Kevin was riding shotgun in my POS Jeep and going on about whether some junior girl I barely knew had gotten a boob job over the summer when I finally saw Annika. She had on shorts and a scoop-neck black shirt that showed off the bones of her neck. She leaned over to unzip a backpack that rested at her feet and I followed the line of her bare legs, which were even better than I imagined. I rolled my window down.
“Annika!” I called. She looked up and a small smile tugged at her lips.
“Where’s your Mohawk, Bumble?”
I scrubbed my hand over my newly shaven head. “Apparently, it makes me look like an asshole. And it’s Beez.”
“Oh, of course, that’s right. Well, I hope you didn’t shave it on my account,” she said, but I thought I saw a spark of interest in her eyes. Hoped it was a spark of interest. I switched off the car radio and hung my elbow out the window.
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m a swimmer.” I didn’t mention that last year I sported the Mohawk for most of the swim season and didn’t go completely bald until regionals.
“Huh. I thought swimming was more of a white guy sport?”
“Whoa. Did you just say that . . . out loud?”
She tilted her head. “Yeah. Feel free to tell me I’m wrong, but I’ve seen the team pictures in the gym. And I’ve watched a lot of college sports. It’s pretty white.”
“Well,” I said, trying to keep my eyes from zeroing in on her tan legs, “I’m half-white and I play basketball sometimes on the weekends so I don’t think I’m going to lose my NAACP card.”
“I don’t know. They’re kinda strict about that sort of stuff,” she said, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Did you come from the South? ’Cause that racist shit doesn’t really fly up here.”
She flashed me a smile and leaned over to root in her backpack for something. I shifted higher in my seat to peek down her shirt, but she put her hand over the scooped neck and blocked my view.
“No,” she said, and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. “I earned the right to make sweeping generalizations about black people after dating the varsity center at my old school. He was six nine. And vain as hell. I practically had to beat down the entire cheerleading squad to get to him after a game. It was no small feat, believe me.”
Kevin elbowed me and snorted. “Holy shit, I like this girl.”
“Yeah,” I called to her, “I’m not sure you’ll be able to play that card here. Sweeping generalizations don’t really go over too well. You’re gonna have to start from ground zero. Most people are just gonna see you as a mouthy white girl.” I grinned and stared as her tongue licked her bottom lip. Crap. Did all girls know that move?
She put the sunglasses on her head to hold her hair back. “Well, I’ll let you know if I’m interested in reinitiation. In the meantime, looks like you’re backing up traffic. You better run along.”
I looked into my rearview mirror and saw a silver Audi idling behind me. A girl was leaning into the driver’s-side window, arms stacked beneath her boobs, probably trying to call attention to her cleavage. My guess: The driver wasn’t in that big of a hurry.
“Where’s your new house?” I asked. Weak and obvious stalling, but I didn’t want Annika to walk away yet.
“On Harrison, above Studio Pink.”
“Across from Buzz Café? I know that place. Where’d you move from?” I asked. My eyes shifted to check the car behind me; the leaning girl now had her tongue in the driver’s mouth. Yeah, I had some time.
“California. Listen, I’d love to play twenty questions with you. Really. But I’ve got someplace to be.” Her eyes darted to the blue minivan that had pulled into the opposite side of the school lot. She slung the backpack onto her shoulder.
“Is that your mom?” I asked.
“That’s good deductive reasoning, Ben. I’m glad the removal of all your body hair hasn’t affected your brain cell count.”
Kevin smacked my arm and chuckled. “This girl’s gonna be a pain in your ass.”
I shoved him and turned back to her. “Well, I didn’t actually shave my whole body, but if you’re volunteering your services . . .”
“Pass,” she said, and took a step toward her mom’s car before swiveling back to me. “But if you want, I’ll be home later. My standards are pretty high, but I’m willing to give you a shot.” Then she walked the rest of the way to her mom’s van without once looking back at us.
It took me a second to absorb what she’d said, but then I looked at Kevin with a huge grin on my face.
“Straight shooter,” I said, and flipped the radio back on. “Nice.”
“Yep,” Kevin agreed. “That’s your kind of chick. Although, if she’s not feeling you, let me know. I might go for her.”
“I don’t think so. She’s got way too much personality for you, my friend. And I’d venture to guess her boobs are real.”
Kevin laughed. “You’ll have to let me know later.”
I shifted the Jeep into drive and wore a goofy smile all the way to the KwikMart.
•••
A woman with crazy curly hair opened the door when I got to Annika’s after swim practice that day.
She crossed her arms and looked me up and down with a small scowl on her face. I blushed and shifted from one foot to the other. Meeting parents sucks.
“You must be Ben?”
I nodded my head. “Nice to meet you. Is Annika here?”
She signaled me inside and directed me to sit on a bright purple couch that smelled a little like bubble bath. The walls were painted orange and there were giant pillows in all colors thrown around the room. I’d apparently walked inside a bag of Skittles.
“You guys unpacked pretty fast, Mrs. . . . um?”
“Yeah, I hate boxes. And you can call me Ms. Taylor, although I prefer to be called Gayle so I’m not constantly reminded of my ex-husband. Do you go to school with Ani or did she pick up a stray at the 7-Eleven?”
