If I Tell (11 page)

“Whatever.” I pulled down the strap on my seat belt, buckling myself in and crossing my arms as he pulled away from the curb. Tina stared at us from the school yard as we drove away.

He drove past the high school and turned right at the light instead of left.

“McDonald’s is the other way,” I told him.

“I know. I thought we’d go to the one at the mall. The one by the high school’s always so packed. Especially at noon.”

“I have a class at one.”

“I said I’ll have you back on time. Don’t worry.” He sounded pissed off and drove for a moment before saying anything else. “So. How’s school?” he asked, like it was an effort to be friendly.

“It’s fine.” I reached for the volume knob on his stereo and cranked up the music, even though it was a CD of stupid hip-hop songs I couldn’t stand.

He bobbed his head to the music, not even appreciating my intentional rudeness.

When we got to the mall, we went to the food court. Simon pointed to an open table and told me to save us seats. He headed to a line to order for us, and I stomped to the empty table and sat waiting for him, wanting to take off and leave him all alone.

A few minutes later he joined me, carrying a plastic tray covered with fast food.

“Big Mac, large fries, large Coke?” he said, unloading the food from the tray. My standard order.

“You should have asked before you ordered for me,” I snapped, just to be disagreeable.

“Oh.” He looked upset. “Sorry. I just assumed since that’s what you always get. I got a Chicken Grill. You can have mine if you want.”

My fingers reached for the burger. “It’s okay,” I mumbled, feeling silly. “I don’t want to wreck your diet. I know older guys like you need to watch what they eat.”

He eyeballed his chicken sandwich and unwrapped it, ignoring my dig. “So, I’m worried about your mom. I thought you might be able to help.”

The burger that hovered in my hand, poised for a bite, lost all its appeal. I dropped it in the wrapper on my tray. My appetite vanished for good.

“Why are you worried about my mom?”

His eyebrows pressed together, and apprehension radiated from his dark skin. I had a vivid image of him pressing up against Lacey and wanted to reach across the table to smack him. Hard. To leave an imprint on that skin.

“She’s. Well, she’s acting really…” He struggled for a word. “Odd.”

“She’s really pregnant,” I said. Did he really need to be reminded?

“I know. But it’s more than that. I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t seem happy with me. With anything, really. And she’s angry. Really angry. All the time. Man, I wish my mom was alive. I’d ask her these questions.”

I wished Simon’s mom was still alive too. Stupid cancer. I couldn’t stand his wounded expression. I looked over at the table beside us. Girls younger than me giggled and flirted with a nearby table of boys. Middle-school kids probably skipping class. I envied them.

“What do you expect me to do?” I asked, still watching the kids.

“I don’t know. Nobody knows her as well as you do. I thought maybe she said something to you when you went shopping. About why she’s so unhappy.”

My eyes narrowed. “She’s pregnant, Simon. She has raging hormones, and she’s gaining weight. You know how she is about her looks. It’s probably normal for her to act grumpy.”

His shoulders drooped, and he ran a hand through his tight black curls. “I don’t know. I’ve talked to a couple of other guys with kids, and they said their wives were fine. I mean, moody and kooky when they were pregnant, but not like her. She’s more…I don’t think she’s supposed to be like this.”

“So? Are you asking for my permission to walk out on her? Because she’s not acting the way you think a pregnant woman should act?”

His expression changed. He looked almost offended. “I’m not leaving her. I’m worried about her.”

Raw emotion crept into his features, making him look older and troubled. There were new wrinkles under his eyes and bags, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. And his cheeks were drawn, thinner.

For an instant I felt sorry for him, the old Simon, the one I used to get along with. I remembered how he used to make me laugh. And the serious talks we’d had too. I stared at the table, remembering once when we’d been goofing around in the living room at home. Mom was in the kitchen trying to help Grandma make dinner.

He had pressed his arm up beside mine.

“We’re almost the same shade,” he’d said.

I’d bit my lip shyly and nodded. “I don’t know anyone else like me,” I told him.

