Authors: Christopher Grant
Normally I’m not one to try and eavesdrop, but I couldn’t understand why she was getting off so easy. I tried not to make it too obvious, but since I was too far to hear, I stole glances at Beresford’s mouth, trying to read his lips. What I did manage to pick up from my dad was, “dangerous,” “more than you bargained for,” and “end up with the witch and a toad.” What? A witch and a toad? Oh! In a ditch by the road!
I am trying my best to find anything to take my mind off what’s happened tonight. Looking out of the window seems to be my best bet. Beresford glances at me when he notices that I’m staring in his direction but looks away when he sees that I’m looking past him. Nope, I’m not going to think about how I just saved my best friend from being on a milk carton. I’ll just look out the window.
I never realized how pretty the East River was at night. When the sun is up, it’s easier to see all of the oil and grime that floats on the surface, but at night, with all the buildings lit up, it’s actually kind of nice. As long as I stare out the window, I won’t wonder why my dad was so nice to Cherise and talks to me like I’m not worth the gum on the bottom of his shoe.
I don’t need either of them. They can go fly a kite for all I care. Yeah, I’m not gonna think about it anymore.
My back is turned to Cherise and I can’t come up with any good reason why I should turn around. I figure she’s going to curse me out sooner or later, so I’ll try to keep that from happening for as long as possible. I can’t say I feel good about getting her in trouble. Actually, I feel about fifty times worse right now. What if Big Daddy was a nice guy? He didn’t look all that threatening. He was just sweating a lot. What if I really ruined a good thing for her?
It is minutes to nine before we pull up in front of Cherise’s house.
“Wait here, Martine. I’ll be right back.”
I had no intention of getting out of the car. I see my father pointing and roll the window down in time to hear
him say, “… inside and get your mother. I want to speak with her.”
Cherise says, “My mother’s not home. She went to Cozumel with her boyfriend.” Her head is down and her hands are clasped together behind her back. When she’s feeling unsure of herself, she does this weird thing with her right foot where she rocks it back and forth on its side. She must really be scared, because she is doing that foot thing nonstop.
My dad tells her, “You’re staying with us tonight, so go upstairs and get a change of clothes. I’ll speak with her when she gets back.”
What? Why the hell is she staying with us tonight? I want to protest, but I don’t think my father is open to negotiations. Cherise nods her head and goes into the house. My dad walks back to the car but stays outside, leaning on the hood. He is shaking his head and sighing. I’m still waiting for him to just go off on her. It seems kind of unfair, because I would never have heard the end of it if I tried to pull some crap like Cherise did. He looks like he’s about to cry, but when he sees me looking at him, he straightens up and turns his face. My father would smile after stepping on a nail before he showed any sign of weakness.
Cherise comes back downstairs wearing a long-sleeve T-shirt, some pajama pants, and her hair wrapped up in a head scarf. She jammed her clothes into a couple of grocery bags and has her jacket tied around her waist.
When my dad starts the car, I reach for the knob on the radio. I’m getting antsy, and the thought of having to sit in the car without any conversation for ten more minutes is making
my head hurt. Beresford glares at me, and I switch it off before he says anything. I figure that any little thing might set him off, and I don’t want to be the one who gets the worst of it.
Cherise and I sit at the kitchen table while Beresford warms up the leftovers. Cherise says she’s not hungry—but that doesn’t stop my dad from setting a place for her. While he’s fixing the food, I finally get the courage to look up at Cherise. When our eyes meet, I look away long before she does, because if looks could kill, my heart would’ve stopped beating.
Before today, I never realized how annoying the sound of Beresford’s spife clinking against a plate was. I haven’t eaten any of my food and it’s probably ice-cold by now. I can’t take it anymore. “May I be excused?”
“No.” My dad doesn’t look up from chopping a chunk of fish. He finishes his food and takes a long drink of his Guinness stout. “How long has this been going on?”
Neither Cherise nor I answer. I look over at Cherise and she still has that mean look on her face, but she is staring down at the floor, shaking her head.
“I
said
how long has this been going on?” The anger in my dad’s voice startles me.
