What We Knew (3 page)

Grunting, Trent hefted her higher. Lisa squealed. “I’d drive you guys, but I’m almost out of gas,” Trent said. “I’ll loan you some socks, though. To wear home.”

Lisa rode Trent back to his house. Adam wanted to give me a ride, too, but I’d had enough excitement for one night. I wanted my feet solidly on the ground. Adam and I waited on the porch while Lisa hobbled upstairs with Trent.

“I’ll get to hear about her foot for days,” I said.

I smoothed Adam’s hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead.

“How’d we escape unscathed?” I asked, kissing him again.

“Have you seen your knees?” he asked, smiling softly.

I sat on the steps and stuck my legs out straight. Under the porch light—red and raw and streaked with dirt—they looked worse than they felt. Tomorrow, if Lisa and I took Katie swimming, they’d sting like hell. I checked my phone: 10:38. The night seemed endless, like when Lisa and I stayed out until dawn at the diner where her mom waitressed. Getting wasted on candy-flavored drinks, eavesdropping on Trent and Rachel’s fight, getting stopped by a cop for the improper disposal of a taquito—it all felt like days ago.

I brought my ugly knees up under my chin. Adam kissed one and then the other. I picked a pine needle from his hair. “You think he’s real?” I asked.

“Banana Man?” He shook his head. “I feel like a jerk for what we did back there.”

“Me, too.”

Then he kissed my cheek and kept going. My eyebrows. My eyes. My nose. I cupped his face and pressed my lips to his until Trent’s mom let their cat out, ruining the mood. I compulsively checked my phone. Time was working again. If we hurried, Lisa and I would make it before my mom sent out the search dogs.

“How long does it take to find a pair of socks?” I said.

“In that room?” Adam scoffed. “Days.”

“I’ll be back.” I kissed the top of his head and jogged upstairs. Trent’s door was closed. I threw it open. I froze.

Lisa was on Trent’s bed.

Under Trent.

In her lacy peach bra.

My face burned. It was that jerk from Troy all over again. Only Lisa wasn’t there to save me.
Wait … No …

I could practically feel him on top of me again, holding me down. My tongue tripped over the words screaming in my head.

Stop … Please …

“Spit it out, Trace,” Trent laughed as he rolled off the bed and grabbed his shirt. There was a reason why our drama teacher cast him as the devil in our last production. I grabbed Lisa’s tank top, holding it out to her, but Lisa crossed her arms and shook her head.

I looked at the tank top in my hand. It was the wrong one anyway, the one she’d used to wipe Trent’s face. I rubbed the stained ribbing—stiff and coppery—and thought:
the blood in our veins runs blue
. Not red, not until it comes in contact with air. How many things are like that, the opposite of what you thought to be true? You spend your whole life thinking things are one way and then something comes along and destroys the illusion. But then you find out that’s false, too: the blood in our bodies
is
red. Sometimes it’s hard to know what to believe. Lisa needed saving, but not from Trent. She wanted to be there.

You had, too.

Invisible fingers,
his
fingers, tightened around my throat.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Lisa said, nodding her head toward the door pointedly.

I tried to say okay, but my voice failed again. Clinging to the banister, I stumbled down the stairs. Outside, Adam was kicking a soccer ball around the yard.

“Lisa’s staying,” I nearly cried. Adam looked confused. I shook my head. “My knees hurt.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he said, offering his arm for support.

“No. I’m fine. Can you make sure she gets home?”

The second it left my mouth, I was sorry I’d said it. I didn’t trust her that night.

“Maybe you could call her a cab,” I said, digging through my pocket for cash I didn’t have.

“I’ve got it,” he said. He gave me a quick kiss and tapped my nose. “Go, before you’re late.”

It was stupid, walking alone so late at night, taking the shortest route instead of the safest. I never go that way. It’s too dark. But that night I was too busy being angry, angry with Lisa, angry with Trent. After what my father did to my mother, it hurt to think they might be the same. I was wondering whose betrayal would hurt Gabe worse—his girlfriend or his best friend—when I heard it: the whisper of rubber on concrete, a whirring chain spinning. Too close to outrun. A shadow rose up sharply, swallowing mine. Brakes squealed. A hand clutched my shoulder. My body did it again, just like that day in Troy when my arms and legs seized up instead of lashing out. Frozen, I braced for the black pain of a knife in the ribs until a familiar voice asked, “Why so tense?”

