“No.”
She pulled her book even closer to her face, trying to ignore the way her eyes stung. After a moment, Jay heard her mother make an indecipherable sound. Then she turned out the light and got on her own futon with a loud rustle of the covers so Jay couldn't even read anymore.
Jay set down her book, staring up at the ceiling, biting down on her lower lip which had started to tremble. There was a tight, pinching feeling in her gut like someone had grabbed her on the inside and squeezed. Am I ugly?
Chapter Eight
2000
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Her mom wasn't around when Jay's alarm went off for school. That was unusual. Her mom liked to sleep in after a night of dancing, calling it her “beauty rest.” Jay couldn't remember the last time her mother had gotten up earlier than she had. Maybe she had to go grocery shopping. Jay got dressed in embroidered jeans and a peasant blouse she'd bought at a thrift shop. The blouse had been loose and a little too long when she'd gotten it, so unlike a lot of the tops her mother had bought for her more recently, it still fit.
She slipped all of her homework into her backpack, along with the copy of The Last Unicorn and hopped on the bus to Mission High School. Most of the people on the bus seemed normal but there was a guy with bad BO who was gripping one of the steel rails and shouting. Jay buried her nose in her book and studiously ignored him until it was time to get off at her stop.
Her friends were standing out in front of the school in a cluster. Kristine was applying watermelon Lip Rageous push-up balm while Leah and Amy chatted. Amy was leaning on the handle of her rolling backpack, which always made her look like a little commuter on her way to an airport. They all turned when they saw her coming.
“Jay!” said Kristine. “We missed you last night!”
“How was bowling?” Jay asked, trying not to sound too bitter.
“Oh my God, it was so fun,” said Amy. “We played two rounds and some boys from our school showed up in the second. Juniors. Danny Ramos was there. He asked about you.”
“He did? What did he say?”
“Nothing much. He was just like, 'Oh, where's Jay? Isn't she usually with you?'”
“Where were you, anyway?” Kristine pressed, capping the lip balm.
“I told you. My stupid mom had to work late, so she took me with her.”
“Here.” Leah pressed something into her hand. “I got you a sticker from the machine.”
It was one of those skateboarding stickers people liked to slap on their binders at school. This one showed a little stick figure collapsed on a sofa with the caption “I Couch Myself.”
“Are you saying I'm lazy?” Jay asked dryly, peeling off the backing and putting it on.
“Yeah,” said Amy, rolling her eyes. “That's you, Jay. You're like the epitome of lazy.”
“It's pronounced like 'I pity me,'” said Jay. “Like, epitome the fool who says it wrong.”
“You're such a nerd. Epitome for being friends with you in the first place.”
The four of them walked to class, Kristine splitting off to go to Geometry II while the rest of them went to Spanish I. Jay sat at her desk, calmly conjugating a list of verbs in the present tense, but beneath the surface, she was worried. Where was her mom?
After school, her friends wanted to go to Westfield Mall. Amy had seen some new Urban Decay makeup in a magazine that she wanted to buy. Jay wasn't supposed to go places without letting her mom know first, but she was mad at her mom, so she went anyway. She tried on clothes with her friends but there was nothing there she could afford, or she might have bought a crepe. When Amy moved to throw out her half-empty smoothie, Jay said, “I'll finish that if you don't want it. I forgot to eat lunch.” And breakfast.
“It tastes like salad,” Amy warned her.
It did taste like salad. Jay drank it anyway because she was starving.
When she arrived home, it was dark and the streetlights had come on. Her mother still wasn't home and there was no note, but that wasn't entirely unusual. Sometimes her mom went off with a guy and didn't come back for a few days. Jay always feared the worst.
She picked up the phone and called the Beat and Tease. Rafael, the bartender, picked up. “Hello?”
“Hello, Rafe. It's Jay—um, I was wondering, is Danielle in?”
“Jay.” He immediately sounded less gruff. “No. She called out for the next couple of days. You know I'm not supposed to tell people on the phone whether a girl is in or not.”
