It wasn’t until we were heading out to lunch recess that Kevin caught my arm and whispered, “Meet me out by the bleachers.” He sprinted off.
For the first time ever, I didn’t run after him. I stalled around in the restroom, combing my hair and arguing in the mirror with my conscience. So what if he’s guilty? I reasoned. A lot of prison inmates get married. And look on the bright side. I’ll always know where he is at night.
When I finally arrived at the field, Kevin was standing, scraping gravel around in a circle at his feet. He looked up and smiled. “Here.” He handed me a package.
“Please.” I pushed it away. “No more presents.”
“It’s just gum,” he said. “You want a hunk?”
My cheeks seared. “Sure,” I said.
“Hugh and I wanted to know if maybe you and me and him and Prairie could get together. You know, do something.”
I unwrapped my Dubble Bubble and tossed it into my mouth. Highly illegal. Highly delicious. “Sure,” I said. “When?”
Kevin blew a bubble and it popped. He sucked it in. “I was thinking Saturday night. We could rent a movie. Maybe order a pizza or something.”
A memory flashed into focus. “Hugh’s favorite pizza is anchovy,” I said.
Kevin looked like he was going to hurl. “Did I say pizza? I meant Chinese take-out.”
I giggled.
He smiled.
“Sounds like fun,” I said. “What time?”
“I don’t know. Seven?”
“Seven it is.” Oh, brother, I sounded like Miss Manners.
“I don’t live too far from you,” Kevin said. “Just a few blocks.” He told me his address. I pretended I didn’t already know it.
“Hugh said his mom could pick you up on their way over, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, that’ll work,” I said.
“Did you know he lives right next door to Prairie?” Kevin shook his head. “How lucky can you get?”
Lucky as Lucky Charms, I almost said. Fortunately the bell cut off that retard remark.
“Geez, already?” Kevin glanced at his watch. “Let me finish this, then I’ll walk you in.” With his right Reebok, he scraped something in the dirt.
I focused on his feet. The circle he was scraping earlier wasn’t a circle. It was a heart. Inside the heart, he’d scraped K+J.
In a futile effort to get my heart restarted, I swallowed my gum.
Chapter 18
Dear Fantasy, Fun, and Flavor-Filled Food Diary,
He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. Oh, yeah. Today was a good diet day. I had three bites of Dad’s magic meatloaf, which was chewy as chicken gizzards. One more bite and I would’ve barfed my green beans. Which, believe it or not, were actually tasty. I even had a second helping. And I passed on dessert.
P.S. Did I mention Kevin Rooney loves me?
“Jenny and Vanessa, your dad and I figured out something to do for our family fun time that we’d all enjoy,” Mom said, as Vanessa and I were settling in to watch reruns of Beavis and Butt-Head.
Dad stood behind Mom in the doorway, his arm snaking around her waist.
Vanessa looked at me. Neither of us dared ask.
Dad grinned. “I’ll give you a hint. Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum.”
Vanessa’s eyes grew wide. “We’re cruising the singles bars down by the dock?” She looked interested.
Mom said, “No.” She clucked at Vanessa. “Pirate’s Cove. It opens this Saturday for the summer.”
Vanessa choked. “Are you insane? Nobody plays putt-putt anymore.”
Mom folded her arms. “You never like any idea we come up with, Vanessa. You’re so negative. That’s part of your problem; part of our problem as a family. Nothing we ever try to do pleases you. At least Jenny’s willing to give our family fun time a try.”
Which made me choke. The last thing I wanted to do in the world was humiliate myself in public again.
Mom added, “I’m probably going to have to work Saturday, so we’ll go Saturday night.”
Saturday night? The remote control slipped out of my hand and clunked across the coffee table. As I retrieved it, I imagined what was going to happen after I told Mom what I was about to. Walking the plank came to mind. Mutiny came to mind. “Uh, gee, I’d really like to go to Pirate’s Cove for a few rounds of family putt-putt, Mom, Dad.” I smiled at them. “But, uh, I already have plans Saturday night.”
All eyes zeroed in on me.
“Are you going out with Kevin?” Van asked. She realized her error before my eye bullets assassinated her.
