The Right and the Real (17 page)

My laughter burst out, but then a horn blared behind me. I looked in the mirror and saw a bus descending on my bumper. “Gotta go,” I said. LaVon slammed the door, and I peeled out. In my rearview mirror I saw him walking slowly toward the curb, ignoring the honking bus driver.

Fifty-one,
I thought. If I’d had to put money on it, I would’ve said LaVon wasn’t a day over forty. For some reason, the idea of him being a dad and a grandfather made me really happy. Some of the fear I’d had of him diminished too, in spite of his record. I looped around the block and crossed the freeway, heading for the motel. The only home I had anymore. I hoped LaVon was right about my dad.

AS SOON AS I GOT TO SCHOOL ON WEDNESDAY,
I tried to get Josh alone to find out what he knew about my dad, but every time I saw him, he was with Derrick. The whole secret relationship thing was not working for me anymore. Scholarship or not, we really needed to talk.

That night, I got the brilliant idea of texting him from LaVon’s phone. His dad wouldn’t recognize the number, and as long as I kept it casual, he’d probably think it was one of Josh’s football buddies. I’d told Josh I was working at the café, so my text said
DUDE! meet at coffee klatch after school 2morrow.

As long as his brother didn’t see it and think it was from one of their friends, Josh would be able to meet me there while Derrick was at wrestling.

Thursday morning, while I was changing the mop water, Trent filled my mug with whipped cream and when I took a drink, I got it all over my nose. I was busy trying to put some on his laughing face when I heard my name.

“Jamie?”

I stopped, one hand holding on to Trent’s shoulder, the other in the air, reaching for his face. “Josh! Oh, hi,” I said. I let Trent go and washed my hands in the sink. “Can I take my break?” I asked him.

“Sure.”

I noticed he made a point of looking at the clock. It was only six fifteen, and I’d punched in at five thirty. What was Josh doing here this morning anyway? I’d told him to come after school.

“I’ll be right back,” I said. “It will be a mini break.”

“Whatever,” Trent said. “Take your time.”

But he didn’t sound like he meant it. I ran around the counter and led Josh over to a table by the fireplace. “I’m working, so I only have a few minutes.”

“Yeah, really looked like you were working,” Josh said.

He scowled over at Trent, who had his back to us while he filled the cream jug. I was sure Josh saw his tattoo of the movie camera, which was not good since one of the times Josh and I had actually been talking recently, I’d mentioned I was thinking of getting a tattoo on my ankle of the comedy and tragedy masks. Josh hadn’t liked the idea much, and he’d probably like it less if he put two and two together and figured out where I’d gotten my inspiration.

“I thought you were coming this afternoon,” I said, trying to change the subject and realizing too late how bad it sounded.

“Clearly.”

“Josh, there’s nothing going on. He’s my boss.”

I wasn’t sure exactly who I was trying to convince.

“I have to go to Derrick’s meet after school,” he said. “So what’s so important?”

I stared at him, not believing he didn’t get it. “Well, I wanted
you to come then because I thought maybe we could just hang out. You know, do homework. Joke around. Like we used to.”

“Someone might see us,” Josh said.

“No one cares what we do,” I told him. “No one but you and Derrick, and he’ll be rolling around on the mat with some other heavyweight.”

That was not the right thing to say. He ran his hands over his blond flattop and glared at me. “It’s too risky,” he said.

“So why are you here, then?” I asked, starting to feel annoyed myself.

“Because I had to tell you not to text me, even from someone else’s phone. You never know who might see it, and my dad’s been threatening every day to pull us out of school. If I don’t graduate, they’ll take away my football scholarship.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m well aware of that.”

He got up to leave.

“Josh, please,” I said, running after him. Luckily the café was empty, but I had the feeling Trent was watching, and I lowered my voice. “Fine. Don’t hang out with me. But I need to know where my dad is. His house is for sale, and they’ve moved out.”

“You don’t have to worry about him,” he said. “They made him a disciple.”

“Really?”

