Outcast (30 page)

Without offering me the chance to respond, Tori stood up and retrieved a bottle from a cooler. She opened it and handed it to me.

“Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Noelle.”

“Cool. What are you majoring in?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“That’s cool. I didn’t know what I wanted to major in right away. Are you a freshman?”

I simply nodded my lie, then gulped the beer, hoping to rinse away the events of the dance.

“Who are you here with?”

“Pete.” I motioned to where he stood.

“Cool.” Everything was cool to her. “Boyfriend?”

“No,” I said. “He’s with my friend.” I pointed them out. 

I thought I put up a pretty good show for a sixteen-year-old. The conversation lulled for awhile. My chair faced the door, and I considered leaving to return to the dance. If I could find a way back to
Scottsdale
, I would know for sure if he and Trina were together. I felt a tinge of guilt for running off without saying anything to him, but it quickly passed when I replayed the scene between the two of them in my head.  

“Wow. He’s so hot,” Tori declared.

“I know,” Sheila responded.

I turned to look. A number of guys stood around the room, but the girls focused on one in particular. Jake. He stood on the other side of the room, talking to a girl, beer bottle in hand. He looked gorgeous. He wore Levi’s and a white T-shirt covered by an open bowling shirt. I hadn’t seen him in ages. Being with
Chad
made me completely forget his existence. Now it all came rushing back at me. The attraction I once felt for him brewed inside. Before it was a drizzle. This time it was a rainfall.

But he was with somebody, possibly a girlfriend. I felt overwhelmed by the sight of him and suddenly felt the effects of the alcohol. I stood, completely opening the split in my skirt. I knew Tori and Sheila paid each other a look.

“Excuse me.”

I hurried outside, hoping the cooler air would calm me. The last thing I needed to see was Jake with someone, too. It made the feeling of aloneness that much stronger.  

Bob smoked a cigarette on the porch. “Hey!  What’s up?”

I ignored the cordiality. “Can I bum a cigarette?”

“Sure.” He handed one to me and lit it. “Everything okay?”

“Uh huh.” I drifted away from him, venturing toward the lawn while I inhaled the nicotine.

“Want some company?”

“No, thanks.” I headed toward the darkened street, trying to figure out how things went so wrong for me. I listened to the crickets keeping time with the bass of the music and thought of all the people who abandoned me. My sister, my father, Grace, and now
Chad
. Even Cassie deserted me the moment she stepped into the party. What was the point in getting close to anyone? No one ever stayed.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned around. Pete stood there, buzzed. I finished my cigarette and extinguished it with the toe of my spangled shoe.

“Want a hit?” He extended a joint to me.

The more inebriated I became, the more I hoped the memory of
Chad
and Trina would fade. I decided to smoke with Pete. We perched ourselves on the edge of the curb, side by side.

“I like your dress.” I felt his eyes climb all over me.

“Thanks,” I said hesitantly, giving him a sideways glance. Then I took a drag from the reefer.

“It’s…nice.” He fingered an inch of fabric near my thigh.

I scooted away, feeling his eyes on me again. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine. I shoved him away.

“What are you doing?” I yelled.

“It’s just that you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh yeah,” I said. “What’s so beautiful about me?”

If I truly was desirable, why did
Chad
have his hands and lips all over Trina instead of me?

“Everything.” He moved his hand beneath the opening in my skirt and kissed me again.

“Like what?” I leaned away, removing his hand from my bare leg.

“Your eyes, your lips, your neck…” Pete kissed the curve of it, practically pushing me onto my back as he devoured me at the curbside. The smell of sweat, marijuana, and cologne mixed like a failed chemistry experiment. I kept my eyes open, wanting to witness it all. “Your sexy body…” His hands were all over me, trying to unfasten the mystery of the dress.

“Don’t my freckles disgust you?” I pushed at him, not at all aroused by his advances.

“They’re sexy.” His mouth explored my face; his hot breath trailed over my skin like an unseen specter. He pushed himself toward me again, growing increasingly aggressive. That time I tasted the sour beer on his tongue as he pushed it into my mouth.

“I was a nerd. I wore glasses and had a bad hair. People still call me loser. Doesn’t that turn you off?”

“No.”

