Shatterproof

by Jocelyn Shipley

  “I get that.” Being in this mall has made me want all kinds of stuff I don’t need. That Globe Bantam Cruiser, the latest games, the most expensive brands of clothes and shoes. “Commercialism sucks.”

  “Yeah, it does. But it creates jobs, so it’s not all bad. And now that I’m going to make good money being an extra, I can buy myself some trendy clothes. My parents can’t object if I pay for them myself. How much do you think I’ll make?”

  “Hard to say.” Impossible to tell her she’s not going to make any money. She looks so thrilled, I just can’t. “Enough for some new clothes for sure.”

  “I won’t spend it all on clothes though. I’ll donate some to charity too.”

  I’m such a horrible person, leading her on. But I say, “That’s so nice of you.”

  Tree has stopped crying. He sees the play area ahead and tugs hard on Spring’s hand. “I better let him loose for a bit,” Spring says. “Catch up with you later?”

  “We’ll be at that girly store,” I call as she chases after Tree.

  I like this girl. I really, really like her. I have to tell her I’m not Bo Blaketon.

  But how?

  Chapter Ten

  I head down the mall, looking for Lug. He’s waiting for me outside RadRide. “Glad you got rid of Freakface and the brat,” he says. “They’re bad for business.”

  I don’t answer. I hope Spring heard me say where we’d be. Because I have to talk to her again. I have to confess. Today. In person.

  Lug points at the window display. “Once we’ve signed up more girls, you’ll be able to get that board and those Vans.”

  I stare in the window and feel like the slimeball I am. Before today I was happy with my shabby sneakers. I was happy with my beat-up old longboard at home. But as soon as I went in RadRide, I wanted more. “I don’t think so.”

  “Sure you will,” Lug says. “You could even afford a new shirt.”

  “No, I mean I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want that stuff anymore.”

  Lug starts walking away. “Oh, I get it. You’re feeling guilty for scamming Freakface.”

  He’s right. I am. “Don’t call her that.”

  “Just saying. You could do way better, man.”

  “Don’t say that either.”

  We move along in silence. I have to think of a way out of this mess.

  How can I tell Spring who I really am?

  Maybe I can say the mall made me crazy. Made me want money just like she does. That’s a normal teenage thing, right? To want cool stuff? To want what everybody else has? And that made me make a bad choice. That made me pretend to be a TV star.

  “I’m done,” I finally tell Lug. “I’m going to tell Spring the truth.” I have to. I want to see her again. But just as myself.

  “No way,” Lug says. “Not until we’ve made another couple hundred. Then you can tell Freakface whatever you want.”

  “Shut up!” I punch Lug’s shoulder. Hard.

  “Hey, that hurt!” But instead of punching me back, he says, “Okay. I didn’t want to do this, but you give me no choice.” He pushes me out of the flow of shoppers. We stop by an information sign.

  He pulls his iPad out of his backpack. He boots it up and shows me the screen.

  I see and hear myself pretending to be Bo Blaketon. I see girls giving me money.

  Holy crap! I’m screwed!

  Mostly Lug took the money, acting as my assistant. But a few times he said they should give it to me. That must be when he took these.

  And then I see something worse. He’s also got a video of me signing that girl’s arm as Bo Blaketon. “You idiot! We said no pictures.”

  “No, we said the girls couldn’t take pictures. We never said I couldn’t.”

  How did I not notice what he was doing? I guess I wasn’t really paying attention. Because I never thought my best friend would do that. Apparently he cares more about money than he does about me.

  “You have to delete those,” I say.

  “They’re insurance.”

  “Don’t even think about sending those to my parents.”

  Lug laughs. “I wasn’t planning to. I’m going to post them on YouTube. For Bo Blaketon and his fans to see. Oh, and I’m sure Freakface will be interested too.”

  I grab for his iPad. But he was expecting that and holds on tight. “Relax,” he says. “You help me sign ten more girls, and I’ll delete the videos.”

  Should I trust him to keep his word? Probably not. But what else can I do?

