Sleeping in My Jeans

by Connie King Leonard

  “That shiner’s new.” He tilts his head to the side. “This guy gonna work you over again? Maybe take it out on the kids?”

  A shiver runs down my spine. Would Darren do that? Beat up Meg and me to get back at Mom?

  Mom hesitates before shaking her head. “No. We’ll be okay.”

  The officer sighs. “Look, Ma’am. These nice, quiet neighborhoods don’t like their streets cluttered up with campers.” The lines on his face deepen even more. “They call us, and if we spend our time on the big stuff like murders and rapes and armed robbery and don’t get out here to move you on, they go call the mayor and the mayor calls us and then we got to take care of it anyway. Understand?”

  Mom nods, but keeps right on staring through Ruby’s fogged-over windshield.

  Officer Rodriguez bends sideways so he can look back at us. “These two girls your kids?”

  “Yes.” Mom’s voice wobbles.

  “What are you doing out here, Ms. Rollins?”

  Mom’s body recoils, then straightens until she’s rigid, like it takes all her strength to hold herself upright. “It’s just for a few days.” Her voice is soft and tight, fear stabbing at every word.

  “A few hours. A few years. It doesn’t matter.” His face wrinkles into a scowl. “The scum is out there, Ms. Rollins, even in these nice neighborhoods.” The lines around his mouth deepen. “You gotta get these girls off the street before something happens to them.”

  Tears slide down the sides of Mom’s cheeks. She doesn’t brush them away, just lets them run on and on, dripping off her chin.

  “Look, it’s not a crime to sleep in your car.” Officer Rodriguez slaps his hand on the window ledge. “But you got to have family, friends, something better than this.”

  “We don’t have family.” Mom turns to him. “I’m a foster kid. None of my friends can take us in. I’ve got a job. Two jobs. I can find something in a couple of days. I know I can.”

  Officer Rodriguez sucks in a breath of air and blows it out in a rush. “That’s what they all say, Ma’am.” He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out a folded sheet of paper. “These places can help.” He looks back at us. “You get these girls off the street.” He taps the paper in Mom’s hands. “Now. Before a child molester gets ahold of them.”

  Shivers roll through me in wave after icy wave. I pull Meg close and bury my face in her hair.

  Chapter Eight

  Mom drops me off at the front door of the high school. I’ve got on fresh clothes and cleaned up in the gas station sink, but I’m still worried I’m a walking stink bomb. I can’t smell myself, but it’s been three days since I’ve had a shower or washed my hair.

  Jack is standing at my locker. My heart turns cartwheels and refuses to settle down to a steady beat. I stop right in the middle of the hallway. A stream of people flows around me, but I don’t budge. I just stand there, angry that my body reacts to him while my mind cries, Run. Do not stop. No matter how much you want to know this guy. Do not stop!

  “Hey, Mattie.”

  His words come out soft. Sweet. I don’t want to like him. I won’t let myself like him. I pull my eyes away, step around him, and open my locker door.

  Jack hitches his backpack higher up on his shoulder. “You disappeared again.”

  I grab my English book out of my locker and slam the door. My intent was to carry it home with me, but Mom pulled me out of choir and I didn’t take the time to run and get it.

  “I came by after school.”

  I swing around and look up into his face. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  His eyes are dark and his face serious. “I know, and I’m trying to change that.”

  Jack does all the right things, says all the right words, and makes it too easy for me to like him.

  “I don’t want a guy waiting around for me. I don’t want a boyfriend. Understand?”

  His mouth twitches back and forth, like he’s not sure what to think of me. “What about a friend?”

  I shake my head and take off for class. “If we were ten that might work.” I sigh. “But not now.”

  Jack falls into step beside me. “We could crank down our hormones and give it a go.”

  I glance at him. Jack tilts his head to the side, pulls up his shoulders, and flips his hands in such a goofy way that tiny bubbles of laughter ripple through my body, threatening to push my mouth into a smile and force me to erupt into giggles. I clamp my lips together and turn away.

  “Not that it would be easy,” he mutters, “but at this point, I’ll try most anything.”