“You better get back to
work,
” he said, giving Trent another dirty look before he pushed open the door and left. It swung shut behind him, the little bell tinkling cheerfully. I knew he’d gotten his feelings hurt when he saw me and Trent messing around, and even though I didn’t really enjoy being treated like a big secret, I still cared about him. I’d have to make it up to him later. At least I’d gotten an answer about my dad. The Teacher must have moved him and Mira into the compound. That was why he didn’t need his house anymore. Jesus
only had twelve disciples, and I knew the Right & the Real already had those slots filled. I guessed there was always room for a thirteenth, if he had a trust fund.

“Who was that?” Trent asked.

I knew the correct answer, but for some reason, I didn’t want to say it.

“A friend from school.”

“Didn’t seem very friendly to me,” Trent mumbled.

On Sunday morning, I gathered up the pile of cash I’d counted out on my bed and took it downstairs to pay my rent. I was already regretting last night’s splurge with Krista and Liz. The thing was, I couldn’t avoid doing stuff with them entirely, or they’d start to get suspicious.

“We thought maybe you didn’t like us anymore, chickie,” Krista said, when I picked them up at her house.

“You’re my best girls,” I told them.

“Do you think a stranger would buy us being best friends?” Liz asked, eyeing the three of us and giggling. As usual, Liz had worn black, and her hair was up in her ballet bun. All I could manage was a clean pair of jeans, my pink cashmere sweater, and high-heeled boots. Krista sparkled with glitter makeup and a ruffled gold lamé skirt, sequined high-top tennis shoes, and a silky blouse with a plunging neckline.

“Unlikely,” Krista said. “Liz looks like she should be going to Carnegie Hall, Jamie is off to meet her doctor fiancé at the country club, and I’m planning to dance the night away.”

We hadn’t done any of those things, though. We’d seen a movie and eaten a pizza, and this morning I was acutely feeling the loss of the twenty dollars I’d spent.

A girl I knew vaguely from the laundry room was at the counter talking to Stub when I got to the lobby. Vanessa was only nineteen, but she already had a toddler, and a distinct baby bump showed under her too-short T-shirt. Her boyfriend was in jail, serving three months for resisting arrest. I didn’t even want to know why he was being arrested at the time. She’d divulged all this information in the first two minutes we’d met, and so usually I tried to avoid her in case she had more depressing things to tell me.

“Come on, Stub,” Vanessa said. “You can’t do this.”

“Rent is due by eleven o’clock on Sunday morning. If you can’t pay, you have to move out.”

“But I’ve been here for five months,” Vanessa said. “You know I’m good for it.”

Stub pointed to the sign that said exactly what he’d just told her. I couldn’t believe she’d lived here for five months. This was only my third week, and I was already so depressed by the idea of handing over more money for rent, I could barely stand it.

Vanessa’s little girl, Ruby, was sitting on the floor by the dead plant, playing in the dirt. All she had on was a disposable diaper, and it was pretty obvious it needed to be changed. I waved at her and made silly faces because I didn’t know where else to look.

Vanessa saw me, and the smile she gave me was way too familiar. I’d seen my mother give people that look every time she was about to ask for a favor. I knew what was coming.

“Hey, Jamie,” she said. “How you doing?”

“Oh, fine,” I said, keeping my eyes on Ruby.

“So…LaVon said you got a job.”

“I just started,” I said. “I’ve only worked there one week.”

“I’m a little short on rent this week,” she said.

“Really? Wow. That’s ummm…too bad.”

Crap. What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t afford to float Vanessa and Ruby. From now on, I was going to stay clear of the lobby as much as possible.

“You wouldn’t be able to give me a teeny-weeny loan,” she said. She made her blue eyes go all round and innocent-looking. “Would you? Just until Wednesday?”

“Ummm…how much?”

Behind Vanessa, Stub shook his head vigorously at me and mouthed, “Say no!”

“A hundred bucks?”

A hundred dollars? Was she crazy? She wasn’t short, she was missing almost half of her rent. “Oh, I’m sorry…I don’t have it,” I said. I was kind of relieved she’d asked for so much because I really couldn’t give it to her. If she’d asked for twenty, I might not have been able to say no.

“Did you want to pay your rent, Jamie?” Stub asked, coming to the rescue.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

I shoved the money across the counter and ran for the stairs before she could counteroffer. A couple of hours later, I went downstairs to go to the grocery store. Vanessa was loading Ruby and half a dozen black garbage bags into a dilapidated car with a broken windshield.