  I mean, I could face telling Spring the truth. I’d find some way to make her forgive me. But if those go online, I’m dead. “I can’t believe you’d do that to me,” I say. “That’s way worse than telling my mom. The whole world will know, and I could get into serious trouble. I could get charged with fraud or something.”

  Lug shrugs and says, “Yup.”

  “Fine,” I say. “But then it’s over. And we’re not friends anymore.”

  “Hey, man. That’s harsh.”

  “Well, it’s on you. Friends don’t blackmail friends.” I remember all the trouble he’s gotten me into over the years. I remember when we were ten and Lug held me underwater at the beach. He thought it was funny, but I almost drowned. And I remember how Mom didn’t want me to hang out with him anymore after the grad-party photo incident.

  Maybe she was right.

  We reach the store called Marlena’s, where we found all the girls this morning. Lug sits on a nearby bench to wait for prey. I stand as far from him as possible, scanning the folks in the mall. What if Spring can’t find us?

  But in a few minutes she and Tree come along. They make quite a pair. She’s definitely noticeable with her handmade clothes, amazing hair and brutal scar. And Tree actually looks a bit like a sapling. He’s skinny, with long arms and legs. His head seems oversized because of all his thick, curly hair.

  Hair the same chestnut brown as Spring’s. Hair that makes you want to touch it. “Hey, guys,” I say. “You found us.”

  Lug gives them a fake smile. Then he’s on his feet as two girls who aren’t exactly pretty exit the store. “Hello there,” he says. “Do you beauties like Shatterproof?” He launches into his sales pitch, and they’re hooked.

  Except this time, Spring reels them in. She ignores the go away look Lug gives her and says, “I just signed up. And I’m so thrilled that Bo wants his show to be inclusive and diverse.”

  They can’t wait to hand her their money. They even pretend they don’t see her scar.

  I can’t believe she’s getting involved. I watch carefully to make sure Lug isn’t taking any more videos. I don’t want Spring to get in trouble because of me.

  Chapter Eleven

  My phone vibrates with another text from Mom. How’s it going? Any updates?

  I have to reply or she’ll get worried. So I say, Race starting. Will b in touch later.

  Then I turn my phone off. It hits me that I don’t care anymore if Mom finds out about today. I know she’ll be mad, but I’ll just have to deal with that.

  What I don’t know is how Spring will react. From what I’ve seen so far, I’m pretty sure she’s going to be super angry. And that’s what I really care about.

  “What time is your dad picking you up?” I ask her. I hope it’s not too soon. Because I can’t tell her the truth until Lug has made as much money as he wants. And after that, it’s going to take some time to explain. Which is going to be tricky because I have to catch my bus by four to make it to the ferry in time.

  “Four o’clock,” she says. “But I might call and beg him to pick us up now.”

  “Please don’t go yet.” I need more time to tell her.

  “I’d really like to stay,” she says. “But I don’t think Tree’s going to last.” We watch him climb around on the bench by the store. Then he jumps off, pretending to fly. She pulls out her phone and starts texting. “I don’t want him to get wild and run away again.”

  “Yeah, I see what you mean.” O
kay, this is it. I can’t keep lying to her. I don’t care what Lug says or does. I made a mistake. I’ll have to take the consequences. “But before you go, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  Spring gives me a worried look. “I can wear makeup on my scar for the filming, if you want. I know how to cover it really well.”

  “Spring, no! Nothing like that. You look fine. It’s just—”

  At that moment Tree bolts into the store, almost crashing into a girl coming out. Spring rushes after him. As she hauls him back, he resists with all his might. “Sorry,” she says to the girl. “He’s harmless, really.”

  “No problem.” The girl notices Spring’s scar and grimaces. “He’s so cute. Love the boots.” Tree is rocking a pair of well-worn Blundstones.

  “Aren’t they great?” Spring says. “Got them at the thrift store for a dollar.”

  “Cool.” The girl clutches her Marlena’s bag. “You know what? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you could totally use some makeup.”

  “Excuse me?” Spring holds Tree close to her.

