At the Edge

NORAH McCLINTOCK

T

he way I had imagined it, the first few weeks in September would be pure heaven, total bliss, life as it should be—well, apart from having to go back to school.

The source of all this potential happiness? I would be staying with my father while the renovations to my mother's house, which had started during the summer, were finally completed. But, much as I love my dad, it wasn't the prospect of his company that filled me with joy. I was looking forward to a few weeks at my dad's place because that meant that I would be able to see Nick every day. Nick lives in an apartment on the second floor of my dad's building. My dad is his landlord.

But, as is so often the case where Nick is involved, things did not go according to plan. The morning of my first day with my father—also the first day of the school year—found me bending over in the park across the street from my dad's building, hand thrust deep into a plastic bag so that I could pick up after Nick's enormous black dog, Orion.

The city's poop-and-scoop law is one of the two reasons I have never wanted a dog. The other reason: a serious case of dog phobia brought on by a nasty bite when I was in elementary school. But I made an exception for Orion. I had agreed to take him out first thing in the morning so that Nick could get an hour or so of sleep before school.

Nick lives on his own. He supports himself. And since the middle of summer, he had been working to the point of exhaustion. He had a part-time job washing dishes at La Folie, the restaurant that occupies the ground floor of my father's building, and he took a second job as a night janitor at a mall. The way he had things mapped out for the foreseeable future: he would put in three or four shifts a week at the mall, usually from ten at night until six in the morning. If he had school the next day, he would dash home and grab a couple of hours of sleep before dragging himself out of bed and going to class.

Nick goes to an alternative school that caters to kids like him—who have been in trouble with the law, who come from messed-up families, who live by themselves or in group homes. It has a more flexible schedule than a regular school—it has to.

I couldn't imagine him keeping up the pace for long. I guess he couldn't either, because he kept saying it was just temporary. I felt bad that he had to work so hard, which is why I offered to help.

So there I was, trying not to gag as I picked up after Orion and wondered where Nick was. He hadn't been home when I'd gone downstairs to get the big dog. My question was answered when a sleek silver Lexus pulled up to the curb across the street and Nick got out. I raised my hand to wave to him, but I guess he didn't see me, because he headed straight for the door to my dad's building. Poor guy. He was probably exhausted. While he was digging his keys out of his pocket, the driver's-side door opened and a stunning blonde got out. She called to Nick. He turned and went back to the car, and she handed him something—I couldn't see what it was. Nick glanced at it and stuffed whatever it was into his jeans pocket. The girl said something else and then went up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. My mouth gaped. Why was a beautiful blonde in a Lexus kissing my boyfriend? More importantly, why was he letting her?

The girl was smiling when she slid back in behind the wheel. She waved at Nick and drove away. Nick turned again to go inside. I couldn't decide what to do. Should I call to him and demand to know what was going on? Or should I—

Rowf!

That's all it took—the rumble of Orion's deep doggy voice caught Nick's attention. He darted across the street and squatted beside me, scratching Orion behind the ears.

“So who was that?” I said in what I hoped was a casual tone.

Nick grinned as the big dog flipped over onto his back to get his belly scratched. “You mean Danny?”

“Danny?” I was confused. He said it as if I should know what he was talking about.
Wait a minute
. “Danny from work?”

“Yeah.”

“Danny your friend, the one who got you the job at the mall?”

“Yeah. I told you about her.”

That was true—sort of.

“You told me a friend named Danny worked at the mall and got you a job there,” I said. “You never said Danny was a girl.” Especially not a drop-dead gorgeous one. In fact, apart from a couple of brief mentions, he'd barely talked about Danny at all. Not that I'd asked—why would I?

“What difference does it make?” Nick said.

She'd kissed him. That's what difference it made.

“You said your friend Danny worked as a janitor with you.”

“Yeah.” He tried without success to stifle a yawn.

“You expect me to believe that girl is a janitor?” She looked more like a model. And what kind of mall janitor drove a Lexus?

“She was, but she isn't anymore,” Nick said. “She was just there for the summer.” Nick had spent the first part of the summer in a small town north of the city, near where I'd been working at a small local newspaper. He'd spent the rest of the summer back in the city, first recuperating from a gunshot wound and then working at the mall, driving a floor polisher. “Her dad owns the company that has the contract to clean the mall.”

“So your friend Danny is the boss's daughter?”

“Yeah. But she's cool. She never acts like she's anything special. All summer she worked as hard as anyone else—maybe harder.”

“How come she suddenly decided to drive you home?”

Nick gave me a look.

“She's been driving me home ever since I got the job,” he said. That was news to me too. “Today was her last day. Her parents don't want her to work during the school year. They want her to concentrate on homework and stuff.”

Judging by the car she drove, she probably didn't need to work during the summer either. Whatever. I was glad she was past tense. I didn't want to think about Nick spending every night with a coworker who looked like she belonged in a fashion layout.

“I saw her give you something,” I said, still trying to sound casual.

“She got a new phone. She gave me the number.”

I didn't like the sound of that, but I bit my tongue. Nick took Orion's leash from me.

“I gotta go, Robyn. I gotta grab some sleep before school.”

He loped back across the street.

“You're welcome,” I muttered as I watched him go.

W

hen I caught up with Morgan and Billy at school just before the bell rang, they were so tightly wrapped around each other that, from a distance, they looked like one person. The two of them had been inseparable ever since Billy got back from his summer job as a camp counselor. They had also been in almost nonstop physical contact with each other. They were my best friends—they had been for practically my whole life. But I was getting tired of watching them kissing and cuddling and beaming at each other like they were the only two people in the world who knew what love was, especially since I hardly ever saw Nick.