A Work of Art (19 page)

“I tried to ask you about it last week,” she said. “But you wouldn't talk to me. And then my mom said I shouldn't have any contact with you.”

A stab of anger made me sit up straighter. “It's not like I'm contagious,” I said. “What does she think will happen if you have contact with me?”

Haley rolled her eyes. “You know how she is.”

I didn't, actually. Haley acted like her mom was the most annoying person in the world, but I didn't see it.
Her
mom didn't have mental problems.

Haley was still talking. “So I went ahead and made an appointment to see him.”

Did I miss something? I shook my head. “What are you talking about?”

“That lawyer in your dad's case wants to talk to me, but I don't really know what they want.” She twisted her hair into a rope. “Do you?”

“You mean Charlotte Gross?” Why would Dad's lawyer want to talk to Haley?

“No. The prosecuting attorney guy. Herman whatever-his-last- name-is.”

The bell rang. Mr. Wilson called for everyone to take their seats. Haley stopped playing with her hair and flopped into the seat in front of me. I stared at the back of her head and didn't hear a word of Mr. Wilson's lecture.

I could think of only one reason why Herman Liebowitz would want to talk to the girl who lived across the street. He wanted to find out if Dad had done anything to her.

But Haley had a big mouth. She would have said something if Dad had so much as looked at her funny. I knew for a fact she would have said something.

• • •

Joey picked me up twenty minutes late. He leaned into the steering wheel and cocked a smile as I slid into the car. “You look good.”

I smiled back. The screaming guitar on his stereo hurt my ears. The lingering smoke turned my empty stomach. But he was here. Finally.

“Before we get going . . .” He shook a pill from a tiny plastic bag and put it in my hand.

I stared at it. “What is it?”

“X. Ecstasy. You didn't eat, did you? It works best on an empty stomach.”

“Um.” I tried to give it back. “I don't . . .”

His voice hardened. “You don't want it? You said you'd do it next time.”

I didn't remember saying that. Fortunately, I had the perfect excuse to say no. “I have to go to the jail in the morning,” I told him. “I'm visiting my dad.”

“What time are you going?”

“Ten.”

He blew air between his lips. “It'll be out of your system by then. You want to start with half? Then you can see what it does and take the other half later tonight.”

I knew if I didn't take it, he'd be angry. And really, what was the harm? Everything I'd heard about it said it was awesome—a designer drug—and it wasn't supposed to be addictive, not like heroin or crack.

“Listen,” he said. “I know you've been worried about your dad. This'll help you forget, at least for a while.”

I stared at the pill in my palm. Forgetting sounded good. Forgetting sounded like heaven. “I'll do half,” I said.

He grinned and took the pill out of my hand. Then he bit off half with his front teeth and chased it down with a swig from his water bottle. Still smiling, he held the other half out to me.

Before I could change my mind, I popped the pill into my mouth, wincing at the chalky, bitter taste. I swallowed it down with the water Joey held out to me. “Are you okay to drive?” I asked.

“Don't worry,” he said. “It takes about an hour to start working.” He popped another pill into his mouth and washed it down. Then he shifted into Drive.

• • •

It took a half-hour to get to his uncle's house. The whole ride over, I was hyper-aware of my senses, trying to figure out if I felt anything from the ecstasy. So far, nothing. Not even a tingle.

When we got to his uncle's house, two guys with buzz cuts were chasing Po'Boy around the yard. Po'Boy leaped around like a gazelle, barking and wagging his tail. I was glad to see him happy. On the porch, we passed a guy and girl sitting on the steps laughing hysterically. Their arms were covered in tattoos.

Joey waved me toward the door. “Go on in. I need to talk to someone.”

I was nervous. I didn't want to be alone with a bunch of strangers. But I didn't want Joey to think I was clingy. So I did what he said. I went inside.

The thrum of techno music swallowed me. A guy with spiky white hair and a mess of piercings crouched in front of the stereo system. Joey's uncle lounged on the couch, rubbing at the tattoo on his neck. An older woman with fingernails like talons nestled against his chest, sucking on a cigarette.