“There’s lots of people like you. Maybe not in Tadita but in other places. Lots, so don’t you forget it.”

I looked up at Simon. At his warm, caring eyes. He’d helped me, made me feel less alone.

And then the other memory flashed in my mind. The sight of him devouring Lacey. It made me feel sick. I glared at him, full of hate.

He deserved to be miserable. Maybe it was karma. Payback. I shrugged and took a bite of my hamburger, even though chewing it gave me as much joy as gnawing on leather. I choked down a mouthful.

“What do I know? I’m seventeen. I don’t know how pregnant women act.” I picked up my drink and slurped.

Simon shifted on his chair.

I wanted to add that I didn’t know how expectant fathers acted either, but making out with younger women probably wasn’t exactly normal.

He picked up his chicken sandwich but didn’t bite into it. “God. I’m a jerk. I forget sometimes how you must feel about your dad. I, of all people, should get the dad thing.” He pasted a grown-up, understanding expression on his face. “When my dad left us to go to England, I felt completely abandoned. Like yesterday’s trash. Like it was my fault somehow that he would take off to another country and choose not to see his sons.”

He put the chicken sandwich back down. “It’s too heavy. I shouldn’t have come to you with this. It’s fine. Your mom is fine.” He picked up his lunch, ripped off part of his sandwich with his teeth, and chomped.

“Simon,” I told him slowly. “This has nothing to do with my dad or lack of. Trust me. And I really don’t know how she’s supposed to behave. She’s having a baby.”

“I know. Forget it. It’s fine. She’s just pregnant. I’m being stupid.” He sucked on his straw, drinking his Diet Coke. “I’m not leaving,” he added. “In case you’re worried. I love her. I’m not going anywhere.”

I swallowed another bite of hamburger. It tasted like lumpy clay and hurt going down. I wanted to spit out the truth, to tell him what I’d seen. Him. With Lacey. I wanted to scream. Purge the ugliness from inside me. I opened my mouth.

“So. How’s song writing?” Simon asked in a lighter tone, obviously trying to move on to a safer topic. “Written anything new?”

I held my breath, trying to force myself to tell him what I had seen. I opened my mouth and then closed it, hating myself. I wanted to tell him what I thought of it, of him. But I couldn’t do it. Instead, I just nodded.

“What’s the song about?” He reached across the tray and grabbed a handful of my fries, shoving them into his mouth. He wasn’t as cool as he pretended to be. Mom said he only ate fattening food when something was bothering him.

I pushed the rest of the fries toward him. “Have them. I’m not hungry.” I hoped he’d gain 20 pounds. In his gut. And lose all his hair.

“Well?” he asked.

“It’s about betrayal. Inspired by things in my life.” I dropped my burger for good. My fingers wrapped around my charm bracelet, and I tried to calm myself.

Simon shoveled fries into his mouth, still watching me. “Who betrayed you?” he asked. His frenzied chewing stopped.

“No one. It’s nothing. Just teen stuff.”

“You can talk to me.” He smiled without showing teeth. “We’re almost related, right? I’d like to help.”

Beside me, one of the young girls snickered at something.

“No. You can’t,” I told him.

Simon leaned forward, his broad smile mocking the rage inside of me. “Of course I can. Some of us guys are good ones. Let’s face it. You’re stuck with me now.”

Anger flushed my cheeks. Stuck with him and keeping his secret. I started to stand and Simon reached for me. Almost in slow motion, as if on its own accord, my hand lifted. Simon’s smile turned into a puzzled frown. Then a loud bang like a gun being fired filled the air. My hand smacked against his flesh.

“Jaz, what’s wrong with you?”

An old woman standing behind Simon gasped, but for a second I saw a flash of satisfaction in her eye. Simon’s face registered shock, hurt, and disbelief.

We stared at each other, and then I spun around. My arm caught the corner of our tray. Food clattered on the floor, and the sound of it mixed with amused giggles from people sitting around us.

