Picture Perfect Page 12

  “Hi.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, and we watched the dancers for a minute. Caroline’s advice started running through my head. I looked around for somebody I could talk to, since it seemed like Nick wasn’t going to ask me to dance. A line had formed outside the girls’ rest room.

  I said, “Excuse me,” at the very same second Nick said, “Want to dance?”

  “Okay.”

  He took my hand and led me onto the floor just as the song ended. I let go of his hand, but he pulled me back. “Hold on.”

  Another tune started and we danced, concentrating on not mangling each other’s feet. The song was an old one by the Eagles. Even though every time we discussed music, Ashley insisted they were way past hip, I totally loved their music, and I told Nick so. When it was over, Nick said, “Want a soda?”

  And just like that we were a couple. We went to the refreshments table, and Nick got our sodas while I filled our plates. We found seats on a bale of hay near the chaperone’s corner, and Mrs. Grady and Mr. Clifton glowered at us, like it was our fault they’d had to give up their Saturday night to make sure we didn’t have too much fun.

  Nick said, “I heard you and your friends got into trouble in PE the other day.”

  “Yeah.” I almost cracked up again just telling him about it.

  He told me he was thinking of going out for the basketball team next semester, and that his cousin in Houston had just turned sixteen and gotten a motorcycle. Then we ran out of topics, until I remembered something Shyla had once said, that the easiest way to make conversation with a boy is to ask him questions about himself. Then all you have to do is say “Really?” or “No way!” every few minutes, and he’ll just keep going and going like that battery-powered rabbit in the TV commercials.

  “Have you ever ridden a cycle before?” I asked, and the next time I looked at the clock, a whole hour had gone by. It was surreal, like I was standing outside watching myself laugh and talk and flirt with one of the cutest guys in the freshman class. Katie floated past on the arm of a lanky boy with stegosaurus hair who sat in the back row of Madame Rochard’s class. Smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary, Katie waggled her fingers at me, and I waved back.

  The deejay took a break, and the cheerleaders gave away some door prizes. Gillian won a pair of passes to the Eden movie theater, and a girl from Mr. Clifton’s class won a coupon for free pizza. Katie’s guy scored a certificate for a free CD from a music store downtown, and everybody got a coupon good for a dollar off our next purchase at Gus’s.

  The deejay came back and was three or four songs into the last set when Nick said, “Let’s go outside.”

  We went out front, where a bunch of other kids were milling around talking, their voices muffled in the dark. A few couples had wandered out to the parking lot and were sitting on the curb, their backs to the building.

  “You look really pretty,” Nick said.

  “Thanks. I got this outfit in Dallas. My neighbor and I drove up there in her convertible. It’s a great car.” I knew I was babbling, but being there in the dark with such a completely awesome guy was making me nervous. He was standing so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.

  Nick bent his head and his lips brushed mine, in a soft, warm kiss so quick that at first I thought I’d imagined it. I felt so strange, completely changed on the inside, as if I’d crossed a magical threshold into a different world. It was a moment I wanted to hold on to forever.

  The outdoor floodlights blazed on, and Mrs. Cantrell’s voice cut through the darkness, “Okay, people, back inside!”

  We went back to the gym just as the deejay dimmed the lights and announced a slow song. Nick wound his arms around me as we moved to the music, and I wished this night could go on till the end of time. But the song ended, the lights came back up, and after one last fast song that got everybody moving Mrs. Cantrell wished us all a good night.

  Nick and I joined the crowd heading for the exit. When we got outside, I spotted Daddy’s car in the parking lot. “There’s my ride.”

  “Okay. See you.”

  And before I could tell him how wonderful the whole night had been for me, and how I would never forget one single moment of it, Nick turned and walked away like nothing had happened.

  I got into the car, wondering if Daddy could see that I was different, if he’d guess I’d had my first kiss. I was glad for the darkness that hid my face. Not that I was ashamed or anything. It’s just that there are some things fathers are better off not knowing.

  He pulled through the parking lot, and we started home. “Did you have a good time?” he asked.

  “I had a great time.”

