Blaze

by Laurie Boyle Crompton

  His other hand reaches down to mine and clicks off the flashlight.

  We’re plunged into darkness and I have a three-second freak-out session inside my head before I feel Mark’s hand on my face drawing me toward him. Nebula Unfolding! Is Mark really about to kiss me here in my crusty basement? In the pitch black I’m like Daredevil: blind, but able to detect everything around me. I can sense Mark. So near. Our bodies slide closer and his hand moves slowly to the back of my neck. I feel his warm breath on my lips. Everything goes still as I wait for my first kiss. I’m trying not to smile in the darkness. Quickly, I lick my lips. Part them slightly. Blind anticipation…

  Over the sound of my heartbeat I hear footsteps thundering in a jumble over our heads and unseeing I tilt my head toward the noise. Mark gives a small groan. I wonder if the boys have taken out the Wii Fit and worry for a moment they’ll see my Mii has the fitness level of a 45-year-old.

  “BLAZE!” Josh’s voice calls from the top of the steps. I have time to decide that Josh is not a very good brother for interrupting this moment. And then I make out what he’s saying. “AJAY CAN’T BREATHE! AJAY CAN’T BREATHE!”

  “Oh my God,” I whisper. “His asthma.”

  “Are they pranking us?” Mark asks.

  Shoving over him I shout, “CALL 911! CALL 911!” I bang my shin on a box, untangle from Mark, and trip up the stairs, willing myself to move faster than humanly possible. My eyes painfully adjust to the light as I find my messenger bag in the kitchen and begin clawing at it.

  I fumble, dumping everything on the floor, and finally find Ajay’s inhaler. I launch myself toward the den, burst into the room and breathlessly take in the scene.

  They are totally pranking us.

  Ajay looks up at me in surprise and grins. Clearly his breathing is just fine. Everyone laughs and points at the panicked look on my face as I stand, breathing heavily and holding Ajay’s inhaler aimed in the air.

  Josh looks at me in an accusing way, and I resist the urge to squirt him in the eyes. “What the hell, Josh?”

  “What the hell, yourself.” Josh volleys back. “You and Coach looking for something in the basement?”

  I widen my eyes at him and look over to see Mark is pretending to not hear what’s happening. Which is quite a trick, since the game is on pause and everybody’s gawking at Josh and I. Amanda slides closer to Stu as Terri gives me a private thumbs-up sign. But Andrew is looking at me with a furrowed brow, and Josh is outright scowling.

  Stu clears his throat and Ajay laughs uncomfortably. I finally drop my arm holding the inhaler and head back into the kitchen to gather the contents of my messenger bag off the floor. Mark seems unsure whether or not to follow me, but when Josh shoulders past him to help me, he heads back into the den.

  “Sorry, sis.” Josh doesn’t sound sorry at all. “I just panicked when I realized you were in the basement with Coach. You seriously need to—”

  “You seriously need to mind your own business,” I snap. “I am a big girl, Josh. I’m sorry you’re not ready for me to have a boyfriend, but trust me. I am ready.”

  “It’s not that—” Josh is cut off by the sound of the front door closing. The two of us freeze.

  “Hey, guys!” Mom’s voice.

  Holy shit, Josh mouths as we stay frozen to the kitchen floor.

  “Surpri—Oh.” Mom must’ve noticed the crowd of people in our home.

  Josh and I unfreeze and race to intervene, but when we get to the den we’re surprised to find Mom not freaking out. She’s standing, holding a pizza box in her hands with a lifeless smile on her face. When she spots us her eyes show fury, but her voice remains sugary-sweet. “Hey, guys. You didn’t mention you had friends coming by.”

  “Um. Sorry, Mom,” I say. “What are you doing home?”

  With her nostrils flaring she calmly explains that she traded shifts with someone who needed off next weekend. “For a birthday party, I think,” she over-explains as everyone in the den listens with polite enduring-other-people’s-parents-type attention. I notice Amanda is rubbing her hand slowly up and down Stu’s bicep. The syrupiness of Mom’s voice is really unnerving me, because she should be screaming right now. She finishes by saying, “Sorry, I would’ve brought more pizza if I’d realized.”

