“Oh my god. Do you think he knows?” I exhale and break into a cold sweat. I’m high as fuck in front of the VP who just finished proving I wasn’t a bad guy.
Dave’s doubled over, splitting a gut. “Oh, dude, he knows.”
“No, I’m sure he doesn’t know. We were fine—Dekkie handled it like a pro.” Mitch relaxes.
“Oh yeah! Like a pro! Lines? I don’t have lines. I do backflips, remember?”
“I guess I was thinking of the play.” Wait a minute, what play? I am so stoned.
“Oh my fucking god, dumbass.” Dave smacks me on the back of the head with a soggy Montreal Canadiens mitten. He actually wears mittens his grandmother knit him. You’ve gotta respect that in a guy.
“I still don’t think he knew. Anyway, he likes you, Declan.” And since Mitch is the expert on being high and getting away with it, we leave it at that and enjoy what’s left of our buzz and our walk.
Twenty-Two
We make a quick detour for hot chocolate and a box of fifty Timbits at Tim Hortons and still get to the dance in lots of time for Dave to work his magic with Sophie. The Ghana girls are selling chips and drinks and chocolate-covered almonds under Dave’s butterflies. I scan for Leah at their table, but she’s not there.
I’ve never seen so many half-closed, bloodshot eyes and stumbling kids in one place before. How’d these people get in here? I thought teachers checked, but what do I know? A lot of the girls are wearing revealing clothes and heels that have to be about four inches high.
The three of us make our way to the coat check. It’s a rule: no coats in the gym. Leah’s working behind the table, handing out numbers and hanging stuff up.
Mitch jerks his head in her direction. “Hey, Dec—”
“I know, shithead. Shut up.”
“…low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low…”
“Apple Bottom Jeans” floats out of the gym. Dave can’t help moving to it. I’m wondering if it’s possible to hate this song any more than I did in elementary school, when I notice Little Miss Perfect doing her own very not Little Miss Perfect interpretation of the lyrics with her shoulders and her hips, just like in the music video.
“…baggy sweat pants…” I feel my face get hot.
Finally, it’s our turn in line. I nod and hand my jacket to her. I’m sure I’m bright red, and I hope she doesn’t notice. She smiles and says hi.
As we’re walking away, Mitch keeps tipping his head to the side and batting his eyelashes at me. “Hi! Hi! Hi!” He makes it sound all breathy and sexy.
I punch him in the arm. Hard. “Stop it.”
“Sorry. Geez.” He brushes himself off, pretends to straighten his shirt. He’s actually pretty handsome when you clean him up. He realizes I’m smiling at him. “What?”
“Nothin’. I just love ya, man. Thanks for sharing before. I needed a good laugh.”
“No problemo, bro.” He fist-bumps me.
Dave disappears with some of the variety-show kids, on the prowl for Sophie. Mitch and I wander into the gym.
Wow. I haven’t been to a school dance since I was in elementary. It’s a pretty big deal. A few couples are on the floor, and groups of girls are dancing together. A lot of kids are just standing on the dance floor talking, swaying back and forth. The lights are synced with the music. It takes a minute for our ears to adjust to the volume. Talking is out of the question. We plant ourselves against the wall by the door with our hands in our pockets. Wallflowers. At least we match the spring theme.
The DJ puts on “Thrift Shop” by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis, and a whole bunch of people rush in to dance and sing along. Leadership students are working the crowd, trying to get everyone onto the floor. I’m thinking this might be a good time for me and Mitch to split when I see Leah moving across the dance floor with one of her leadership friends.
Her friend turns one way through the crowd. Leah keeps coming toward us. I’m just about to deke when she sees me and Mitch standing by the wall. Her eyes get big, and she starts to smile at us—a sneaky, troublemaking smile—and I just know she’s going to try to get me to dance. I glance at the door, and she shakes her head. Our eyes lock. She’s coming over.
Just as she crooks her finger at me, Mitch notices what’s going on, smiles his biggest You’re fucked! smile and shoves me toward her onto the dance floor. I shoot him a much-deserved finger behind my back.