I ran. I raced out into the mall, afraid he’d be on my heels. When it became obvious he wasn’t, I stopped. I dug inside my jacket pocket and grabbed my cell. Dialed. It rang once.

“Hello?” said an impatient voice.

I glanced around. “Mom? It’s me.” Simon definitely wasn’t following.

“Jaz? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I was just, you know, thinking about you.”

“That’s sweet. But I’m at work and busy. Is there something important you need to talk to me about?” She sounded annoyed.

I paused. “Not really.” Every fiber screamed at me to tell her. “I, um, wondered how you’re doing. With the pregnancy and all.”

“I’m uncomfortable as hell. If this baby even thinks about being late, I will reach up and yank it out of my body myself.”

I made a face. “Mom. Gross.”

She sighed. “Well, you asked. Did Simon ask you to call me? To see if I was okay?”

I didn’t answer.

“Damn him. I told him not to.”

So perceptive about some things and so oblivious about others.

“He didn’t ask me to call. We kind of had a fight.”

“Oh, Jaz. I really don’t have time for this now.” Mom sighed and lowered her voice. Her crisp, professional voice switched on. “Listen, honey. I’m about to see an important client. I have to go. Can we deal with this later?”

“Never mind.” I paused. “It’s nothing,” I said. “I love you,” I added softly, but she’d already hung up.

My fingers clutched the phone for a minute, and my eyes blinked fast to keep back the tears.

“Hey.” A voice called, interrupting my thoughts.

I wiped under my eyes and looked up at the instantly recognizable voice. Nathan.

“What’re you doing at the mall? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” He crossed his arms in front of himself.

I pushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

“Mmm. Check out that brown sugar,” Nathan mumbled as a black girl with enormous hair extensions walked toward us. He didn’t take his eyes off her butt as she strutted past. “No matter what else, you black girls have the nicest asses.”

“Who said I was black?”

Nathan laughed and tore his eyes away from the girl’s butt. “Look in the mirror.”

I crossed my arms. “My mom’s white.”

Nathan shrugged. “So’s Halle Berry’s mom, but I don’t see her denying her heritage. She’s a proud black woman.”

“Whatever.” Debating skin color wasn’t high on my to-do list.

“What’re you doing here anyhow?” He grinned. “Looking for me?” His grin turned nasty.

My insides crawled. I whipped around and almost knocked over a girl standing behind me.

I froze. It was Tina. She snapped her gum, looking amused. She slipped past me and slid her arm through Nathan’s. I wondered if she’d followed me there.

“Well, lookie here. A girl goes to the bathroom, and who sneaks over to try to steal my guy?” She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “You’re old news, Miss Thing.”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I gaped at her, not moving or blinking.

“What happened to the hot old guy?” Tina asked and turned to Nathan. “She left school with some older black dude.”

I didn’t answer. Tina looked at Nathan. “She doesn’t say much, does she?”

“That was probably Simon, her mom’s boyfriend,” Nathan said.

“Figures. Not like someone who’s not gay or related is going to take her anywhere.”

“Shut up.” My hands clenched into fists.

Nathan snorted but looked away from me as if he was embarrassed.

“Oh. That’s right. You do talk.” Tina grinned and blew a big pink bubble and turned to Nathan. “Your ex here is after a drug dealer now, you know that?”

“That guy’s a loser. Anyhow, I’m not into her.” Nathan put an arm around Tina’s shoulder and leaned over to slurp at her neck with his tongue. It made me want to vomit, but I couldn’t stop staring at them, unable to move.

He glanced up from attacking her neck like it was dessert. “I guess I like my sugar white too.”

“Much tastier,” Tina added.

I regained control of my limbs and turned, but not before Tina shot me a triumphant look. She broke away from Nathan and leaned forward to whisper in my ear.

“Sorry about taking your man. Oh, wait. No, I’m not.” She giggled. “Thought I’d see what all the fuss is about. You may be on to something. It is true what they say about black men, isn’t it?”

