Dare Me (24 page)

I nod and feel my own face flush. Ricky puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t bail on us, Ben. We need you. And you need us.”

He’s right, about so much I’ve been too afraid to admit to myself. “That’s the truth.” I pat his hand, and turn toward the condo.

I feel like I’m back at square one, Law One. This
me
Ricky’s talking about is the same one Ginny asked about motivation. And I didn’t know, but maybe now I do? Or is this me, still in Law Two, perpetually moving forward, now gaining speed? Or is this a perfect example of the Third Law and all my actions coming back to haunt me?

CHAPTER 25

“D
id you hear
what happened to Jesse Holmes?”

Wide eyes, slack jaw.

“He got jumped by some gang and they stole all his money.”

Wider eyes. “No shit?”

“Did you hear what happened to Jesse Holmes?”

“Yeah, jumped by like a gang.”

“No, it was the mob. The owner didn’t pay them enough, I guess. Jesse took the hit.”

“No shit?”

“Did you hear what happened to Jesse Holmes?”

“Didn’t he like bust up a bunch of mailboxes?”

“Huh? What? No, he got the shit kicked out of him.”

“Probably screwed someone’s girlfriend.”

“No shit?”

I hear these conversations and dozens more. It’s all the school is talking about. Not once did I hear anyone say anything about us. Which is good, I guess. Somehow they’ve looked past John’s black eye and my busted nose. I told my parents I slipped on the ice. Same story I’ll use around here if anyone asks.

Ricky is at his locker but Trevor isn’t with him.

“Where’s Trevor?” I ask.

“He’s sick.” Ricky keeps his expression flat, so we understand what he really means. “You hear all the rumors?”

“Yeah, just now,” John says.

“Anything about us?”

“Nothing,” I answer.

I look down the hall and see Alexia’s tear-puffy face. And next to her, Chantel. Ricky clears his throat. I step away and go to the girls.

Alexia turns away when I approach, but Chantel is all over me. “Hey, where were you? I thought maybe you’d come over. My parents put up the tree. . . .” She stops. “What happened to your nose?”

I don’t look at her, but watch Alexia. She snaps around and gives me a cold, calculated look, taking in my face.

“Uh, well.” I act caught off-guard, but really I’m prepared. “My dad got a new job and we were out celebrating. I slipped on the sidewalk.”

Alexia’s face falls, and I feel awful because it was clear, if only for a moment, that she believed I was somehow connected.

“My poor baby.” Chantel strokes my neck, and I resist pulling away. This isn’t what we do. This isn’t who we are. But I don’t want a scene.

“Sorry about Jesse,” I say to Alexia. “Really.”

Alexia bobs her head and holds a tissue to her face. Chantel hangs on the space between us, and I forget about her and concentrate on what I really want to say and to whom. “At some point, he won’t be there for you. But I always will.”

Alexia pulls the tissue from her face and stares at me. Chantel’s mouth hangs open. “What the hell, Ben?”

I size up Chantel, think of a dozen things I could say, but don’t, because they reflect right back on me. “Alexia’s been my friend longer than she’s been yours. Relax.” I grab her hand and squeeze and then head back to the guys.

“Everything good?” Ricky asks.

“All depends how you look at it,” I say.

—

Chuck grabs me
and holds me at arm’s length. “Doc, the hell happened to your face?"

I give him the lie and say it loud enough in case Alexia’s listening.

“Shit. Don’t scare the customers,” Chuck says.

I punch in. Alexia’s behind the counter, taking calls and acting fine, like her boyfriend wasn’t beaten last night.

“Hey, I’ve got like three deliveries in your old neighborhood.” She stops. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

I don’t need her to be more of a mess, so I laugh it off. “No, it’s fine. Let me see the tickets.” I grab them from her and check the addresses. All down my street. Former. I look up and see how dark the circles are under Alexia’s eyes, and whatever cute remark I was going to say is gone. “You all right? I mean, I know you can’t be, but still.”

She turns away her eyes are filling. “Yeah. I thought he was someone different. You know? But all those rumors . . . He said he got robbed. But when I asked him why he didn’t call the cops, he started yelling at me, like it was my fault.”

My stomach folds and I fear for Alexia. Jesse’s going to be out for blood. And my connection to her may mean trouble. I rub her back because I don’t know what to say, and she lets her chin fall to her chest.

