Paper Cuts (16 page)

It’s my mother, standing in the doorway in her pajamas.

‘I don’t have one,’ I say. ‘Thanks to Grace.’

‘Can we discuss this tomorrow?’ Mom asks. ‘You’ll wake Keira.’

‘Yeah,’ Grace says. ‘You’ll wake Keira.’

‘And, Lu,’ Mom continues, ‘that singer called. Solana? She says she’ll meet with you.’

The news is so exciting that Grace actually squeals – a sound I haven’t heard since before her first tattoo.

Rachel gives my hand a squeeze as we walk toward Letizia’s Bakery. ‘Thanks for letting Izzy and me tag along,’ she says.

‘You’re doing me a favor,’ I say. ‘It’s nice to have some moral support.’

‘I’m surprised Grace didn’t insist on coming.’

‘She wanted to, but she has to work.’

‘Huh,’ Rachel says. ‘I guess she has changed a lot lately. The old Grace would have made you work her shift and met Solana
for
you.’

‘Tell me about it,’ I say. ‘I haven’t had to cover for her at the diner in weeks – or even babysit. Still, it’s not like she’s completely lost her edge.’ I spot the sign for Letizia’s. ‘Wish I had a bit of it right now.’

‘You’re worrying too much,’ Rachel says. ‘I’m sure Solana’s friendly. Otherwise, why would she agree to meet you?’

‘She didn’t sound that nice on the phone. I bet her agent made her do it.’

Stepping inside, we scan the small café for Izzy, not quite sure what to look for, since she planned to update her hair color for the occasion.

The room is cozy, with its wooden tables and exposed brick wall, but it’s not the kind of place I expected. Since Solana says she comes here all the time, I thought it would be trendier.

We have nearly an hour before Solana is due to arrive, so Rachel and I choose a table near the back of the cafe and order a pizza.

‘I hope Izzy managed to get the new
Bulletin
,’ I say.

‘I don’t see why Sparling won’t just give you an advance copy,’ Rachel says.

‘He wants me to “experience” Scoop’s column like everyone else. But I’m the only one whose weekend is ruined because of it. Especially now that I know Tyler is behind the byline.’

‘You don’t know that for sure,’ Rachel says.

After initially accepting the evidence I found on Tyler’s computer, Rachel lapsed into denial. I love that she tries to see the best in people, but how she can ignore the cold hard facts is beyond me.

‘I saw the proof with my own eyes, Rach. And I’m glad I did. Now I don’t have to waste another second thinking of Tyler as my FB.’

Rachel studies me for a long moment and then performs one of those best friend mind-reading feats. ‘He called you, didn’t he?’

There’s no point in protesting since she can read me like an open book.

‘You didn’t even call him back, did you?’ Now her tone is accusing. ‘Lu, that’s so mean.’

‘Do you even need me in this conversation?’ I ask, hoping she won’t pick up on the fact that there’s more. Tyler e-mailed a couple of times, too. ‘He didn’t return my call last month, remember? Besides, it’s only Friday. I could still call him.’ But I won’t. That door is closed, locked, and bolted.

Rachel seems more upset about this than she should be, so I do a little mind reading of my own. ‘Did something happen with Jason?’

Her eyes well up instantly. ‘We broke up. I didn’t want to say anything until after your meeting.’ She describes how her parents ambushed Jason last night when he dropped her off. ‘They totally flipped out, and they won’t let me see him again.’

‘Did you tell them about the Jewish blood?’

She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. ‘It wasn’t good enough. Still, if it were just that, I’d find a way to keep seeing him. We’ve managed this long. But Jason’s mad at me, too.’

‘Why? It’s not your fault.’

‘I didn’t tell him the truth about my parents, so it hit him like a tornado. And you know what? He just stood there. He didn’t say anything to them.’

‘Did you?’

She nods, a faint grin appearing on her lips. ‘Enough that I lost my cell phone and computer privileges for a month. But that was after Jason left. I didn’t say much in front of him
because we were all standing in the street, and the neighbors already think my parents are weird.’

‘Have you called him?’

Rachel nods. ‘From a pay phone this morning. He said he loved me but he can’t deal with lies and bigotry. And then he broke up with me.’

I seize on the most important point. ‘He said he loves you? That’s fantastic!’ Rachel is the first person in our group to hear those words from a guy. It’s a landmark.

‘
Loved
.’ She scrapes her arm over her eyes again. ‘Past tense.’

We notice Izzy, newly blond, standing in the doorway.

Rachel excuses herself to freshen up before Solana arrives. Izzy stares after her, asking, ‘Is Rach all right?’

I tell her the story and suggest we do something special later to help her get over the breakup – another landmark.

‘Guys,’ Izzy says, exasperated. ‘Life was easier when none of us dated.’ She tosses the
Bulletin
to me. ‘Would you believe I had to stop at Warwick Central to pick this up? There wasn’t a single copy left at Dunfield.’

‘Wow, enemy territory,’ I say. ‘That’s going above and beyond.’

Rachel emerges from the washroom composed, and asks me to read the column aloud to distract her from her troubles.

 ‘Oh my God, he’s an idiot,’ I say. ‘I can’t believe I let him kiss me.’

‘Famous last words,’ someone says.

