The Bad Boy Next Door: Lance & Chastity (16 page)

Now she’s being all polite and nicey-nice? What a hypocrite. Facing Lance, I grimace for his benefit, unwilling to obey Mom’s orders. I’m half tempted to flip her off and stay outside with Lance. But I’m too tired. “Sorry about all this,” I mutter.

“It’s cool. I’ll catch you later.” Something in his cold tone tells me this most certainly is not cool, and he might not bother ever catching me again.

“Good night,” I whisper, distraught.

Lance is already trudging toward his front door. If he heard me, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

Chapter 11

CHASTITY

“We’re late for church,” Mom grumbles, startling me when she shakes me awake the next morning.

“I told you we should’ve skipped church!” I groan, my eyes still closed. I flop over in bed, giving her my back. Either someone stuck my head in a vise or I have a splitting headache.

“Get up and get ready to go. We’re not
skipping church
,” she mimics disdainfully. “And get a move on. You have ten minutes.”

I shower and dress with my eyes closed. I’m not even sure what I’m wearing as I stumble to the car.

Mom drives. Halfway to church, she says, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to spend any more time with Lance.”

Her words stab me awake. I cringe, my eyes half open. “I was asleep, Mom. Can we talk about this later?”

“No. We talk about this now.” Her voice has that… tone.

I’m sick of that tone. I heard enough of it last night. I snap, “No, we fucking don’t, Mom. I’m not having a fight right before church.” I can’t believe I just said fuck to my mom. I’ve never even said it out loud before. I mean, before last night.

The car lurches and she pulls over in a rush. A car behind us blares its horn. Mom parks in the first available space in front of an auto mechanic place on Vanowen Street. Cars whiz by.

“What did you just say?” She digs her fingernails into my wrist, breaking the skin.

“Ow!” I holler. “Let go!”

She shakes my arm, “You do not talk to me like that and you do not tell me what to do. Ever.” Her eyes are knives.

I twist my arm free and rub the red half moons marking my wrist. I’m furious. “Do you really want to have a fight right before church? Because I will
so
go there.”

“No you will
not.
I am your mother and you will treat me with respect.”

I look out the side window, my face hot with rage. “Then treat me with some respect.” I close my eyes, wishing she would go away.

Vicious claws yank my hair. “I’m tired of your defiance, Chastity!! If you want to live in
my
house, you have to follow
my
rules!!” She’s pulling on my head.

“Let go of my hair, you bitch! I don’t want to live in your house!” The words are out before I can stop them.

She flings her fistful of my hair in my face. “Then maybe you’d like to go live somewhere else!”

“Sounds like a great idea,” I snarl.

“Fine. Then I’ll expect you to start packing the minute we get home from church.” She thinks she’s calling my bluff.

“Why wait?” I kick the car door open and step onto the curb. “Have fun at church. Crazy bitch!”

“Chastity! You get back in this car!”

I slam the door in her face and start walking home. If she comes after me, so help me…

I listen closely, waiting for her to run up behind me.

The engine of Mom’s car revs and fades into the distance.

I turn around and watch her drive off.

My stomach knots.

Whir.

What did I just get myself into?

I wasn’t planning on moving out
this
soon.

Maybe I should call Dad. He would let me live with him. But that means moving to Illinois. Not unless I can take Charity with me. And Lance. Maybe I can crash at Lark’s apartment. I’m sure her mom would understand. She knows how weird my mom is.

I look up and down Vanowen. Cars go by in both directions.

Unfortunately, none of them are going to stop and give me a ride and I can’t call anybody because Mom insists I leave my phone at home when we go to church. Out of habit, I don’t have it. But I need to get back to the house so I can pack.

Hmmm.

It’s a long walk home.

Maybe I should wait for a bus.

I just don’t know which bus to take.

Whatever.

I can walk. It’s only a couple of miles.

My empty stomach burbles as I walk.

Whir.

I should’ve eaten something before we left. Or at least drunk some water. I’m dehydrated already and it’s getting hot. Oddly, I’m getting clammy and chilled. No use crying about it.

I march toward home.

