Fear and Laundry (13 page)

Lia hugged the tattooed hand to her chest. “Uh-uh,” she said. “You’re not ruining my moment, Vee.” With at least one of her missions accomplished, Lia declared we should head out. She was tired. Jake and Paige, she informed me, had already left together.

I’d told Alex earlier I didn’t plan to stick around too late, so he wasn’t surprised when I told him I was leaving. We exchanged phone numbers and said goodbye, Alex leaning in to hug me before I turned and squeezed through the crowd with Lia.

“That seems to have gone well,” she said when the crowd spit us out by the exit.

“I guess.”

“You don’t like him.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s not that. I just don’t think we have a lot in common.”

“How do you know? You’ve hardly talked to him yet.” She wanted to know when we were going out on a real date.

“Thursday,” I said. He was taking me to dinner. “And then the football game,” I added bleakly.

“You never know. It might be fun,” she said. But she looked at me sympathetically.

“Right.”

***

L
ia rounded the corner of Eckerd’s snack food aisle to find me poring over the drug store’s candy selection. “I think we’ve got enough, don’t you?” she asked. Her arms were laden down with bottles of soda and packages of pretzels and chips. It was Sunday and we’d stopped by the drug store for a quick junk food run before rehearsal.

My arms were full, too, balancing a Diet Coke and package of gummy bears for myself, a Mountain Dew and bag of peanut M & Ms for Jake, and a pack of bubble gum for all of us to share.

“I want to get something for Paige,” I said. “But I don’t know what she likes.”

“For Paige? Why?”

“As a thank you.” Lia’d been right, after all. Paige had stepped in and kept Ridley from killing me the other day.

“She owed you. For being such an asshole the rest of the time.”

“We have to bring her something,” I insisted.

Lia plucked a Kit Kat bar from the shelf and delicately placed it atop the bounty in my arms.

“Chocolate?” I said, doubtfully.

“With a butt that big? Trust me, she’s a chocolate fan. Now let’s go.”

The gray-haired cashier at the counter stood reading
The National Enquirer
and singing softly along with the radio playing “Ramblin’ Man” from a shelf behind her. There was no one in line ahead of us, so Lia and I dumped our loot beside the register. Lia produced a thin strip of paper from her pocket, the receipt for the roll of film she’d dropped off for development over a week ago.

As the cashier moved away to get the packet of photos, I reached for my wallet. Lia stopped my hand. “I’ve got this,” she told me.

“You always pay for everything,” I said.

“So you should be used to it by now.”

***

A
t Lia’s house, Jake’s van had been moved onto the driveway and finally sprayed clean. I stepped over the garden hose still lying like a dead snake in a puddle of soapy runoff, and followed Lia to the front door. Paige was already inside, watching television and drinking iced tea in the living room. She said Jake had let her in, but then gone off to answer a phone call.

“What’s this for?” she asked when I handed her the chocolate bar.

I shrugged, instantly feeling stupid. “I wanted to thank you. You know. For the other day with Ridley.”

“So you brought me candy?” She smiled sardonically. “That’s so...cute.”

“What would you have preferred?” asked Lia, turning off the television and kneeling by the coffee table. She upended the orange photo envelope, sending pictures sliding everywhere. “Porn and cigarettes?”

Paige unwrapped the Kit Kat bar. She didn’t break the pieces apart the way you were supposed to, but instead bit directly into the complete block, munching contentedly.

‘
Told you
,’ Lia mouthed at me. I sat down beside her and reached into the plastic Eckerd’s bag lying crumpled between us.

“What’re the pictures of?” Paige wanted to know. I pulled the seam apart on the bag of gummies, sending bears soaring across the table.

“Just some stuff I took at the Ghostly Images show at Lynch’s a couple weeks ago. Figure we can run some of ‘em in the next
Blank Slate
,” Lia replied as I rounded up the escaped bears. “What else have we got for the issue?” she asked me, pushing the pictures around, rearranging them to see how best they looked. “I mean, besides these and your comic?” I’d shown her the creation I’d come up with in study hall and she’d liked it.

 “That’s about it so far,” I said, chewing as I studied the photographs. A couple of the pictures overlapped one another and I reached out to separate them with my pinky.

“What about your big interview with Clyde Kameron?” asked Paige.

