Slow Burn (16 page)

Johnny and Dean have been stepbrothers for about two years.  While they don’t hang out a whole lot, they seem to get along well enough.  I know Johnny respects Dean, and sometimes
he even refers to him as his brother.  I wonder how Dean feels about Johnny?

“Do you think Dean’s gay?” I say abruptly to Tanya, who was staking out my locker at the end of the day.

“What?”  Laughing, she turns to me, whipping me in the mouth with her sentient curls.

Picking strands out of my lip gloss
, I reply, “Well, you said he never dates…?”

“He doesn’t—he hooks up.”  Tanya waggles her heav
y eyebrows.  “And only with older girls—women, actually.  And I hear he’s really selective about who he chooses.  He’s not a man-whore like Johnny—oops, sorry!  Total fail on my part.”

I wave away her comment, and pretend to be intent on closing my locker door.  “Doesn’t matter.  We’re not together anymore.”

“Really, ‘cause someone should tell Johnny that.”

“Believe me, I’m trying.”
  I roll my eyes.

“Whatever.  I wish I had your problems.  Are you going to the dance tonight?”

“No, I work.”  I start to head toward the doors.

Tanya trails after me.  “So, about my friend, Bobo…”

******

Chapter 11

I should creep right back out the front door when I hear Michelle and Derek fighting, but I’ve never heard them like this before.
  I’ve never heard Uncle Derek sound this mad, and Michelle is crying.

It’s that last thing that has me bursting into the living room, unannounced.

“I did it!” I say before taking in the scene.  “I sent it to her.”

Michelle and Derek are standing in front of their brown suede couch, both rigid with tension.  Derek is holding a white box in one hand, and Michelle is standing in front of him, tears streaming down her face.  They both turn to stare at me.

“Juliet…what are you doing here?”  Derek shakes his head, both confused and frustrated.

“I, uh, knocked.  I couldn’t help but overhear.”  I clear my throat nervously.  “
Um, Uncle Derek? I sent Michelle a gift as a thank you for helping me with…some stuff I was going through.  Break up stuff, you know?”

Derek arches a blonde eyebrow at me.  “
You sent your aunt lingerie as a thank you gift?”

He pulls something red,
lacy, and silky from the box, dangling it in the air for emphasis.

My eyes grow huge and my mouth drops open.  I don’t dare look at Michelle, who has grown deathly silent.

Quickly recovering, I replace my shocked look with a bland one.  “Oh, yeah.  It’s a girl thing, you know?  She had mentioned she wanted to spice things up in the bedroom…”  I trail off with an uncomfortable chuckle.  Michelle whimpers very quietly, letting me know I’ve just digging a deeper hole for the both of us.

“I suppose you sent her this note, too?”

Note?  Oh, shit. 

Derek is holding a square piece of paper in his meaty hand.  “’I can’t wait to see this on you,’” he reads from it.

I can’t even look at them.  I run my fingers along the seam of the couch, speaking in a tiny voice.  “Is that not appropriate?”

There is a brutal silence, then an explosive exhalation. 

“I’m outta here,” Uncle Derek mutters.  He storms away.

Only when I hear the front door slam do I dare look at my aunt.  She’s frozen to the spot, staring at me in disbelief.

“I’m sorry!” I blurt out.  “I was only trying to help!”

Michelle closes her eyes, shoulders slumping.  “I just about had him convinced it was from Yanni.”

“Oh.”  I bite my lip.  “Yeah, that would have made more sense.  Sorry.”

Michelle opens her eyes again.  “Not your fault,” she says wearily, dropping onto the couch.

Tentatively, I come around and sit next to her.  “So, who’s it really from?”

She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and just when I think she’s not going to answer me, she starts talking.

“There’s this new guy at work.  He’s really cute, and funny—and he’s been flirting with me a lot.  At first, I just joked around with him—you know, teased him back…silly harmless stuff.  Then we got to talking, and he’s—he’s really great.  We seem to have a lot in common, and he really listens to me, you know?  Things just got out of hand.”

I stare at her, dread filling my stomach.  “You didn’t…
?”

“Oh—no!  I swear to God, I d
idn’t let it get that far.  Shit.”  She plants her face in her hands.  “I didn’t even know he had my address!”

“Well, what was he thinking, sending it here?”

Michelle’s reply is muffled and incomprehensible.

“What?” I say.

She briefly lifts her head up.  “He doesn’t know I’m married,” she confesses, before dropping her face back into her hands.

“Oh, Michelle,” I groan.  She
is so pathetic that I try to rub her back comfortingly.  “At least you haven’t done anything yet.  Right?”

“I’m not talki
ng about this with my niece,” she mumbles.

“Why not?  I’m old enough to know that these things happen, and I know the difference between right and wrong.
  Just talk to Uncle Derek, tell him the truth.  It will all work out.”

Michelle drops her hands from her face.  Her expression is bleak.  “It’s not that simple,” she says quietly.

“It could be,” I say stubbornly.

She offers me a small smile, reaching over to squeeze my hand.  “Honey, I’m sorry.  I’m not feeling up to hanging out today.  Why don’t you head back to your dad’s, and I’ll give you a call later tonight.  Okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

We hug, hard and fast, then I r
eluctantly leave Michelle to her tears.  I drive back to my dad’s apartment, worry making my stomach churn.

I know it isn’t my place
, but I can’t help but feel disappointed in Michelle.  She’s always been there for me with great advice, or a shoulder to cry on, and I—it’s a strange feeling to realize someone you look up to isn’t perfect, and has weaknesses of her own.  Difficulties in her own life that she might not be able to get through.

It’s just depressing.  I hate to see them fighting, especially over something like this.  While Michelle claimed to have not cheated on her husband,
it certainly seems to be heading that way.  What the hell’s with all the cheating?  Is it for the drama?  Why do we love the drama so much?