To divert disaster, I huffed and said, “I kept Friday night open because I know it’s family night. Then you go and change it on me. Geez.”
Mom lowered herself into the La-Z-Boy. “Just what were you and Kevin planning to do Saturday night?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Smoke dope and have sex.”
“Jenny!” Mom almost dislocated her jawbone.
Dad cracked up. Propping himself on his elbows behind Mom, he said, “You can have sex, but don’t do drugs.”
“Robert!”
Van and I both cracked a smile.
Mom stared me down. “Well?”
My smile faded. “He asked me to come over and watch a movie. With Prairie and Hugh. Geez,” I said again. Like it was a mortal sin to hang out with your friends.
“So much for putt-putt,” Vanessa said. She took the remote from me and clicked on the TV. As she channel surfed to MTV, she said, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” In a murmur, she added, “Like I’ll ever get the chance.”
From the end table, Mom retrieved the TV Guide and flipped through it. “I’d like to get to know this boy better. Why don’t you invite him to dinner before your date?”
In this life? “We were going to order out. Chinese gourmet or something.” I glared at her.
“How are you getting to his house?” Mom glanced over the TV Guide at me.
Why didn’t she turn off all the lights and dangle a naked lightbulb over my head? “Hugh’s mom is taking him and Prairie and picking me up on the way.”
Vanessa bounded to her feet. “Anyone want popcorn?”
I raised my hand. So did Dad.
“No.” Mom leaned back and propped up her feet. She blinked at Vanessa. “I mean yes to popcorn, no to Jenny.”
My head whipped around. “What do you mean ‘no’? You mean I can’t go? Mom, I’m almost thirteen years old. I’m the oldest person in the world to never have a date. Besides Vanessa.”
From the doorway, Van’s eyes nailed me.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Mom, if I don’t go, he won’t ask me again. You don’t know Kevin. He’s the most popular guy in school. Girls would do anything to get a date with Kevin Rooney.”
“Anything?” Dad arched an eyebrow.
“Pretty much,” I answered.
“That’s the problem,” Mom said. “I don’t know him. And I didn’t say you couldn’t go. I just think he should come and pick you up himself.” Her finger traveled down the page of TV shows. “It’s only good manners,” she said. “That way, I, we”—she looked up at Dad—“can spend a little time with Kevin.”
“Oh.” My fit fizzled. “Okay.” A little time, as in a split second.
“Well, then, it’ll be just the three of us for family fun night.” Mom sighed. “Let’s watch Providence.”
I might’ve groaned. The microwave dinged and I followed my nose to the kitchen.
Vanessa stood at the counter, arms folded.
Guess she heard. “I owe you one,” I said.
“A big one,” she said. “A gigantic, mammoth, enormous, unbelievably big one.”
“Okay.” I rolled my eyes. “I get the picture.”
We had seventh-grade orientation the next day in school. If you made it to seventh grade at Montrose, you got rewarded by being able to choose your own classes. Not all of them; you still had to suffer through math and English and reading, but you could take
a few electives, too. Such as chorus and French and domestic sciences, which was basically cooking and cleaning and caring for any children you might have unexpectedly.
Orientation was supposed to get us hyped about coming back to school after summer break, but all I felt was fear. Not that it wasn’t exciting to be in seventh grade, finally, after all the build-up. But it was scary, too. Like crossing over into adulthood. Coming of age. Making life choices. Kindergarten was starting to look good in retrospect.
As we were transferring between classes, I said to the Squad, “What happens if you take the wrong electives and end up skilled in something like auto repair?”
Max’s eyes gleamed. “Is that a choice?”
“Don’t get excited.” I held her down. “I was just giving an example.”
She deflated like a flat tire.
Lydia said, “Personally, I’m taking art and music and dance. All the fine arts. Since I plan to be an actress.”
We looked at her.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing,” I said. “At least you have a career in mind. The only thing I can picture myself doing is working the counter at Wendy’s.”
As if out of fairy dust, Kevin materialized at my side. “What are you going to take, Jen?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “I don’t see sumo wrestling on the list.” I cringed. Why did I say that?