  Which was the biggest understatement of the century.

  “So,” Shyla began the next morning when I called to fill her in on the dance. “Did Nick kiss you?”

  I’d stayed awake most of the night reliving every second of our time together, but I couldn’t talk about it. Sharing it with anyone, even Shyla, would diminish it.

  “I’ll take that silence as a yes,” Shyla said, laughing. “Did you meet any nice girls?”

  “Not really. Mostly I hung out with Nick.”

  “Boys are great, but they can be fickle. Don’t shut your girlfriends out of your life just to be with them.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Okay, I get the message. No more advice. Tell me: Did they drag out that fake longhorn steer?”

  “Yeah. Let’s just say it has seen better days.”

  “No kidding. He was there at my Howdy Dance, and that’s been a while. I bet they had door prizes and an orange-and-white cake, too, didn’t they?”

  “Why, Shyla Trask, you sound homesick.”

  A long sigh came over the phone. “Maybe I am. I’m tired of the grind, you know?”

  “A barista tired of the grind. Very funny.”

  “Shut up. I’m being serious here.”

  “Sorry.” I nudged Lucky aside and rolled over on my bed, sending a magazine and my algebra text sliding to the floor. “You could always take next semester off and come home. Mama would be thrilled.”

  “Yeah, but with all my AP credits, I’m close to finishing junior year. I should stick it out. I’m glad Mama’s coming home, though. She sounds tired all the time. I’m worried about her.”

  I heard a series of clicks, and Shyla said, “Oops, there’s my other line. Catch you later, kiddo. Glad you had a blast at the dance. Bye!”

  I hung up and took Lucky outside. Zane was working on his car. The hood was up, tools were scattered everywhere, and the battery was sitting on the driveway. I pounded on the fender and he jumped.

  “Jeez, Phoebe, don’t do that!”

  “Sorry. What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning the battery cables. Toss me that wire brush.”

  I handed it to him. “Where’s the judge?”

  “Guess,” my brother said grimly. He jerked his thumb, and then I saw Daddy and Beverly sitting on her front porch talking. “He’s been over there for an hour.”

  “What are we going to do about it?”

  “What can we do?” He attacked the corroded battery connections and wiped the gunk off with a rag. “If he’s determined to make an ass of himself, we just have to put up with it till Mom gets back.”

  “Shyla’s worried about Mama. Do you think she’s sick?”

  “Shyla?”

  “Mama, you goof.”

  “Well, how was I supposed to know who you meant?” Zane tossed the rag onto the ground and lifted the battery into place. “Hand me that wrench.”

  He tightened the nuts and jiggled the battery. “That ought to do it.”

  Zane slammed the hood into place and gathered his tools.

  “Zane,” I persisted. “Do you think Mama’s sick?”

  The muscle in his jaw jumped the way it always did when he was mad. “Hard to tell, since in the last six months we’ve seen her for a grand total of fifteen minutes.”

  Beverly’s laughter d
rifted across the yard. Daddy got up from her porch swing and came home. Lucky bounded over to him and dropped a Frisbee at Daddy’s feet.

  “Hey, boy.” Daddy patted Lucky’s head, tossed the Frisbee, and said to us, “How about lunch? I’m starved.”

  “I’m eating at Ginger’s,” Zane said. “Gotta hit the shower.”

  Daddy watched him jog up the driveway and into the house. “What’s bothering your brother?”

  If I’d had the guts to confront Daddy right then, it would have saved a whole pack of problems, but without Zane to back me up I was too chicken to say anything. I shrugged. “Beats me.”

  Daddy said, “I guess that leaves you and me. Want to grab a burger at Gus’s?”

  A burger sounded good—wonderful, in fact—but I wasn’t in the mood to make small talk with my father. “I have a ton of homework,” I said. “Maybe we should make a sandwich or something.”

  “All right.” Daddy whistled for Lucky. We went inside and made grilled cheese sandwiches. After we ate, I went to my room, got my homework out of the way, and spent the whole afternoon dreaming of Nick.