As high and buzzed as I was, coupled with the betrayal I felt from
Chad
, I was ready to pour my sorrows into a night with him. I needed to be desired by somebody, even if it was Pete.

He helped me to my feet, eager to ensconce himself in my flesh. The moment I stood, I froze. Jake descended the stairs to the lawn. He was alone. I dropped Pete’s hand. After seeing Jake, the thought of giving myself to Pete sickened me. Jake paused along the pathway to speak briefly with people.

“I can’t go with you.”

“Why not? Cassie never has to know.”

He leaned in for a kiss, but I dodged it. I eyed Jake from across the yard.

“I mean it. Cassie’s my friend.”

“So.”

“I’m sixteen years old.”

Pete heaved a sigh. “So is Cassie. Big deal.” He grabbed at me.

“My dad’s a cop,” I lied, piercing his mind with a slew of possibilities.

The same eyes that lusted after me moments before, suddenly grew frosty and unfeeling.

“You bitch.”

I returned the icy stare.

“I didn’t want to fuck you anyway. Nobody would, you loser.” He tried to hurt me, but I was far beyond feeling anything anymore.

I edged back to the curb, looking over my shoulder at Jake as he said the last of his good-byes.

He headed in the opposite direction, never seeing me.

I heard voices along the street, remnants of a party that slowly broke up. Everyone had a destination. Everyone but me. I had nowhere to go. I was alone. I rested my head in my hands, wondering where I should turn now, wondering about
Chad
. 

“You idiot! Your car’s over there,” someone yelled.

“Just a little turned around,” the voice from behind me shouted back. I raised my head and turned to see Jake.

“Hey,” he greeted me in passing, not recognizing me at first. Then he stopped and turned. "Noelle?”

I remained silent, not wanting him to see me cry. He already had a younger sister to take care of. He didn’t need another one.

“I didn’t recognize you. You look…nice.”

I looked down at the slit exposing my entire leg and quickly pinched it together. 

“What are you doing out here? It’s twelve-thirty.”

I said nothing.

“Need a ride?” His eyes combed my face. “Someone to talk to?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“How about just the ride?”

Jake navigated the intersections of
Tempe
. The traffic around the university was still heavy for one o’clock in the morning.
Mill Avenue
, where he once took me, buzzed with pedestrians who spilled out of the clubs and bars.

I felt nervous being so close to him. Instead of suppressing my anxiety, the pot and alcohol intensified it. I clung to the passenger’s side door.

“You haven’t been around the house lately.” He filled the silence with small talk.

“Yeah, well Grace has new friends now.”

“Like Trina,” he stated. A trace of sarcasm seemed to dust his tone, but I wasn’t entirely certain.

“Yeah, Trina.”

As Jake wound his way along the side streets, I wondered if anything happened between the two of them. Perhaps he was yet another guy who she managed to catch in her claws.

“I bet they’re good friends by now.”

“You don’t like her?”

My silence answered his question.

“You know, she tried to kiss me once,” he confessed.

“Oh?” I tried hard to curb my emotions. He remained keen to my responses, measuring each one like a scientist with a beaker.

He smiled and continued. “I drove her home one night. When we arrived at her house, she leaned in and tried to kiss me. I must have given her the wrong impression.”

Yeah
, I thought to myself,
he could do that
.

He pulled into the driveway of a one-story adobe. I assumed it was the one he shared with his roommates.

“What do you think?” He turned off the ignition and gazed at me.

“About what?”

I glanced around at everything—the dashboard, the house, the streetlight—doing all I could to avoid staring into those denim eyes.

“Do you think I give off the wrong impression?”

“I don’t know.”

I finally looked at him. That night, he was better looking than I remembered.

Jake grabbed my hand and led me to his room. He pushed the door open, then shut it behind us. I sat on the unmade bed. The mess of clothing and bedding blended together. He sat next to me. My brain sent shivers to the rest of my body.

“Do you think she’s beautiful?” I asked.

“Who?”

“Trina.”

“No.”

“Some girls at the party said you were hot.” The combination of nerves and beer suddenly made me too honest, too chatty.

Flattery sculpted a smile on his face. He looked at me a little too long. “And you? What do you think?”

His question touched all my nerve endings.

