Hummingbird Heart (19 page)

“Sex, you mean? Of course. Who doesn't?” She laughed.

I felt like a little kid, like there was some knowledge that everyone had except me. Just talking to people, knowing when to look at them and when to look away, figuring out when to joke and when to be serious… it was all complicated enough without bringing sex into the equation. I couldn't imagine ever being comfortable enough to do that with another person. But Toni seemed so casual about all this stuff. I looked at her and wished I knew what to ask. It sounded like she'd gone all the way with Finn, and I wondered when that had happened. I couldn't help feeling hurt that she hadn't told me.

“So, about this weekend,” Toni said. “Can I at least come over? And Finn? And maybe Jessica and Ian?”

I wondered whether to invite Jax. If I didn't, I'd be the only one who wasn't half of a couple. “I guess so. We could get some movies.”

“Cool.”

We were silent for two or three steps. I flexed my elbow and felt the cotton ball still there, taped to the inside of my arm. “I had that blood test this morning. You know, to see if I can help Casey.”

“And?”

“We won't know anything for another couple of weeks. Mom says it's a long shot.” It sounded like I was talking about a lottery ticket.

“Still, wouldn't it be great if you could? I mean, that'd be huge. Like saving a life. You'd probably end up being so close to her.” Toni sounded almost envious.

I pictured my blood filling the glass tube, the way the level of dark liquid had risen so fast. Something shifted uneasily inside me as I thought about Toni's words. Despite Mom's cautions, I had this weird conviction that I was going to be a match, but I didn't feel good about it. My reasons for wanting to help were all twisted up and wrong. I wanted to help because, despite not wanting to like Mark, I still wanted him to like me.

And—this was the really awful part—I kept having these stupid fantasies in which Mark cried and said how grateful he was, and there was an article about us in the local paper, and kids at school came up and talked to me and were all impressed, like I was some kind of hero. My face and ears burned just thinking about it. “I probably won't match,” I said quickly.

Toni shrugged, losing interest. “I liked Mark. Are you going to see him again?”

I stepped squarely in a pile of leaves at the edge of the sidewalk, expecting a dry brittle crunch. Instead, the leaves felt slick and mushy under my feet. “I don't know.”

“You always say that. ‘
I don't know
.' ”

I looked at her, startled. “Do I?”

“Always.
I don't know, I don't know
. It's like…like your mantra or something.”

“I don't—I mean, I don't mean to.”

“You should try to act more confident. It's not very attractive, the way you're so, you know, so insecure.”

“I'm not.” I felt like she'd just punched me in the stomach. “Anyway, you're the one who's acting different lately. Why are you being such a bitch?”

Toni spun toward me, eyes wide; then she looked away. “I'm…you're right. I'm sorry, Dylan.”

There was a long silence. I wondered if we were going to have another fight, or if it was already over. For the first time ever, I wondered how much longer we'd be friends. There was an awful sinking feeling in my belly at the thought. I couldn't imagine not having Toni in my life. I didn't think she had any idea how much I counted on her.

Toni nudged me. “Come on, we'd better get back.”

There was a weird eerie light, almost a greenish tinge to the gray sky. The air felt heavy with dread and anticipation. I thought about mushroom clouds and fallout and nuclear winters, and listened to the sound of our footsteps as we retraced our steps back to the school.

TW
en
TY

At dinnertime on Friday, Julia arrived to pick up Mom. Julia always drove, which gave me one less thing to worry about. It was just as well, as Mom had downed at least three glasses of wine while I did her makeup.

“Jules! What do you think?” she asked, gesturing toward herself.

Julia was standing in our front hall, dressed in stiletto-heeled boots and a body-hugging black dress. “You look fabulous,” she said.

Mom spun around. Her backless shirt showed off her tattoos, and Julia gave a low whistle. “Hot, hot, hot.”

I made a face and Karma laughed.

“Dylan, did you do her makeup? For a girl who doesn't even wear makeup herself, you sure have a knack for it. I should get you to do mine.” Julia winked at me. “When I try to do that smoky-eyed look, I end up with raccoon eyes.”

“Waterproof mascara,” I said. “You look great though.” She really did: bleached blond hair, red lipstick and serious curves. “Very Marilyn Monroe.”

“You girls behave,” Mom said, and she and Julia departed arm in arm.

“Have fun,” I said.

I felt a pang of something like jealousy as I waved goodbye. Toni and I used to be like that, before Finn showed up. Mom and Julia had both had plenty of boyfriends, but it seemed like they both understood that while the boyfriends would come and go, their friendship was forever.

I stuck a couple of veggie burgers in the microwave, pressed Start and backed away to wait. Microwave ovens made me nervous. I figured in ten years we'd find out that they caused MS or Alzheimer's or something.

“Is one of those for me?” Karma asked.

“Uh-huh.” The microwave beeped, and I extracted the steaming brown discs and dropped them onto slices of whole-wheat bread. “Dinner is served.”