  Josh actually lets out a laugh before clapping his hand over his mouth.

  “That’s okay, Stu and I really need to get going.” Mark starts the good-byes, so I jump in and let Mom know I was just about to drive the boys home. Everything is hurried and awkward, which is probably why Mark doesn’t give me a hug or even a handshake good-bye before heading out the door.

  I’m left wondering what my first kiss would’ve felt like as we all clear out of the house before Mom even takes her coat off.

  I envy everyone who doesn’t have to come back here to face her the way Josh and I do. Too bad asking Mark if I can sleep over would be considered a little too forward.

  Superturd is crawling sadly along at under 20 miles per hour. “Ask for forgiveness, not permission,” I mock my brother as we head back toward our doom. Everyone knows the oldest child bears the burden of blame in these situations. Never mind the fact that this was all Josh’s idea. So unfair.

  “She’s never come home early,” Josh defends. “It’s like she has some sort of weird spidey-Mom-sense or something.” He’s trying to butter me up with a Spider-Man reference. It’s not working. “I am honestly sorry, Blaze.”

  “And what the hell was with freaking me out over Ajay’s asthma?”

  Josh gives a sigh and sinks down into his seat. “Trust me. I was desperate. Mark is not who you think he is.”

  “Never mind who I think he is.” I pull into the driveway and cut the minivan’s engine. “You need to butt out.” I don’t need my little brother sabotaging my love life on top of everything else I have working against it.

  We’re quiet for a moment, both procrastinating. “You think she’s going to kill us?” Josh asks.

  “You’d think so. But she didn’t seem too upset when she caught us.”

  “Yeah. She actually seemed kind of cool with the party.”

  Turns out, Mom was Not. Cool. With the party.

  The moment the two of us walk in the door she launches into a tirade about how embarrassing and offensive it was to enter her own home and be slapped by such dishonesty.

  “I try to do something nice, and what happens?” She’s close to hysterics, and I glance around at the den to confirm that the place isn’t trashed. It actually looks a little neater than usual, since Josh and I straightened up before everyone got here.

  After we’ve endured her verbal wrath for a time, Mom sends Josh upstairs to bed so she can “talk to Blaze alone.” Told you so.

  Josh mouths I’m sorry on his way up the stairs.

  As soon as he’s gone, she announces, “You, young lady, are grounded! You’re to go nowhere other than driving your brother around. Got it?”

  She glares at me, and it’s as if my anger has been flipped on by a switch. I cannot take her treating me like all I ever do is give her grief. I’ve never been any trouble, and she’s acting like I have nothing to do with the fact that she and Josh and I are even functioning as a family.

  “You can’t do that,” I tell her. “You can’t ground me and still have me continue to do your job for you. If I’m grounded, then fine, but you can’t still make me drive Josh and the guys around.”

  Her mouth opens and closes with shock, and I’m immediately ashamed. But I can’t turn my anger switch back off. This must be what becoming The Incredible Hulk feels like.

  “Blaze, why are you making this about me?” Mom asks quietly. “You’re the one who lied.”

  Hulk say, “Because I deserve to have a life, Mom. I’m not supposed to be the soccer mom! You are!”

  It’s as if everything I’ve been holding back is being released at once. Like my lips are still mad about not getting to kiss Mark, and they’re lashing out at Mom.

&nb
sp; “Blaze! If anybody stuck you in this role, it’s your father with his selfishness.” She doesn’t realize she’s just making Hulk more angry as she goes on, “Chasing his stupid acting dreams at forty? I mean, who the hell does that?”

  Of course, from there it’s only a short segue to Mom pacing around the room giving a dramatic rendition of “I’m an ACTOR now! I can’t possibly be bothered with supporting my family. I’m an AC-TOR!”

  Finally, I cannot take it. Hulk Smash! I stand in her path.

  “You are the one who made the decision to leave your boring nine-to-five desk job working for Dr. Lang so you could have this big exciting adventure working all hours at the hospital.”

  “Adventure, sure,” she says. “Left alone in the middle of nowhere, single mother with two kids and no help.”