He laughed and punched my arm. “Let’s try to get at least a couple of classes together, okay?”
“Okay.” Seventh grade was looking up.
“I really want to take computer lab,” he said.
“Oh, me, too,” I lied.
“And I guess, since we have to take a science class, I’d like biology. I hear you get to dissect frogs and stuff.”
“Great.” I gagged. “Wow, you’re picking all my top choices.”
He beamed. “Let’s compare schedules Saturday night.”
“Uh, speaking of Saturday.” I gulped. “There’s been a change in plans.”
He stopped dead. I skidded to a halt and turned around. “Come on, Jenny.” Lydia tugged at my sleeve. “We’re going to be late to geography.”
Geography? Who needed that? “You go ahead. I’ll catch up.”
Kevin watched Lydia, Prairie, and Max tromp off down the hall before blinking back to me. “You mean you can’t come?” He sounded disappointed.
Quickly I answered, “Oh, I can still come.”
Did he exhale in relief? I think he did.
“It’s just that my parents want to meet you. They said you should pick me up.” I smiled wanly.
Kevin shrugged. “Okay. Should I wear a suit and tie?”
“Do you have a suit of armor?”
He laughed and punched my arm. I hoped the burgeoning bruise would never heal.
Lydia slid in next to me at lunch. She was steamed about something. You could see the smoke swirling out of her ears. When she stabbed a chunk of meat like it was crawling off the tray, I said, “What’s up, Lyd?”
“You wouldn’t believe what Ashley did today!” she screeched.
I emptied what was left of my eardrum into my palm. “Why don’t you tell us?”
Across the table, Max and Prairie stopped eating.
Lydia let out a short breath. “I can’t talk about it. Not yet. Not here. I’ll tell you later, in the Peacemobile.” She shook her head and her eyes narrowed. “We’ve got to get her. We’ve got to.”
While she stewed over her chicken-fried steak, Prairie and I discussed our upcoming date. “What are you going to wear?” Prairie asked.
“I was thinking about borrowing my mom’s black negligee,” I answered.
Prairie giggled. “Do you think it’s too c-cold to wear shorts?”
My eyes widened. Prairie was the only other girl in school besides me who wouldn’t wear shorts. She wouldn’t even wear a skirt, since it exposed her prosthesis. But Hugh was fascinated by Prairie’s fake foot. He’d probably love the opportunity to study it up close and personal.
Unfortunately I didn’t think showing off my cellulite would advance Kevin’s and my relationship beyond Saturday night. “It might get kind of chilly,” I said, “depending on how late we stay out. Maybe we should just wear jeans.”
“Okay,” Prairie agreed. “My grandma got me this cashmere sweater on her trip to Ireland. It has little pearls in the neck. Do you think that’d be too dressy?”
“Do you mind?” Lydia snapped. “I’m trying to eat.”
Prairie’s eyes held mine. We both zipped our lips, literally. I wondered if we shouldn’t elect a class for Lydia. Something called uncontrollable anger management.
Chapter 19
After school we stopped at 7-Eleven for snacks before heading to the Peacemobile. The only thing I could find that remotely resembled diet food was a bag of pork rinds.
Settling into our places, I opened the bag and said, “Know what I’d do with two hundred dollars? I’d have liposuction. They ought to be able to suck out twenty pounds of fat for two hundred dollars.” I crunched into a pork rind and retched. “It’d sure save me a lifetime of dieting.”
Max said, “I keep telling you, Solano, you’re not fat.”
Lydia interrupted. “Does anybody care what Ashley did to me today?”
“Hey, Lydia,” I said, passing her the bag. “Are you ever going to tell us what Ashley did to you today?”
She snatched the bag from me, sneering. Picking out the curliest pork rind off the top, she said, “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”
“Try us,” Max said.
Lydia snapped off an end, chewed, and swallowed. She held out her hand to Max. Max passed her the liter bottle of Pepsi One we were sharing. Lydia wiped the rim with her finger.
“We don’t have all day,” I said.
Lydia blinked at me, then took her sweet time slugging down half the bottle. If I wasn’t such a benevolent leader…
Lydia gave the bottle back to Max, who passed it on to Prairie. “We were in domestic sciences,” Lydia began.
