Read Between the Lines (20 page)

We sit in our usual places on the floor, and Cal pulls out the stash of
Playboy
s we’ve accumulated over the years. “I don’t suppose either of you two bozos have some weed?” he asks.

As if. Any time one of us scores a joint, it’s gone within hours.

I turn on some music from the ancient boom box we got at a yard sale while Jack starts dealing out cards. When there’s nothing else to do, and there’s not enough to talk about, we play Texas Hold ’em. We keep an old Quaker Quick Oats container full of pennies that we use for the game. Jack doles out twenty-five to each of us. No one keeps the pennies at the end. They go back in the Quaker box. Someone, most likely Cal, drew a huge boob next to the Quaker guy’s face on the package so his smile makes him look like a sleazy pervert instead of some nice old guy trying to encourage kids to eat a nutritious breakfast.

My first hand is a two of hearts and a three of spades. Typical. Cal raises immediately like he always does, and Jack and I fold as usual. My backpack is next to me. I reach over and feel the paver inside. I’m sure they notice, but no one says anything.

My next hand is a five of clubs and a nine of diamonds. I fold again. Cal raises, but this time Jack calls. Jack only ever calls when he has a really good hand, so Cal and Jack check and call the rest of the hand. When they flip, Jack has a pair of queens and Cal has a six and ten of spades.

“If I win the next hand, D. gives me that brick and I get rid of it, no questions asked,” says Cal. “If I win the whole game, he tells us exactly what the hell he was going to do with it.”

“I’m in,” Jack says. “For your own good,” he adds, giving me an apologetic look.

“D.?” Cal asks. “You in?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Cal looks at Jack and shrugs. “Doesn’t look like it.” He smirks and tosses a bunch of pennies into the pot without even checking his hand.

I have a jack and a ten. “What did you just bet?” I ask.

Cal shrugs and leaves it to Jack to count.

“Eleven,” Jack says.

I slide my pennies to the middle of the plywood floor. Cal studies me for tells. I try to give him my blank face, but it’s impossible. We all know each other too well.

“D. has something good,” Cal says. He bites his bottom lip.

Jack calls and slides his pennies into the pot with mine. Then he acts as dealer and sets the first three cards down. A ten, a queen, and a nine of hearts. Cal checks. A rarity.

I throw in five more pennies. I have a pair and could get a straight. Jack folds. I smirk, even though I know in poker that’s a big no-no.

“You know I’m gonna win,” Cal says. “Just fold and save your pennies.” He tosses in five to call.

Jack flips an ace. I study the cards and think of all the scenarios in which Cal could beat me. There are a lot. I tap my fingers on the floor as I decide what to do. I only have ten pennies left. I throw in five.

Cal calls, and Jack flips over an eight of diamonds.

This time Cal smirks. I grin too. I’ve got a straight.

“Let’s see ’em, boys,” Jack says.

I flip mine first. “Nice hand.” Jack nods approvingly.

We turn to Cal. He makes a big deal out of slowly revealing his cards. First card, a king of hearts. I’m safe. Then he slowly turns the other card over. Jack of hearts.

“Dang!” Jack says. “What are the chances?”

I’m starting to wonder.

Cal makes a big show of sliding all the pennies in front of him and making little piles of ten. When he’s done, he looks up, as if he didn’t realize we were watching and waiting.

“There,” he says. “OK, D., hand it over.”

“What?”

“The brick.” He reaches for my backpack, but I pull it away.

They wait.

“Fine.” I unzip my bag and lift out the paver. It feels a lot heavier in my hand than on my back.

“So, what’s it for?” Cal asks. “Exactly.”

“You have to win the whole game to find out,” I say. “Remember?”

“You’re a little creepy, D. I have to admit, I’m getting bad vibes.” He places the paver in the center of our circle.

“Heavy,” Jack says.

“Surprisingly,” Cal adds.

“Are you OK?” Jack asks.

A trickle of sweat runs down my temple to my jaw.

“Yeah,” I say. “Fine.”

“’Cause it’s November and it’s cold and you’re kind of sweating a lot,” Jack says.

“I’m fine,” I say again.

Cal rubs his hands together. “Next hand!”

Jack starts shuffling. I watch carefully to make sure he isn’t doing something sketchy with the cards. It just seems too lucky for Cal to have won that last hand.