“Umm. I … I’ve known him for about three months.” I’m surprised that Cherise answered. He wasn’t getting a peep out of me.
“Three months?! Three flippin’ months?!?!? And you knew about this and didn’t say anything?” He’s looking right at me. “I am really disappointed in both of you.”
“Me?! What did I do, Daddy?”
“Accessory to the fact. You knew what was going on and did nothing to stop it.”
“But I told her not to—”
“Shut your blasted mouth. I don’t want to hear any excuses.”
That kind of talk is usually reserved for my brothers, and now I see why it works so well on them.
“This is very serious. I don’t think you two realize the danger that you put yourselves in. You should not be associating with people like that if you don’t know them, agreeing to meet them all times of the night. As for you, young lady”—his eyes and finger are pointed directly at me—“how could you call yourself she friend and not stop she from doing this foolishness? Or come and tell me at least?”
Beresford’s Bajan accent is coming out in full force. He’s all set to give me the third degree when the phone rings. It must be my mother, because his face relaxes a little when he answers it. He leaves the room to talk in private. I play with my rice, sensing Cherise is waiting for me to look up. When I do look up, she rolls her eyes at me as hard as she can. I can’t believe she sat there looking at me for that long just to do that. After a few minutes, Beresford comes back into the room and puts the cordless back on the hook.
“Both of you go upstairs and get ready for bed.”
When we reach the top of the stairs, Cherise turns to me and says, “Don’t you ever in your life even think about talking to me again.”
I
n the morning, I hear my mother’s melody. I sit up in the bed and smile, waiting for her to push my door and make everything better. It takes me a few seconds to realize that this morning her song is not meant for me. Her voice trails off as I hear her walk past my room and into the twins’ room to sing to Cherise. First I get dumped by my best friend and told never to speak to her again. Then my dad says he’s disappointed in me. Now my mother is turning on me too? How is this fair?
When my mother comes into my room, I’m not sure how to react. She starts to sing but then realizes that I am already awake.
“Good morning, sweetheart.”
“Morning, Mommy.” I guess my mother is done talking to Cherise, because I hear Cherise shuffling into the bathroom.
“How’re you feeling this morning?”
“I’m alright.”
“Hmm.” She nods her head and frowns a little. “I heard about what happened last night.” My mother starts stroking my hair and lifts my chin so I will look at her. “You did the right thing, Martine.”
“Yeah, right. Tell that to Cherise. She told me never to talk to her again.”
“She’s angry and can’t see past that. Give her some time. She’ll see how lucky she is to have you as a friend.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Then she wouldn’t be mad at me. I just want things to be how they were before.”
“Things won’t ever be the same, Martine, and if you want to become the best person you can be, you will never want things to be the same.”
That’s not what I was expecting to hear, and my mother sees the look of confusion on my face.
“The only constant in life is change. The sooner you understand that, the easier it will be for you to cope with hard times, learn from them, and grow.”
I nod my head as she continues.
“Is this where she got the money for those clothes?”
“Yes.”
“The first thing you have to do is forgive yourself. I know that’s hard, but you were being a true friend. Cherise will come to her senses one day. If she doesn’t, that’s her loss.” My mother kisses my forehead and leaves me with that one.
I turn the light on in my closet and decide to go with one of the velour suits my mother gave me. There’s a small hole on
the waistband, barely noticeable as long as I keep the jacket zipped and pulled down over it. I don’t feel like ironing this morning, so I carry the suit to the bathroom, hoping the steam from the shower will take out some of the wrinkles.
The water stopped running about ten minutes ago, so I’m pretty sure Cherise is out of the bathroom. As I raise my hand to open the door, she pulls it open. We startle each other before her eyes fall right onto the hole in my pants. She cracks a smile and laughs as she pushes past me.
If this morning is any indication of how things will be between Cherise and me, I had better start looking for a new best friend. I have to keep repeating “her loss” to myself every time she rejects my efforts to patch things up. We leave the house together but she sits on the other side of the train. That’s fine, her loss. I’ll have more room and won’t have to worry about her sneezing on me. Her eyes are so red it looks like she just finished taking a bong hit.