Mom is insane.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

I knock on Lance’s front door. I didn’t bother to go home first. When no one answers, I knock again. Footsteps thud behind the door. My heart fills with hope and starts to flutter. All I want right now is Lance. Now I’m the one who needs to talk to
him
. I probably woke him. Hopefully he won’t tell me to leave.

The front door opens.

“Yeah?” Mr. McKnight stands there in sagging whitey-not-so-tightey underwear and nothing else. His hair stands straight up and he looks confused. Despite his dishevelment, his resemblance to Lance is uncanny.

“Uhhh… Is Lance here?”

“I don’t know. Lemme check.” He turns to walk away then turns back to me. “Charity, right?”

“No. I’m Chastity.”

“That’s right.” Only he doesn’t sound too sure of himself.

Did he forget my name already? He spent two whole days with us. A normal person would remember it. And what about Charity? Did he forget last night too? I don’t see how. Last night, he was worried about her. Maybe he forgot because he was so drunk. I hear that can happen.

“Be right back.” He leaves the door standing open.

I grimace when I see the hole in the butt of his underwear. I turn away until he’s gone. I’m tempted to walk inside, but succumbing to temptation has gotten me in enough trouble already. I wait.

A minute later, he returns, hopping into view while trying to jam his leg into a rumpled pair of jeans. He starts to topple, on the verge of smashing face-first into the tiled floor.

“Careful!” I blurt, hands out.

He catches his balance by hopping several times, then hikes his jeans up, buttoning them without bothering to zip them. “You wanna come in?”

Not really. “Is Lance here?” Did he forget I asked?

“I don’t think so.”

The house isn’t that big. I chuckle, “Uhhhhh, do you know where he went?”

“Hold on a sec.” He walks away and returns a minute later holding a bottle of green mouthwash at his side. The bottle has no cap on it.

I wait for him to say something about Lance.

He stares at me sleepily. Believe it or not, he looks more tired than I feel. “What did you want again?”

“Lance? Do you know where he went?”

He looks up thoughtfully. “Not really.” He lifts the mouthwash to his mouth and gulps some. He swirls it around for awhile then stares at me, his cheeks puffed out, his lips wet.

“Do you need to go spit that out?”

He closes his eyes and swallows it. “I’m fine.”

I bite my lower lip, cringing. “I don’t think you’re supposed to swallow mouthwash.”

“I didn’t.” he says, his voice hoarse.

“I just—” my voice fades to a whisper, “…saw you.” Is he crazy?

“Lance isn’t here.”

“I know. You, um, said that already.”

“Yeah.”

This is really weird. “I should go. If you see Lance, can you tell him I stopped by?”

“Yeah.” He just stands there looking at me.

“Oooookaaaaay. Bye.” I back up carefully toward the driveway.

Mr. McKnight never takes his eyes off me. It’s only weird because it’s like I’m not even there. He looks right through me, not even seeing me.

It’s the creepiest thing ever.

And somehow the saddest.

I’ve never known an alcoholic before, but I think one moved in next door.

Does that mean Lance is an alcoholic too?

The thought scares me.

Maybe Mom was right. Maybe I don’t want anything to do with the McKnights.

No, that can’t be right.

Lance isn’t a drunk.

I mean, as far as I know.

Is he as clever as his dad? Does he just hide it better?

Oh, gosh. I have no idea.

But I can’t escape the feeling that I just fell into something way over my head.

++++8++++

CHASTITY

“Where’s Mom?” Charity asks, sitting across from me at the kitchen table eating a PB&J sandwich she made for herself. “She’s really late.”

I’m too nervous to eat. “Probably still at church. Eat your sandwich. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

The service ended two hours ago. Mom probably went to the luncheon afterward. We often go. There’s really no reason to worry. But today is different because I’m dreading the conversation we’re going to have when she gets home. If Lance had been home, I would’ve taken him up on that motorcycle ride he offered me the other day and insisted we make it an all day road trip. The last thing I want to do is face off with Mom again.

A text from Lance comes in on my phone.

Can I borrow your mom’s crossbow? I need to use it to shoot somebody.

Me:
Who?

I’m hoping he says my mom. Not really.

Him:
Long story. What r you doing later?