  “I’ve been helping you,” I practically screech. “ME! Your daughter! Can’t you see how much I’ve sacrificed for you and Josh?”

  Mom blinks at me, finally noticing her offspring has turned into an enormous green monster. “I know you’ve sacrificed. I tell you all the time how much I appreciate your help.”

  “I know, I know, you don’t know what you’d do without me. But Mom, I’ve seriously got to get a life.”

  She stares at me a moment before her face crumples. “I’m so sorry, Blaze.” She starts crying, and I instantly go from big and green to small and guilty.

  “It’s fine, Mom, honestly. You know I love Josh. And I know you need my help. I was just thinking, I don’t know. Maybe it would be nice to get a part-time job at the mall or something.”

  “Haven’t the guys been giving you money? I know it’s only fair for you to get paid for your time.” Mom searches my face with her teary eyes. “Do you need me to call their parents?”

  “It’s not about the money, Mom,” I say. “It’s about the fact that I need to get out of that smelly minivan and away from the adolescent freak show a few days a week. Maybe hang out with some people my own age. People who have discovered the wonder of deodorant.”

  “Blaze,” Mom chides.

  “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never smelled them after a game.”

  A moment passes. Mom’s frown gives way to the smallest chuckle, and the two of us are on our way to a truce. She tells me she’s going to see what she can do about getting more regular hours, and I promise not to do anything devious behind her back again. The two of us start cleaning up the chips and drinks together and by the time I head up to bed, Hulk happy.

  • • •

  That Monday, the story of Mark and I canoodling in my basement spreads through our small school at supersonic speed.

  When I see Terri in the hallway she says, “So, I hear you and Mark may have started a little something over the weekend?”

  “You’re the one spreading that rumor?”

  She nods, and I smile at her. “Thanks, Ter.” I look around. “You haven’t seen him today, have you? I’d kind of like to know where we stand.”

  “Oh, God, please do not do the whole Amanda, ‘Where do we stand?’ needy thing,” she says. “You, of all people, cannot go turning into some girlie girlfriend with mush-brain.”

  I laugh and hold up my palm. “Scout’s honor. But I would like to know if I’m a friend that happens to be a girl, or if I’m heading toward ‘girlfriend.’” Or if last night was just some limited edition saga that my little brother canceled permanently.

  “Hey, guys.” Amanda walks up and blows superficial kisses to each of us. “That was some party Saturday, huh?”

  “Gee, Mandy,” Terri says. “Aren’t you worried that Stu may not realize you want him? I don’t think you were quite obvious enough.”

  Amanda ignores Terri and confronts me. “Speaking of obvious, Blaze. What is up with you and Mark?”

  I shrug as we move down the hall together. “I told you I liked him.” I turn to face her for emphasis. “Remember?”

  Amanda appears to be trying to remember, but it actually looks like she’s trying way harder than someone who’s forgotten something would look. Terri and I exchange glances. Amanda doesn’t try to channel Evil Empress behavior, but she could maybe use a sibling or two to straighten her ass out. Nothing puts you in your place faster than having to share your house, your parents, and all of your stuff with another kid. Although I have no idea how Terri deals with four sisters. One time I was over at her house and the screaming that went on over a beat-up old hairbrush was enough to make me grateful Josh is a boy.

  “Your Mom is way cooler than I remember her.” Amanda changes the subject.

  I roll my eyes. “All an act. She tried to ground me after everyone left.”

  “Tried?” Amanda asks.

  I shrug. “She needs me to play soccer mom too much to ground me. The two of us are working things out.”

  “But why did she even care that you had that lame party?” Terri asks. “You were doing all the work and clean-up. My mom doesn’t care if we have people over the house when she’s not home, as long as we don’t trash the place.”

  Amanda says, “That’s because with all those sisters of yours running around, nobody ever wants to come to your house.”

  “Very funny,” says Terri.

  “I just want the scoop with Mark.” Amanda pulls on my shoulder. “Are you guys, like, going out or something?” She can’t hide her eagerness. “I’m just asking because Stu and I got along really well and we could, you know, maybe double date or something sometime.”