“Ben, I’m scared. I’ve been with Jesse long enough to know his moods. I’ve never seen him this dark.”

I rub in wider circles, wishing I could wash this all away, but knowing I am to blame. Alexia lets out a small sigh and turns to me.

“Ben?” Her face is wide open, eyes searching mine.

“Yeah?” I manage to say, even though I’m confused. Something about her seems as if I can help. As if she needs
my
assistance and mine alone. I remember this face.

“Hey, there’s no mistletoe in here, you lovebirds!” Chuck says, oblivious to the moment. Alexia collects herself and looks busy with the remaining slips. Chuck grabs mine out of my hand.

“Looky here. You’re headed back to your old digs, huh?”

I don’t answer. There’s no point.

“What happened to your place anyway?”

It takes me a second to regroup. “We sold it,” I manage to say and want to punch Chuck in his gut for interrupting.

“No shit? What happened to the deal? Because no one lives there. The bank owns it now.”

I wait for the joke, for whatever stupid line Chuck’s going to insert, but it doesn’t come. He just stands there, smelling like sweat and staring at me.

“How do
you
know?”

“You kidding me? This isn’t my only gig. Real estate is where it’s at. You buy, flip, resell, or these days, rent. Best damn use of your money. Fact is, if I can get a good price on your old place, I might buy it, thanks to you.”

He’s got to be joking with me. But I saw the house’s emptiness with my own eyes.

“Benny?” Alexia asks.

Chuck slaps me hard. “You’ll be fine, Doc. A little fresh air will do you good. Get on those deliveries and see if there’s one of those brochures for your old place.”

He leaves and my legs feel watery. If he’s telling the truth, I’m pissed. If that house, my home, is on the market, we should be getting it back. Dad’s working again. I’ve got some cash. It could happen in spite of what Ginny said. Maybe there is a way for me to restart? I grab my orders and charge out to the Jeep.

Like a few months before, a for sale sign sits on my lawn. I grab it, and the cold metal singes. I try to pry it from the ground, but it’s frozen in place, so I leave it be and walk up my front steps and have a seat. I love this porch. Playing out here with John, watching sunsets with Mom, waiting for Dad to come home from work. Even playing with Ginny. I look around. Not much has changed since I was a kid, but I damn sure have.

I take a deep breath, not to get calm, but to absorb the air from my home.
My
home. Where I belong. I think a moment and know exactly what I need to do.

—

Christmas songs are playing
on the radio. Mom’s humming while she wraps gifts in front of the fire. Dad’s stringing lights on the tree with Ginny. It’s like walking into some painting, except for the ugly floral print and raspberry carpet. I go to unzip my coat, but look at the tree again, and flash back to the lot.

“You okay, bud?” Dad holds a strand of lights, limply. Ginny looks up as well.

“Yeah, yeah. I, you know . . .” I almost say,
I was just at the house and it’s for sale, and wouldn’t that make an awesome Christmas gift?
But instead I offer, “Tired. That’s all. Long day.”

“I hear you. But it’s nice to have a long day again.” He goes back to hanging the lights. Ginny shoots me a concerned look. Mom sighs and pats the box she’s finished wrapping.

I hang my coat on the rack and kick off my boots. I’ll talk to Ginny later, but for now, I’ll go get warm by the fire.

I start to nod off after having moved from the hearth to the couch, where I’m staring at the fire. Dad and Ginny asked if I wanted to join in the decorating, but I offered suggestions from where I sat. Mom wrapped and I let the music pass over me while I sifted through all that we’re jammed up in.

I stand up, yawn, and stretch.

“Time for bed?” Mom looks at me over her glass of wine.

“Yeah. I’m beat.”

“Come give me a kiss before you go.” I plant one on her cheek. She seems to radiate the same warmth as the fire.

“Are you happy here?” I don’t even know why I’m asking.

She tilts her head and thinks for a minute. “It’s corny, but my mother always said, ‘Home is where your heart is.’ And so, yeah, I’m happy here.” She turns to me. “You?”

I shift and look away. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just . . .” And I almost say something about the house, but what would be the point? I’ll let her have this.

“It’s not the same,” Mom finishes for me.

I nod, grateful for her insight.