  I stop right in the middle of the hall. “Why?”

  Jack swings around and stands in front of me. “Why what?”

  “Why bother?” I wave my arm. “Look at these girls. Some of them would dump their current boyfriend or even sell their mother into slavery to be your girlfriend, so why bug me?”

  Jack’s face gets this comical look on it, half serious and half ridiculous. “Am I really bugging you?”

  I grip the straps of my backpack and roll my eyes at him. “Don’t be cute. Just answer the question.”

  People push past, bumping into us. Jack sighs. The grin lines on the sides of his mouth smooth out, giving his jaw the square, chiseled look of a man instead of a tall boy. “You’re you, Mattie. Straight up. No games.” He shrugs his shoulders. “And that lets me be me. Not the prom king or the basketball star or the guy with the fancy new car. With you I’m just an ordinary guy who wants to know this super cute girl with a megasized attitude.”

  My heart melts into a puddle of raw emotion. I shouldn’t have kept up the conversation or asked why he’s interested in me if I couldn’t handle the answer. Jack doesn’t say any more, just falls in step beside me as we drift through the hall to my class.

  His “See you later, Mattie” sends another ripple through the pool of my heart, leaving me rubbery and weak. I flop into my desk. This is ridiculous. Insane. I can’t waste my time on a boy. Not now. Not for years.

  Mr. Avila is well into class before I recover enough to get to work. Three days of being homeless hasn’t messed up my grades, but I’ve got projects coming up and papers due. Stuff you can’t work on while you’re sitting at a little kid table in the public library or crammed into a dark car. I spend the morning trying to forget Jack and focus on school. By noon, I’m flipping through my workload, putting everything into categories from THIS IS DUE TOMORROW to no sweat I’ve got all week.

  Jack isn’t in the cafeteria. The smart, thinking part of me is relieved; he finally wised up and realized I’m a total waste of his time. Maybe he’s even hiding out in the boy’s locker room, embarrassed by his sudden burst of honesty. Or maybe he decided he doesn’t need the hassle of a person like me, and he’s strolling through the hall right now, wrapping some other girl in all the right words and getting more than a scowl and a sassy comeback.

  The wishful romantic in me is disappointed. He was a friend. Maybe it was only a three-day relationship, but he knew I existed, seemed like he cared, and was fun to be around even when I acted all snippy and snotty.

  I take my tray of pizza and salad over to the table, plop down, and prop open my algebra book. Two tables over, Lilly wrinkles up her face and gives me a look of confusion. She’s texted me a ton of times asking for details about Jack, even though I keep telling her there is nothing to report.

  I grin at Lilly and shrug my shoulders to either say “I don’t care where Jack is” or “I don’t know,” depending on my mood and her interpretation. She gives me a sideways grin and gets back to feeding Tanner’s constant demand for attention.

  Despite her obsession with Tanner, Lilly is a good friend, but she lives in a single-wide trailer with her mom, dad, and two little brothers. Just like Mom’s friend Carly, her living situation leaves no room for Mom, Meg, and me to crash on the couch.
I take a bite of pizza and get to work.

  Lunch break is well underway when Jack slips onto the bench across from me. “Sorry I’m late. My parents wanted my latest physics grade.” His face is flushed and he’s out of breath, like he sprinted through every hallway in the entire school just to get here.

  Our eyes lock, and there’s no way I can let go. Words of warning shoot through my head. Careful, Mattie girl. You’ve got goals. You’ve got plans. If you fall for this guy you could end up like Mom, pregnant at sixteen and homeless at thirty-three. Be strong, Mattie. Be brave. Be smart.

  I look away and try to focus on my food. It doesn’t work. My eyes are like magnets—they snap right back to him, eating up his every word, his every movement. Jack chatters on about his physics grade.

  “I’ve been a lazy bum my whole school career and still managed to keep up my grades.” He shrugs. “But it’s my senior year and physics is the hardest class I’ve ever taken. I’m actually doing some homework.”