“I think I shouldn’t drink anymore.” I searched the room, hoping to find a distraction. There were only clothes crumpled on the floor like ruined paper, an historical marker of unremembered nights passed in this place. The room was dim. The only light came from a street lamp outside, which filtered through the blinds, creating stripes across the bed. I turned back to Jake, thinking he may have forgotten me. He didn’t. He caressed me with his gentle gaze. 

“You know what I think?”

I was afraid to ask.

He traced my freckles with his index finger then planted a kiss on my lips like Boardwalk taffy, pulling back gently from the stickiness of it. I had never been kissed that way before. It felt warm, and I wanted to taste more of his mouth, his full lips.

Pushing my hair back, his finger drew imagined lines of calligraphy around my ear, along the strands of my hair, down to the first button that held my dress together. He unfastened it, and the material dropped slightly, revealing more freckles at the base of my neck, the top of my chest. He outlined the angle where the material met my skin and unfastened the series of loops. He pulled them all apart slowly and methodically until there were no more to be undone. I closed my eyes, drew in thoughtful breaths, not knowing what to expect, but wishing for more. The top of the dress fell away, exposing my milk-white breasts.

“Tell me this is wrong. Tell me to stop,” he begged though he continued to trace patterns on my skin. I said nothing. It didn’t feel wrong to me. In Jake I found a sanctuary, even if it was just for one night.

I crawled out of my skirt, my panties, and inched closer to him, feeling everything would be all right. Together, we peeled his clothes away and tangled ourselves around each other. When he laid me back and pressed his weight against me, I knew I found my true rescuer.

I awoke to the chattering of birds. My head drummed. I felt nauseated. Too much beer, possibly the pot.

I looked around the room. My clothes were bunched on the floor, and Jake was gone. I gathered my things and dressed. It all seemed surreal, like looking too deeply into an M.C. Escher drawing and getting lost. My perspective on the night’s events w
as
all askew. What happened the previous evening couldn’t possibly be real. I felt as though I had hallucinated. Again, probably just the pot.

I emerged from the bedroom. The house was quiet. It smelled of stale cigarettes and freshly-brewed coffee. Someone was awake.

Mike sat at the kitchen table. He wore a wrinkled T-shirt and boxers. His hair was ruffled from sleep, and dark circles outlined his eyes. I felt uncomfortable around him because he knew what went on last night.

“He’s not here. He went to work.” No greeting or formalities. Just bitterness. “Want some coffee?” His tone suggested that it was better if I said
no
.

“I have to go.”

I wound myself around the door into the blinding light of day. The summer sun already crushed the temperate night air. Things seemed different. I searched the sky, the palm trees, the fairy dusters that lined the driveway. They were unaffected by the night. I was the one who had changed, and no one cared. I realized that the world didn’t stop because of the experience I had. I wished it had.

The twinkling shoes from Aunt P felt like vice grips around my feet as I limped down the driveway. Sure enough, the Honda was gone. Once again, I experienced the feeling of abandonment. Jake rescued me from my own crucifixion, but he wasn’t willing to remove the thorns. At the moment, they all seemed buried in my toes.

I hobbled along the sidewalk. I needed to go somewhere, anywhere but home.

I smelled roasted coffee and freshly baked pastries as I dialed the phone outside of Desert Stone Bakery. My stomach grumbled with either hunger or sickness. Perhaps both.

The phone rang repeatedly until I was sure an answering machine would pick up. Instead, it was a live voice.

“Daddy, it’s me.”

“My God, Noelle! Where the hell are you? We’ve been worried.”

He probed me for details and told me that my mother called the police, thinking I was a missing person.

I avoided any discussion of her. I wanted to get to the point of my call. “Do you think I could stay with you for awhile?”

“Oh,” he reflected, his tone spiraling downward.

As I started to lay out my reasons, make my case, I heard a voice in the background. “Who is it, Jack?” A woman. Not my mother. There was a period of silence. He probably stifled her, hoping I didn’t hear.

I slammed the receiver down. Passersby stared at me as I still wore the Homecoming dress. I looked suspiciously like a hooker who had just completed her night’s work. The last thing I needed was to draw more attention to myself with outlandish behavior. Calming myself down, I rummaged through my purse for enough money to buy a candy bar and a pack of Camels. As I scrounged for change, I thought it would have been better if I did sell my body last night. At least that way I would have had enough cash to buy breakfast.