I stood near the door, trying to decide where to go, what to do. Sadie was supposed to be here, but she probably had a bunch of people to talk to.

“Hey!” Joey's uncle threw a cigarette at me. “I don't know you.”

“Oh.” I pointed outside. “I'm with Joey. I met you the other night.”

He squinted at me.

“At your bar. I'm Tera.”

He smiled as recognition dawned. “Pink.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your wine. I always remember people by their drink.”

“Oh.” A miniature tornado whirled in my gut. But it wasn't nerves. This tornado felt good.

“There's drinks in the fridge. Help yourself.” He winked and sipped from his water bottle.

“Thanks.”

I wandered into the kitchen. There were a half-dozen people leaning against the counters, smoking but not talking. Some of them had their eyes closed, their heads bobbing to the music. I glanced around, searching for Sadie, but these people were all older, more like Joey's uncle's age than high-school kids.

“You looking for something?” A man peeled himself from the counter. He was a big guy, broad shoulders and heavy around the middle, like an overweight football player. He had a shaved head, just like Joey's uncle. His grin managed to look silly and lustful at the same time.

I needed to relax. I tried reaching for the buzzy tornado feeling in my stomach, but it wasn't there anymore. Maybe I should take the other half. “I just came to get a drink,” I said.

He slumped against the counter. “Well, you don't have to look so scared about it. Liquor's on the counter. Other stuff's in the fridge.”

“Thanks.” I opened the refrigerator. A box of pink wine sat on the shelf. It had a spigot. I found a plastic cup on the counter and filled it half full.

The man watched me. “So how do you know Johnny?”

Johnny. Joey's uncle. “I'm his nephew's girlfriend,” I said. That sounded funny, so I laughed. “I'm Tera.”

“
Joey's
girlfriend?”

Was it so surprising? I laughed again. The tornado in my stomach was back, only now it was moving up toward my throat. I wanted to lean my head back and stretch, but I knew how weird that would look. I needed to concentrate on what I was doing. “We just started dating,” I said.

“That explains it. So how do you know Joey?”

“We work together.” It was getting harder to concentrate. “At Papa Geppetto's.” The name sounded funny, but I kept myself from giggling.

“Ah.” He sipped from his water bottle and looked around.

“Do you know a girl named Sadie?” I asked. “I can't find her.”

“Don't know her,” he said. And then he closed his eyes, so I figured he was done talking.

I made my way back to the living room. Was it my imagination, or did my body feel lighter? Almost like my veins were filled with helium. Sadie wasn't there, but Joey crouched beside the couch next to his uncle. I gave him a little wave. He held up a finger.
Wait
.

I sipped my drink. Joey kept massaging his own neck, like he had a crick in it, and his uncle kept smiling. The guy with spiky white hair asked me if I had a cigarette. I told him I didn't smoke. He moved on.

Joey kept talking to his uncle, but I didn't mind. I was having fun just watching everyone. Never in my life had I felt so relaxed, so at ease in my body. I looked around for a wall to lean against. I wanted to stretch like a cat. I wanted to lean my head back and just
feel.

Joey appeared at my side. He had a huge smile. “Sorry about that. Are you feeling it yet?” He stared at my face. “You are, aren't you?”

I grinned. “I feel amazing.”

“You want to take the other half?”

I did, but I was scared, too. What I was feeling felt
really
good, and I didn't want to ruin it by taking too much.

Someone turned off the lights and cranked up the music. Thumping bass rattled the wall. The room erupted in cheers. A scattering of glow sticks jerked around in dizzying patterns, cutting the dark with their neon trails of light.

I had to yell to be heard over the music. It was hard to take my eyes off the twirling glow sticks. “Maybe later,” I said.

One of the dancers in the middle of the room bumped into me. Two people huddled under a blanket on the recliner. I couldn't see their faces, but they were obviously making out. The woman with the talon fingernails sat on the floor by the coffee table, rolling a joint. I had a sudden flash of what this scene must look like to someone from the outside. Someone like my mom. A total den of iniquity. So what? I was having fun.