I opened my mouth to say something but was interrupted by a girlie laugh. Annika stood in the doorway; light from the living room windows haloed her, and my breath stopped for a second.
“Mom, I don’t pick up strays. I checked him out. He’s clean. He swims. His dad works in advertising and his mom is a librarian.”
“Really?” Her mom looked at me.
I redirected my attention back to Gayle and nodded. I tapped my feet and slumped into the couch. Tiny beads of sweat formed on my bald head. I hated when so much attention was directed at me. But I was psyched Annika checked me out. Did she ask Kevin?
“Yeah, and he’s up for some big swim scholarship at Iowa,” Annika said, and gave me a wink.
“Good for you, Ben. Best of luck,” Gayle said, and her shoulders lowered a fraction.
What the heck kind of parental small talk was this? It sort of felt like I was on a reality TV dating show and my stats were flashing beneath me. The whole thing might’ve bothered me, but I was too distracted by the way Annika’s hair fell in two braids that rested right above the black bra showing through her white shirt. Black bra. Yeah.
Gayle must have suddenly noticed too. She shook her head. “Is that my shirt?”
Annika shrugged. “Maybe. It was in my laundry pile.”
“You know it’s mine. And you’re supposed to wear a camisole underneath it, not a black bra.”
The right side of Annika’s mouth tilted up. “Huh. Really?”
“Subtle, Ani. You’ve got two minutes to put a sweatshirt on or change into a different shirt. Jesus. Don’t make me play the overprotective mother.”
I stared at the ceiling. Every part of my face felt like it was on fire. Were these two seriously having this conversation in front of me? My mom would go ape shit if she were in the room.
I rubbed my hands on my knees and tried to figure out a wa
y to diffuse the awkwardness. “Ani. Cute nickname.”
“Yeah, unfortunately Beez was already taken as an option so I had to go with the far less clever shortening of my given name.”
“Ani,” Gayle said, and pointed to the door, “the shirt. Now.”
Ani smiled at the two of us and shrugged. I gaped at both of them. Weirdest mother-daughter relationship I’d ever seen. Ani adjusted her braids and stuck her tongue out at us. She flounced out of the room.
Gayle pursed her lips. “Sorry. She’s trying to get a rise out of me. Both of us, I guess. It’s not very often she likes someone enough to invite them over.”
I bit back a grin. So this was what zero to sixty felt like. I’d been right about Ani being direct. And she liked me. I let out a breath of relief. She liked me. Thank Christ for that. I wasn’t really interested in hooking up with a girl who was looking for a bunch of riders on her own train.
“You like her too?” Gayle asked.
“Yeah, I mean we just met, but she’s different.”
Gayle laughed. “Yes. And special. And very honest. You’re lucky. Don’t mess it up.”
How was I supposed to respond to that? I nodded and directed my gaze to the painting on the wall behind her. It had a bright blue background and showed a thin girl in front with her mouth open and tears in her eyes. From behind, half a dozen orange, green, and purple arms hugged her.
“Did you make that?”
“No. Ani did after her dad left. She’s a pretty talented artist.”
Ani walked back into the room and my eyes went right to her chest. New shirt. Black, like the bra I no longer could see. Damn. She pulled on a hoodie and zipped it all the way to her chin then pulled the hood strings so we could barely see her face. She looked like one of those Teletubbies.
“Better?” she asked her mom.
“Better,” Gayle said. “But you two aren’t going into your bedroom. Come on. Let’s make Ben something to eat.”
Gayle walked out of the room and Ani came to the couch and pulled me up. She unzipped the hoodie and threw it to the side. She leaned toward me and for one heart-stopping second I thought she might kiss me but instead, she sniffed.
“Chlorine?”
“Yeah, I was in the pool before I came over.”
“Obviously. Next time, take a longer shower. Or put some lotion on. You’re too chemically to kiss.”
My head spun. Kiss. She’d asked someone about me. And invited me over. And liked me. And was maybe going to kiss me. And . . . whoa.
She took my hand and dragged me into the kitchen, where her mom was cutting up fruit and dropping it into a blender. Annika flopped onto a stool and licked her lips. The lips that almost kissed me. My mouth went dry. Crap. This girl was going to chew me up and spit me out.
Her mom left after the smoothies were made and I shifted too much in my seat.
“So swim team, huh?” Ani asked.
“Yeah. Well, it’s club right now. Official swim team doesn’t start until November, but if you want to stay competitive, you do club.”
“Huh. Sounds like you have everything worked out for you.”
I shrugged. “I guess. And you paint?”
“Yep. Ever since Mom started carting me around to her classes when she couldn’t find a babysitter. Sometimes I make jewelry too.” She fingered the pendant on her necklace. “This one’s mine.”
I leaned forward and tried to keep my eyes on the pendant and not on the way her shirt cut across her collarbone and bunched out in front. “It looks like a tree.”
“Yeah. It’s a tree of life. It’s sort of this symbol to remind me how we’re all connected. How something that one person does can change the outcome for so many people. For good or for bad.”
“That’s deep.”