“I know. I'm sorry.” Jay hesitated. “Did she say where she went?”
“No idea, sorry.” Something seemed to occur to him. “You're not home alone, are you?”
“No,” said Jay quickly. Too quickly? “She dumped me off at my aunt's house in Pacifica. We were just wondering if I needed to stay the night or if I, uh, needed to go home.”
“Sorry Jay,” Rafe said. “I don't know what to tell you. Have a good night.” He hung up.
Jay stared at the phone bleakly and then went to the fridge. Still empty. She wasn't sure why she'd checked. All she'd eaten today was her friend's gross smoothie so she went to the empty tin of shoe polish where her mother stashed the money and dialed in for a cheese pizza.
She sat on the porch waiting for it with her knees pressed against her chest. When the pizza guy came, he gave her a strange look she didn't like and Jay quickly yanked her hand back after she tipped him so that their fingers wouldn't brush, squeezing into the doorway with the box and then doing up the latches and the deadbolt behind her.
She ate the greasy slices while watching the crackly cable. The sound was bad and she couldn't really see much, but it didn't matter. They didn't have any of the good channels worth watching. When she was done, she put what was left of the box in the fridge and went to go wash her hands. They were out of soap so she used some of her mother's Herbal Essence shampoo. It smelled better than soap, almost like perfume. She could imagine herself in a field of flowers if she closed her eyes.
She's not coming back, thought Jay, as she changed for bed.
Strange how the thought could make her feel both relieved and anxious at the same time. As much as she hated her mother—especially when she was picking apart her looks or embarrassing her at the strip club—Jay wanted someone to take care of her. Someone who would always be there, even if it was hard. Her mother couldn't deal with anything more serious than a broken nail.
Dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a strawberry tank top, Jay came back out into the living area from the bathroom. She tilted her head at the mirror her mother had put in front of the pole. She was so tall that she almost didn't fit in the frame and she didn't really have much of a chest. She lifted a leg, frowning, fascinated by the way the muscles moved beneath the skin.
Glancing at the mirror again, more shyly this time, she began to copy one of the dance routines she had seen at the club. Not one of her mother's, which seemed to involve a lot of bumping and grinding, but one of the younger girls, like Honey and Angel, who actually danced. Even though she didn't like watching the girls if she could help it—it made her uncomfortable for reasons she couldn't quite put into words—she had seen way more than she wanted to and the steps really weren't all that hard.
If you weren't taking your clothes off, dancing was kind of fun. Especially without a bunch of guys hollering at you or demanding that you “take it off.” Her mother didn't have a CD player, so Jay just hummed along to a Destiny's Child song in her head, thinking that maybe this was what Honey meant. Dancing was so much better if you were doing it for yourself.
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The next day, her mother still hadn't returned. Jay began to wonder if she had been kidnapped or even died. The thought made her cry. Given her horrible thoughts about her mom the other day, it was hard not to feel like she had somehow wished this into occurring.
Sick with worry, Jay grabbed her bag and went to school, but this time she was too upset to read on the bus. The kindly old wom
an sitting next to her kept asking if she was okay, but Jay kept her lips together and moved seats because she knew if she opened her mouth, she would cry. At school, she stood around with her friends in their usual spot, with her thumbs hooked through the straps of her backpack as she tilted her hips back and forth and gave monosyllabic responses.
When Danny and his friends came up to them to talk, Jay barely noticed. She knew Kristine, Amy, and Leah were looking at her funny, but she couldn't bring herself to care. All she could think of was that scene in Pulp Fiction with the woman conked out, practically dead. That could be her mom right now, and she wouldn't even know.
Jay ate the leftover pizza for dinner and counted up the money in the tin shoe polish box. There were only about two hundred dollars in it and she didn't know where her mother kept the emergency debit card. That wasn't enough to cover even half of rent, which would have to be paid up in two weeks. Would her mother even come back before then?
I should call the police, thought Jay, but she was afraid of the police, too. What if they took her away? What if they yelled at her for not calling sooner?