  With a smile I start telling the two of them about my trip to the basement with Mark, but when I get to the part when I showed him the Silver Surfer #2 and start explaining about Shalla-Bal the two of them groan and change the subject to the latest slutty exploits of Catherine Wiggan. I probably should’ve led with Mark almost kissing me in the dark, I think. Even comic books show the climax of each issue right there on the cover. Of course, our cover would be too dark to even see what was happening. Plus, technically I suppose nothing happened. An almost kiss doesn’t exactly count. My heart flutters thinking about Mark’s hand on the back of my neck.

  His breath on my mouth.

  That wasn’t nothing.

  I jolt at the sound of a male voice calling my name. Mark! He went out of his way to find me. Except that it isn’t Mark. It’s Ryan, the guy who serves as my reminder to never double-cross Amanda again.

  “Welp, gotta dash,” says Terri. “See you in the caf.”

  “Have fun talking to your real boyfriend.” Amanda flashes a blue-white smile and hurries after her. The two of them get immeasurable joy out of my hostage-friendship situation and constantly tell me to just be mean to the guy, already.

  Looking at Ryan’s hopeful face, half covered by his straight black bangs, I know I’ll never have it in me to be mean to him. I’ll just have to ride things out until graduation. “Hey there, Ryan,” I say without enthusiasm.

  “Hey, Blaze,” he says.

  After an awkward silence I turn to go, and Ryan walks alongside me, his feet slapping the hallway floor the whole way to my locker. As I exchange my books for my next class, he lets out a loud and phony-sounding “Oh, yeah!” As if he suddenly just remembered something he’s been meaning to tell me. It’s obviously rehearsed. Since I rarely encourage a two-way conversation, he usually shows up with material ready. Ryan knows lots of odd trivia that can be mildly interesting if you happen to care about whatever topic he’s spouting. He just hasn’t mastered the art of casually working tidbits and facts into normal conversations.

  “Did you know your body is creating and killing fifteen million red blood cells per second?”

  “Wow.” I try to be polite without encouraging him. Hiding my interest isn’t too difficult.

  “Heh heh, yeah. Oops, there go thirty million more.” He chuckles. I shut my locker with a sigh.

  “Good luck with that.” I start moving away.

  “Oh, wait!” Ryan flips his backpack off his wide back and starts rummaging through it.


  Oh, goody, and today he’s brought props. Finally, he pulls out a small stack of comics. “I’m finished reading these if you’re interested.”

  He holds up current-looking issues of Daredevil and Silver Surfer. He knows these are two of my favorite characters but doesn’t get the fact that I prefer vintage issues. I’m a total Stan Lee devotee, love everything he ever worked on. ’Nuff said.

  Ryan fans out the assortment of comics like a plump magician doing some cheesy giant card trick. I really don’t want to encourage him, but it won’t exactly kill me to check out what’s new and happening in comics these days. Maybe just to inform my own sketches. Looking at the offerings displayed in Ryan’s thick hand, I carefully select two of them. I don’t want to act too enthusiastic, but having the comics in my hand inspires a warmer-than-intended smile that makes Ryan blush. I quickly hand him back one of the comics, and it’s as if I’ve thrown cold water in his face. Better to not lead him on. I tell him, “Thank you,” for the lone Daredevil comic I’m clutching. “I’ll get this back to you soon.”

  He starts to protest, but then shrugs, probably realizing that returning the comic will at least mean I’ll have to talk to him again. “Yeah, it’ll be cool to hear what you think of it.”

  A few weeks into our awkward friendship, Ryan stumbled upon the fact that if he can get me talking about comics I’ll go into geek mode and prattle on without meaning to. For some reason, just having me talk at him makes him pathetically happy. He’s gotten more and more knowledgeable over time and actually has pretty good taste in artwork. Or maybe I just think that because he likes my artwork. He happened to see my sketchbook one day, and he fawned over my drawings in a way that wasn’t just sucking up. Or at least I don’t think it was. Well, who am I kidding, he was probably sucking up, but it was nice to have somebody appreciate my talent.