My limbs relaxed, softening, and I turned. It wasn’t some jerk in a hoodie. It wasn’t the monster from my nightmares. Soft brown curls. Warm brown eyes. My heart took on a different rhythm, beating out
Foley, Foley, Foley.
I never know what to call him—Michael Foley. There needs to be a word for someone who straddles friend and soul mate. He was there for me when my parents split up. Lisa talked to me, but Foley listened. He’s one of those rare people who make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world. That he cares for no one more than you. And he means it. That’s why everyone loves him. And because everyone loves him, I can’t. I hate that he makes everyone feel special.

I don’t like to share.

“How’s it going with Adam?” he said. He hopped off his bike and ran his fingers through his hair. I could remember the way it felt running my own through it. I used to love his hair, especially when he let it get a little too long. Now I loved Adam’s.

“Good! Great! Amazing!” I groaned internally—I sounded shrieky and stupid, but I couldn’t stop. “We’re so good together! I’m really, really happy!”

“Really, really?!” Foley mimicked. I rolled my eyes. But then in that intense voice of his—the one I secretly wished was reserved for me—he said, “If not, I want to know.” After what happened with Jerk Face, Foley started keeping tabs on my boyfriends. He’s the only one who knows what really happened. Not even Lisa knows.

“I’m a little stressed right now,” I said. “It’s been a really weird night.”

“I’m supposed to meet Jeff Hollenbeck,” he said, shifting his weight. “Come with me and we’ll talk on the way.”

I checked my phone. The only way I’d make it home now was if I sprinted.

“I can’t,” I said. “Call me, okay? You never call me anymore.”

“I will.” He smiled and my insides went soft and fluttery. “Hey, it was really good to see you,” he said, flicking my collar—Adam’s collar. “Really, really.”

Watching him bike away, I kicked myself for not going with him. He looked back before he turned the corner and the wind caught his curls and I imagined twisting a soft lock round and round my finger. Foley’s never been my boyfriend, but we’ve fooled around. The last time was a couple of weeks before I started dating Adam. We were in the cemetery. Creepy, I know. But my mother always says it’s not the dead you have to fear, it’s the living.

Suddenly the street turned darker and quieter. Everything stilled. It was the same feeling I’d had in the woods. Someone was watching. I could feel eyes everywhere at once. Leering, lurking. From the rooftops, the storm drains, the alley. Under my skin, inside my thoughts. My stomach twisted as my heart sped up. I started running, my eyes focused on the stoplight—green, yellow, red, green, yellow, red—not wanting to see what was behind me, above me, beside me.

I spent a lot of the summer running from things I didn’t want to see.

three

I was still lounging on the couch in my pajamas, working on my second bowl of cereal, when Lisa and her little sister, Katie, came in already dressed for the pool.

“Knock much?” I mumbled through a mouthful of O’s. I waved my hand for Lisa to move. She was blocking the TV, and they were about to do The Big Reveal on my favorite home makeover show.

“I’ve been texting you for an hour,” she said crankily, crossing her arms.

I glanced down at the phone next to me and lowered my cereal bowl, trying to hide the blinking light I’d been ignoring all morning.

“Miss Thang wants to go swimming,” Lisa said.

“It’s hot,” Katie whined. “I’m sweating my boobs off.”

“You don’t have any boobs,” Lisa said.

Katie stuck out her chest. “More than you.”

“Sad but true,” Lisa conceded, gesturing to Katie “Look, she fits in my old bikini.”

“I thought you said bikinis are gross,” I asked Katie.

“Ryan’s gonna be there,” she said, cocking her bony hip.

“Isn’t that the kid that lives in a van?” I asked.

Katie ignored me, plunking down in the recliner and staring at the TV.

“You and I need to talk,” Lisa said, grabbing my hand. She tossed her sister the remote and then dragged me to the kitchen where my eyes snagged on the list of chores stuck to the fridge, punishment for coming home late. Laundry I could handle, but making me scrub the toilet was just mean. My mom knows touching it—even with gloves—makes me gag.

“What happened last night…” Lisa said. “It’s not what you think.”

“How do you know what I think?”

“I didn’t … you know.” Lisa avoided my eyes, examining her nails. “I left right after you.”

“Still,” I said, rinsing my bowl. “What were you thinking?”

“Jealous?” Lisa wiggled her eyebrows and then screamed when I squirted her with the sink sprayer.

“I ran into Foley last night,” I said, sighing.

“See? You’re not perfect either.”

“We talked,” I said. “I didn’t stick my tongue down his throat.”

I didn’t cheat.

Lisa opened the freezer. “Can I have a waffle?” she asked. “Hey, Katie, you want a waffle?”