  “No offense or anything. But you’re really pretty. And that scar is kind of not.”

  “Seriously?” Spring flicks her head so her hair falls away from her face and her scar shows more. “You have a problem with my scar?”

  The girl looks horrified. “Omigod, no, sorry, so sorry. I was just trying to be helpful.” She spins around and scurries away.

  “Hey, why didn’t you sign her up?” Lug wants to know.

  “Forget it,” I tell him. “Sorry about that,” I say to Spring.

  “Why?” she asks. “It’s not your fault some people have no respect for boundaries.”

  “I know, but that was really rude and insensitive.”

  “I’m used to it.” Spring ruffles Tree’s hair. “We’ve had enough of the mall, haven’t we?”

  “Go home,” Tree says. “Right now.”

  Spring checks her phone. “Dad’s coming soon,” she tells him.

  “He is?” I hope I don’t sound too panicked. But I still haven’t told her I’m not Bo Blaketon. And now I’ve lost my nerve. I don’t want to upset her after how mean that girl was.

  “In about twenty minutes,” she says. “Bo, do you ever wish you could go back and change something you’ve done?”

  “Huh?” Does she know the truth? Has she figured it out on her own? Is she giving me a chance to come clean? Because realistically, how could she possibly believe I’m a TV star? “Well, um,” I say, “yeah, of course.” Totally. Like today. “Probably everybody does.”

  “I guess,” she says. “If I could have a do-over, I wouldn’t be so greedy. See, I wanted that stupid marshmallow so bad. My parents don’t let us have much candy, and I couldn’t let it fall in the fire.” Her voice quivers as she speaks. “I wish I’d let that marshmallow burn. Instead of me. And then I wouldn’t have this hideous scar.”

  I can’t help myself. I’ve never hugged a girl in a romantic way before, but I slide my arm around her. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re so beautiful.”

  “Thanks, you’re very sweet,” she says. “And I know I’m beautiful inside. I go to a support group for kids who are disfigured in some way, and I’ve worked through all that. I know I’m more than my scar. I know I’m a better, stronger person for how I’ve suffered.” She pauses and digs around in her purse to find some toys for Tree. “But I still wish it had never happened, you know? I’d like to be normal again.”

  “I get that.” I pull her closer. I want to tell her that’s what my mom says too. But if I start talking about Mom, I might start to cry or something. That wouldn’t be cool.

  “Hey, you guys,” Lug calls, “I could use some help over here.” But he’s doing fine on his own. The girls going in and out of Marlena’s gawk at me and Spring, then sign up.

  “Later,” I tell him. I’ve only got a few more minutes with Spring.

  “So what about you?” she says.

  “What about me?”

  “What do you regret?”

  This would be the time for honesty. But what comes out is, “I regret that you’re leaving so soon.”

  “But we’ll see each other next week, right, Bo? When we’re on set?”

  Can I make something up? Like how I’m not on camera at the same time as the extras? But acting like I’m really Bo Blaketon will keep the lie going. And that will only make things worse when she learns the truth.

  Tell her, tell her, tell her, my brain says. But my voice says, “Yeah. Next week. Of course.”

  Chapter Twelve

  We sit down on the bench together. I keep my arm around Spring. My fingers stroke her amazing hair. She doesn’t object.

  “So anyway,” she says, snuggling close. “You wanted to tell me something?”

  “I did?” Tell her, tell her, tell her. But all I want to do is kiss her.

  “Before that nasty girl with the makeup advice came along,” she says. “You were about to say something important.”

  “Oh, that.” I need to handle this right. I take my arm from her shoulder to help Tree play with his toy cars. We push them up and down on the bench. That buys me some time to think. But no good way of admitting what I’ve done comes to me.

  “Yes, that,” she says. “What did you want to tell me, Bo?”

  “Um, well, see, what I wanted to say was—oh, look, there’s Dakota.”

  “Dakota?’ Spring glances around.