“Ben, even if we were there it wouldn’t be the same. You’re leaving at the end of the summer, and Ginny’s on her way toward finishing up her undergrad. Might as well make the change now.”

“I hear you,” I say, squeeze her shoulder, and make my way upstairs, where thankfully the fireplace is roaring.

I’m almost asleep, to the point where I’m reviewing the day and feeling the weight of it pass through me, when Ginny darts into my room.

“Shit, it’s still cold in here.”

I have to force myself to speak. “Yeah, cold.”

“Were you sleeping?” She sits on the edge of the bed.

“Almost.” I click on my bedside lamp and we both squint at the light. “What’s up?”

“You tell me. You walked through that door like someone asked you to bury a dead body.”

Ginny and her ability to read everything. I guess she’s always had this gift. “Not a body, but a house.”

“What? What the hell are you into now?”

I prop up on my elbow and squeeze my eyes. “It’s not like that.” I collect what I’m going to say before speaking. “Our house is for sale again.”

“Our old one?”

“Uh huh.”

“How do you know?”

I explain about the delivery and Chuck. I leave out the part about sitting on the front steps.

“Damn,” Ginny says and bites a nail. “That’ll sting when they find out.”

“Yeah, it will.” I imagine both their faces. Awful. “Is there any way you could look into what happened, find out what the price is and what the deal is with the bank?”

Ginny’s eyes narrow. “Why, what are you thinking?”

I sit fully upright and rest against the wall. “I was going to ask you to keep looking into Get Out There. Ricky didn’t want to hear anything about O. P. And since you’re at it, maybe check on this. Who knows? Dad’s working now.”

She nods, a slow, filtering motion. “Okay, but we’ve had this conversation before. It’s not a tangible option.”

“I know. But looking into it can’t hurt. Come on, you’re not the slightest bit interested in what’s going on?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.” She looks me over. “Huh?”

Her one word sounds like the summary of a dissertation. “What’s the
huh
for?”

She smiles, and when she does, she looks so much like Mom it’s unnerving. “Because of all this shit with the dares, I’ve been looking at you as this, I don’t know, stupid-hormonal-teenage-boy-with-his-head-up-his-ass.”

“Thanks. I guess.”

“Well, you are. But there’s more, too. Benny Bear’s still in there.” She rubs the top of my head. “Still the same, but different. Good.” She pauses. “Except
I’m
still worried. I don’t care what Ricky thinks. I’ll pull the plug on your operation myself if you do anything riskier than shocking one another. Also, your grades, they suck ass.” Ginny pulls a piece of paper out of her back pocket and hands it over.

I know what it is before opening it and do not want to look. But I do. My interim is as shitty as I expected. Still close to failing everything but English and PE. I sigh.

“I got it out of the mail today.” She shakes her head and stands. “If you’re concerned about them, maybe you’d better take care of that first, and then maybe we can figure out the house.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” My voice is heavy from sleep and embarrassment.

She goes to the door. “If I leave this open a crack, you won’t be so cold.”

“Here’s hoping.” I snap off my light and lie back down.

Ginny lingers as if she’s going to say more, but she doesn’t.

The fire crackles in the hall and I settle into my pillow, accepting that all is not in my hands, and for everyone, it’s better that way.

CHAPTER 26

I
awake Christmas morning
to a text from Chantel:
Merry Christmas. Hope to see you later ;)
. I don’t reply, but shudder against the cold. I’ve kept the door propped open, but the dying fire is no match for the draft of these windows. I stand and pull on a sweatshirt and warm-ups, find my slippers, and head downstairs.

Of course I’m the last one awake, but they haven’t unwrapped anything yet and are sitting by the fire drinking coffee.

“Merry Christmas,” I announce and they respond in unison. I fill up my own mug and join them, sitting next to Ginny on the love seat.

I sip and take in the stack of presents. Or should I say the lump. In years past, Ginny and I have had pounds of presents, piles we’d have to work to finish unwrapping, only so we could play with the ones we really wanted. This year, however, I’m lucky if there are five gifts under that tree, and nothing looks more significant than a sweater.

Mom, noticing my look, sits up and extends an arm toward the tree. “It’s not the most extravagant year we’ve had, but it sure beats some of the early ones, huh, Joe?”

Dad looks into his mug. “Yes, it does. Like ‘Gift of the Magi’ a couple times.”