“I’m taking that,” Max broke in. “That will be sooo fun.”
We all stared at her. The moment of shock passed.
Lydia went on, “I was asking Ms. Ramos about the unit on personal appearance and hygiene because I heard from some seventh graders that we got to have our colors done.”
“Our what?” My nose wrinkled.
“Our colors. You know, learning what makeup and clothes go best with our skin type and personality.”
“I’m signing up tomorrow,” Max said.
I couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. The only colors she ever wore were camouflage and black.
“Anyway,” Lydia said as she wound her hair behind her ears, “before Ms. Ramos could answer me, Ashley yells out from the back, ‘We already know your colors, Lydia. Black and blue.’ ”
“Oh, brother,” Prairie muttered.
“I know,” Lydia said. “Even though it wasn’t funny, everyone laughed. Especially the seventh-grade attendants who were showing us around. Then Ashley said, ‘Hear that siren? I think it’s the fashion police. They’re coming for you, Lydia.’ Which made everyone laugh louder.”
I shook my head sympathetically. Even though Lydia did wear some strange getups, like pink flowered shirts with green plaid shorts, that kind of public humiliation was uncalled for. Even from Ashley.
“Krupps is a cow,” Max said.
“Thank you, Max,” Lydia replied. She took the bag of pork rinds from Prairie as it made its return trip. “She’s still wearing that purse like it’s a vital organ.”
“I was thinking more like a tumor,” I said. “A tumor on the world, which is what she is.”
“Thank you, Jenny.” Lydia handed off the bag to me. “Whatever she’s got crammed in there has got to be illegal.”
“It’s got to be the stolen money, or what’s left of it,” I said.
Nobody answered. The only sound was crunching pork
rinds.
“It’s probably a carton of Camel cigarettes. Isn’t that her brand, Max?” Lydia said.
“How would I know?” If Max could blush, she would have.
“Hey, Max,” I said. “Why don’t you just casually walk by tomorrow and rip Ashley’s purse off her arm. Too bad if her arm comes with it.”
Max’s eyes lit up. Everyone hyena howled.
“I think we j-just need to figure out a way to get Mrs. Jonas’s money back.” Prairie looked at me.
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “The only thing of value I own are my earrings and this gold necklace from Kevin. You’d have to kill me to get them.”
“How do you want it?” Max asked. “Awake or asleep?” She grinned evilly.
“Ha, ha.” I sneered at her, but decided I’d leave the light on tonight.
Lydia said, “I still think the extra money Ms. Milner got should go to Mrs. Jonas.”
“I don’t,” Prairie said. “People gave that m-money back for the starving orphans of India. It wouldn’t be right to give it to Mrs. Jonas.” She turned to me. “Can’t you think of anything, Jenny?”
I frowned at her. “No.” Geez, being leader didn’t mean I had all the answers.
“Let’s play some music,” I said, to change the subject. “Go get your CD player, Max.”
“Can’t,” Max said.
“Why not?” Lydia asked.
Max slurped the last sip of Pepsi and crushed the bottle under her foot. “Hocked it,” she said.
Prairie gasped. “You sold your new CD player? Why?”
Max shrugged. “Needed the cash.”
Lydia asked, “How much did you get?”
“With all my CDs included, almost a hundred bucks.”
“So,” I ventured cautiously, “what did you do with the money?”
Slowly Max turned to me. “One guess.”
I gulped. “Starving orphans?”
She didn’t say yes and she didn’t say no. The one question I really wanted to ask, I couldn’t. All I could do was stare at her shoes.
After that we sort of ran out of things to talk about. Next to me, Lydia sulked on the sofa. I think she was still steaming over Ashley. Prairie kept looking at me, not saying anything. I think she wanted to discuss our upcoming date and couldn’t in Lydia’s presence. Across from me, Max lounged back in her beanbag chair, eyeing my necklace and earrings. It made me nervous, so I got up and said, “Well, I better get going. I have gobs of homework.” Right. On orientation day? The obvious lie only intensified the silence.