Wicked Sense Page 16
“Right…” she says, doubting me. “Let me ask you something,” she adds with a hesitant tone. “Do they make fun of Priscilla?”
Uh-oh. We’re entering confidential territory. This is supposed to be just between us guys. I don’t want to go there, but I don’t want to lie to her either. It’s not cool that she’s asking, though. “Of course,” I finally reply.
“Why?”
“Come on, Skye…”
“No, I want to know.”
I shrug. “It’s not a mean thing. At least they don’t think it’s mean.” She looks at me, and I explain, “They make fun of her, all right?” My tone is annoyed. “It became a competition. They like to be creative and top themselves. I mean, we do. We all do it, okay?”
“What do you say?”
“I’d rather not go there.”
“But I don’t understand… Boulder even has a crush on her.”
I shrug. “Don’t read too much into it. It’s just guys being guys. Yeah, it’s not cool, but that’s how it is. We have a lot of free time. Why are you asking this?” I use an accusatory tone.
Skye looks away. “She doesn’t have friends. I mean, at all.”
“She has many male friends, believe me,” I say, still feeling guilty about betraying my peeps’ confidence and confessing to my own shortcomings.
“Don’t be insensitive, Drake. All the girls look down on her; they think she’s a slut.”
I want to say ‘There’s a reason for that’ but keep my mouth shut. Am I bitter today or what?
She continues, “And the boys too. I guess that’s why she came to the new girl in school.” Skye points to herself.
I had never thought of that. It must be hard for Priscilla. But she must have known she’d get this reputation when she started serial-dating all the guys.
Worst of all, she is a nice girl. I remember my hangover morning after the Jane debacle and how Priscilla, even mad at me, was nice and offered me good advice.
Now I’m feeling doubly guilty. For Priscilla, and for betraying the guys.
I don’t like it that Skye pointed that out. I already have trouble dealing with my things; no need for her to make me feel bad for something like that.
“You don’t respect her.”
“Come on, Skye…”
“No, really. Would it be okay if you made fun of me behind my back? Actually… do you?”
I don’t answer. I just look away, disgusted. We are at the same place where we had our first day together, but the mood couldn’t be more different.
Skye and I don’t speak for a long time.
***
That argument ruins our afternoon. We don’t talk about it, but I don’t feel like hanging out anymore, and I sense she doesn’t either. I drop her off at her house and go see the guys.
Sean is at Boulder’s. I think he lives there.
Boulder is rummaging through his garage. He comes up with a couple of snowboards.
“What do you say, D-Man? Website says it snowed in Stevens overnight.”
“I don’t know,” I say.
Boulder stops for a moment. “Come on, I’m paying for your lift, how about that?”
No offense meant, and none taken. I shrug. “All right, then.”
Sean sticks his head out from some boxes. “You’ve got a bad case of the downers, Drake. What’s up? Your wife left you hanging?”
“Kinda,” I say. I really don’t want to talk about it. “Isn’t it a little too late to go to the mountains?”
“I just woke up,” Boulder replies, his back turned to me while he looks for his boots. “We have to stop by a McD’s on our way.” He fishes bright yellow boots out of a box, turns, and points beyond me. “Is your ride all-wheel drive?”
***
We make stops at a fast food joint and a 7-Eleven. I’m the designated driver while Boulder takes care of a six pack. Even though he’s exposing me to an open container citation, I’m glad to pay back my lift ticket. Sean is just having a soda.
We didn’t need a ski rack. The Volvo is a long wagon, and we just put the snowboards in the back. Sean and Boulder didn’t even make fun of the car.
Daringly, I double-check that Boulder doesn’t remember his potion-induced confessions. “Hey, big man, do you remember what you told me the other day about Priscilla?”
He squints. “When?”
“Yesterday? At the parking lot? Ring any bells?”
“No…”
Sean, who is in the backseat, leans on my seat, pressing me forward. “Speaking of The Predator,” he says, “I got a new one for the twins: Priscilla can ride the three-person carpool by herself.”