I don’t dance. I just don’t. I like listening to music. But this is my worst nightmare. She pulls me by the hand until we’re right in the middle of everyone, then turns around to face me. I know what I’m supposed to do, but I freeze. Leah starts dancing; this is fun for her.
She motions with her arms and mouths, Dance! Even on the dance floor she’s bossy! She’s such a good dancer, and her body is amazing. I’m going to look ridiculous next to her if I try to dance, but I can’t just stand here either.
I start to move to the music a little bit, and she flashes me a big smile and a thumbs-up. She must think I’m a loser. She takes my hands. More—she wants me to move more! “Go crazy!” she says and dances like she’s really into the music.
I throw my head back and start to laugh. “Noooo!”
We’re both laughing when the music changes again. After a few seconds I recognize it. A slow song.
“…and the saints we see are all made of gold…”
Leah steps toward me and stands on her tiptoes to say something. She has to hold on to my arms to keep her balance. “Do you want to stay?” I feel her breath against my ear.
I look around us. Some couples are dancing with their arms around each other. A lot of kids are just standing in one place, waving their arms over their heads in time to the music. What do I do? Wave my arms or—
I don’t have to decide. Leah reaches up and puts her hands on my shoulders. I just stand there. Totally freaked out. I don’t really know what to do. So I do nothing! Just stand there like a dolt. She takes my hand and places it behind her back. I put both arms around her and roll my eyes. But she’s smiling up at me.
I don’t know how to describe what this feels like. Electricity zings through my body wherever she touches me. I almost can’t stand it, being so close to her. It’s not like sitting at the same table going over notes or a textbook. Her body is soft, and she smells so good. She lays her head against my chest. I’m honestly afraid I’m going to pass out, but at the same time I’m happy. Kind of like butterflies—Spring Fling butterflies.
Where’s Dave? I wonder. I scan the crowd for him, which is easy because I’m looking over almost everybody’s heads. I actually spot him, and he’s looking at me, a big grin on his face. He and Sophie are dancing, if you can call it that; they’re barely moving. He gives me a thumbs-up behind her back. He’s resting his cheek on the top of her head. It gives me the idea to do the same thing.
I lean my head down, but I can’t actually reach Leah because there’s such a big height difference. Without thinking I pull her a little closer to make it work. It seems like such a natural thing to do, but now I’m afraid of how she’s going to react. Will she pull away? She snuggles into my chest. Oh my god! I can’t believe this. My body’s going crazy! Things are happening. I hope she doesn’t notice, because I also don’t want her to think I’m a total jerk.
Relax, dickhead. Enjoy this.
“…it’s where my demons hide, it’s where my demons hide…”
We sway back and forth to the song, like we’re one body. I realize she’s following me, which means that without meaning to, I’m leading. She’s letting my body tell hers what to do. This amazes me.
So many times, sitting in her dining room, I’ve been tempted to touch her hair. Those little curls at the base of her neck. I wonder what she’d do if I did that now. I slide my hand up her back until it reaches her neck and I’m holding her long, curly hair. She tilts her head back and gazes right into my eyes, smiling, a peaceful look on
her face.
She actually looks happy! Dancing with me!
Then, very gently with her fingertips, she strokes my cheek where it’s black and blue. She shakes her head, and I touch her hand with mine, pressing her fingers to my face. Her touch goes right inside me.
The song finishes, and we stand together holding each other for a couple more seconds. It seems like neither one of us wants to stop. She finally steps back, and I realize her leadership friend is standing beside us. Leah has to go.
She squeezes my hand and mouths, Thank you. I hook my fingers around hers as our hands slip apart. She takes a few steps back and smiles, then turns around and walks away, hips moving to the music.
I think I’m going to die. In fact, if I died now, I’d die happy. I can’t believe what just happened!