I pushed her back and hurried toward the mall exit. My insides churned. Tina was with Nathan? I thought about taking a bus to Grinds and begging Lacey to tell me what she knew, but with a rush of heat to my face, I remembered. Lacey wasn’t my friend anymore.

Instead of going to her, I climbed on the bus taking me back to school.

I said a silent prayer that the new romance between Tina and Nathan wouldn’t cause me more problems. I didn’t need help making my life any worse.

Adjusting the guitar strap on my shoulder, I hurried up the front steps of the church and tiptoed down the hallway, a little nauseated by the stuffy air. It smelled like the trunk in Grandma’s closet filled with Grandpa’s old clothes and personal items. I headed to the kitchen and found Grandma sorting piles of packaged food on the long counter and talking to a girl about the same age as me. Grandma looked up and motioned me closer. I tried to tell by her expression if she’d heard about my fight with Simon or missing classes, but she merely seemed preoccupied.

“Jasmine, hi. This is Tanya. She’s helping me put together food baskets.”

I nodded at the girl, noticing her old clothes. No brand names on the jeans or plain blue sweatshirt. She smiled, friendly but cautious. I smiled back and sneaked another look at Grandma, breathing slower with relief.

From the back entrance, a pimply, tall boy walked into the kitchen, dangling a toddler in his arms.

“She needs her diaper changed, Tanya,” he said with a squeamish grin and held the baby out.

Tanya put down a loaf of bread and hurried to the baby, cooing as she took her from the boy. She grabbed a diaper bag off the floor and disappeared around the corner toward the washrooms.

“If you can’t handle that duty, Charlie, go bring in more groceries from the truck,” Grandma ordered. “We’ve got twenty-five baskets to get out tonight, and the driver will be here in half an hour.”

The boy grinned and nodded. “Deal.” He headed back the way he’d come in.

Grandma shook her head and picked up the loaf of bread.

“That boy will not change diapers.”

I didn’t say anything.

“She’s a good mom for such a young girl, and Charlie tries. They’re good kids.” She motioned me closer. “They volunteer almost every food-basket night.”

I nodded. The girl would be about the same age as my mom when she had me. A couple of older kids marched into the kitchen carrying boxes of canned goods. Grandma rushed over, inspecting the boxes and pointing to the counter.

She looked over her shoulder. “Jasmine, your group is downstairs in the meeting room. Cede will help you out tonight, but after this week you’ll have to handle the equipment yourself, so pay attention. Some of your group will use the karaoke machine, and some will want you to play guitar. You’ll figure it out, right?”

I shifted the guitar on my shoulder. “Um. I guess. How many people?”

“Ten or twelve, I think. It’s the bereavement group’s social night. They voted for singing.”

“Bereavement?” As in sad old people? Great.

“Most of them lost a spouse in the last year or so. Don’t worry. They’re not going to cry or demand therapy. They’re here for fun.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“Here.” She handed a sheet to Charlie. “Take this list and start putting together a box.” She glanced over at me. “Cede’s downstairs. She’ll explain. Go. She’s waiting.”

I turned to leave, almost crashing into another girl who was walking into the kitchen with a stack of food in her arms. I blinked. It was Lacey.

“Hey. What’s up? What’re you doing here?” Lacey asked.

“Me? What about you?”

“Didn’t I tell you Jasmine was helping out with karaoke night?” Grandma called to us. “I swear I lost my memory in the ’90s.” She gestured at Lacey. “Lacey’s been helping me out with food baskets for the past couple months. But of course, you knew that.”

“Uh. No.”

Lacey put down her pile of food. “Don’t look so surprised,” she said.

Grandma groaned when Charlie knocked over a pile of canned goods. She raced away after a rolling can.

“I didn’t know you were helping out my grandma,” I said to Lacey.

“I guess that’s because you’ve been so busy avoiding me,” Lacey sniffed. “Anyway. I’m not doing it to impress you. Your grandma asked for my help. And I like it.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to feel sorry for her or forgive her for her tendency to go after inappropriate men. Like my mom’s boyfriend, I reminded myself and headed for the exit.