We look up to see Solana G. standing beside our table. She’s smaller than she looks on her video, but prettier. With her dark hair in a ponytail and very little makeup, she could be anyone. Only the treble clef tattoo on her neck hints at her occupation.

I stand and offer my hand. ‘Hello, Ms Gomez, I’m Luisa
Perez, columnist for the
Dunfield Bulletin
. Thank you for meeting with me today.’

I expect her to tell me to call her Solana, but she doesn’t.

Obviously I was right to adopt a mature and professional manner. Real journalists do not gush like groupies. Better to impress her with my composure.

Taking the seat opposite me, Solana nods at Izzy and Rachel as I introduce them. They smile at her, wordlessly, having been briefed in advance about my mature and professional strategy. They’re so worried about saying the wrong thing that they’re nearly paralyzed.

Solana’s dark eyes lock on mine. ‘So, what can I do for you?’

I’d planned to lob some getting-to-know-you questions before hitting her up with the literacy pitch, but I’ll follow her lead. ‘Dunfield is in the top three in the citywide literacy fundraising competition. The winner is going to be chosen at a gala in December, and I was hoping you’d appear on behalf of Dunfield.’

Her eyes scan the café continuously as I’m talking and return to me when I stop. ‘Why me?’

I thought that was obvious. ‘Because of your connection with Dunfield?’

‘More like a
dis
connection. You know they kicked me out?’

‘Everything I read said you
dropped
out.’

‘Promotional materials give things a positive spin. I got the boot.’

‘From Mrs Alvarez?’ I ask, noticing that my voice doesn’t sound calm and professional anymore. Rachel and Izzy exchange nervous glances.

‘Mr Monteiro,’ she says.

He reigned before my time, but I heard he was uptight, even by Buzzkill’s standards. ‘Why?’ I ask.

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. ‘Attendance, mainly. I had better things to do than show up at Dunfield. I hated that dump. In fact, if the school burned down, I’d throw a barbeque.’

This is awful. If she feels this way, why did she agree to see me today? ‘So you won’t come to the gala?’ The professionalism is totally gone now. I sound desperate. Mr Sparling will be so disappointed if I blow this opportunity.

The waiter arrives with a pot of tea for Solana. For him she smiles, but it fades as she turns back to me. ‘I may not like Dumpfield, but I believe in literacy programs.’

Relief surges through me. ‘That’s great. We’ve raised more than a hundred thousand dollars already, and we still have a month to go.’

‘But how are they going to use the money?’

It’s a good question, and I don’t really know the answer. I’ve been so caught up in the competition that I haven’t worried about what comes afterward. ‘I guess it’ll go to tutoring.’

Solana waits a few moments before responding. ‘If you can convince me that this money will be spent on programs that actually work, count me in. But if Dunfield is going
to hire a couple of tutors and blow the rest of the cash on varsity sports, I’m out.’

‘I’ll look into it right away and get back to you, Ms Gomez,’ I say.

She pours her tea in silence, and I notice when her sleeve rides up that she has as many tattoos as Grace, only hers all have a musical theme. It gives me an idea. ‘If you do the gala—’ I begin.

‘A big if,’ she says, stirring her tea.

‘—there’s a song I hope you’ll sing. I’ve listened to it over and over, and it’s so different from everything else on your CD. It’s beautiful, but also really sad.’

‘Which one?’ It may be my imagination, but her voice sounds slightly warmer.

‘It’s called “Exiled”. The liner notes said you write your own lyrics, and I was wondering what inspired the song.’

Solana sips her tea before answering. ‘Dumpfield, actually. I felt like I didn’t belong there.’

Izzy finds her voice at last. ‘We felt like that too.’

Solana gives her a withering glance. ‘I wasn’t like you guys. I wasn’t popular.’ She looks us over. We’ve all worn our best in an effort to impress her, but it’s clearly had the opposite effect.

‘You think we’re popular?’ I ask in disbelief.

‘I read the columns you sent,’ she says. ‘They’re all about dances and parties and dating. That’s not how it was for me at Dunfield.’

I turn to Rachel. ‘How many dances or parties did we go to last year?’

Rachel joins her thumb and index finger to form a zero.

Turning to Izzy, I ask, ‘And how many dates did we have last year – collectively?’

Izzy repeats the zero sign and adds, ‘If it weren’t for having to go to the fundraisers, it would probably still be that way. The column changed everything.’

‘Okay,’ Solana says, and now there’s a definite thaw. ‘I got the wrong impression.’

‘You had to be cooler than we are,’ I say. ‘You had music.’

‘I also had a learning disability,’ she says. ‘
Have
a learning disability. You don’t outgrow it, you just learn to deal with it.’

‘Is that how you know which programs work?’

She nods. ‘You can’t just throw money at the problem. I found the right one, and I’ll be getting my diploma soon.’

‘That’s great.’ I’m careful not to overdo the enthusiasm, because it always rubs Grace the wrong way. ‘And I’m sure Mrs Alvarez would be glad to talk to you about programs. Mr Sparling, too. I think they really care about literacy.’

‘If they want my advice now, that’s cool, but no one listened to me when I was there. Dumpfield needs to get its act together so that other kids don’t go through that.’