While Lisa waited for the toaster, I went to get dressed. I struggled into my bathing suit—still damp from yesterday—and dragged my hair into a ponytail. Adam’s oxford—it still smelled like him—frayed cutoffs, flip-flops. I was searching for my sunglasses when Lisa’s sister started howling in the living room.

“What are you oh-ing about?” I asked, running into the room.

“This guy on TV! He has a tapeworm in his eye!”

“I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be watching that,” I said, turning off the TV. My sunglasses were on the end table. I grabbed them as Lisa tossed her sister a waffle on the way out the door. Katie liked to exaggerate, but she was right—it was stupid hot. I started sweating the minute I stepped outside. “Did Trent slip us something last night?” I asked, locking up. “I think I tripped.”

“You weren’t tripping,” Lisa said, fluttering her fingers in my face. “Last night was freaky.”

“So there really was a staircase in the woods?” I said. “I didn’t dream that part?”

Nibbling the crispy edge around her waffle, Lisa said, “You didn’t dream it.”

Katie was halfway down the block already. Jogging was out of the question. My knees were killing me. I bribed her to wait with the promise of gum. Sixth-graders will do anything for gum.

“I know I’m being paranoid,” I said. “But I swear someone followed me home.”

Lisa cocked her head. “That’s funny. Adam said he felt weird, too, like we were being watched.”

I stopped. “Adam?”

“He walked with me to Cutler.”

I lowered my mirrored glasses and trudged on. I hate sun. It gives me a headache. And Lisa was wearing too much concealer. It made her hard to look at. I told her her face looked orange.

“You’re in a mood today,” she said. “You’re being weird. Bitchy weird. What’s wrong?”

The hiss of air brakes made me jump. The Route 5 on its way to the mall. The driver waved. I waved back. Marty. He’s one of the good ones. He’s always been nice to my mom, not like some of the other guys who gave her a hard time after she got promoted to supervisor. My dad used to work for the bus company, too, as the head of maintenance, until he had his meltdown. The last I heard, he was working as a night security guard in some office building downtown.

“Are we going to Trent’s tonight?” I asked.

“Yeah, I guess. Gabe’s off at four.”

“Did you tell him you lost your necklace?”

We sidestepped a broken bottle and hurried past the sleazy bar with the blackened windows. I hate the blocks between Brandywine and Sumner. It’s this pocket of sadness in the middle of our neighborhood. My mom said it’s spreading from downtown, that it used to be different. Now even the stores are depressing: payday loans and pit bull breeding and rent-to-own furniture. A couple of girls on bikes went by. Katie waved, but they ignored her. When we reached Pinewood, we crossed the street out of habit. It had been a long time since we’d been this aware of the woods. I shivered despite the heat. The three of us kept our eyes on the sidewalk. No one said anything. Lisa and I were kids again, holding our breath to pass a cemetery. And then a horn honked, breaking the spell. Rachel in her fumy hatchback.

“Where you headed?” she asked.

Lisa pointed to the sign for Hillhurst Park and said, “Pool.”

“You and Trent patch things up?” I asked. Not that I cared. I just wanted Lisa to squirm.

Rachel lowered her stereo. “Yeah, we’re fine. It was nothing.”

“See?” I said, nudging Lisa with my elbow. “I told you it wasn’t serious.”

Lisa whacked me with her bag, and I wheeled on her. “Bug,” she said flatly. “Got it.”

“I’ll catch you tonight at Trent’s,” Rachel said.

“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my arm. “See you later.”

Lisa smiled uneasily. “Later.”

All three of us clutched our ears as Rachel peeled away from the curb. Two months and she still hadn’t mastered stick shift. Katie lowered her hands to her hips and threw us a suspicious squint.

“Why are you guys fighting?” she asked.

“We’re not fighting,” I said.

Shrugging, she snapped her gum and marched on.

Lisa’s breath on my neck made me shudder. “It was a mistake,” she hissed. “Wait till you slip up, Kolcun.”

My mom calls the pool at Hillhurst the Polio Pit—whatever that means. It’s not like a real pool, with diving boards and slides and ladders for getting in and out. It’s more like a pond with a concrete bottom. Chlorinated or not, it’s kind of scuzzy and today it was crawling with kids. Lisa and I claimed a spot in the grass, away from the mothers with their screechy voices. Katie whipped off her cover-up immediately. I hate feeling like everyone’s watching you undress, even if they’re not. Lisa held up a towel to hide me while I stripped, then slathered her sister with triple-digit SPF. I’m all about the tanning butter. I like my ghostly skin, but I also like how I look after a week at the pool, especially my legs.