After slapping down a counter full of change, I headed out the door with my cigarettes and Kit
Kat bar. I couldn’t allow myself to rely on other people forever. It was time to go home.

The moment I set foot in the house, my mother lunged from her chair and threw her arms around me. Almost as instantly as she hugged me, she withdrew her embrace. Holding me at arm’s length, she scrutinized me from head to toe.

“Where have you been?”

When I refused to answer, she shook me. As though rattling me would make me confess. All it did was cause a nauseous feeling to return to the base of my stomach. I had already vomited once at the bus stop.

She stopped shaking me and assessed my appearance again. “My God! You look like a prostitute.”

She removed her hands from me and pressed her fingers to her temples. She rubbed them as though searching for hidden buttons that, if pushed correctly, would make this all go away. There was detestation in her tone as she voiced her concern.

“I know you’ve been spending your evenings with that boy,
Chad
. So when he called looking for you last night, I flew into a panic. He said you disappeared from the dance without a trace. I called everywhere. Even your aunt. No one heard from you. Where did you go, Noelle?”

My capacity to think came to a halt when she spoke
Chad
’s name. He wondered where I went? He was actually concerned about me? I didn’t want to believe it. I saw him with Trina. They danced together, kissed one another, completely oblivious to me.

“
Chad
called? What did he say?”

“He was worried about you, too. Just like I was. Now where were you?”   

“I … I was…” I stuttered, unable to force out a lie or an explanation. It was lodged in my throat. All I thought about was
Chad
. I wanted to believe the whole thing was a dream. Maybe I had seen something that wasn’t there. Maybe I overreached. But the one thing I did know was that I betrayed him. There was no mystery there.

“I feel sick.” I darted past my mother into the bathroom. I lifted the toilet seat and hovered over it. The blood drained from my face, leaving me ghost white and chilled, as I tried not to vomit. What had I done?

I slept the rest of the weekend to overcome my hangover, and mainly my guilt. The phone rang.
Chad
must have called at least once. A part of me wondered if Jake phoned, too.

When Monday arrived, and it was time to go back to school, I was consumed with dread.

“Noelle, what happened to you?”
Chad
was panicked, a dust devil rushing to my locker. Instead of letting me answer, he rattled on. “God, I was so worried about you. I called your house yesterday, but your mom wouldn’t tell me anything. Where’d you go?”

He grabbed hold of me, and culpability swept over me in a tidal wave. Genuine concern laid claim to his expression. I tried to read his eyes and what lay behind them. Was there a shade of deception? A flicker of guilt?

“I’m surprised you even noticed.” I collected my books and closed my locker door. I threw down the gauntlet. If he picked it up, the jousting would begin.

“Of course I noticed. Why wouldn’t I?” He picked up that gauntlet and engaged himself in combat. “You were my date. Shit! You’re my girlfriend!”

I stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned on him. “Is that what we are to each other? Girlfriend and boyfriend?”

“What’s going on?” He implored me with a look.

I charged at him, attacked him even though he appeared fragile and vulnerable. I ignored the love in his eyes. “Trina. That’s what’s going on.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The dance. I saw the two of you together, dancing close. Kissing. Don’t deny it. There’s still something going on between you. I’m not blind.”

“There’s not.” He deflated like he knew he’d been caught. “It was a mistake—”

I lopped off his explanation with the sharpness of my words. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Please, Noelle,” he pleaded. “It’s not what you think.”

His fingers touched the tips of my own, but I pulled away. “Then what is it?”

“She came onto me…”

I rolled my eyes.

“Please don’t do that,” he said. “I tried to explain to her that…”

“That what?” I felt my jaw clench.

“That I love you, but she kept pushing. I thought asking her to dance would…”

“Would what?” I pressed. “Would send a clear message to leave you alone? That you’re mine?”

“I know how it looks.”
Chad
moved to touch me again, but restrained himself.

“Yeah. Bad.”

I stormed away, pushing through crowds in the hallway. I wanted to get as far from
Chad
as possible. I didn’t want to be confronted with the truth that maybe he was innocent after all. I was the guilty one. I was the betrayer.