I can’t think clearly about Michelle’s situation, not without unfairly judging her due to my own
cheating experience.  It’s none of my business, anyway.  Sucks, though.

I don’t feel like staying here.  I go back to Dad’s and fake a headache, asking if it’s o
kay if I go back early.  The look of relief on his face kinda hurts.  I wish I had a whipped cream pie so I could throw it at him.

Screw this.  I need Heather, and I need ice cream.

“Jule!” 
Heather clutches my arm in a near panic.  “Pretend that we’re together, okay?”

We’re standing in line at Boppy’s, waiting for our turn to order delicious ice cream.  It hasn’t moved since
that skinny guy with the pink shirt got to the counter. 

“We are together,” I say to my suddenly nervous friend.

“No, I mean like
together
,” she emphasizes, anxiously looking at something over my shoulder.  The she starts rapid-fire whispering at me.  “Don’t look right now, but there’s a tall girl with braids coming our way.  I hooked up with her at the college party I went to with Ethan last week, and she’s been calling and texting me non-stop since.  Which would be fine, because—no, don’t turn around!  She’s hot and really fun to be with—but she has a boyfriend, and she keeps pushing for a threesome.”

I frown at her.  “You never told me you hooked up with anyone at that party.”

Heather smiles sheepishly, tossing back her long hair.  “I was drunk.  I didn’t want you kicking my ass about it.  But, please, just pretend that you’re my girlfriend, okay?  I don’t want this to get awkward.”

“Already there,”
I mutter as a very tall dark-haired girl approaches us.

Heather
quickly puts an arm around my waist, and gives the girl a big cheesy grin.  “Hey, Dawn!  How’s it going?”

“Hey,
Heather.”  The girl—Dawn—smiles, but there’s a question in her eyes.  “It’s funny that I should run into you.  I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a while.”

“Yeah, sorry.  I’ve been really busy with my girl, here.” 
Heather giggles and gives me a quick painful squeeze.  “Oh, Dawn, this is my girlfriend, Juliet.  Juliet, I met Dawn at a party I went to just before I met you.”

I clear my throat, and nod at the other girl.  “’Sup?”

“Hi.”  Dawn looks at me curiously.  “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Heather.”

“Oh, well, it’s a
very recent thing.  True love at first sight.”  She presses her cheek against mine.

“
Yup.”  I try to look super-possessive and tough.  “We can’t keep our hands off each other.”

The guys standing in front of us immediately turn around
, eyes wide and smiles perverted.  I want to kick them.  Isn’t that what an angry lesbian would do?

Dawn looks confused, and a little put out, but she speaks graciously.  “That’s great.  Good luck to you both. 
Uh, it was nice seeing you again, Heather.”

Heather
waits until she’s out of sight to whirl on me.  “What the hell was that?” she hisses.

“What was what?  Is this line ever going to move?” I mumble distractedly.

“That!  That six-pack-a-day-gangster-lesbian voice?”  She points at me accusingly.

“Oh,” I say gruffly.  Then in a normal tone of voice:  “Sorry.  I didn’t know if I should be the butch or the bitch, so I went with what sounded more fun.
  You know, we’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes, and this line hasn’t moved an inch.  Let’s just go to the one on Turner.”

“
Fine, but only if you promise not to yell at me about Dawn.  Let’s go, stud.”

I stifle a sigh as I follow her out of the f
ood court.  I would like to scold her for her careless behavior, but Heather tends to shut down whenever I bring up her drinking and casual hookups.  I used to resort to leaving pamphlets in her purse, and whispering things like “gonorrhea” and “crabs” in her ear when she’d start to flirt with some random girl.  The result was that she left me at home, and didn’t tell me about any parties she went to.

I don’t know what to do about her.  I’ve already started refusing to be her cover, and I’m seriously considering ratting her out to her parents.  Yeah, she’d never talk to me again, but at least she’d be safe.

“Oh, my god,” Heather says under her breath, bringing me out of my dark musings.

“What?  Is she back?” I murmur, ready to put my arm around her shoulders.

She shakes me off, talking out of the corner of her mouth.  “Don’t look, but that girl heading toward us—she’s absolutely beautiful!”

There is actual awe in her voice.  I don’t kn
ow why she tells me not to look since I always do.  I stare right at the girl ahead of us.  She’s standing outside of Gadgets, a kitchen appliance store, and looking down at the phone in her hand.

She is beautiful, with her glossy black hair and exquisite features.  “That’s Sloane
Suzuki,” I whisper to Heather.

Her brow furrows.  “Who?  Oh—o
ne of the sea harpies?”

“Yeah.  The not-so-bitchy one.  Sloane!”
  I shout before Heather can stop me.

Sloane
glances up, not looking very pleased to see me walking toward her.  Hi,” she says briefly, then goes back to staring her phone.  Heather continues to gape at her.

“This is my friend, Heather,” I say, yanking on her arm and pulling her right in front of Sloane.

“Hi-lo!” Heather says goofily, and snorts a laugh.  She looks at me, horrified, and claps a hand over her mouth.

I focus on the other girl
, refusing to let my lips so much as twitch.  “So, Sloane.  Did you go to the dance last night?” I ask, just to make conversation so I don’t burst out laughing.

“I don’t
really do school dances,” she replies vaguely.

“
Oh.  Well, we were just going to get ice cream—do you want to join us?”  I get right to it, ignoring Heather’s quick intake of breath.

Sloane forces a polite smile to her face.  “No, thanks, I’m meeting someone in a few minutes.  Some other time, maybe.”

“Sure.  See you in school Monday.”

Heather grabs my arm, and starts dragging me out the exit