I almost choked on a gummy bear. “Where’d you hear about that?” Lia asked, whacking me hard on the back until the bear dislodged from my throat.

Paige’s tongue darted out, licking chocolate from the corner of her mouth. “School.”

“From who?” Lia demanded.

“Couple different people,” said Paige. “Figured it was just bullshit, though.”

I gulped at my Diet Coke, eyes watering as I recovered from my near-death experience. Lia said nothing.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Paige crumpled the candy wrapper in her fist, stood and sauntered off.

“We’re screwed,” I told Lia. She warned me to be quiet as Jake came back from the kitchen.

“What’re these?” he wondered, looking at the photographs. Lia told him while I dug his candy and soda out of the Eckerd’s bag and passed them to him. He seemed to be in a relatively good mood, crunching M&M’s while he looked at the photos, and reminiscing about a particularly rowdy Ghostly Images show he’d been to his senior year. He was mid-story when Clyde 2 yowled from the hallway,
Paige cried out, and a thud sounded.

“Clyde!” Lia sprang to her feet and sprinted for the hall. Jake and I followed and found her standing over Paige, who was sprawled out on the carpet just outside the bathroom, propped up on one elbow.

“What happened?” I asked as Jake knelt beside her.

“The cat,” she said, gesturing at her left foot, “ran out in front of me when I opened the bathroom door.”

“You didn’t step on him, did you?” Lia’s voice was shrill.

“
No
, I didn’t step on him,” Paige scowled. “I lost my balance trying to get out of his way.”

“Why’d he make that noise?”

“Guess I scared him...” Before Paige could finish, Lia’d leapt over her prostrate form and gone in search of the cat.

“Are you hurt?” I asked Paige.

“I just stepped wrong,” she grimaced. She looked like she’d try to stand but Jake put a hand on her shoulder, preventing her.

“Don’t,” he said and drew her arm around his neck. Before she could protest, he scooped her up and carried her back to the living room, where I saw him deposit her lightly onto the couch.

“Do you mind?” he asked, already untying her left shoe lace.

“What?” Paige bit her lip. Oh my God, was she actually blushing?

He slipped off her sneaker and pushed up the leg of her jeans. She wasn’t wearing socks and now her bare foot was in his hands. The toes were perfectly pedicured, lacquered a glossy dark red. But, I thought with satisfaction, for someone so short she had pretty big feet.

“What’re you doing?” She covered her mouth, giggling. “What’s he doing, Montez?” She looked helplessly at me.

“I think you’re tickling her,” I told him. He mumbled an apology but continued probing her ankle.

“You might have a sprain,” I told her. “Just let him look. He’s pre-med,” I added by way of explanation.

“A sprain?” She’d thought it was called a “strain,” she told me, struggling to contain her laughter. Her blush deepened.

“Two different things,” Jake explained, gently manipulating her foot. “A sprain is damage to the ligaments. A strain means damage to the tendons. Does this hurt?”

“No.” Paige shook her head. “Ligaments?”

“Connective tissue,” he said, “that connect bone to bone. A tendon connects muscle to bone.” Strains, he said, were more commonly associated with overuse or sports injuries. Sprains were typically caused by the type of fall she’d just taken.

Paige seemed completely fascinated by this information. She wanted to know the diagnosis.

“A mild sprain,” he said. At least he thought so. “But you might want to have a doctor check it out to be safe.”

“Nah,” she said. She’d been holding herself up on her elbows so she could watch him and what he was doing, but now she collapsed back onto the couch cushions. “I trust you,” she told him, folding her hands over her stomach. She was still pink, her eyes all glittery.

Oh, please
, I thought.

“Nic,” Jake said. “There’s an ACE bandage in the medicine cabinet. Would you mind getting it?”

I went to find it. In the hallway, I ran into Lia, who was fighting to kiss and cuddle a reluctant Clyde 2. As I approached, the cat squirmed free and shot around a corner.

“Oh, God,” she said, eyeing the bandage in my hand. “She’s not gonna sue my parents is she?”

“Doubt it,” I said. “She seems pretty content.” Without explaining, I went back into the living room, Lia trailing behind me. Jake had gone into the kitchen to get an ice pack and returned at almost the same time. He sat on the couch with Paige, pulling her legs into his lap. When I gave him the bandage, he set to work winding it around her ankle.

