If I Tell Page 11

  “That’s cool. I mean, that you write songs. I’m quite the singer myself.” He grinned at me and I smiled. He sang while we were working at the coffee shop. His voice wasn’t bad but he always goofed around, exaggerating high notes and wiggling his hips.

  “That song sounded kind of sad. Don’t tell me…let me guess. It’s about your one true love?” He grinned like a kid eager to share a silly knock-knock joke.

  I stuck out my tongue. “If I ever write a song about true love, please shoot me.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because it doesn’t exist.”

  Jackson tilted his head. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

  “I’ve never seen it.” I’d thought my mom and Simon were in love like that. But look what he’d done to her. And true, Grandpa Joe and Grandma had been married for a million years, but it’s not like they were big on public displays of affection. Never mind that demonstrations of passion from my grandparents would have grossed me out anyhow. I couldn’t remember ever seeing them kiss or hold hands. Grandma was very proper.

  “Maybe you will. One day. Maybe it will even happen to you.”

  I studied the lawn to cover up the flutters in my belly, then picked a blade of grass and stuck it in the corner of my mouth the way he was doing. “My song isn’t about love. Kind of the opposite, really. It’s more about a secret that could destroy love, actually. A secret that can never be told.”

  He tilted his head. “Intriguing. Is it based on fact?”

  I shrugged, excited to share a tiny bit of what I’d been holding inside for months. “I have to protect someone else.”

  He curled up his lip in a sexy half grin, tugging on the grass hanging out of the corner of his mouth. “You know, Jaz. I told you I’m good at keeping secrets if you need to talk. I have a few of my own. We could do a swap. Kind of like exchanging blood. Only less painful. And more sanitary.”

  I wanted to know his secrets so badly that I bit the blade in half to keep from asking. I tasted grass and spit it out and then shook my head.

  “Well, keep it in mind. The deal stands.” He sat up straighter. “You working tonight?”

  “Nope.” I tried not to show disappointment at the topic change. I wanted to know more about what he hid from the world. Like maybe his dealing? I wanted to ask him if he still did it. I wanted to tell him to stop. That it worried me.

  “Too bad,” he said.

  My heart pattered a little more. I studied his features. His slightly crooked, thin nose. I wondered if he’d broken it. Maybe at juvie? I didn’t want him to go back there or, worse, to jail.

  “I don’t work Wednesdays,” I told him instead of begging him to stay out of trouble. “My grandma signed me up to do volunteer work.”

  “That right?”

  I nodded.

  “I totally see you as the volunteer type. Candy striper? Short little skirt with extra-high heels?” He grinned at the preposterous image.

  I burst out laughing. “Not quite.”

  “So what are you doing then? Feeding the hungry? Saving the environment?”

  “Jaz?” A voice interrupted us.

  We both turned. Ashley stood close by. She was staring down at us, her eyebrows raised slightly. I’d been so wrapped up in my conversation with Jackson that I hadn’t even heard her approach.

  She smiled. Today her hair tips were dyed neon yellow. She adjusted her glasses and lifted her hand in greeting.

  “Hey, Ashley,” I said. “You know Jackson, right?”

  Ashley lifted her hand again. “I know who he is, but we don’t have classes together. We’ve never officially met. You work with Jaz, right?”

  “You mean she doesn’t talk about me? I’m crushed.” Jackson grinned at her playfully. “So you’re the famous lesbian of the school.”

  “And you’re the juvenile delinquent,” Ashley shot back.

  “Touché,” he said and tilted an invisible hat.

  I stood, wiping grass from my butt. “I can’t believe you two haven’t met before.”

  “I don’t take women’s studies.” Jackson grabbed my hand and used it to pull himself up.

  “I don’t study criminology,” Ashley said.

  I laughed. “Come on. Let’s go inside. It’s almost time for class.” Jackson let go of my hand, and I secretly wished he’d hold it all the way inside the school.

  I hurried forward in case he’d read my thoughts, and Jackson and Ashley quickly caught up. The three of us headed toward the school as a group, with Jackson in the middle. It felt nice, like I had people.

