Before, After, and Somebody In Between (21 page)

“What party?”

“Natalie’s birthday party tomorrow.”

“He didn’t say anything about a party.”

“Oh, he probably just forgot.”

When Danny calls me a while later for our usual bedtime chat, I lie there with Taffy’s chin on my ankle, waiting for a chance to ask about Natalie’s party—but he goes on and on about his “Autumn” composition and how he just now decided to enter it in a competition, and, well, it’d be rude to change the subject.

Then his dad, sounding unnervingly like Momma, hollers at him to “get off the goddamn phone!” So he finishes with, “Love you, babe. God, I can’t wait to see you!”

“Me, too.” His father’s bitching grows louder, and I quickly add, “So I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at—” But the phone goes dead. “Asshole!” I snap, meaning his dad, of course, and Taffy’s head perks up, like, Hey, what’s with you?

Poor Danny. Maybe music’s not the only thing we have in common.

34

It’s weird that Danny doesn’t call me before Natalie’s party, but I’m so busy figuring out what to wear, I hardly give it a thought. I wiggle into a short ruffled skirt and tights and an autumny-colored turtleneck sweater, then blow dry my hair while Nikki hands out pointers.

Then, as I’m twirling in front of the mirror, I hear, “Hey, who’s this?”

In her hand is Jerome’s class picture. She took it out of my trunk!

Out loud I say calmly, “Oh, him? He’s just a friend,” but inside I’m screaming:
Get out of my shit and mind your own beeswax!

“So who is he, like your boyfriend or something?” she asks, staring at the
X
’s and O’s Shavonne drew on the back.

I force a laugh. “My boyfriend? No, he’s just somebody I used to know.” From where? From school? From the neighborhood? Jesus, no, not the neighborhood. Whatever possessed me to leave that picture right on top? Am I subconsciously trying to screw up?

With a sunny smile, I pry it away, bury it, and snap the latch of my trunk. Nikki doesn’t mention it again, but on the way to
the party she sends me odd searching looks, like she’s trying to figure something out.

Except for the other Brinkmans and a couple of girls from school, I don’t know anyone at Natalie’s party. Most of the kids are Natalie’s pals, and Nikki introduces me as “a friend of the family.” They all say hi and then promptly ignore me. Danny, too bad for me, doesn’t seem to be around.

My unspoken question gets an answer when I hear Natalie complain, “That brother of mine is so totally dead! I can’t
believe
he went to New York. My mom’s ready to kill him.”

“Typical,” Nikki says with her usual flick of a hand. “So when does he get back?”

“Tomorrow night, I guess. If they don’t get snowed in.”

New York? Danny never said a word about New York. “What’s he doing there?”

They both look at me like they forgot I’m in the room, and Natalie nudges Nikki with her bony elbow. “Skiing, what else? You mean he didn’t tell you?”

Nikki sends me a semiapologetic smile. “I told you he forgot. His memory’s awful. Nat, you remember last year, when he took Caitlin to homecoming and forgot to hire the limo? God, she was mad! Oh, and I remember—”

Blah, blah, blah. I move away, sick and unsteady. So does this mean Danny went skiing with Caitlin? And purposely didn’t tell me because he knew I wouldn’t like it?

I wish like hell I’d never come to this stupid party. Nobody’s talking to me, I didn’t think to bring a gift, and the music they’re listening to sucks beyond belief. I hide out in the kitchen for a while, stuffing my face with Fritos and listening to Danny’s dad howling uproariously in the next room. He’s had a few too many. God, I wish I could join him!

When I get back to the family room, Nikki and Natalie are gone. Completely invisible to everyone else, I fetch my coat and slink out the back door into the garage. My heart pings at the sight of Danny’s red Corvette. Do I consider myself dumped, or do I have to wait till it’s announced?

Swallowing hard, I rub the hickey under my turtleneck. Voices hum just beyond the door at the other end of the garage. I move closer in time to hear Natalie say, “…with my dad acting like an obnoxious asshole as usual. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Nikki answers. “Been there, done that.”

“At least your dad’s sober now.”

“Yeah, well. Who knows for how long?”

“At least he goes to meetings. Mine won’t.”

“Well, mine has no choice if he wants to stay married to my mom.”

Meetings? As in AA meetings?
Mr. Brinkman?