What if this was all somehow her fault?
Jay wished she had Honey's phone number, although she wasn't sure what the dancer could even really do if she called. Honey talked to Jay at work because Jay was there, but Jay was pretty sure she wouldn't want some kid calling her up at home, even if the kid was the “little amorcita” who fetched her sneakers.
She tried to read, telling herself that now she could stay up reading as late as she wanted, but she was too upset to make sense of the words that kept blurring before her eyes.
Sniffling, Jay poured herself a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table, trying to figure out her homework. Doing her algebra and conjugations helped clear her mind a little because you couldn't be sad and focus at the same time, but as soon as she was done with her work, all the bad feelings rushed back in, almost like they'd never even left.
She curled up in bed and cried that night, resolving that if her mother wasn't back tomorrow, she would call the police for real this time, even if they did yell at her for not reporting it sooner.
When Jay opened her eyes again, it was light out and she could smell frying bacon and hear her mother humming “Jolene.” At first, Jay thought she was dreaming. Her mother never cooked.
“Mom?”
“Hey there, baby.” She pivoted from the stove, wearing what looked like a new dress and that stupid necklace with the circle of diamonds. “Did you enjoy sleeping in? I tried to wake you but you were out like a little light—but I knew the smell of bacon would get you.”
Jay went through several emotions in quick succession that seemed to flash like a broken traffic light. “Mom, what the hell? Where have you been? I thought you—I thought you died!”
Her mother laughed. “Died? Baby, no. I was in Vegas.”
“V-Vegas?” Jay swallowed around the angry lump in her throat. “Las Vegas?”
“Is there any other Vegas?” Her mother smiled beatifically, “I got married, Jay. You're looking at the new Mrs. Beaucroft of Hollybrook, California.” Her mother held out her hand. There was a ring on it the size of a dime. “You're going to have a daddy again.”
Jay stared bleakly at the ring, not sure if she was hearing correctly and afraid that she was. “Mrs Beaucroft—wait, you mean that creepy guy from the Beat and Tease?” The one who wouldn't stop staring at me? “You're marrying him?”
“We are married, Justine. It's a done deal.” Her mother's smile disappeared. “He's a very generous man.”
“I didn't know where you were,” said Jay. “I called the Beat and Tease. I called—” She paused. She hadn't called anyone else because there hadn't been anyone else. “No one knew where you were,” she finished lamely. “I thought something terrible had happened to you. I was going to call the police.”
“Oh God, you didn't, did you? I think there's a baggie of weed around here somewhere.”
There had been, but Jay had found it and thrown it into the trash.
“Mom. Forget the weed! Why didn't you leave me a note?”
“I thought I did.”
“No,” Jay half-shouted, half-sobbed. “You didn't. You—left me—all—alone.”
To her horror, she started crying, while her mother just stood there and stared.
“I . . . I'm sorry, Justine. Here, come here, baby. I'm so sorry. I tell you what, let's go shopping. That always cheers me up when I'm sad. We can go anywhere you like. You're going to need clothes for your new life.” She smiled hopefully. “Doesn't that sound like fun?”
Jay looked at her mother's blurry face and swiped at her cheeks.
“Okay,” she said, in a very small voice.
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Nicholas Beaucroft was bored.
Even though he was hanging out with his friends, Jake and Aaron, it was starting to feel like they were always doing the same things, over and over, like a spinning record.
Aaron's house was especially annoying because Aaron had four younger siblings. “Go away, Lilian,” Aaron was snapping at his four-year-old sister, who had come in to show off her Tickle Me Elmo. “We're busy.”
They were playing Mario Party 3 but Jake kept cheating, reaching over and yanking at the joy stick of whoever happened to be winning at the time, which was usually Nick. So Nick retaliated by robbing Jake with the Boo ghost every chance he got, even when Jake was down to his last ten coins.
“Stop being a dildo, Nick!”
“You're the dildo,” said Nick, smiling to himself as the ghost attacked Jake—again.