  When we reached the front door, Jackson opened it and held it for Ashley and me. “You have classes this afternoon?” he asked.

  “Chemistry and math,” I told him.

  “I’ve got a free period,” he said. “How sweet is that?”

  “Me too,” Ashley told him. “I’d hang with you, but you don’t seem to like lesbians.” The corner of her mouth twitched up. She glanced at me, something unreadable but nice in her eyes.

  “You heard wrong. I happen to highly approve of lesbians.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

  “It’s not a spectator sport, you know.” She smacked him on the arm.

  Jackson laughed his kooky baritone laugh. I poked his other arm, trying not to notice how solid it was. I had an urge to touch it again for reference. “Jerk!”

  He bowed his head with a smile. “I jest. I’m off. See you later, ladies.” He headed off into the loud hallway and away from us. I stopped to watch him go.

  “Hey,” Ashley said, pushing her shoulder against mine. “You’re staring at the pretty boy like he’s a big old scoop of vanilla ice cream.”

  I stopped staring and smacked Ashley back. “I am not. And since when do you think boys are pretty?”

  “Um. You were so. And I’m gay, Jaz. Not blind. He’s hot. And he seems cool. I don’t know why you’ve been keeping him to yourself. I’m glad you finally introduced me.”

  “I haven’t been keeping him to myself…we just usually don’t hang out at school. And you never come to Grinds.”

  “Yeah, because I’m in the pool. And since you and Lacey had your mysterious fight, you’re never at Marnie’s anymore either.” She glanced down the hallway. “Maybe if Marnie feels comfortable, we could double-date.” She looked at me and started laughing. “Chill. I’m only teasing you. Ha. You should see your face!”

  I narrowed my eyes and gave her a dirty look, not amused.

  We came to a “T” in the hallway and Ashley pointed left. “I’m this way. You want to meet on the front steps at lunch?”

  “Sure.” I waved and rushed to my own class, cheered by an unusual sense of belonging.

  ***

  I met up with Ashley at my locker, and we grabbed our lunch bags and then headed for some fresh air outside. This time of day, kids would be sprawled all over the front walk and steps, spilling onto the lawn and enjoying the break from class.

  As soon as I stepped outside, the sunlight blinded me. I breathed in cool, fresh air and heard a car horn honking. Just another car alarm going off, I assumed. I assumed wrong.

  “Jaz. Hey, Jaz,” a voice shouted over the noise.

  I lifted my hand to block the sun and tensed when I spotted the person shouting.

  “What the heck is he doing here?”

  “Hey. That’s Simon,” Ashley said, noticing him at the same time.

  “No kidding.” I swore under my breath and snarled. “What does he want?”

  Simon waved his arms in the air and jumped up and down on the other side of the road.

  “Hey, Jaz! Jaz,” he shouted.

  He seemed reluctant to cross the sidewalk separating the school yard from the road, even though in jeans and a T-shirt and hoodie he barely looked older than most of the high-school kids. I wanted to yell at him to get away from the school. Get away from me.

  People stared, watching him and then me. I spotted Tina and her clones a few feet away. T
ina was standing and looking around as if she was waiting for someone.

  “Another new boyfriend?” Tina called when she saw me.

  “It can’t be. She’s with the lesbian,” one of Tina’s groupies squealed.

  “I liked it better when they ignored me,” I said.

  Ashley raised her middle finger without looking over.

  Simon continued waving his arms. I lifted my hand to let him know I’d seen him and to stop his ridiculous gesturing. “I have to go see what he wants,” I told Ashley, even though he was the last person in the world I wanted to talk to. “Do you mind? I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

  “Uh, I guess not,” Ashley said. “Things cool between you guys now?”

  I ignored her and hurried down the sidewalk toward Simon, eager to get away from the people watching us. I hurried to cross the road, but when I reached him, I stopped.

  “What?” I demanded, frowning at his expensive designer sunglasses. Who was he trying to impress?

  He grinned. “Hey. I haven’t seen you in ages, and that’s all I get? What?”

  I clutched my lunch bag close. “What are you doing here, Simon? You’re a little too old to be hanging around my high school.”