“Ouch!” Boulder says, but he high-fives Sean nonetheless. “I had one, but it was only a variation of ‘They have their own zip code.’… Not worth it.”
“Do one, D-Man!” Sean slaps my head.
“Hey, driver here!” I yell.
“Come on, Drake,” Boulder shoves me lightly, ignoring my protest. When he sees I’m not following for it, he sing-songs, “Her boobs arrive on time, but Priscilla is always a couple of minutes late…”
In spite of myself, I chuckle. I’m so going to hell. I was just a victim of peer pressure, I justify myself.
“He has a soul!” Sean roars. He takes a big gulp of soda and belches.
“He’s got a sense of humor,” Boulder corrects. “Come on, Drake. We won’t tell on you.”
I wrestle with my conscience. But it’s not that hard of a decision. I just don’t feel like it. “I can’t think of anything,” I say.
Boulder frowns. “Damn, Drake. You did one the other day. A geek one. What was it?”
“I know. ‘Her center of gravity is two feet in front of her belly button.’” Sean laughs out loud, slapping my seat.
I was very proud of that one. Today, it doesn’t sound so funny. “Come on. Priscilla is cool.”
“Of course, she is! What does that have to do with it?” Boulder asks, puzzled.
I don’t answer.
Boulder shakes his head. “D-Man, I’m all for you and the new girl. But don’t forget your friends. And don’t forget who you are.”
Chapter 42: Skye
I just realized that I almost compromised Mum’s career. I dodged at least underage drinking, trespassing, and public indecency charges last night, and I might even have done other illegal things I’m not aware of… yet.
I owe Priscilla.
After Drake leaves me at my house, our mood ruined, I feel alone. Aunt Gemma is somewhere bird watching, and the house feels empty.
This itch compels me to call Priscilla. I wonder if she has more adventures for me. She takes her time to answer.
“Hey,” I say. “Are you awake?”
“I am now.” I hear a long yawn on the other side of the line. “What’s up?”
“Thanks for taking my picture. Drake loved it.”
She chuckles. “Guess he didn’t know the girl he is dating.”
“Do you have plans for today? Drake kind of ditched me.”
“Really?” She sounds fully awake now. I guess she’s thinking the same as me: not a good sign when you show your boyfriend your naked picture and he leaves you alone. But she reacts fast. “I was thinking spa.”
“Spa?”
“We’ve got to recover from last night’s hard work,” she argues.
Once again, when I play my objections in my mind, they sound silly. “What time?” I ask.
***
It’s a salon/spa. The salon staff and clients are the nosiest bunch of people I’ve ever met. Surely, they do pay back—and then some—in the form of over-sharing. The woman to my right, for example, a soon-to-be Master in Chemistry from WSU, just told me she doesn’t want kids and imposed only one condition to her fiancée: that he gets a vasectomy before they marry.
I look around and realize I’m the only one cringing. It gets worse. The woman giving her a pedicure comments nonchalantly, “I hope it doesn’t give him an excuse to cheat.”
The kid-hater doesn’t even blink. “I thought of that. I told him if he ever cheats on me, I’ll give him a more permanent solution,” she says while making a cutting motion with her hand. They all laugh.
I want to stuff my head inside the paraffin bowl. By my other side, Priscilla shows an unconcerned smile.
This is an experience.
Later, Priscilla and I lie on massage tables side-by-side, belly-down. A girl a little older than me is laying warm rocks on my back, while a short middle-aged woman massages Priscilla. The two women are silent, and I guess that’s the most privacy we’re going to get in this madhouse. The spa side is much less crowded, and much quieter, than the salon side.
I ask Priscilla something I’ve been meaning to mention since last night. “So, have you hooked up with Boulder?” I know the answer, but I try to keep Boulder’s secret… secret.
She turns her head to face me. “I did,” she says, a little loud. Then she mouths, “OMG, he’s huge.”
I raise my eyebrows, feigning surprise. “And?”
