B Negative (2 page)

All I have to do is answer. Say something.
Anything
. It doesn't matter. It's not like Anthony actually cares what I think.

I almost get my mouth open, but then I make the mistake of looking at him. He's leaning back with his hands behind his head. He's got this “rugged guy” smile on his face, like the one he used in that so-called modeling job for the Dugger's Menswear flyer. He has one too many buttons undone on his shirt.

He better not be doing that for Tara's benefit.

He sticks his foot out and jabs me in the leg. “C'mon, Paddy. What? What's it going to be?”

He's either totally stunned or he's taunting me.

I can't stand the guy. I can't even stand the thought of him
thinking
I can stand him.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I sort of smile. Tara gives me that little headshake again.

“Neither, actually,” I say to him. “I'm joining the Army.”

Chapter Three

Anthony thinks I'm joking. He throws back his head and laughs. (Even his laugh is bullshit.)

The truth is I didn't really mean it. I just wanted to say something that would irritate him but still sound like an answer. Joining the Army just sort of popped into my head. I knew he'd hate it. He likes to think of himself as a pacifist. Actually, he's just too lazy to fight for anything.

But now that I've said it, I realize it's not a bad idea. It'd be a regular paycheck. And it would make Dad happy. He likes the military. He was in the Navy for twenty years until he retired and took a job as a commissionaire.

I can always play in a band in my spare time.

“I'm not kidding,” I say. “I'm signing up next week.” I use my baby finger to pick some food out from between my molars. That's how much Anthony's opinion means to me.

His chair slams back onto the floor.

“The Army!” He makes it sound like I'm joining the circus—though knowing Anthony, he'd probably think that was perfectly fine. (Just what we need. Another freak in the family.)

I shrug. “Yeah, the Army.”

He stretches out the fingers on his right hand and turns to Mom. “Maura!” he says. He's too lazy to even fight his
own
battles.

I'm loving this. He's so helpless— he's so
hope
less. Anthony's big problem is that he thinks he's so frigging gorgeous he should rule the world. He's obviously watched too many Disney cartoons. That's the only place they make you prince just because you're pretty.

I make sure there's no smile showing on my face and then I turn and look at Mom too.

She's fussing with her collar and her eyes have gone all teary again.

Damn.

I didn't mean to upset her.

Marlon says, “Paddy's joining the Army? Yay!”

Mom says, “Quiet, Marlon, please,” but he jumps off her knee and starts racing around the table pretending to shoot everyone.

“Bang! Bang! Bang! You're dead!”

Anthony looks at me. “Is that what you want to do? Kill people? Huh? Or maybe you'd prefer to
get
killed?”

Olivia stops braiding Tara's hair. She looks at me. Her bottom lip starts to quiver. Then she bursts into tears. “I don't want Paddy to die!”

Anthony puts on this fake smile. “Good work,” he says to me. “Look what you did to your little sister…” Olivia runs into his arms, sobbing.

I turn to look at Tara. I'm sort of hoping she'll be laughing at this. I mean, it's so ridiculous. What else can you do?

Tara's got three scraggly braids on the side of her head. Her arms are crossed so tight that her collarbones are all sticking out and webbed with skin. They make me think of a bat's wing. She's not laughing.

She's mad at me too.

Chapter Four

We're in the car outside Tara's apartment building. It's dark now. She's staring straight out the windshield, playing with her gum. She pulls it out in a long string, then chews it back in. She's doing that so she doesn't have to talk to me.

“What?” I say.

She looks at me then turns back and looks out the windshield again.

“C'mon. What?” I say. I'm trying not to laugh.

We do this sometimes. We get in these little fights and we both say we hate it, but the truth is, it's kind of fun.

Tara's one of those skinny girls who doesn't smile much. I remember when I first met her, I used to think she was always pissed off about something.

I didn't like her very much. Then I got to know her and realized she's not mad. It's just the way she holds her face. She's actually prettier when she smiles.

I know she's dying to tell me what a jerk I am for upsetting everyone. I can handle that. Eventually I'll come up with something that will make her laugh, and we'll be okay again.

No use wasting time. The sooner we get things started, the sooner we can get this over with and move on to the good stuff.

“C'mon,” I say again and give her a little poke in the ribs.

She slaps my hand away.

“Asshole,” she says.

It's not the first time she's called me that, but her tone is different now. It takes me a second to process it.

“Seriously?” I say. “You're actually mad?”

She turns her head toward me really slowly. She squints up her eyes, then drops her jaw. I take that as a yes.

“What?” I say. “What's the problem?”

“You're an idiot.”

“Anthony's the idiot.”

“Oh, yeah? Really? He's not the one joining the Army.”

So that's what she's pissed about.

I sort of laugh. “Look,” I start, but then I don't know what to say. If I admit I said I'm signing up just to bug Anthony, I really will look like an asshole. Worse, she'll make me un-say it. She'll make me back down and not go. There's no way I can do that now. Not after the fight Anthony and I had. He went totally insane. I don't want to give him a reason to think he had any right to.

She leans her back against the car door and glares at me. She's a master of the silent treatment. I clear my throat. “It's just the Army. Lots of people join the Army.”

She coughs like that's a stupid thing to say. It's so typical Tara.

Now we're both mad.

I try to keep my temper under control. “It's a real job,” I say. “Real money. I could learn a skill too. The Army pays for your education, you know.”