I wait until all the cards are passed out before I touch mine, for good luck. We all follow the same rule. Sometimes I even wait for everyone else to pick up theirs before I touch mine, for extra luck, even though that hasn’t worked out for me so far.

I have five pennies left and another lousy hand. A nine of clubs and a six of hearts. I fold.

Cal and Jack throw in their five. Cal raises. Typical. Jack folds. He has even fewer pennies than me now. Cal is going to win.

Next hand, I get a seven and a king, both hearts. Could be worse.

Cal calls and Jack goes all in with his four remaining pennies. Since we’re all bet up, Jack starts to turn all five cards up. A three of aces, a nine of hearts, a queen of hearts. He pauses. The right side of Cal’s mouth twitches. This is a tell I have no idea the meaning of. One more heart and I’ll be in great shape. Jack flips the next card and it’s a two of hearts. Yes! I have this. I can feel it.

The last card is an ace of spades.

Jack’s the first to show his cards, even though it should be me. Two tens.

I flip mine.

“Ooh! Nice hand,” Jack says. “That’s gonna be hard to beat.”

“Hard,” Cal says. “But not impossible.” He flips his cards over. Four of hearts and ace of hearts.

“No way!” I say.

Cal shrugs. “You know I’m lucky.”

I shake my head.

Cal picks up the paver and passes it from one hand to the other. “So, D. What were you planning on doing with this thing, anyway?”

Jack gathers the pennies nervously and puts them back in the container.

The image from my fantasy comes to mind again.

Me: Winding up with the paver in my hand.

Ape Boy: A look of confusion, surprise, and terror on his face, cowering.

Me:
This is for my sister!

But that’s about as far as I get in the fantasy. I can’t even make myself
imagine
smashing Ape Boy’s head.

“Nuh-nothing,” I say. “Actually.”

“Right. You have to tell us. That was the bet.”

“I just told you. Nothing. I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to scare someone. All right?”

“Who?” Cal asks. “The jerk from Little Cindy’s?”

“Dewey Hartson,” Jack says. “Your neighbor, right?”

“How’d you know his name?” I ask.

“Name tag. All the employees have to wear ’em.”

It’s strange how I never think of Dewey as anyone but Ape Boy.
Dewey
just doesn’t fit.
Dewey
sounds like the kid everyone beats up in middle school, not the perv who makes gross gestures to the girl next door.

“Why did you want to kill him with the paver?” Cal asks seriously.

“I didn’t want to kill him.”

“Why’d you want to
scare
him?” Jack asks.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“A bet’s a bet!” Cal says, way too cheerfully.

“The bet was I’d tell you what I was going to do with it. Not why.”

He bounces the paver from hand to hand. “Just tell us what he did. Maybe we’ll want to kill him ourselves. Maybe we’ll do it for you.”

“Where’d you get that thing, anyway?” Jack asks. “Did you steal it?”

Jack is the only one who’s been to my house and gone inside. He’s the only one who knows what my real life is like. Cal pulls to the curb when he picks me up and drops me off. Sure, he knows our yard is a wreck, but he has no clue what the house is like on the inside. The only reason Jack does is because I screwed up one time and overslept, and he came to the door to get me. My mom, being somewhat clueless, invited him in. She brought him to my room, and I remember waking up to see a look of horror and shock on his face. My room isn’t so bad, but he had to walk through the house to get there. Also, since my mom ran out of space to put stuff, a lot of times she puts boxes in my room “temporarily.” She always promises to move them, but it only happens when I do it secretly while she sleeps. I know there’s a name for what she does. But I don’t think it’s as bad as the stories you see on TV.

Jack seemed to think so, though. Later that day, he asked me what it was like to live with all that stuff. But he said
stuff
like he meant filth. I told him my mom needed it, so we put up with it. He seemed to understand. We never talked about it again after that. But any time I overslept, he waited outside. That’s how he knows about the Apes. Because a few weeks ago he was waiting for me and when I came to the door, they were outside, washing Ape Boy’s car.

“That your girlfriend, bitch?” Ape Boy called.

We stood and looked at them, with their Turtle Wax and buffing cloths and wife beater shirts and black sweatpants and plastic sandals even though it was cold out. Then we looked at each other and laughed.