“How’s Clyde?” Jake asked his sister as she dropped into the armchair.

“Why? You know cat first aid, too?”

“Sorry I scared your cat,” Paige told Lia. “He came out of nowhere.”

“That cat’s a hardened menace,” Jake assured her. “Nothing could scare him.” He’d finished bandaging her and now patted the hooks holding the ACE in position. She looked disappointed when he shifted her legs off his lap and stood up.

“Elevate your ankle for a while. And hold this to it.” He handed her the ice pack. “I’ll get you some aspirin. It’ll head off any swelling.” He disappeared down the hall.

Paige did as he’d instructed, sitting up and putting a couch cushion under her ankle and bending forward to reach it with the ice.

“You gonna be okay?” Lia asked her, not really sounding like she cared.

“Mm-hm. Your brother’s really smart, you know,” said Paige, dreamily.

“Yes, I know,” said Lia. “Can we please rehearse now?”

***

W
e waited while Paige took her aspirin and iced her ankle for a bit. When she finally stood, she seemed all better, bouncing lightly up and down on the foot to test it before putting her shoe back on.

Rehearsal, when we finally got around to it, was an ordeal. It was the first time the whole band had practiced together and we struggled to find our collective rhythm. I fought to keep up with everyone else and quickly started to resent what felt like their constant coaching and advice.

By the time we called it a night, I was exhausted and irritable. Watching Paige kiss Jake on the cheek and thank him again before she left didn’t make me feel any better. I told Lia I didn’t feel like spending the night, and asked her to take me home. I was waiting by the front door for her to get her car keys when Jake came up to me.

“You leaving?” he asked.

I nodded.

“You don’t say goodbye anymore?”

“Goodbye,” I said primly.

He looked at me for a second or two, his expression unreadable. “See you tomorrow,” he said, rapping his knuckles against the wall before walking off again. I assumed he meant at rehearsal, which I now didn’t look forward to at all.

***

M
onday morning I was running even later than usual when I heard gravel crunch in the driveway. Muttering a curse and pulling a comb through my wet hair, I kneeled across the bed to peek out the window. I’d expected to see Lia waiting impatiently behind the steering wheel of her Dart. Instead I saw Jake cutting his van’s engine. I let the curtain fall back and stood, bringing my hand to my mouth. What was he doing here?

I knew I should move, finish getting ready, but I stood paralyzed, listening to the van door opening and closing, Jake’s steps carrying him across the lawn and up the stairs to my front door. I heard him knock and my mother walk out of the kitchen, high heels clicking across the living room. I heard the screen door creak open and their muffled voices, imagining what they must be saying to one another:

“Jake?”

“Ms. Montez. Hi. You remember me.”

“Of course. Veronica said you were back in town. How are you?”

She’d invite him in, of course. He’d stand in the living room while my mother came and knocked on my door...

Though I’d anticipated it, the knock startled me and I jumped. “Pumpkin? Your ride’s here.” She sounded both curious and amused. I assumed she’d grill and probably tease me about this situation later, but for now she had to leave for work.

I managed to call out that I’d “be right there.” Then I listened to her steps retreat, heard the front door open and close again as she left.

Cursing again, I forced myself to move. I tossed the comb, not caring where it landed, and dug frantically through the clutter on my desk for a rubber band. I hastily slicked my hair into a pony tail, tugged at my shirt to straighten it a little, and went out the door.

Jake stood in the living room just as I’d envisioned, his thumbs hooked in his pockets as he gazed around the room at my mother’s framed photographs and knick-knacks. “Hey, Nic,” he said.

“Hey,” I said, out of breath. “Where’s Lia?”

“Probably at school by now.” He glanced at the clock.  “Seeing as how first period starts in about five minutes.”

“Crap,” I said. “Be right back.” I rushed back to my room and slung my book bag over my shoulder, then took a detour into the kitchen to pick up my lunch before hurrying back to the living room.

Jake waited patiently on the porch while I fumbled with the house key and locked the front door. He held the van’s passenger door open while I clambered clumsily up into the seat.

“Buckle up,” he told me when he’d taken his place behind the wheel. When I didn’t move, he reached across my lap and fastened the seat belt for me.