Karma squirted ketchup onto hers and mine. “It's sort of quiet without Amanda here.”

“She's only been gone a few minutes,” I said. It wasn't like we weren't ever home alone. I knew what she meant though. It felt different, knowing Mom would be gone all weekend. The small apartment seemed bigger and somehow less familiar.

Karma carried our plates into the living room, and I flipped on the
TV
.

“Dylan, come on. Not the
news
.”

“Shhh.” A very thin blond woman was saying something about an oil spill in Howe Sound, north of Vancouver. The screen flashed to a picture of a mustached man, a Coast Guard representative.

“Dylan!”

“Shut up, Karma.”

“An estimated sixty tons of fuel has been spilled,” the man was saying, his voice guarded and cautious
.
“There has been some impact on an environmentally sensitive marsh.”

“This is
awful
.” I turned up the volume.

“Yeah, but us listening to it isn't going to help.” Karma grabbed for the remote.

I held it up above my head.

“We don't have any official confirmation of numbers or the type of wildlife affected…”

Karma sat down on the couch and took a bite of her veggie burger. “Can we at least check if there's anything good on?”

“Crews are working furiously to contain the spill, but high winds are driving the oil along the bird-populated waterways…”

I sighed and tossed the remote to her. “Sometimes I think we're all crazy. We're destroying the planet, and no one seems to care.”

Karma clicked through a reality show and a Mazda commercial.
Zoom zoom zoom.
“They said they were trying to clean it up. If no one cared, it wouldn't even be on the news.”

“If people really cared, these things wouldn't keep happening.” I poked my finger at the ketchup puddled on my burger. “Everything's so messed up.”

“Ha. I love this show.” Karma leaned back and took another bite.

Some stupid sitcom. I watched her chewing contentedly. “I've got some people coming over later,” I said.

“You do? Who, Toni?”

“Yeah, Toni and a couple of others.”

Karma kept her eyes on the
TV
. “Whatever.” Then she sat up and turned to look at me. “Your boyfriend? Right? I bet you invited your boyfriend.”

“A couple of people, all right? It's not really any of your business.”

“Bet you don't want Amanda to know.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Is that a threat?”

“I'm just saying.”

“Okay, fine. Yes, Jax is coming. And no, you don't need to mention that little fact to Mom.”

“You're so lucky. I wish I was sixteen.”

I sighed. I wished I was still eleven.

Karma and I did the dishes. I washed, Karma dried, and no one put away. We just piled them on top of the ever-growing stack of clean dishes on the counter. Every once in a while, if Mom was planning on cooking something and needed the counter space, she'd put the dishes in the cupboards, but most of the time, no one bothered.

Karma nodded at the line of dried-out cactuses on the window ledge above the sink. “Poor things,” she said.

“I know.” They were Mom's, but I felt guilty every time I looked at them.

“It's like Death Row,” she said. “Get it? Death Row?”

“Yeah, ha ha.” My stomach clenched. Now I was going to think about that every time I looked at those cactuses. “We should just throw them out.”

“They're Amanda's.”

“They're dead.” I picked up the cactuses, and one by one I banged them on the edge of the compost bin, so that the cactuses and soil came loose and fell on top of the scraps of vegetables and the coffee grounds. “And now they're gone.”

The doorbell rang, and without looking at Karma, I ran down the stairs to answer it.

Toni was already in the hall, kicking off her boots and hanging her dripping raincoat on a hook. “It's disgusting out,” she said. “I
walked
over. I'm soaked.”

She was wearing a lacy black top and low-rise skinny jeans that showed off her hip bones and flat stomach. A silver ring twinkled at her navel. I felt a flicker of jealousy; not at her body, exactly, but at her ease with it. There was no way I could wear something like that and feel at all comfortable.

“You look great,” I told her.

“Thanks.” She grinned and opened her backpack. “I got three movies. Whaddaya think?”

Two comedies and an action flick. “Sure. Fine.”

She followed me up the stairs. “Finn can't come; he has to work. But look what I brought instead.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a bottle of peach Schnapps.

I felt a twisting in my stomach. If I hadn't invited Jax, it could have been just me and Toni. We'd just got to the top of the stairs when the doorbell rang. “I'll get it,” I said. “Go put some music on, if you can find anything decent.”

It was Jax. He hung his leather jacket beside Toni's raincoat and pulled me toward him. “Good to see you.”

His arms circled my waist and held me close. I looked up at him and let him kiss me. His face was cold and his breath tasted like beer. I wondered if I would still like him if he had a different face. A less perfect face. If he had acne, or sticking-out ears, or a funny-looking nose. Probably not, I thought uncomfortably. I squirmed away from him. “Come on. Toni's here too.”

He followed me upstairs, his fingers threaded through the belt loops at the back of my jeans. “I didn't come here to see Toni,” he said.