“Jaz?” Lacey called as I started to leave.

I turned.

“You ever going to forgive me?” Lacey asked softly.

I glanced at Grandma, but she was busy piling up cans. I lifted my shoulder but didn’t answer.

“How’s your mom doing? I saw her the other day.” Lacey glanced at Grandma, but she wasn’t paying attention to us. “She wasn’t very friendly.”

I scowled. “She doesn’t know,” I whispered harshly. “She’s having a hard time with her pregnancy, that’s all.”

Grandma looked up then and pointed at her watch.

“I gotta go,” I told Lacey. “I’m doing karaoke downstairs.”

Lacey’s face loosened. “With the seniors?”

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips. “Yup.”

“Have fun with that, Spazzy.”

Without thinking, I laughed out loud. A long time ago, Lacey and I promised each other we’d grow old together. Be roommates at an old folks’ home. We’d called ourselves Spazzy and Looney and wreak havoc on the old men.

“I miss you, Spazzy,” Lacey whispered. “You’re my best friend.”

My laughter disappeared. “I gotta go. See ya.” I headed downstairs, wanting to get away from her and from the heaviness in my heart.

***

Karaoke went smoothly, but the sad voices of lonely seniors crawled under my skin. One old man reminded me so much of Grandpa that my heart ached. He asked me to play a Neil Diamond song on the guitar, and as he sang along, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying. I hurried out of the church when I was done, avoiding Grandma and Lacey.

I swung my guitar strap on my shoulder so it was comfortable and began to walk. I didn’t think about where I was going or why. I just walked. Loneliness throbbed so badly inside that I struggled with my breathing. But I stared ahead and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Before I knew it, I was at Grinds.

I went inside. Behind the counter in the Pit, Jackson was spraying whipped cream onto a specialty coffee. He spotted me, and his smile warmed my insides. Instantly my impulse to come to see him seemed okay and not the stupidest idea I’d ever had. I hurried closer.

“I’m not stalking you,” I said when I was close to him.

“Damn,” he answered and placed the drink he’d finished making on the counter. “And here I was hoping.”

A man in a suit gave me a dirty look and cut in front of me to grab the mug of steaming coffee. I stepped back, but I didn’t take my eyes off Jackson. He was so handsome. So polite to the customers. The man grabbed his coffee and moved out of the way. I took a deep breath. It was now or never.

“Do you remember what you said about a rain check?” I asked.

Jackson nodded without hesitating. “Of course. No expiration date.”

I let out a breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding, while clinging to my guitar for dear life.

“Well.” I gnawed my lip. “I was wondering. If, well…when you get off, if I could, you know, take you up on it. I mean, could we talk?”

He glimpsed down at his wrist. “I’m off in fifteen. After that, I’m all yours.”

I nodded, the combination of relief and nerves making speech temporarily impossible. For a minute I wished. Well, I wished that he really was all mine. Not just a friend.

But I needed a friend. I glanced around the coffee shop and then at the bookstore next door. “I’ll come back. You’re sure you’re not too busy?”

“I’m sure.” He grinned. “Hey, you were volunteering tonight, right?”

I bobbed my head up and down like a moron.

“How’d you get here?”

“I walked.”

He stood on his tiptoes and peered over the counter at my feet. “Well, at least you had your shoes on this time.”

I laughed, and more of my tension drained. It would be okay. I could talk to Jackson. Trust him. No matter what else, he was a good person. Inside. Where it counted.

I wandered over to the bookstore until Jackson’s shift was over. When I returned, he was clocking out. He lifted his hand in a wave and motioned me over.

“You want to grab a seat in here?” Jackson asked from behind the counter.

“Um. Would you mind if we went somewhere else?”

Jackson didn’t miss a beat. “You want to head over to Gracie’s?” he asked. “They have awesome apple pie. I’m starving.”

I nodded, my heart thumping. What if I told him the secret and everything went wrong? Could I really trust him?