Joey took my hand and led me to the couch. His uncle Johnny moved over to make room for us. I flopped down between them, leaned my head back, and smiled.

“Someone's feeling good,” Johnny said.

Why hadn't I done this before? “It's my first time,” I announced.

Johnny laughed. I saw the look he exchanged with Joey, but I wasn't sure what it meant, and I didn't care.

I rubbed Joey's leg. “You said I'd like it, and I do!”

“I'm glad,” he said.

“You said it'd make me forget about my dad, and I'm forgetting! I don't think I've stopped thinking about him since he got arrested. Only now I'm still thinking of him because I'm talking about him. But I don't mind talking about him.” I turned to Johnny. “My dad's in jail,” I explained. “He got arrested for child pornography. I don't think he did it, though. He's an artist, and sometimes he gets edgy with his art and doesn't realize things can be looked at the wrong way.”

Johnny nodded. “You talk a lot.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, but that's okay. I like looking at you.” He let his hand rest on my thigh.

I stared at the hand, trying to figure out what it was doing there. And then he took it away.

“How much did she take?” Johnny asked.

“A half. I'm giving her the other half right now.”

Johnny pushed himself off the couch. “I'm going to see what's happening in the kitchen.”

I lifted my chin and pouted. “Don't leave!”

He patted the top of my head. “I'll be back, sweetheart.”

I giggled. The way he had patted me, like I was a dog. And then I thought of Po'Boy running around in the yard. That made me happy, and I smiled some more.

“Hey,” Joey said. He grabbed my hand and put something in it. Another ecstasy pill. “I think you're ready.”

Was I? I wanted to pop the pill in my mouth—anything to keep this feeling going strong—but a tiny, still-functioning part of my brain told me to hold off. “I have to go to the bathroom,” I said. Which was true. But I also wanted to think.

He closed my fingers over the pill. “Take it in the bathroom,” he said. “Don't tell anyone you have it. I already told them I didn't have any more.”

People looked at me with knowing smiles as I stumbled toward the hallway. One guy lifted his water bottle like he was toasting me.

I got to the bathroom and closed the door. My reflection in the mirror gazed at me with hooded eyelids. My whole face sagged. My jaw ached, and I realized I'd been clenching my teeth. I looked like crap, but I felt so amazingly good. As much as I wanted to keep feeling this way, I knew I shouldn't take any more. I had to see Dad tomorrow, and my washed-up reflection told me I'd had enough.

I flushed the pill down the toilet.

When I came back to the living room, another guy was sitting on the couch with Joey. They moved apart, and I sank between them. Joey rubbed my thigh. “This is Tera,” he said. “Tera, this is Mac.”

“We met in the kitchen,” Mac said, and only then did I recognize him. Sweat beaded on his shaved head.

I giggled. “Is that your real name?'

“Does it matter?” And then he leaned over and kissed me.

I wasn't sure what was happening at first. But then Joey's arm curled around my waist and slid up to fondle my breast. Joey kissed the back of my neck, and somehow I opened my mouth to Mac's kiss. Joey groaned behind me, his body pressing closer. Mac's fingers—I think they were Mac's fingers—massaged between my legs.
I don't care. It feels too good.
I moved closer to Mac. Joey moved closer to me. Was this happening? Should I stop it? It felt so good, I never wanted to stop.

I was vaguely aware of the pumping music, of people in the room, but I didn't care if they saw us. I didn't care about anything except how good it felt—and not because I was making out with two guys.
Two guys!
A part of my brain was in awe of myself. Where had this girl been hiding? But mostly I marveled at how my entire body radiated with pleasure—and not necessarily sexual pleasure, though that was part of it. More like the shuddering of an electric pulse vibrating my skin.

And then Mac pulled away. “This is getting too intense,” he said. “I gotta do something.”

“You want to fuck?” Joey said in my ear. I smiled and nodded. I did.

He took my hand, pulled me up from the couch. We walked down the hallway to the bedroom. Was that Mac following us? It was. He closed the door behind us. Joey took off his shirt. So did Mac.

“Wait,” I said. “I didn't mean him, too.”

“You serious?” Mac said.