Truth is, I'm not a hundred-percent sure about that, but it worked. It softens her up a bit. Tara understands money. Or at least what it's like not to have any. If I ever feel sorry for myself, I just have to look at how she and her mother live. At least I have a father helping out.

She brushes her hair off her face. That's a good sign. She still wants to look nice for me. I go in to close the deal. “And I think I'd really like it too.”

She spits out her gum and squeezes it into a little scrap of paper. “Oh, please. Cut the crap, Paddy. What kind of moron do you think I am? You wouldn't like the Army. You like getting up at six am? You like following orders? You like shooting people?”

“Not everyone in the Army shoots people.”

“Fine. That's not the point.”

“What is the point then?”

I suddenly realize she's going to cry, and that really freaks me out. Tara never cries. She roots around in her pocket for another piece of gum. She tries to push it through the bubble wrap but can't and biffs the whole package on the floor.

She looks right at me. Her mouth has gone tiny, but at least she's managing to hold back the tears.

“The point is, Paddy…” She takes a big loud breath in through her nose. “The point is, that you could have talked to me first. Look. I don't want to marry you. A year from now I might not even want to go out with you. But I am your frigging girlfriend now. I would like to talk to you about these things, you know.

“And maybe if I'd had the chance to talk to you, we could have avoided that little scene tonight. I could have convinced you that you're not really a soldier type of guy. Maybe—believe it or not—Anthony's right. You really would be a whole lot happier playing your guitar at some cheesy bar, rather than out marching around somewhere in your little GI Joe costume.”

I want to defend myself. Before I can think of something to say, though, she throws her hand up in the air and is at me again.

“Or maybe I wouldn't have been able to talk you out of it, and you know what? That would have been kind of okay, too, because at least—at least!— you would have shown that you cared a little bit about me and my opinion. Instead, you make me feel like I'm just some casual acquaintance. Some Facebook friend. Someone you just hang out with for a while and then dump when you find something better to do with your time.”

“Tara,” I say, “that's not true. You know that. I—” But she's got her arms out straight in front of her like I'm going to attack her or something. She's shaking her head at me.

“Too late for that, Paddy.”

“Tara…” I lean over and put my hand on her thigh. I look her in the eyes. I smile at her.

“Trying to charm me, are you?” Her lip curls up. “It's not working—and you know what's even worse? You'll like this…” She laughs. “That's exactly what Anthony would do under the circumstances.”

I take my hand off her leg and lean back into my seat. I can feel my blood pounding. Tara's always known how to go for the jugular.

But that's fine. I've got 726 other Facebook friends. I don't need her.

She waits for me to say something back, but I don't.

I can't believe I used to think she was pretty.

She slams the door and I floor it.

Chapter Five

Mom's not the type to get mad or tell you what to do, but I can see she's not happy about me going into the Army. I almost wish she'd just say so. In fact, I almost wish she'd start crying or screaming about it. That, at least, would give me an option. I could back down without looking like I'm giving in to Anthony—or to Tara. I'd be doing it for Mom.

But she doesn't even mention it. She looks a bit sad, I guess, but Mom always looks a bit sad even when she's smiling. She did ask where Tara's been the last few days, but when I went, “Ah, we're like, you know…,” she just kind of grimaced and said, “Oh.” She didn't bring it up again.

The only thing Mom actually said was that she'd like me to get a complete medical before I sign up. I told her the Army would do that, but she said, “Please…,” and turned away really quickly. So I said, “Sure.”

I don't know why it means so much to her, but I have an idea. Dr. Wallace is the guy who delivered me. I've been seeing him all my life. Mom must figure he could talk some sense into me. She got him to tell me about birth control and stds when I reached puberty, so it's not as if she hasn't tried it before.

We drive downtown together. Mom's office is just around the corner from the doctor's, so it's easy for both of us. We stop at the Fair Trade Coffee Shop and she insists we each get a latte. That makes me nervous. Seven bucks is too much for her to be spending on coffee—but I go along with it anyway. It makes Mom happy, and I could use the caffeine. (I haven't been sleeping so well since that thing with Tara.)

We're at the counter waiting for our order. Mom is telling me—again—to ask Dr. Wallace to check out the rash on my elbow. A lady taps her on the shoulder and says, “Maura?”

It's like someone turned on a switch. Mom's face lights up and she suddenly looks like she did in old pictures of herself. She squeals, “Nadine!” They hug, hold each other out at arm's length, then hug again.

Mom smiles and shakes her head and says, “You look fabulous! What are you doing back in town?”

“Business. Just a quick trip. I didn't know you still lived here! You look fabulous too. How long has it been? I'm scared to ask.”

“Oh, gee…” Mom puts her hand on her chin. “Must be eighteen, no, more like nineteen years. It
was
nineteen years, because we did the play in February, right?”

She suddenly remembers me. “Oh, honey, sorry. This is my friend, Nadine Sommers. Nadine and I met when we put on
Anne of Green Gables
at the Orpheus. I just had a small role, but Nadine and Anthony both had lead roles.”

“Anthony? Anthony Wishart?” Nadine obviously hasn't heard that name in a while. “Do you ever see him anymore?”

That makes me laugh.

“We're married,” Mom says and blushes.

Now Nadine laughs too. “Oh, congratulations!” She looks at me. “This must be your son.”

“Oh, sorry, yes. Paddy.”

Nadine shakes my hand. “Wow. The resemblance is amazing. I guess you hear that all the time. So what do you do? Still in school?”