Edging closer, I sneak a peek through the window. Natalie, huddled in the crushed snow against the side of the garage, puffs on a cigarette before passing it to Nikki. Trust me on this one: it’s not tobacco they’re smoking.

“They still doing okay?” Natalie’s foggy breath clouds her semiskeletal face.

“Far as I can tell.”

“They talking about it yet?”

“About Rachel? Nah. Not a single friggin’ word.”

“Well, you’re just as bad,” Natalie points out.

“What’s to talk about? I mean, it’s been almost two years.”

“You miss her?”

“Duh! What do you think?”

“Well, you always said she got on your nerves,” Natalie reminds her.

“I did not!”

“No big deal, Nik. Sisters get on each other’s nerves all the time. Brothers, too,” she adds darkly.

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

Damn. Why not? I found out more about this family in the past five minutes than I’ve been able to learn over the past few weeks.

“Pretty good.” Nikki, mellowing out, watches a puff of pot smoke curl away from her lips and vanish into the air. “Way better than the crap I got from Justin last week.”

I swear I don’t know what blows me away more, finding out that Mr. Brinkman’s in AA or watching Nikki smoke a joint.

“So what’s the story with what’s-her-face?” Natalie asks abruptly. “Is she banging my brother? C’mon, Nik. I know he tells you everything.”

“Hey, why don’t you ask him yourself?”

“I’m not asking him anything. He couldn’t even hang around for my party.”

“Yeah, that was harsh. Anyway,” Nikki adds, lowering her voice, “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think she prefers her guys a
lit
-tle bit darker.”

“Huh?”

“We’re getting ready to come over here, right? And she’s got this box or something that she keeps all her junk in, and there’s this picture of some black guy, with hugs
and
kisses all over the back!”

Natalie nearly strangles on her next toke. “Shut
up!”

“Swear to God, Nat, I almost peed my pants. Oh, and then she like grabs it right out of my hand. It was funny as hell. You should’ve seen her face.”

“Well, you know what they say about men of color.” Giggling,
Natalie whispers something to Nikki, something that sends them both into a spluttering fit. And I know what she said, because Shavonne told me it’s true.

Spinning around, I rush back toward the house, whacking my leg against the bumper of the car. This is just—too—much! First Danny sneaking off to New York like that. What did he think? I wouldn’t come to this party, wouldn’t figure it out? Then I find out Mr. Brinkman goes to AA. How is that even possible? He’s the most perfect person I know! And now his treacherous daughter is starting rumors about me?

Somehow I endure the rest of this suck-fest, only because Mr. and Mrs. Brinkman hang around till the very end. I hit my bed the instant I get home, but sleep doesn’t come. Instead, I keep imagining a ski lodge and two shadowy figures in front of a fire, sipping spiked hot chocolate, laughing and whispering, then sneaking off to have mad, passionate sex. Because even though it’d been my first time, no way can I say the same for Danny. That one-handed rubber trick of his gave him away.

Huh. I bet Caitlin isn’t afraid to take off her clothes. I bet she prances around naked with hardware through her nipples. I twist and flop, knotting the sheets around my throat. What if he gives her his ring again? What if I lose him forever?

Finally I sleep, and then I don’t want to wake up. I spend the next day in bed with only Taffy for company, wondering if this is how Momma feels when she locks herself up in her room.

Finally Nikki pounces in and tosses me the phone. My pulse quadruples its speed when I hear Danny say, “Nat told me you were at the party yesterday. God, Gina. I’m so stupid! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you I wouldn’t be there. We’ve been planning this trip for weeks and there was like no way out of it. Honestly, Gina. I’m really sorry.”

Oh—my—God. He didn’t dump me at all. He did forget! A totally honest mistake that anybody could make. Why do I always jump to the wrong conclusions? Do I enjoy making myself miserable?

“You want to get something to eat?” he asks hopefully.

“Oh, I guess.” A pathetic attempt to sound relaxed. “Give me an hour, okay?”

One hour later he sweeps me into his arms. Once again he begs me to forgive him. Well, of course I do. How could I not? And I’m proud of myself for not asking about Caitlin. Maybe she was with him…but then again, maybe not.

Maybe I’d rather not know.

“Come home with me, okay?” he says, mouth warm against my ear.