  Monday morning everybody was still keyed up about the dance. As I was opening my locker, Ashley cornered me, demanding to know all the details about who had danced with whom, but since I’d spent the whole night totally absorbed in Nick, I couldn’t tell her a whole lot. I described the deejay, the decorations, the door prizes, the cake that hardly anybody ate.

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Ashley said, stuffing books into her backpack. “Those cakes always look way better than they taste. My mom says the frosting is made mostly from shortening and powdered sugar. Ugh.” She made a face. “So, did you dance with anybody special?”

  “Nick. We had a great time.”

  “You are so lucky!”

  The bell rang. Ashley said, “See you at lunch!”

  I headed for French class, counting the minutes till science lab and my first glimpse of Nick. Since he’d complimented me on my looks at the dance, I’d agonized over what to wear today, not wanting to disappoint him. I finally decided on the pink sweater from Beverly, with black jeans and an armload of chunky bracelets. I raided Mama’s Bee Beautiful stash and picked out a new lipstick, a soft pink called Romantic Rose. After history, I raced to the rest room to brush my hair and reapply my lipstick. I popped a breath mint into my mouth and slid into my seat in the science lab just as the bell rang.

  Which turned out to be a lot of trouble for nothing, as Nick was absent again, the third time he’d missed school on a Monday. Mrs. Grady shot me a dirty look as she sent me to sit with a couple of other students, like it was my fault my lab partner hadn’t shown up.

  That afternoon Zane dropped me at the bookshop downtown so I could replace the French/English dictionary I’d lost. I got a new one, plus a couple of paperbacks, then hung around downtown windowshopping, killing time until court let out and Daddy could take me home.

  I ducked into a convenience store to buy a soda, and when I came out, Nick was heading into the drugstore on the corner. I jogged across the street and waited under the red awning until he came out.

  “Nick! Hi!”

  “Hi.” He folded a flat white drugstore bag and shoved it into his jeans pocket. He kept his head down, but I could still see an ugly bruise at his temple.

  “Are you okay? Everybody missed you at school today.”

  He started walking fast, and I hurried to keep up with him. “I’m fine, Phoebe,” he muttered. “Just leave me alone, okay?”

  “What happened to your face?”

  He stopped. “Who are you, the freaking police?”

  “No, but that bruise wasn’t there on Saturday night. I would have noticed.”

  I touched his arm. “Tell me.”

  After a long silence he said, “It’s my dad. Most of the time he’s okay, you know? He takes Jacob fishing and shows up at my football games like he’s the allAmerican dad. But when he drinks, he turns into a monster, yelling at us, swearing at Mom and hitting her. I try to keep him away from her when he gets like that, but he’s a lot bigger than me.”

  “That’s horrible. Can’t he get help, like at AA or something?”

  “He won’t go to the meetings. He promises he will, but when the time comes, he says nothing is wrong with him and she should get off his back about it.” He raked the hair out of his eyes. “Weekends are the worst.”

  “That’s why you’re absent on Mondays.”

  “Yeah. After his binges Mom is usually in pretty bad shape. She won’t let me call the cops. I don’t know what to do.”

  “We should talk to my dad. He knows the law. He can help.”

  “No! If Pop finds out I’ve told anybody our business, he’ll make it worse for all of us. You can’t say anything, Phoebe. Promise me you won’t.”

  “I promise. But think about talking to my dad. He’s good at keeping secrets. Maybe he can figure out some way to help without your dad finding out.”

  “Listen, I gotta go.”

  “Okay. See you tomorrow, I guess.”

  “Yeah.” He managed a weak grin. “I had a great time Saturday night. Before I got home, I mean.”

  “Me too.”

  He headed down the street, past my dentist’s office and a jewelry store. At the corner he turned back to me. “You want to hang out at the Halloween carnival this year?”

  “Sure.”

  I watched him until he disappeared onto Thornton Avenue, then I crossed the street and walked to the courthouse to meet Daddy, torn between wanting to keep my promise to Nick and feeling that I should find some way to help him.