“It was fun,” she says. She tries to shrug, but the masseuse’s hands are stronger than Priscilla’s back muscles. “Ouch!”
“That’s called a deep-tissue massage,” the diminutive woman says, unapologetically.
“Do you like him?” I ask.
“Sure, what’s not to like?” Priscilla grins.
“Have you thought of… you know… going steady?”
“With Boulder?” she asks, as if the thought had never occurred to her. “He isn’t the boyfriend type. He’s always looking for the next girl.”
That’s not what he told me, and I know he was telling the truth. “Really? What if he… changed? What if he wanted to be with you?” I realize it’s not fair to Priscilla, because I know she’s lying.
She eyes me. “What is this all about?”
It’s my turn to shrug, upsetting the rocks on my back. “I don’t know. Girl talk. I mean, you can have any guy you want, so why don’t you just pick one?”
Priscilla doesn’t answer at first. I’m glad I chose this moment: she’s actually pinned down and cannot run away. Finally, she says, “If I can have any guy I want, I’d like to have every guy I want.”
“What do you mean?”
She gives me an exasperated look. “I’m only seventeen, Skye. I’m not looking to settle down just yet.” She probably misunderstands my shocked expression, because she adds, “I mean, I’m not saying you’re wrong or anything, but it’s just not me, you know?”
I keep my mouth shut, hoping I didn’t say anything inappropriate.
Priscilla goes on, unprompted, “I see my parents. They’re like these empty shells. They go to work, all right, but they set some time for fun too, right? They have friends, go on vacations all the time, Dad goes golfing in Scotland, Mom goes to charity events. It’s all scheduled fun. Nothing spontaneous. And their passion—it’s gone too. I saw their pictures from college; I heard their stories. They were more complete people back then. Do you understand?”
I give a half-nod, because I half-understand. But she wants me to understand it fully.
“They were in love; they did all kind of crazy things. Now they go through life as if it’s a to do list: gym three times a week, sex on Tuesdays, friends over on Fridays. I see them. They’re not enjoying themselves. While they’re throwing a dinner party, they’re not in the moment; they’re already planning the next fun thing they will most certainly not enjoy either.”
She turns her head and looks away from me. She seems sad and mad at the same time. After a while, she turns back and says in a low, serious tone I’ve never heard her use before. “I’m not a spoiled girl…” Her voice is fragile, all pretense of privacy abandoned long ago. “I’m not doing this for attention. I just want to enjoy life. Because if you don’t, what’s the point?”
I raise my eyes and see the pocket-sized sadistic masseuse, beyond Priscilla’s line of sight, nodding along.
Chapter 43: Drake
Sunday morning I still don’t want to call Skye. I just drop by Boulder’s, back to my old life for a while.
Sean and Boulder are playing an intense one-on-one basketball game.
“Where we at?” Sean asks Boulder.
“Nineteen-six. I know you know the score.” Boulder is not amused.
Sean cackles and says. “Just checking. Join us, D-Man.”
“I don’t play. You know that.”
“Maybe when you grow some chest hair,” Boulder teases.
Sean is faster, a far better player, but Boulder is Shaq, complete with hard fouls and swagger.
“I’ve got ball skills, big man,” Sean taunts, dribbling the ball between his legs.
Sean proceeds to school Boulder, and Boulder makes things rough. A missed block becomes a hard foul. A drive to the basket has Boulder running over Sean.
But it’s not a problem to Sean: he goes down laughing every time. He seems to be on a Zoloft diet. It makes Boulder madder.
When Sean charges the lane, Boulder body slams him. Sean goes careening over a hedge. Boulder sighs deeply and helps Sean up.
Sean is smiling. “Ready for another?”
Boulder shakes his head and laughs. “Nah. Hydration time.”
We go inside the garage, and Boulder opens the old fridge. “Gatorade for me,” I say.
Boulder gets a Red Bull and hands me a Gatorade. Sean’s choice is Mountain Dew. At least they’re not drinking beer.