  His sunglasses almost hid his hurt expression. Almost. He smiled again with regular voltage. “I knew you’d come outside for your lunch break. I’m on a break from work too. We’re doing a house close by, so I thought I’d pop over to see if I could take you for lunch.”

  I uncrossed my arms and lifted my brown paper bag in the air. “I brought lunch. Grandma insists I don’t waste my money.”

  He stepped toward me and took the bag out of my hand. “Throw it out. I’ll buy you something hot and greasy.”

  I glanced behind me at the school. Ashley had disappeared. “Grandma will be pissed if I throw out my lunch.”

  “Don’t tell her. You don’t need to tell her everything you do, you know.”

  I already knew Simon was good at hiding things.

  “Come on, Jaz.” He pushed the bag toward me. “Save it for later if you don’t want to throw it out. I’ll buy you McD’s.” He put an arm on my shoulder. “I’d really like to talk to you. It’s been awhile.” He squeezed my shoulder. “It’s important.”

  I wanted to say no. I pressed my lips tighter.

  “Please.”

  I grabbed my bag from his hand and wiggled my shoulder away from him.

  He pointed to his car. His stupid yellow Beetle. “Come on. I’m parked illegally.”

  We were being watched. I had a couple of choices. Make a big scene and stomp away. Or, go and deal with him in private.

  “Fine.” I strutted to the passenger door, yanked on the handle, pulled the door open, and jumped inside.

  I tossed my paper bag into the backseat as Simon climbed into the driver’s seat. He started the engine without noticing. I hoped my lunch would rot and smell up his car.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said. “I’ll make it a fast lunch and have you back in time for your next class, I promise.”

  “Whatever.” I pulled down the strap on my seat belt, buckling myself in and crossing my arms as he pulled away from the curb. Tina stared at us from the school yard as we drove away.

  He drove past the high school and turned right at the light instead of left.

  “McDonald’s is the other way,” I told him.

  “I know. I thought we’d go to the one at the mall. The one by the high school’s always so packed. Especially at noon.”

  “I have a class at one.”

  “I said I’ll have you back on time. Don’t worry.” He sounded pissed off and drove for a moment before saying anything else. “So. How’s school?” he asked, like it was an effort to be friendly.

  “It’s fine.” I reached for the volume knob on his stereo and cranked up the music, even though it was a CD of stupid hip-hop songs I couldn’t stand.

  He bobbed his head to the music, not even appreciating my intentional rudeness.

  When we got to the mall, we went to the food court. Simon pointed to an open table and told me to save us seats. He headed to a line to order for us, and I stomped to the empty table and sat waiting for him, wanting to take off and leave him all alone.

  A few minutes later he joined me, carrying a plastic tray covered with fast food.

  “Big Mac, large fries, large Coke?” he said, unloading the food from the tray. My standard order.

  “You should have asked before you ordered for me,” I snapped, just to be disagreeable.

  “Oh.” He looked upset. “Sorry. I just assumed since that’s what you always get. I got a Chicken Grill. You can have mine if you want.”

  My fingers reached for the burger. “It’s okay,” I mumbled, feeling silly. “I don’t want to wreck your diet. I know older guys like you need to watch what they eat.”

  He eyeballed his chicken sandwich and unwrapped it, ignoring my dig. “So, I’m worried about your mom. I thought you might be able to help.”

  The burger that hovered in my hand, poised for a bite, lost all its appeal. I dropped it in the wrapper on my tray. My appetite vanished for good.

  “Why are you worried about my mom?”

  His eyebrows pressed together, and apprehension radiated from his dark skin. I had a vivid image of him pressing up against Lacey and wanted to reach across the table to smack him. Hard. To leave an imprint on that skin.

  “She’s. Well, she’s acting really…” He struggled for a word. “Odd.”

  “She’s really pregnant,” I said. Did he really need to be reminded?

  “I know. But it’s more than that. I don’t know what to do. She doesn’t seem happy with me. With anything, really. And she’s angry. Really angry. All the time. Man, I wish my mom was alive. I’d ask her these questions.”