  My algebra book sits on the table beside my tray. I can’t reach for it. My emotions are too messed up, too conflicted to concentrate on anything but Jack. I should grab my books and run, but the feeling of friendship—true friendship—is so intense I can’t let go.

  “My whole mission in life is basketball.” Jack dips a carrot in ranch dressing and pops it into his mouth. “That sounds shallow and childish, like I’m still a little kid that hasn’t gotten past pro ballplayer as my only career option, but I love the game. I really do.”

  He keeps going like I’m his best friend and he can share anything with me. “I’m not big or tall enough for the NBA, and I don’t think I ever will be, but I’m hoping I can land a spot on a decent college team. I don’t need the scholarship money, but I really want to play at that level.”

  Jack throws me another one of his heart-stopping smiles. “And someday, I want to get enough experience to coach college basketball. That’s my goal anyway.”

  I look into his handsome face and wonder how I messed up. How he broke every boy barrier I’d set up.

  Jack waves his hand at the tray on the table in front of him. “I’m trying the mac and cheese.” He takes a scoop, shovels it in his mouth, and wrinkles up his nose. “Not as good as the boxed stuff.” He grins and shoves in another bite. “What’s your goal, Mattie?”

  “President of the United States.” The words slip out of my mouth so easy and quick that I don’t have a chance to take them back.

  Jack doesn’t laugh. He sets his fork down and studies me with serious eyes. “Wow. You do have goals. Big ones. Really big ones.”

  I’ve never told a single soul about my dream to change the world. Make it a better place. Help the poor and uneducated and other people in need. I’ve kept my grand plans secret from Mom and Meg and barely dared dream them myself. Why did I think I could trust them with Jack?

  Chapter Nine

  “Mattie Rollins.” The loudspeaker blares my name for the fourth straight day. “Report to the office to be checked out.” Mr. Z drops his chin to his chest and lets his arms flop to his sides. The choir stumbles to a stop.

  “Again?” mumbles the girl next to me.

  I step off the risers. A guy in the back row yells, “Mr. Z! Write out the pass before class starts so we don’t have to stop.” Mr. Z scribbles on the notepad, tears a page off, and slaps the pass in my hand.

  I need to tell Mr. Z why I miss class, but students are constantly milling around his desk, chattering about concerts and new music or just hanging out. There is never a good opportunity to talk to him alone.

  I grab my pass and hurry to the office. Mom is waiting. The minute she sees me coming down the hall, she turns away and heads for the front door. My stomach cramps into a fist-sized knot. She didn’t get an apartment. Not even a room. If she had, she’d be smiling at me, even with a split lip and purple bruises on her face. I scribble my name on the sign-out sheet and follow her.

  Yesterday, I whined and fussed and sassed like a self-centered brat. Today, I cram all my mean, nasty words into my gut and let them swirl around with the other worries crowding the space. Mom wants a room as much as I do, maybe more. She is halfway across the parking lot by the time I catch up to her.

  “Mom?” My voice sounds high and shrill, like I’ll break down and cry in the high school parking lot.

  Mom shakes her head and won’t even look at me. We climb into the car in silence. Meg hops off the backseat, poking her head between the headrests. “When we get our new house, we’ll go back to Darren’s and get all our stuff, won’t we Mommy?”

  Mom’s body goes totally still, like she’s frozen in place.

  Meg swings her head over to me. “I’ll get my dollhouse and color crayons and story books and Barbie doll clothes, and Mattie, you can get your books and hair brush. And we’ll get our beds and all our stuff and the new place will look like Darren’s, only better because he won’t be there.”

  Meg doesn’t wait for Mom or me to answer. She pops back onto her booster seat and buckles herself in like it’s all a sure thing. We’ll get an apartment. Meg and I will have our twin beds set side by side with my bookcase in between. All our stuff will be there. Clean. Neat. No Darren. Her picture of life is so simple and clear that my throat swells. I’d cry at the beauty of it all if I dared to believe in something so perfect.

  Mom pulls herself together, backs out of the parking lot, and drives toward the library. Meg goes back to playing with her stuffed bunny, while I stare at Ruby’s windshield wipers whipping back and forth, clearing away the rain.