Mitch and I can see that Dave’s going to be busy with Sophie for a while. We leave the gym to hang around outside with the smokers. The bass beat of “Don’t Stop the Party” throbs from the gym, providing us with background music on the street in front of the school. It’s the same group of smokers as always, but the atmosphere outside is different. The girls are dressed up, teetering on their heels, acting older than they do during the day. The guys are nervous and self-conscious. I take out my pack of smokes. Mitch has his lighter ready. Everyone has their arms wrapped around themselves to stay warm. We had to leave our jackets at the coat check.
“I told you, after we got caught in the gym that day. She’s cute.” He exhales from his first long drag. I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. “Obviously, you think so too.”
“Obviously.”
“That was pretty hot and steamy.” He pretends he’s grinding on an imaginary girl for effect.
“Oh, fuck off, man. We danced, okay? Can’t I dance with someone without it being a big deal?” But the truth is, I’d do the same thing if it was him or Dave.
“Ah, no, bro. Not her. Not like that. You were into her, and she was into you. I’m not the only one who noticed.”
I shoot a Really? look at him, but I’m afraid to speak.
“Yeah, her friends were watching and texting.” He imitates girls with their heads bent over their phones, speed texting with their thumbs. “I’d be surprised if you’re not on Facebook already. She digs you.”
“Probably nothing’s going to happen anyway.” Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I still can’t believe it did.
“You should totally ask her out.”
“Yeah right.”
“Seriously. She likes you. She’d say yes.”
At this point, it’s going to take all my guts to show up for tutoring next week. Chicks don’t know that rejection is what guys fear most in the world.
Theresa and two of her friends stumble out of the school, yelling back at someone inside. They head over, piss drunk. My danger radar peaks at full volume.
“Hi, Dekkie.”
I hate it when she calls me that, like we hang out.
“Hey, Terry,” I say.
Mitch raises his eyebrows. He’s not drunk, so he hears the mocking tone in my voice.
She’s having trouble staying upright on her stupid shoes. “Fuckin’ bitch Peters kicked us out…too drunk. Bird-neee puked in the bathroom. Well, actually, she kind of puked all over the bathroom.”
Charming. One look at Brittany’s bugged-out eyeballs and anyone can see she’s not just drunk. There’s mascara running down her cheeks, and she’s ghostly under the streetlight. She could easily be mistaken for a zombie.
Good ol’ Mr. Peters, keeping us all safe.
“Brittany looks like she should be home in bed.”
“We’re walking over there. You guys wanna come party?”
Mitch sticks his tongue out and hangs himself from an imaginary noose. Then he makes a gun with his thumb and forefinger and mimes shooting himself in the head.
“Thanks, but we’re heading back to Dave’s after this.” Under my breath I add, “We have to help him practice lines.”
Mitch loses it, and Theresa realizes he’s there too. She slinks up to him like she’s flirting. What the fuck?
“Hey, Mitch, you have anything to share?” Of course. She wants to know if he has weed. He pulls his pockets inside out to show he’s dry. I know he’s lying, but obviously he wants her to get lost. She sighs and turns away. Mitch brushes fake cooties off his sleeve.
While she’s smoking her cigarette, she keeps asking for a hug, saying she’s cold. If Mitch rolls his eyes any farther back in his head, they’re going to get stuck there. Because she pesters me, I put my arms around her for a few minutes to warm her up, but she takes it as a sign that I want to make out. She actually tries to plant one on my lips and grabs the inside of my thigh. I have to peel her off and push her away. She gives me the finger behind her back as she and her drunk friends wobble off to put Brittany to bed.
“That’s a hot mess,” Mitch says.
I shake my head. “Let’s go back in. I’m cold.”
When the dance is over, Dave intercepts us, squinting under the fluorescent lights at his phone screen. “My dad just texted. He’s waiting outside.” His clothes are all messed up like he’s slept in them, and there’s a big red hickey on his neck. Lucky for him, Mitch doesn’t see it.
Leah is busy at the coat check, acting like nothing happened. Cool as a cucumber. My legs are like marshmallows. She hands me my jacket, and I break into a cold sweat.
I say, “Bye,” and she fakes a smile and nods.