When we get to class, she asks Mr. Speight if she could move to another desk, saying there was gum on hers. Hey, again, no problem, her loss. Mr. Speight sprung another quiz on us this morning, and I know her lazy behind didn’t study for it. I hope she gets them all wrong and ends up with a big fat zero.
As tough as I try to play, I still want to talk to squash things with her. Every time I get anywhere near her during gym, she walks away from me. But I don’t give up. I need to talk to her, about making up, about Greg and the blessing thing. Finally, I get an opportunity when she bends down to
tie her shoelaces as we’re walking back into the building after gym class. I jog over and catch up to her. When I stop in front of her, she says, “Keep it moving” without even looking up at me.
“But, Cherise—”
“Get out my face.” She finishes tying her shoelaces and walks away.
Okay, now she’s starting to get me mad. I understand that she’s upset, but I was only trying to help her. If she can’t see that, then my mother is right. It is her loss! She’s lucky there are five people standing between us on the way up the stairs because all I can think about is how hard she would hit her head on the bottom step if I could reach her collar. If anything, I should be the one that’s upset. There’s no way my parents are going to let me go to Spain after what she got herself into. Besides being the ultimate cheapskate, Beresford is already super-overprotective of me. I’m sure he thinks that Cherise has corrupted me with her sneaky ways.
“Hey, sweetie.”
I almost bump into Greg on my way out of the staircase. He slides his hand around my waist and rests it just above my butt.
“Hi, Greg.” My stomach is churning like I’m making butter.
“Everything good with you? You got the crazy
Ms. I’m-’Bout-to-Swing-on-Somebody
look on your face.”
“I’m okay. I was just thinking about something.”
He eyes me for a second, tilts his head slowly to the side, like he’s trying to read my thoughts or something. I’m starting
to get uncomfortable with the mind reading when he says, “Oh, alright. Cool. So we still good for later, right?”
Forget feeling uncomfortable. My face probably doesn’t show it, but I’m on the verge of a full-scale panic attack. I look up at him, not sure what I should say. He’s smiling, so smiling back at him seems like the natural thing to do. His smile gets bigger and he says, “Good. I’ll see you at four outside the boys’ gym. Don’t be late.” He winks at me and walks away. I’m lost.
I’ve spent the last twenty minutes walking up and down the lunchroom looking for Crystal. She’s the only one that can help me now. Our table is empty, with everyone but Cherise and Crystal in Quebec. I walk past it and check every corner of the cafeteria. I scope out all the lunch lines, look in the center section, on the other side of the lunchroom, and in the bathroom, but I don’t see Crystal anywhere. I’m about to give up when I spot her sitting with some upperclassmen—well, upperclass
women
, in this case. What a relief. They’re off in the corner, and as I walk toward them, I can hear some of the girls talking loudly with each other.
“So my mother said I gotta pay my cell phone bill.”
“ ’Cause you got a job?”
“Yup. I was like okay. Mmm-hmm, okay. Puh-leeze. I called Verizon the next day and was like turn that piece of crap off.”
While they all laugh, I slide in behind Crystal and tap her left shoulder.
“Hi, Crys.”
She turns to look at me and gives a dismissive wave. ILL! What’s her problem?
“Listen, Crys, can I talk to you for a second? It’s kinda important.” I guess I can’t take a hint, because she spins around and rolls her eyes at me, like I’m bothering her or something.
“I’m kinda busy right now.”
“Oh.” I stand there entirely too long before I realize it’s time to go. “Alright then, I guess I’ll talk with you later.” She’s already turned her back on me and doesn’t say a word.
Embarrassed, I meet eyes with one of the girls sitting with Crystal. Everyone else is sitting at the table looking at me like I’m a loser, but this girl, the pretty one with the nose ring, is burning holes in my pupils. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like a lowly freshman, but the way she looks at me makes it seem like it’s the first day of school. As I’m about to turn, she starts smiling at me, though something about her smile doesn’t seem friendly. It’s almost like she’s laughing at an inside joke or something.
“You know, Crystal,” the girl says, “you shouldn’t be so mean to your little friend. Have a seat …” She looks over at Crystal for my name.