Canary (16 page)

Luke shrugged. “Well, maybe if you'd loosen up a bit and send Jack something to look at, he wouldn't need these pictures.”

“Seriously, Kate,” Dave said, giving Luke a high five. “I think you need to send the man some pictures fast.”

“You guys are assholes,” Jack said. He turned to me. “I always delete them when I get one.”

Jenna tried to change the topic and grabbed the bottle of vodka. She went around filling shot glasses. “Let's forget this and get wasted.”

I tried to catch Jack's eye, but he ignored me and picked a shot glass.

Luke raised his high. “To cheerleader skanks who are nowhere near as beautiful as these girls.”

“I second that,” Ali said. “To dirty, nasty whores.”

Reluctantly, I picked up my glass and toasted with the rest of them. I swallowed my shot and tried not to make a face as it went down.

I watched Jack, but he ignored me. I wanted to say something. I wanted to yell at him and make him delete the new pictures, but I couldn't. Not with his friends around; they'd never let me forget it. I didn't want to look like the bitch who tried to control her boyfriend. Jack wouldn't go for that. I'd talk to him later and make sure I gave him a piece of my mind.

Instead, I let Dave fill my glass again and threw back another shot so at least it would look as if I could hang with everyone else. There was no way I'd let Luke and Dave see they had gotten to me. What happened between Jack and me was none of their business.

Two hours later the boys left and Jenna, Ali, and I changed into our pajamas and spread our sleeping bags out on the basement floor. My head was spinning and I knew I'd drunk too much. I wanted to go to sleep and forget about Jack's cell phone.

Ali pulled a camera out of a side table drawer and waved it in front of us. “Let's take some pictures.”

“Pictures?” Jenna asked, yawning. I lay on my side and watched the two girls.

“Like the cheerleaders.” Ali put her hands behind her, up the back of her shirt. She fumbled around for a couple of seconds and then pulled her bra out. “We'll give them a little competition.”

“You're not serious?” Jenna giggled nervously as Ali handed her the camera.

“Of course I'm serious. Do you really think I want Luke to be looking at pictures of those bitches on his phone? I'm going to give him something better to look at.” She pulled her shirt off and held it in front of her chest. I marveled at how she did it just like that, as if it were simple to take your top off. Ali threw her shirt at my head. “Okay, I'm ready.”

Jenna shrugged and held up the camera. The flash lit the dark basement.

“You're crazy,” I told her. “What if Luke sends it to the rest of the team?”

Ali held her hands up and shrugged. “I've got nothing to hide. I'm a lot better looking than nasty-ass Liz. Take a few more.”

Jenna snapped pictures as Ali posed. “How many do you want? I don't think we need a whole photo shoot.”

“You're right.” Ali took the camera. She flipped through the shots. “Luke's going to love these.” She put her shirt on and walked over to me.

I knew what she was thinking. “No way.”

“Come on. Jack would love you forever. Just let me take one.”

“Not a chance.” I crossed my hands over my chest as if that would stop her.

“Kate, stop being a baby. You really want the cheerleaders sending your boyfriend naked pics?”

I shook my head, but I thought about what Ali said. After we started taking the shots of vodka together, no one mentioned the pictures again for the rest of the night, but Luke's comments were stuck in my head. Did Jack really think I was uptight? I was pretty sure the boys talked to each other about stuff like that. I wondered if he told the rest of them about how I wouldn't sleep with him. It wouldn't be
surprising. Sex was becoming a major issue. Jack was getting more and more aggressive when we were making out, and I knew he wasn't going to wait forever. It had gotten to the point where he'd get angry if I stopped him. He still hadn't said anything, but I could see it in his face. I didn't know why I was acting as if it was such a big deal. I was crazy about Jack, but something didn't seem right. It was times like this I wished I could talk to my mom.

I moved away from Ali. “This isn't going to happen.”

“Jack would love it,” she said and stuck the camera in my face. “Think about how pumped he'll be when he opens the message from you.”

“Oh, yes,” Jenna said and clapped. “That would be awesome. Send it to him right before he goes out onto the court.”

“I highly doubt a topless picture of me is going to improve Jack's game.” I sat on my sleeping bag.

I was ready to end the whole conversation, but Jenna pounced on me. She held me down and pulled up my shirt while Ali took a picture.

“What the hell are you doing?” I pushed Jenna off and reached for the camera. “Give it to me right now.”

Ali held on tight and looked at the screen.

Jenna peered over her shoulder, “You look hot, Kate.”

Ali turned the camera around so I could look at the picture, and I couldn't argue. My face in the photo was twisted in a look of surprise, but the cheerleaders had nothing on me. I did look pretty damn good. Jack would go nuts over something like this.

“Come on. Let's take a better picture. You can make your face look all sexy.”

“One picture?” I asked, feeling my willpower to fight this dissolve.

“Yep.” Ali tugged at my shirt. “Let's do this. I want to send mine to Luke. Give him something good to dream about.” She grinned wickedly at us.

“One,” I repeated and pulled off my top. I held it in front of me and then let it go so Ali could take my picture. I blinked as the flash blinded me.

www.allmytruths.com

Today's Truth:

A photo allows people to see only one version of you.

I face the camera, but I do

not smile.

Click.

Captured is the skin

that seals in my heart from all that has tried to break it.

Click.

Captured is the line of freckles on my shoulder,

a constellation of brown created by the burning sun.

Click.

Captured are my lips,

which seal in words I cannot say to my father.

Click.

Captured are my eyes,

foggy windows hiding a soul that is bruised.

Click.

Captured is the mole on my right breast,

a secret marking no one sees.

Click.

Captured is a scar cut across my forehead

a memory of falling down to the hard earth.

Click.