Since the fall-out with
Chad
, I had no choice but to go home. Without a car or a ride of any kind, I resorted to taking the city bus. I found consolation in cigarettes while I waited.

When I entered the house, my mother and Father Timothy sat patiently in the living room, then rose when they saw me.

“Noelle, may I have a moment of your time?”

My mother never spoke graciously. She and Father Timothy each held on to one end of a secret, and I knew I stood at the heart of it.

I stepped to the outskirts of the room, cautious enough not to roam into any landmines they set for me.

“Father Timothy would like to speak to you about your recent
behavior
.”

I said nothing. I only waited for them to continue.

“Why don’t you have a seat, Noelle?” Father Timothy offered. He knew I was privy to his secret habit and he to mine.

“I’m comfortable right here.”

Father Timothy breathed deeply, knowing his visit would be a test of his patience and faith. I figured he longed for one of those cigarettes.

“Your mother tells me you’ve been
demonstrating defiant behavior
lately. She’s concerned about you and would like to get to the bottom of things.”

I glared at her as though she was the one who recited the speech, not Father Timothy. “Did my mother tell you the reason I’ve been
demonstrating defiant behavior
?” My sarcastic tone was marked for my mother; Timothy just happened to be an innocent bystander.

He cleared his throat. “She mentioned a few things.”

“Did she mention that my father left because she was too difficult to live with?” I continued to direct my statements toward her. “Did she tell you that my sister got pregnant, had an abortion, and ran away to
Chicago
with a married man?”

My mother’s eyes widened at the news about Becca. She tried to discern if I was lying just to hurt her.

“Did she tell you that she won’t forgive her sister for something she did fifteen years ago because it goes against her beliefs? And did she happen to mention that the reason I am the way I am is because she is a total bitch?”

My mother gaped at me.

“Wait a second,” said Father Timothy.

But I didn’t hang around to listen to his hypocritical lecture. Instead, I reeled around and headed out the door that I entered moments before. She infuriated me. She had the nerve to seek counseling for me when she was the one who so desperately needed it. No wonder my father moved on to another woman. There was no hope in my mother ever seeing that she was the source of all of our problems, and he knew it.

My palms sweated and my legs shook as I walked up the driveway. The Honda was there, so I knew he was home. I felt less secure without the effects of the alcohol and marijuana.

I pressed the doorbell and waited. My heart beat an uneven jazz rhythm as I waited on the front patio. I distracted myself with the sunburned fern that stooped over in its pot. I needed to know if what happened meant anything to him. Especially since I had jeopardized so much over it. Had it been worth it?

The door opened, and Jake stood in front of me. He left the screen door closed. He raised his eyebrows in a question mark. I immediately realized I made a mistake by going to his house.

“Hey Noelle. What’s up?” He finally asked.

I heard the laughter of girls in the background and knew I interrupted something. He waited for me to explain my uninvited appearance. I fought back the hurt that erupted inside of me. What happened between us was just an average Saturday night to him. I was another notch on his bedpost, a number to add to his conquests, an easy girl. To me, the night meant something because it had to, because I wasn’t one of those girls—the kind who sleeps around.

“I just wanted to ask you if I left an earring behind.”

I choked on my tears and hoped he didn’t hear the sob in my throat that begged to come out.

“It was a black spangled loop,” I continued, grappling to hang on to the dying conversation.

“Haven’t found it.”

The screen door continued to separate us.

“All right. Thanks.”

I turned around, and tears immediately poured from my eyes. I stumbled down the driveway, waiting to get out of Jake’s range of hearing before I overtly sobbed. Giving myself to him was a huge mistake, one I feared I could never repair. If what I thought was true of
Chad
and Trina actually wasn’t, I made an unforgiveable mistake.

I slumped in the stiff-backed chair of Ms. Sherwood’s office, studying the pictures on the bleach-white walls. Anne Geddes’ disturbing sunflower and butterfly babies hung in cheap metal frames. The leaves of the pothos plant snaked down the wall from the windowsill where it resided. Some of the vines were jaundiced from lack of water. I plucked them off in my mind, a diversion to avoid the matter at hand.