“Why can't we play at your house, Nick?” Aaron asked glumly, watching his sister depart. Probably to run off to her mom to tell, Nick thought. That seemed to be all siblings were good for.
“Because of the decorators,” he muttered. “Dad has people over to set up my stepsister's room.”
The news had been broken to him yesterday and he still wasn't happy about it. He didn't want a “new” mother or a “new” sister. He'd had a mom—and she had died—and he'd never wanted a sister. He liked being left alone.
“I can't believe your dad got married again,” said Jake. “That's so lame.”
“Yeah.” Nick sighed. “I'm not thrilled about it.”
“I want to play.” Now Hal, Aaron's seven-year-old brother, was plopping his butt down on the rug, staring at the TV like a dog begging for a treat. “Let me play with you guys.”
“No,” said Aaron. “We're in the middle of a game. Go bother Lilian. She'll play with you.”
“It's my Nintendo, too!” Hal shouted, startling them. “Dad got it for all of us! Not just you!”
Before any of the boys could stop him, he yanked the switch on the system, turning it off, and ran away wailing for his mom before any of them could so much as touch a hair on his head.
“That little shit,” said Jake.
“Dude, that's my brother,” said Aaron. “Only I get to call him a shit.”
“Well, then call him one.” Nick tossed down the controller. “He ruined our game.”
“Easy,” Aaron said in alarm.
“I feel sorry for you.” Jake rose to his feet, stretching his skinny arms over his head. “Your new sister is going to screw up your whole way of life, dude.”
“Probably.” Nick made a face. “I'm bored of this game anyway. Let's go to the park.”
Aaron shouted something to his mom as Nick and Jake walked out. Nick's dad didn't care where he went as long as he was back before the streetlights came on, and Jake's dad was a sheriff, so nobody would mess with him anyway, or they'd probably get thrown in jail.
Aaron, on the other hand, was a total momma's boy. He was always asking to use the phone when they went out places so he could call his mom and let her know he'd be late. Nick thought that was kind of pathetic.
It was too late for the little kids to be out so the three of them had the park to themselves, apart from some older kids play
ing soccer in the distance. They climbed on the jungle gym, Aaron sitting on one of the lower U-shaped bars, Jake on the swings. Nick shimmied up the pole and hooked his legs over the topmost frame of the swings themselves, hanging upside-down like a bat. Pretty soon, his head began to throb as all of his blood spilled down like an hourglass.
“That's dangerous,” said Aaron, looking up at him nervously. “You'll fall and crack your head.”
“Hasn't happened yet.” Nick curled up, grabbing the bar with both hands, and swung down to the tanbark with a thump. He knew it was an impressive finish because Jake's eyes widened slightly. Turning to Aaron, he added lazily, “You sound like your mom right now.”
“Shut up.”
“How old is your stepsister?” Jake asked. “She's not a little weenie like Lilian, is she? I don't want to have to deal with another little kid pulling on me while I try to play Goldeneye.”
“Hey,” Aaron snapped.
“Nah. Dad says she's older. Fourteen. She's studious and likes to read,” he added, gagging.
Jake scoffed. “Sounds like a total dog.”
“Maybe she'll drive us places when she gets her license,” said Aaron.
Nick thought about that. His dad never drove him anywhere. The housekeeper did that, in her broken-down Gremlin. He hated the old car; he thought it was ugly and couldn't understand why she just didn't get a new one. “Maybe,” he said doubtfully. “But that's two years from now.”
“Your life is over,” Jake said solemnly. “Rest in pieces, my man.”
Nick flipped him off, but deep down he thought Jake was right.
Chapter Nine
2000
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On Jay's mom's last day at the Beat and Tease, she danced to The Clash's “Rock the Casbah.” Jay sat at the vanity, reading To Kill a Mockingbird, the book the freshmen at her new school would be reading. At Jay's current school, they were in the middle of Romeo and Juliet. So far, she was thinking that she preferred the doomed Shakespeare play.
Quid Pro Quo: A dark stepbrother romance Page 8