I don’t even think of saying no. His house is dark, and he lets us in with his key, and five seconds later we’re back in his room. This time I let him pull off my clothes, one piece at a time, and drop them to the floor. He dumps me on the bed, still whispering in my ear. I soak up each magical word as the mattress bounces beneath us, waiting for that “feeling” I hear so much about, the one that’ll make me gasp and shriek like Meg Ryan in
When Harry Met Sally.

No such luck.

“I love you.” Danny, when he can talk again, pants this through a mouthful of my hair.

I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling his stubble on my collarbone, his breath on my neck. “I love you, too.”

No, he
couldn’t
have been with Caitlin. There is just no way.

…

Nikki pokes her head out of her door when I make it back home two minutes before curfew. “See? You were all freaked out for nothing.”

“Who said I was freaked out?”

“Well, nobody saw you all day. I thought maybe you slit your wrists or something. You know, since Danny went to New York and all.”

Am I imagining it, or does she seem pleased at this idea? Feeling my secret inner bitch begin to rear her ugly head, I toss Nikki one of her own go-to-hell hand flips and sashay into my room. If I say one word, we’ll both be sorry.

Too dense to take a hint, Nikki follows me in. “Um, are you mad at me or something?”

“Why?” I kick off my clothes and pull on my pj’s. “Oh! You mean because you told Natalie I already have a boyfriend even though you
know
it’s a total lie?”

“What? No, wait, no, I didn’t, I mean, I—”

And she’s a liar on top of it.

“I’m not deaf,” I remind her. “I heard every word you said.”

Nikki recovers faster than I expected. “Well, even if he is, it’s kind of cool, I think, hooking up with a black guy. Not that
I’d
have the guts to do it. But you’re so earthy, Gina. You kind of do what you want, and don’t even care what people think. Right?”

Wrong. I care a lot. That’s my whole problem.

“Do you mind?” I ask, because she’s blocking the bathroom door. “I’d like to brush my teeth.”

Eyeing me nervously, she steps aside. “So what else did you hear?” Translation: Are you gonna rat me out for toking behind the garage?

Ha! Now it’s Nikki’s turn to worry and sweat, and hope nobody finds out her embarrassing secrets.

“ ’Night, Nikki,” I say sweetly as I close the door in her face. How did I ever think we could possibly be friends?

35

Question to myself: How would I feel if Shavonne disappeared from the face of the planet?

Answer to myself: Exceedingly shitty.

I mean, it’s not like I have to tell her where I am. All I have to do is let her know I’m alive. And since Mr. Brinkman just gave me a cool little cell phone of my own, I don’t have to worry about “Brinkman” popping up on any caller ID.

But when I dial her number, her phone is out of service, so now there’s only one thing left for me to do. After finishing up with my cello lesson one day, I take the rapid transit to Public Square, then grab a bus to the projects. At school I told Nikki that I’d be stopping at a friend’s, and she asked, What friend? like I have no friends of my own. I gaze out the grimy bus window at a neighborhood that’s ten times worse than I remember, right down to the squished cat on the curb and some dude peeing on a dumpster.

Swinging my cello case, I leap off the bus and race to Shavonne’s. “Hi. Remember me?”

Shavonne’s mouth hangs open. “Wow. What the fuck?”

I haven’t heard that word for so long, it makes me break into a grin. “I called you a couple of times, but your phone’s been disconnected.”

“Well, that’s what happens ain’t nobody payin’ the bill.”

I breeze in and proudly model my exquisite black coat, but she looks me up and down without any oohs or ahhs. Her un-braided hair fans out in a dark cloud, and she’s skinnier than ever. “You sick or something?”

“Why?” she asks snarkily. “ ’Fraid you’ll catch something?”

“Don’t be stupid. You just look …” Sick, I finish silently.

“My mom’s in the hospital. And Aunt Bernice moved in with us, and she’s on my last livin’ nerve! Bitch even let my cat out and I ain’t seen her since. Yeah, I’m sick!”

I remember, but don’t mention, the dead cat on the curb. “Sorry about your mom.”

Shavonne shrugs this off. “So where you been, anyway?”

I think each word carefully before I say it out loud. “My mom’s in rehab again, so I’m in a foster home now.”

“Get out! Where at?”

“Um, not far. It’s a nice place. Nice people, too.” I rush on before she can ask any questions about my new “family.”

“And guess what? I got a boyfriend. And guess what else? We did it!”