Captured is my hair

a veil that falls over my face to create a shadow of what you see.

Click.

This is me.

All of me.

Open.

Exposed.

I stand in front of you with nothing

to hide.

Posted By: Your Present Self

[Saturday, November 9, 11:04 AM]

I woke with a start as if I'd been dreaming I was falling. Only, unlike a dream where you wake before you hit the ground, the realization of what I did last night slammed into me harder than any ten-story fall.

This was why I didn't like to drink. Drinking made you do stupid, awful things you regretted in the morning. My head was foggy and I felt sick, but I crawled over to where Ali was still sleeping and shook her. “Where's your camera?”

She rolled over and groaned but didn't answer.

I poked her hard so she'd open her eyes. “Your camera. I need it.”

“It's on the table.”

I moved toward it.

“But if you want to send your picture to Jack, don't worry. I already did.”

I froze. “You're kidding, right?”

“No, I sent it to him before we went to bed. He probably had some pretty hot dreams last night. I bet if you check your phone, you'll have a message from him.”

I pulled my phone out from under my pillow and held it. But I couldn't bring myself to look and see what Jack said. I knew he would want the picture, but it wasn't me. I clutched the phone and turned to Ali. “I can't believe you sent my picture. I never told you that you could.”

Ali laughed, which made me angrier.

“This isn't funny,” I shouted.

Jenna rolled over and opened her eyes. “Shut up,” she said, tossing a pillow at me. “Some of us are still sleeping.”

I was shaking. I couldn't believe Ali thought this was funny. “You sent Jack a naked picture of me.”

“Relax. Calm down. I'm joking. I didn't send the picture.”

“You didn't?” I lay on my back and waited for my heart to stop racing.

“I didn't. Geez, you went psycho. It's only a picture.”

“Will you erase it? I can't send it to him.”

“Yes, relax. I'll get rid of it. Jack will have to be content with looking at your boobs in real life.”

Jenna crawled out of her sleeping bag. “Why are you talking about boobs?”

“Don't worry,” Ali said, waving a hand. “It's
nothing.”

Jenna rolled back over.

I allowed myself to relax. “Ali?”

“Yeah?” She sounded annoyed.

“You promise to get rid of the picture?”

“I promise.”

I had no reason not to believe her.

www.allmytruths.com

Today's Truth:

One word can mean more than any other word you have ever said in your life.

Jack has some new favorite words:

Sex

Please

Come on

Want

Need, need, need.

He says these words over and over again like a two-year-old

who wants something

and only knows how to get it by grabbing, taking, and repeating its name.

Jack practices these new words everywhere:

In my bedroom

In cryptic messages sent to my cell phone

On the couch in my living room

During conversations whispered late into the night before we hang up to sleep

Outside against the side of a house at a party

As his hand slides up my back at lunch

In the empty gym when it is pouring out and we wait for the rain to slow

At the movies in the dark row on the side of the theater

In folded notes he passes to me in the hallway

And everywhere, everywhere, everywhere else.

Jack has become a pro at saying these words,

and I let him practice.

I listen to him say them over and over again,

and I try out words of my own:

Wait

Stop

Not Ready

Go Slow

Scared, scared, scared.

I say my words

over and over

and he says his words

over and over

until we say them so many times they don't feel
different.

They become heavy, bloated, saturated,

Unnecessary.

And so, I learn a new word:

Yes.

Posted By: Your Present Self

[Wednesday, November 13, 1:14 AM]

I said yes to Jack the week before Thanksgiving in his basement after a game.

Jack was high on a sixteen-point win. He'd played the entire second period. Dad didn't put any other sophomore in for more than five minutes. The success of the game got people talking about Beacon's chances at going to the play-offs, and everyone was buzzed by the prospect.

Jack wanted to watch the video footage of his time on the court. He claimed it was all a blur to him. Dad, also in a great mood, agreed to let him borrow it. Jack put it in the DVD player, and we settled onto one of the mammoth couches that were so comfy they always made me want to fall asleep.

Jack chewed on his bottom lip as he fast-forwarded to the part in the video where he was called into the game.

“There I am,” Jack said softly.

I didn't watch the TV. Instead, I watched Jack's face. He stared at the screen, his eyes wide. I watched as the game played out for him and realized he wasn't watching himself with pride as some of the other players might. It looked like he couldn't believe that was him on the screen.

When the game ended, he turned to me, shaking his head slowly. “I got to play in that.”

“Congratulations,” I said. “It was pretty cool.”

“It's incredible.”

It was incredible. All of it: Jack, me, Beacon, what my life had become. Two years ago I'd watched Mom die and Dad shut down. I'd given up basketball. A year ago, if you asked me where I'd be, I wouldn't have believed any of this. I didn't think I could move forward back then, and now, here I was with Jack, the two of us together.

I'm not sure who moved toward the other first, but suddenly we were kissing and not the kissing we usually did where Jack pulled at me, begged me, or tried to take from me. This was slow, almost as if it were the first kiss or maybe the last and we needed to memorize it all.

Jack trailed his hand down the side of my face, his eyes locked on mine. I didn't look away as I often did, shy and self-conscious. Instead, I took it all in, everything, and when Jack continued to kiss me slowly, moving lower and lower, I didn't stop him. He pulled at my jeans, and I held my hips up slightly so he could slide them off of me. He paused as we lay there and asked if he should keep going. His eyes were clear and honest.

I said yes.

And so he did.

And so we did.

“I want to enlist,” my brother Brett announced the next night at dinner, seemingly out of the blue. I later learned the words had been dangling on his lips for months, already spoken to everyone around him: Uncle John, Julia, the guidance counselor, the history teacher, and the recruitment department four blocks from our house. These words had been uttered to everyone. Everyone except Dad and me.