I thought of my dad. Countless times we’d been walking downtown together and he would hand over a buck or two to a homeless person. Then he would put his arm around me, squeeze my shoulder, and say, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

Me too, Dad. Me too.

ON MONDAY, THE BAKER DELIVERED HEART-SHAPED
scones and sugar cookies with pink frosting and arrows across them in red.

“Get a stack of gift cards ready,” Trent told me as we set up for the day. “Because a whole bunch of guys woke up this morning and their wives and girlfriends gave them Valentine’s gifts, and they are totally screwed because they forgot. We’ll sell a ton of them.”

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Happens every year. Well, I only actually worked here last year, but it happened then.”

I looked around the café at all the decorations that had been up for two weeks. Pink balloons, red heart-shaped pillows added to the sofas, lacy doilies in the windows. How could anyone forget Valentine’s Day? Even though the weekend had gone by without a word from Josh, I’d bought him a box of his favorite cashew brittle, and I was going to stick it in his locker.

“Could you check the till and make sure we have enough ones?” Trent asked me.

I popped the drawer and then started laughing. Instead of money, he’d filled the whole thing with candy hearts. He was giving me a sexy grin, and his crooked tooth reminded me of the first time I’d met him and wanted to run my tongue over it. I really needed to stop thinking about that.

“Did you steal the money?” I asked.

“Nah. It’s all underneath. But I thought maybe you’d want to take your loot out before anyone comes in.”

He handed me a paper bag and helped me scoop the chalky blue, pink, and white candies into it. He held one up so I could read it.
You’re special, Valentine.

“You’re a goof,” I said.

“Yeah, pretty much,” he agreed, and then he ate the candy.

By the time we’d cleared out the drawer, it was time to open. A guy in a gray suit was standing outside texting on his phone, waiting for me to unlock the door.

“Good thing you open early,” he said. “My secretary would freak out if I didn’t bring her a latte on Valentine’s Day.”

“You better get her some truffles, too,” Trent suggested, holding up a box we’d gotten in especially for the holiday.

“You think?” the guy asked, counting his money.

“Definitely,” I said.

I pressed my mouth shut, trying not to laugh, and refused to look at Trent’s dark chocolate eyes or I knew I’d crack up. All morning the two of us suckered every guy who came in into buying extra goodies. We didn’t really care about the café making a profit. It was more about working together as a team and a way to amuse ourselves. Two hours later, when we finally got a lull, I was beat.

“Powered by caffeine,” Trent said, sucking down a shot of espresso he’d let go lukewarm.

“You and me both,” I said.

He held out a box of truffles. “Here. Happy Totally-Ruined-and-Commercialized-by-Advertisers-and-Retailers Day of Love.”

“Oh, wow. A box of truffles. How thoughtful,” I said in a fake sincere voice. “Where did you steal these from?”

“I’ll have you know,” he said, whipping a receipt out of his pocket, “I paid for those. Yesterday. On my day off. I came in just to get them. In
advance.
”

“Did you really?” I asked.

“Well”—he pushed his hair out of his eyes—“I was actually here to fix the Internet, but I did buy them for you.”

“Thanks.” I felt way more pleased about it than a girl with a boyfriend should feel. “Want one?” I asked.

“Hell, yeah, I want one,” he said, imitating LaVon. “Do I look like I’m on a diet?”

I untied the ribbon, and instead of throwing it away like I should’ve, I tucked it into my apron pocket. We demolished the four truffles while we scrubbed down the espresso machine and counters. It looked like someone had thrown a bucket of coffee over it because we’d been working too quickly to clean up much.

“So…I was thinking,” Trent said. “We should go out on a date.”

Oh, crap.

“A date?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You know…a date. I come to your house, bring flowers to your mom, shake your dad’s hand, say ‘yes sir’ when he tells me your curfew. That sort of thing.”

“Oh, I…ummm—”

“Before you say no,” Trent said, “let me elaborate. I was thinking maybe we could fly to France. Have dinner at a sidewalk café. Unless you prefer Milan.”

“Sounds lovely, but—”

“I know, I know.…You don’t have a passport, right? That’s okay. We could go for pizza and a movie instead. Boring, but a tried-and-true date. In fact, it might even be the definition of date. Or we could go roller-skating!”

“Roller-skating?” I asked. Now I was laughing.