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best reaction. Bullies do not like to be laughed at. But Cal isn’t exactly small, so when the Apes started walking toward us and Cal got out of the car and it was suddenly three against two, the Apes stopped in their tracks and waited for us to leave. Anyone checking the scene, their scene, would have been blinded by the shine on the blue muscle car. Or the meticulous gray driveway lined with matching pavers to divide the edge of their driveway from their immaculate lawn. I swear, Ape Man tiptoes across the grass every time a leaf falls on it to pick it up as quickly as possible. So we walked on and got in the car, and Cal peeled away from the curb, leaving skid marks on the street in front of the Apes’ house just to piss them off. It was kind of beautiful, really.

“So what did he do?” Jack asks.

“Who?” I ask, pretending to be clueless.

“Must have been bad!” Cal points to my earlobe with his index finger. “Your ear’s turning red. It only does that when you’re pissed or have a bad hand.”

“You realize you just gave away my tell?”

“Crap. Jack, forget what I just said.”

“So, what did your neighbor the Little Cindy’s guy do to deserve a smashed-in face?” Jack asks, gesturing toward the paver.

They wait.

I sigh and breathe in the stagnant tree-house air. Even in the November cold, it’s nasty.

“He just . . . went too far. That’s all. Can we drop it now?”

“Um . . . no? We want to know what he did!” Cal leans forward as if I’m going to tell him a secret. Whatever.

“He made a comment about Sammy,” I say. “It was stupid. But . . . just knowing that guy even looks at her makes me want to . . .” I make a fist.

“Aw, what a good brother,” Cal says approvingly. “God, she’s hot.”

“Seriously?” I ask. “Shut up.”

“Well, she
is
,” Cal says. “You can’t really deny that. But I’m with you. Sammy in that guy’s dirty thoughts is very wrong and must be stopped.”

“Agreed,” Jack says.

Cal reaches for the brick. “Give me that thing.”

“Forget it,” I say. “I’m not doing anything. He’s lying, anyway.”

“Whoa, what do you mean, ‘lying’? What did he tell you?”

Crap. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“Nothing.”

“Right. You think we’ll let you off without the details now?” Cal asks. “Please tell me he didn’t say he touched her.”

“Worse,” I say.

“C’mon, he has to be lying,” Jack says.

“He said they did it.” I zero in on the paver. Suddenly I have a renewed desire to smash it in Ape Boy’s face. Now that I’ve said the words out loud, the possibility of them being together seems even more awful.

“Gross,” Cal says. “And also? No way. Sammy’s way too smart and cool. The only way they did it is if he slipped her something and she was completely passed out.”

“That’s helpful,” I say.

But actually, it’s better than imagining her doing it willingly. I feel like hell for thinking that, but it would be the only logical reason she would ever go near him. In either scenario, I would still want to kill him.

“Look. It’s obvious the dude is lying. He’s just trying to get your goat.” Cal reaches for his backpack and scrounges around inside. He pulls out a Milky Way bar and takes a huge bite. The room instantly smells like chocolate.

My stomach growls loudly, and Cal hands me the bar. His teeth marks show on the end of it. “No thanks,” I say, passing it over to Jack.

He takes a bite. “So, what are you going to do?”

“Nothing,” I say. “Nothing with that, anyway.”

“Are you going to tell Sammy he’s been spreading lies about her?” Cal asks. “I bet Jacob would love that.”

“He’s not her boyfriend. He just follows her around and lusts after her like everyone else.”

“What about the paver?” Cal asks.

“I’m keeping it. It’s the only thing I’ve ever stolen in my life, and I’m not giving it back. Besides, they already replaced it.”

Cal shakes his head and grabs what’s left of the Milky Way back from Jack. “Those guys have an unhealthy obsession with their curb appeal. Just saying.”

“It’s all they have,” I say.

It’s a big realization, actually. I think maybe it really
is
all they have. I have no idea where Mrs. Ape is, if there ever was one. And Ape Boy never seems to bring any girls home. So who are they trying to impress? Are their postage-stamp-size house and their stupid muscle car and truck the only things they have? The only things besides each other? Ape Boy has a crap job. I don’t know what Ape Man does. Maybe they are just miserable. Maybe they are just clinging to the one thing they can control.

“D.? You still here?” Cal shakes me.

“Huh?” I look at the paver. Maybe I should give it back after all.

“I was saying I think we should keep the paver here,” Cal says. “It’s like . . . a monument.”