“So… Drake finally got him some girl. Well done,” Sean says, raising his can. Boulder and I join him in the toast.
“That’s my man!” Sean says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “It’s fourth-and-one, Drake.”
“Yeah, go for it,” Boulder says.
Oh, yeah, the fourth-and-one pledge. We promised one another that we’d always be bold. If faced with a safe decision or a riskier decision with better payoff, always go for it. Never punt on a fourth-and-one situation.
Boulder takes a swig and presses his cold soda can to his forehead. “When is the big night?” he asks.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it.
“I hadn’t thought about it,” I say.
“Right…” Sean snickers.
I feign indignation. “Why do you give me so much grief? Get off my case! You two don’t have girlfriends. Actually, you hang out all the time. People talk, you know…”
“Not cool, Drake,” Boulder warns me.
I can’t let it go. “Yeah, I keep hearing you go to the gym to spot,” I make the air quotes. “Well, my point is, I have a girlfriend, and you guys don’t.”
Sean nods. “Yeah, but it’s a conscious decision. It’s just because one-nighters are actually much less drama than a relationship.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “It’s impossible to win a discussion with you guys.”
“And yet, you still try,” Sean says.
***
Soon, it’s 9:30 p.m., it’s dark, cold, and Boulder and I are standing in front of a tattoo studio that just closed its doors. In our faces.
Boulder talks to the closed door. “Come on, man, ink me. The other shop did it, look!” He shows his Gears of War tat. To a closed door.
“Kid, I already told you. Go away.” That’s the voice of the woman who just kicked us out.
“Ink me!” Boulder yells.
“You’re drunk,” a man’s voice says from inside the shop. “Don’t make me call the cops. That would be very uncool, man.”
“Ink meeeeee!”
We’re in a loop. “Do NOT ink him!” I yell.
Boulder looks at me, his eyes glazed. “Hey, back me up here.”
“I am! Just not in an obvious way.”
Boulder pokes me in the chest. “I need this tat, and I need it tonight.”
“Believe me, Boulder, you don’t need a naked Priscilla permanently on your back,” I say, before realizing that probably came out wrong. “Where did you get this sketch anyway?”
It’s getting late, and this part of Shoreline is somewhat seedy. Some people, a few of them drunker than Boulder, are already coming in our direction.
It’s bad enough babysitting a drunk guy who weighs way more more than I do, but having to negotiate drunken conversations with strangers is really annoying. I’m tired, and I stopped having fun hours ago.
I try to lift him by the arm. “Dude, I’m taking you home.”
He swats me away. “I can drive back! I did it before.”
“Yeah, and you parked in your neighbor’s garage.”
“So?” He cocks his head.
“Without opening the garage door?” That’s my closing argument.
Boulder shrugs. “Those houses all look alike.”
“Just promise me you’ll never, ever drive after a beer, you stupid ogre. Give me a call. I’ll get you. Just don’t drive.”
Boulder’s eyes are glazed, but he nods solemnly. “Okay, mommy.”
I should be mad at him. I want to. But it’s nice for a change to have his back. In my mind, I imagine Boulder and I are best friends.
Why am I thinking this now? Best friend is just a label, Drake. Just another label.
I drag him to my car and drive him home.
***
When I turn the corner on my street, a sight freezes the blood in my veins.
Jane is right in front of my house, sitting sideways on her red bike. She smiles—she actually smiles—at me.
Rage is pouring from me. I walk up to her. She straightens up and faces me. When I come closer, she raises her hands, not in a gesture of defiance, but as an offering of peace. Yeah, right.
“Listen, Jane—”
“I need to talk to you,” she says, interrupting me. The urgency in her voice gives me pause, but I come to my senses in a second.
“You psycho bitch!” I never use these words, but if someone deserves them, it’s her. I keep my hands alongside my body to suppress my urge to punch her.
“Can we forget that for just a moment? We need to talk.” Her voice is firm. My anger means nothing to her.
I don’t want to listen. “Are you insane? I have nothing to talk with you. You tried to kill Skye!”