up against his. I moved it quickly, pretending not to notice the jolt. He didn’t bat an eye. Without checking the dessert menu, he ordered a piece of apple pie. We both asked for sodas, and then the waiter disappeared.

  “So. What’s up?” Jackson aske
d.

  I picked up a saltshaker, dumping a few grains on the table and running my finger over them as I tried to figure out what to say.

  “You ever think you really know someone? But then you find out something horrible and it changes everything?”

  Jackson leaned back against the leather. The red made his black hair shine.

  “Not really,” he answered. “Not much that people do surprises me anymore.”

  I glanced down at the salt grains before glancing up to meet his eyes. “I suck at reading people. Must be a genetic mutation. I have several.”

  Jackson blinked.

  I bit down on my bottom lip. “I have a secret.” I felt nervous, as if I was about to perform live without rehearsal, without memorizing the lyrics.

  “Yeah. I kind of figured.” Jackson winked and propped his arms along the back of the booth. I stared at the salt and drew a line in the sprinkles on the table. I tried to remember which shoulder to throw salt over to ward off bad luck. Superstition was a gift from Grandpa.

  “You smiling about your secret?” Jackson asked.

  “No.” My lips quivered. “I wanted to throw salt over my shoulder to ward off bad luck, but I think it’s too late.”

  I stopped playing with the salt. “It has to do with Lacey. Please don’t repeat this, okay?”

  He shook his head and his eyebrow rose. “Of course not.”

  “Lacey, well, she’s had it tough. I guess she kind of deals with it by being with a lot of guys. She drinks too much. I’ve always figured it’s kind of her way to cope, you know?”

  Jackson nodded. “That’s rough.”

  I looked around the restaurant, but no one was paying us the least bit of attention. “It is. I mean, I just wish she’d stop drinking so much. I hate when she lets guys…she’s my best friend.” I stopped and bit my lip again. “She was. She’s not anymore.”

  Jackson nodded, and the waiter returned to our table and placed drinks in front of us. He smiled without speaking and quickly disappeared.

  “I know that. So what happened?” Jackson asked when the waiter left.