Me:
I’m busy.

Him:
Right. Me 2.

Me:
No, I’m serious. I have to work today.

Him:
On a Sunday? What kind of place makes you work Sunday?

I hesitate for a second. I secretly think my job is as lame as my nickname, but I would never tell anybody because I’m grateful to have it. Oh well, Lance will probably find out eventually.

Me:
At an ice cream parlor.

Him:
I’m totally coming by for a sundae, since it’s Sunday. Can you hook me up?

Me:
What, like a discount?

Him:
No, like free?

My bosses Mr. and Mrs. Molton own the shop and they aren’t exactly rich so they discourage freebies. I type out:
Don’t you have any money?
But I don’t send it. Remembering the McKnight’s lack of furniture and Mr. McKnight’s weirdness makes me wonder if maybe they’re really broke and Lance can’t actually afford a five dollar ice cream. Maybe he can’t. So I text:
Sorry. We don’t do giveaways. But I think I can get you a coupon.

Him:
No worries.

After five minutes, he hasn’t responded. Did I offend him? Maybe he really is broke? I’m about to bang out a quick explanation when my phone chimes.

Him:
What time you work?

Me:
4-10pm. We close at 9.

Him:
What’s it called?

Me:
Marble Slab Creamery. There’s only one. You can Google it.

Him:
Found it. I’ll swing by before you close.

My eyes light with joy. I was starting to worry Lance might never want to see me again after all the drama last night.

Me:
Ok. C u later.

I set my phone down, ecstatic.

Mom’s Toyota pulls into the driveway a second later, spoiling my mood.

“Mom’s home,” Charity says casually. I didn’t tell her what happened in the car.

“Yeah,” I sigh. I consider sneaking out the back door and hopping the fence and going anyplace but here. Keys jingle in the front door. My stomach knots. The front door opens. My chest locks, making it hard to breathe. Footsteps in the entryway. I swallow hard, my throat clicking. When is she going to explode? The dread is killing me.

Mom walks into the kitchen holding grocery bags, which she sets on the counter. “Hello, Charity. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Charity says.

“That’s wonderful. Do you feel rested?”

“I guess.”

“How late did you sleep?”

It’s totally weird that Mom is pretending I’m not here. Usually she just starts screaming at me.

“I don’t know,” Charity says. “Ten?”

“That’s great. Have you had any symptoms the doctor told us to watch for?”

“No. Why aren’t you talking to Chastity?”

I grin to myself. I love my sister.

“Who?”

Charity rolls her eyes. “Chastity. She’s right in front of you.”

“Oh!” Mom feigns surprise. “You’re still here. I thought you had moved out.”

My face sours. “Nope. Still here. How was church?”

Mom hikes her eyebrows. “Well, I don’t know, Chastity. But if you’d gone, you would know, wouldn’t you?”

It’s nearly impossible not to roll my eyes.

Mom glares at me as she walks to the refrigerator and starts transferring groceries inside.

I get up to help.

“I’ve got it,” she barks. “Since you won’t be living here, I’ll have to do it from now on, won’t I?”

“I’ll help,” Charity sighs as she gets up from the table.

Again, love my sister.

Mom purses her lips and watches Charity unload the groceries.

Charity understands what Mom is doing and she’s trying to defuse.

Mom plants her fists on her hips and stares at me. “I had a lot of time to think about our conversation while at church today.”

I want to say,
Shouldn’t you have been praying?

“And it occurred to me, now that you’re an adult, it’s time you started living like one. You can either move out today or you can start paying rent. I was thinking four hundred a month. I did some checking on Craigslist this morning before church. That’s quite a deal for a room in this part of the Valley. I won’t even charge you for utilities.”

Whir.

My stomach sours. I still haven’t eaten yet but now I have no appetite.

I hate the fact Mom is one step ahead of me. After getting home and cooling off, I called Lark. She didn’t answer, so I called her mom, who said Lark is at the beach all day. So I looked up apartment rentals online. Mom is right. I can barely afford the cost of living on my own with what I make at Marble Slab.

“Okay,” I sigh. “I’ll move out.”

Mom is startled. She wasn’t expecting that.

Neither was I.