  “Yeah.” I have a sinking feeling. This is not good. “Dakota is Laurence’s older sister.” I shouldn’t have drawn attention to her. But I wanted to distract Spring.

  Dakota is with a guy who is probably her boyfriend. Or one of them. They’re outside the phone store next to Marlena’s.

  I hold my breath. Maybe she won’t see us. Maybe she won’t see Lug in front of Marlena’s.

  But she does.

  The guy goes ahead into the phone store. Dakota calls to Lug, “Hey, loser! What’s up?” She saunters over to where we are.

  Lug follows her, acting all casual. “Nothing,” he says. “Just hanging out.” He’s a master at staying cool. He doesn’t look or sound guilty.

  I’m starting to sweat. I’m tempted to run. But I don’t want to leave Spring.

  Dakota stands there with her hands on her hips, staring at me. “Thought you said you didn’t have a girlfriend?”

  There’s nothing I can do to save this situation.

  But I have to try. “Hey, Dakota,” I say. “This is my new friend, Spring.” I sling my arm around her shoulder again. “Oh, and her little brother, Tree.”

  “Really.” Dakota raises her eyebrows. “You work fast.”

  Spring says brightly, “Have you signed up yet?” I can feel Spring admiring how good Dakota looks. I want to warn her that Dakota’s not nice. That this isn’t going to end well. But I can’t find the words. I’m too scared.

  Dakota squints at Spring’s scar. “Signed up for what?”

  “To be an extra on Shatterproof. They’re filming in North Van next weekend. Laurence and Bo are signing up extras.” Spring stops when she sees the surprised look on Dakota’s face. “But I guess you already knew all that?”

  “Sure, but not the details,” Dakota says. “I don’t work in the industry, and Laurence never tells me anything. He wouldn’t want his big sister to be part of the show.”

  So Spring fills her in.

  I sit there shuddering while she gushes on and on. This can’t be happening.

  Dakota listens like she believes every word. “Omigod,” she says when Spring’s done. “That’s incredible!”

  “I know, right?” Spring says. “It’s such a great chance to be on TV and also make some money.”

  Dakota takes her time breaking the news. First she checks her phone again. Then she straightens her shirt and pushes the sleeves back. And then she says, all sweet and innocent, “Yeah, but see, there’s only one problem.”

  Spring looks puzzled. “There is?” She pic
ks up a toy car Tree dropped and hands it back to him. “What’s that?”

  “What’s that?” Tree repeats. But nobody laughs.

  Dakota points one of her long black nails at Lug. “Laurence over there is not a production assistant.” Then she stabs me in the chest with her talon. “And this guy? He’s not Bo Blaketon.”

  “Yes, he is.” Spring doesn’t get it yet. She turns to face me and says, “You are, right?”

  I don’t answer. The words won’t come out. And I can’t look her in the eye.

  “Bo?” she says. “You did tell me that’s who you are.”

  “Uh, no,” I mumble. “I never actually told you that.” I point at Lug like Dakota did, minus the long ugly fingernail. “He did.”

  Lug just stands there smirking. Like he can’t wait to see how this plays out.

  “Are you kidding?” Spring says. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was,” I say.

  “Sorry. But no,” Dakota says. “He’s cute and all, but he’s definitely not Bo Blaketon.”

  “Then who is he?” Spring sounds like she’s going to cry.

  Dakota delivers her punch line. “He’s just my dorky little brother’s dorky friend Nate.”

  “Is that true?” Spring asks me.

  “Yeah, it’s true.”

  Spring moves away from me. She stands, gathers Tree’s toys and takes his hand.

  “Sorry to burst your bubble,” Dakota says to her. “But you shouldn’t believe everything guys tell you.” She leans in and studies Spring’s scar. “Oh, and one other tip? With a face like that, wear makeup.”

  There’s a beat of silence while her words sink in. I’ve no idea what to do or say.

  Then Dakota says to Lug, “Wait till our parents find out what you’ve been playing at.”

  “Aw, come on, Dak,” he whines. “You don’t have to tell them.” His earlier confidence is gone. Now he just sounds worried.