Just get me out of here.
Twenty-Three
My cigarette’s lit. I like the view of the soccer field from up here on the bleachers. It reminds me of playing with Stephan and the rest of the team. Most of the field is still covered in snow, but bits of brown grass are poking through around the edges. A few more days like today and it’ll all be gone. Wet dirt with a hint of melting dog shit. It smells like spring.
Finally, a chance to be alone. And think. It’s only been two days since the dance, six days since I saw Dad at Kate’s house, five days since my visit with the police, three weeks since I started tutoring, but I honestly can’t remember what it felt like to be me before.
Like, fuck! I just went to a meeting to see if I want to be a soccer coach! Me! I still can’t believe Coach Lavoie called me and asked me to come. He remembered bumping into me at the pharmacy. I can’t believe he didn’t try to forget. I’m not exactly a model athlete, unless there’s a sport for skinny smokers. But his message said, “Sunday, one o’clock. I ’ope to see you there.” I can’t believe how the same he is.
I’m glad I decided to come. I don’t know if I’ll sign up to coach but, like I told him, I’ll think about it. It wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be. No one cared that I’ve never coached before. They were just happy I showed up.
I have to undo my jacket, it’s so warm sitting here in the sun. I’m glad the soccer meeting ended early. I’m nervous about my big lunch date.
I can’t stop thinking about the dance. I can’t stop thinking about Leah.
So Dave and Sophie are officially “going out.” No wonder Mitch and I couldn’t find them at the dance. It didn’t occur to us to look in the math-hallway stairwell. On second thought, it’s probably a good thing we didn’t. I wonder how their date went last night, if that’s what you call it when your dad drives you both to the movie theater.
What do you call it when you’re sitting on the bleachers in the sun, waiting for your dad, who’s been a total stranger for five years, to take you for lunch?
Probably a big mistake.
Yesterday Sergeant Lefebvre stopped by our place, told us everything checked out with my fingerprints and where I was the night the golf course got trashed. Of course, I wasn’t surprised my fingerprints didn’t match anything, but it bugged me that Mom hadn’t been 100 percent sure, that she even wondered if I did it. I may fly pretty well on
my own, but I still need her on my side.
Now the hunt is really on for Seamus. He’s a fugitive, which makes me think of crime shows and cowboys racing away on horses in the Wild West. Lefebvre asked me if I still had his card and reminded me to call him if I hear from Seamus.
It’s burning a hole in my pocket.
I didn’t want to take the blame for the golf course, but I don’t know if I’m ready to turn my own brother in. I can’t help wondering about Robbie and the Taurus and where the hell they are.
My watch says 2:05 now. I told Dad the soccer meeting would be over by 2:00. I hope he’s not expecting me to talk, because I probably won’t.
Why did I let Mom talk me into phoning him? This is totally her fault. They’ve been speaking a lot lately because of this thing with me and Seamus, and she said he really wanted to talk to me about what was happening with the cops. So I did what she wanted and some other dude picked up the phone, and I called him Dad. Fucking embarrassing. But when Dad finally came to the phone, he was happy. He said he knew it wasn’t easy for me to call, and he appreciated it. I told him about Lefebvre’s visit, like I was supposed to.
“Thank goodness they cleared you,” he said. “You must feel a lot better.” He sounded like he meant it. Then he told me how bad he felt about Seamus. He sounded like he meant that too.
He called our first meeting a disaster. No shit. He wanted another chance, so I agreed to go for lunch. This time I’ll try not to smash my teeth into his head.
Where the fuck is he? He’s eight minutes late, and my cigarette is officially done. I give the butt a kick and watch it roll from step to step and land on the ground below.
I’m freaked out about being with him in public. What if someone sees us? I don’t want people at school to start asking questions.
I’m nervous.
No. I’m fucking nervous.
I hate waiting.
I’ll think about Leah dancing and the way her head felt against my chest, her hand on my face, the way she smiled at me. I’d rather be going on a lunch date with her…or maybe not. This kind of thing can make you crazy.
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