She snorted. “Sorry. You’ve been in the pool. I don’t mean to tax your brain after all that exercise.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass. I’m not an idiot. I even pass my classes on occasion.”
She patted my head. “Of course you do. Don’t get huffy.” Her hand slid down to the counter between us. I wanted to take it in mine, I wanted her to touch me again, but I choked. This wasn’t how to get a girlfriend. I was supposed to flirt or compliment her or something. But she didn’t seem to be looking for any of that.
The space between us became comfortably silent. She scraped her stool next to mine so her knees were pressed into my thigh.
“Tree of life, huh?” I said, leaning closer to her. Not too much but enough.
“Yep.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “Everyone’s connected.”
3
Although I’d promised myself never to deal with Morgan again, like a wuss I picked Kevin up and headed to her party on Friday night. I hadn’t asked Ani if she was going to be there, but I figured she’d show if most of the school knew about it.
“You smell kind of good,” Kevin said as he hopped into my Jeep. “Big plans for the night?”
I shrugged.
“Are you meeting Ani?” Kevin continued.
“We didn’t set up anything specific.”
“Probably should have, dude. You know the vultures are gonna swarm once they get a load of those legs.”
I whacked him on the shoulder.
“Just saying,” he muttered, and shoved me back.
Morgan’s street was full of cars, and I guessed we had maybe a half hour before someone called the cops. The front door to her house was open and the living room was packed with people dancing to music pouring through mounted speakers. So the rumor about Jack’s band playing was a lie. Figured. All the furniture was pushed against the peach-colored walls, and through the sliding glass door in the back I could see a bunch of guys outside doing beer bongs. I made a beeline for the keg in the kitchen as soon as we walked in, but Morgan must have been looking out for me, because she blocked my path and wrapped her arms around me the second I entered the room.
“Beezus,” she slurred, and raked her fingernails over my head. I shook her off and wiped away her claw marks on my scalp.
“Hey, Morgan.”
“I was hoping you’d come.” She looked at me with slightly drunk and embarrassingly needy eyes. The kitchen was flooded with too much light, showing exactly how much makeup Morgan had caked on before the party.
“Yeah, I’m meeting someone.” Not exactly true, but I hoped it would cut off any further attention from her.
“Really? Who?”
Crap. I hated this, had been dreading it for too long. “Look, Morgan, did you need something?”
She blinked and twisted her long brown hair in her fingers. “I thought maybe we could talk. You know?” She looked at me hopefully. “About us.”
I rubbed my hand over my head. I should have known I wasn’t going to get out of this conversation if I showed up at her party. Stupid-ass Kevin and his promises of a thousand people. Damn good thing I’d practiced my speech in the shower.
“Morgan. Listen. You and I don’t really work together. I mean, you’re nice and all, but we aren’t really a good fit.” For the love of God, let that be enough.
She opened her mouth, but then peered over my shoulder. I turned around to see that Ani was standing a few feet behind me with a smirk on her face and her arms crossed. Her legs seemed even longer in short cutoffs. And her face was beautiful and fresh, even in the shitty fluorescent lights. I turned back to Morgan.
“I gotta go,” I said, and moved away before she could say anything else.
I steered Ani out of the kitchen and pointed toward the front door. She waved me ahead and followed me out of the house. Voices and music from the party carried through the open windows.
“Leaving a trail of broken hearts behind you?” she asked as soon as the door was shut and we’d stepped onto the front sidewalk.
“O
h, Christ, don’t you start on me. Girls can be so dramatic.”
Ani howled. “Oh, Beez, that’s priceless. That poor girl just wants you to talk to her.”
“She’s an ex who screwed around with one of the other guys on the swim team when I was dating her. She was drunk, but still.”
Ani nodded and sat down on the edge of the sidewalk, patting the spot on her right. “Aha. Tricky. Maybe she’s trying to make amends?”
I slid next to her and put my elbows on my knees. “Maybe. Probably. It’s a little late, though. It wasn’t exactly the smoothest breakup.”
“Smooth breakups? Have you had many of those?”
“No. Actually, Morgan was the first girl I ever dated.” Only girl, until Ani, who I wasn’t dating. Maybe.
She slid her hands behind her and leaned back. “She broke your heart?”
“Nah. I mean, I might have said that last year, but really, it was a stupid first crush.”
“First girlfriend. Hmm . . . I’m surprised. Not that I had you pegged as a player, but you’re kind of the whole package. It’s weird no one would’ve grabbed you by now.” I was sort of getting used to the strange honesty of Ani’s conversations but still didn’t have the first clue what I was supposed to say back.
“Uh . . . thanks?”
“You’re welcome.” Ani shifted forward. “So how come you came to her party?”
My face flushed and I looked out into the darkness.
Ani elbowed me. “You were hoping I’d show up, weren’t you? That’s sort of sweet.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
“So let’s take a walk,” she said, and pulled me up from the sidewalk. “The cops’ll be here soon anyways, so we might as well hit the streets.”
“Hit the streets? Is that Cali gang talk?”
“Hardly. We lived in a suburb of San Diego. Not exactly gangbanger territory.”
Fault Line Page 2