  Jack is gone, our beautiful lunch shattered by reality. His friendship is nothing more than a dream like Meg’s, too perfect to be real. Even if he is ideal for me, I can’t have him now. Today, for just a little while, I let myself think I could. I knew better, but I slid into that beautiful, easy space of thinking we could be friends. I soaked up his words and dropped all my defenses. I close my eyes, pushing him out of my head and burying him like I buried all my other childish dreams.

  “What was my dad like?” The question slips out of my mouth even though I know the answer. I’ve asked Mom the same thing a thousand times, but this time I need more than facts. Maybe I need to understand how Mom let herself get pregnant. How she fell for a guy and messed up her life, and how I’m supposed to keep from doing the same thing.

  Mom glances across the car, her blue eyes softer, full of relief for my question. She needed to move away from Meg’s dream even more than I did. That picture too ideal to be real.

  Mom gives me that same sad smile she uses every time she talks about Matt, my dad. “He was tall and slim, Mattie,” Mom turns back to focus on the road, “and very handsome, with dark eyes full of strength and kindness and a bit of mischief, just like yours.”

  She says the same words every time, but they’re never enough. I want her to give me a guide for boys. Some bit of knowledge that will tell me which guys are liars and cheats, which are alcoholics and junkies, and which I can trust with my life.

  “But was he a nice guy, Mom? Did you love him?”

  “He was a very nice guy, but we were kids, Mattie. Younger than you. We liked each other. A lot. And I suppose we loved each other, as much as kids your age can love, but we were just way too young.”

  “Did you try to find him?”

  Mom hesitates, like she does every time she answers that question. “No.” She turns down the street and parks in the drop-off zone. I think that’s the end of the conversation, but Mom reaches across the car and clasps my arm.

  “I should have.” She sighs. “By the time I knew you were coming and figured out what to do, he’d moved across the country and the relationship was over.” She gives my hand another squeeze. I think she’s done—story over—but she says, “I should have found him, Mattie. Keeping you to myself was selfish. Very, very selfish. If Matt knew you were here, he would love yo
u as much as I do.”

  Tears sting the corners of my eyes. She’s never said that. Never told me my dad might have wanted me. Never said what I ached to hear all those years. “Is it too late to find him? Could we at least try?”

  Mom studies my face like she’s looking straight into my heart. “When we get settled, okay?” She squeezes my hand a little tighter before she lets go and grabs the steering wheel.

  Meg and I slide out of the car, stand on the sidewalk in front of the library, and watch Mom drive away. I take a deep breath and blink back tears. My body feels raw, like my skin has been scrubbed just short of bleeding. Love. Hate. Anger. Grief. Worry. Fear. Emotions keep coming, keep beating at me until I wonder how long I can stand them all.

  I tighten my grip on Meg’s hand. We walk inside, and I steer her across the lobby to the young adult section. Last night’s run-in spooked me, so I’m not about to let the children’s librarian see us camped out in our little corner for another evening. I find a table by the window, and Meg and I spread out our homework. I drive Jack, my dad and mom, and living in a car—along with all the other junk that pushes at me—right out of my head. It takes too long, but I finally clear my life away enough to concentrate on my schoolwork.

  Meg finishes her papers, and when she gets tired, I let her curl up on the window seat with a pile of picture books. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep. Our spot is perfect, warm and comfortable with an outlet for my phone and a bank of computers close by.

  Teens sit in front of computer screens surfing the internet, playing games, and writing school papers. A group of kids huddle around the last computer on the row. One girl glances up at me. Dyed black hair sticks out from under the gray hood of her sweatshirt in short spikes. The girl studies me for a second or two before she focuses back on the computer screen.

  I go back to my homework. Honors English is my biggest worry. I make a ton of notes on the original play, but I can’t do much more until I watch the two movies. My US History class isn’t much better. We’re supposed to be working on a PowerPoint presentation on the Civil War, but living in Ruby makes using Mom’s computer almost impossible.