  On the way home my father seemed too preoccupied to ask a million questions about my day, the way he usually did. Most of the time I thought it was a huge pain to have to fill him in on everything, until he didn’t ask and I realized how much I looked forward to telling him what all was going on in my life. Well, most of it, anyway.

  “Tough day, Daddy?” I asked as we waited for the traffic light to change.

  “No more than usual. Just a couple of annoying phone calls.”

  “Hang-ups, like before?”

  “No. This time the caller had plenty to say.” He patted my knee. “Don’t worry about it. A judge can’t please all the people all the time. Criticism comes with the job.”

  He seemed in control of the situation, so I didn’t let it worry me too much. I thought about school, homework, and my plans for taking in the Halloween carnival with Nick. Zane had promised to drop me at the carnival on his way to pick up Ginger, and Daddy would drive me home after.

  The next few weeks went by in a blur of classes, pep rallies, and homework projects. When carnival night came, Zane grabbed his keys and the box containing his rented costume, and we headed for the school. He didn’t say much on the way there, but I could tell he was excited to be spending the evening with Ginger, even though they’d have to leave the party early to make it back to Eden by her curfew. Zane pulled into the driveway and stopped. “Here you go, kiddo. Have fun, but don’t do anything dumb, okay?”

  “Same to you.” I got out of the car and closed the door. Zane shot me a grin and peeled onto the highway.

  It was warmer than normal for the end of October, and Mrs. Cantrell had decided to move the carnival outside. Tables laden with food and beverages were set up on a grassy field adjacent to the football stadium. The hay bales from the Howdy Dance were decorated with plastic jack-o’-lanterns and a grinning skeleton that danced when you walked by him.

  A bonfire was blazing, and the band was tuning up. Ash and Courtney were sitting on a hay bale with Katie, Gillian, and a couple of other girls I didn’t know, drinking hot cider from Styrofoam cups. They waved me over. Ashley scooted over to make room for me. “Hey, Phoebe. Where’s Nick?”

  “He’s coming later.”

  “I’m so jealous,” Courtney said. “You’re the first girl in our class to have a boyfriend.”

  I wasn’t sure how to describe my re
lationship with Nick. Since we lived so far apart, I saw him mostly at school, and sometimes he put up an invisible wall between us that left me feeling confused. Still, it felt great to be considered half of a couple. I looked out across the field. People were roasting marshmallows over the bonfire, sending the smell of burned sugar into the air. “I’m starving,” I said. “What’s to eat?’

  “The usual,” Courtney said. “Pizza and ice cream.”

  “But,” Ashley said with a grin, “there is no Howdy cake.”

  “There is, however, a Happy Halloween cake,” Katie said. “It’s probably the same one, recycled.”

  A boy from French class sidled over to us and said, “Hey, Courtney.”

  “Hi, Dexter.”

  “Um. You want to hang out?”

  “Sure. Okay.” She handed Ashley her cup. “See you later.”

  They moved off into the dark. Ashley said, “Dexter? What parents in their right mind would name a kid Dexter?”

  “You’re just jealous,” Katie teased. “I think he’s adorable, in a geeky kind of way. Come on. Let’s eat.”

  “I’m going to listen to the band,” Gillian said. “Catch you later.”

  Ashley, Katie, and I went to the tables and got some pizza. I had just taken a huge bite when Nick walked up behind me and said, “There you are.”

  “Hi, Nick!” Katie and Ashley said together.

  Then Ashley said, with a mischievous grin, “We’re so relieved you’re finally here. Phoebe was about to expire waiting for you to show up. If you hadn’t turned up when you did, we’d have had to give her CPR.”

  “Very funny, Ashley.” I offered Nick a bite of pizza.

  “I’m not hungry,” he said. “Let’s go listen to the band.”

  Nick and I walked across the field and sat on the grass, our shoulders touching, close enough to the fire to feel its heat but far enough away that we were deep in the shadows. A few kids milled nearby, joking with the band.

  “Are you okay?” I asked quietly. “Is your dad—”

  “Sober when I left. But I heard him tell Mom he was going out with a couple of friends, so who knows how long that will last.”

  “I still wish you’d let me tell my dad what’s going on. I know he’d want to help.”