  I wished Simon’s mom was still alive too. Stupid cancer. I couldn’t stand his wounded expression. I looked over at the table beside us. Girls younger than me giggled and flirted with a nearby table of boys. Middle-school kids probably skipping class. I envied them.

  “What do you expect me to do?” I asked, still watching the kids.

  “I don’t know. Nobody knows her as well as you do. I thought maybe she said something to you when you went shopping. About why she’s so unhappy.”

  My eyes narrowed. “She’s pregnant, Simon. She has raging hormones, and she’s gaining weight. You know how she is about her looks. It’s probably normal for her to act grumpy.”

  His shoulders drooped, and he ran a hand through his tight black curls. “I don’t know. I’ve talked to a couple of other guys with kids, and they said their wives were fine. I mean, moody and kooky when they were pregnant, but not like her. She’s more…I don’t think she’s supposed to be like this.”

  “So? Are you asking for my permission to walk out on her? Because she’s not acting the way you think a pregnant woman should act?”

  His expression changed. He looked almost offended. “I’m not leaving her. I’m worried about her.”

  Raw emotion crept into his features, making him look older and troubled. There were new wrinkles under his eyes and bags, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. And his cheeks were drawn, thinner.

  For an instant I felt sorry for him, the old Simon, the one I used to get along with. I remembered how he used to make me laugh. And the serious talks we’d had too. I stared at the table, remembering once when we’d been goofing around in the living room at home. Mom was in the kitchen trying to help Grandma make dinner.

  He had pressed his arm up beside mine.

  “We’re almost the same shade,” he’d said.

  I’d bit my lip shyly and nodded. “I don’t know anyone else like me,” I told him.

  “There’s lots of people like you. Maybe not in Tadita but in other places. Lots, so don’t you forget it.”

  I looked up at Simon. At his warm, caring eyes. He’d helped me, made me feel less alone.

  And then the other memory flashed in
my mind. The sight of him devouring Lacey. It made me feel sick. I glared at him, full of hate.

  He deserved to be miserable. Maybe it was karma. Payback. I shrugged and took a bite of my hamburger, even though chewing it gave me as much joy as gnawing on leather. I choked down a mouthful.

  “What do I know? I’m seventeen. I don’t know how pregnant women act.” I picked up my drink and slurped.

  Simon shifted on his chair.

  I wanted to add that I didn’t know how expectant fathers acted either, but making out with younger women probably wasn’t exactly normal.

  He picked up his chicken sandwich but didn’t bite into it. “God. I’m a jerk. I forget sometimes how you must feel about your dad. I, of all people, should get the dad thing.” He pasted a grown-up, understanding expression on his face. “When my dad left us to go to England, I felt completely abandoned. Like yesterday’s trash. Like it was my fault somehow that he would take off to another country and choose not to see his sons.”

  He put the chicken sandwich back down. “It’s too heavy. I shouldn’t have come to you with this. It’s fine. Your mom is fine.” He picked up his lunch, ripped off part of his sandwich with his teeth, and chomped.

  “Simon,” I told him slowly. “This has nothing to do with my dad or lack of. Trust me. And I really don’t know how she’s supposed to behave. She’s having a baby.”

  “I know. Forget it. It’s fine. She’s just pregnant. I’m being stupid.” He sucked on his straw, drinking his Diet Coke. “I’m not leaving,” he added. “In case you’re worried. I love her. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I swallowed another bite of hamburger. It tasted like lumpy clay and hurt going down. I wanted to spit out the truth, to tell him what I’d seen. Him. With Lacey. I wanted to scream. Purge the ugliness from inside me. I opened my mouth.

  “So. How’s song writing?” Simon asked in a lighter tone, obviously trying to move on to a safer topic. “Written anything new?”

  I held my breath, trying to force myself to tell him what I had seen. I opened my mouth and then closed it, hating myself. I wanted to tell him what I thought of it, of him. But I couldn’t do it. Instead, I just nodded.

  “What’s the song about?” He reached across the tray and grabbed a handful of my fries, shoving them into his mouth. He wasn’t as cool as he pretended to be. Mom said he only ate fattening food when something was bothering him.