Authors: Tara Kelly
Naomi was already in the locker room when I arrived. Her eyes looked glassy and vacant today. Kari stood over her, muttering something I couldn’t make out. They both stared at me for a moment before turning their attention back to each other.
“I know it was you,” Kari said before joining her friends across the aisle.
Naomi chewed on her thumbnail, eyeing the floor.
“What happened?” I took out my gym clothes and shoved my lunch box into the locker.
“Nothing important.”
“Are we going to work on ‘Dawn’ tomorrow?”
She stood up and opened her locker. “That depends. Does Justin want me to take a drug test first?”
“He’s worried about you. We both are.”
“I’m sorry that he couldn’t handle his shit.” She slammed the metal door shut. “But it doesn’t mean he gets to piss on everyone’s parade, you know? To be honest—I’m thinking of quitting the band. I’m just not feeling it anymore.”
I pulled my T-shirt over my head. It felt heavy and cold against my skin. “You can’t do that—”
“Cut the shit, Drea.” She walked toward me until our faces were inches apart. “When we first met, you looked at me like I was a pile of dog crap. And you haven’t stopped judging me since. You and Justin are dying to get rid of me. Admit it.”
“That’s not true.”
“Admit it!”
I backed away, avoiding her piercing eyes. They reminded me of a zombie’s—lifeless. “I don’t understand why you… why you’re—”
She moved toward me until her breath hit my cheek. It smelled like curdled milk. “Yeah, that’s right. Look away and play innocent, like always. Or better yet, run along and ask Prince Justin to save you. He’s good at that, right?”
My eyes burned and my throat felt swollen. I couldn’t breathe. “You’re acting like Scott.”
She flicked something off my shirt. “Better get to class. Wouldn’t want Little Miss Perfect to be late.” The edge in her voice made me shiver.
I spun around and ran to the gym, wishing I didn’t have to look at her again. Being near her gave me this heavy feeling in my gut.
But she never showed up to PE.
When I entered the locker room forty minutes later, there was no sign of Naomi. But I could still feel her around me. On the cement walls. In the damp air. Heavy and unrelenting.
My lunch box seemed lighter when I pulled it out. I cracked it open to find my crayons and a few pennies. My iPod and roughly ten dollars in change were missing. Only one person knew my combination.
“Did Naomi take anything?” a voice asked.
I glanced up at Kari. She peered down at my lunch box, her thin eyebrows raised.
I nodded, letting the lid fall shut.
“Yeah, I forgot to lock up yesterday. She stole twenty bucks out of my jeans.” Kari sat down next to me. “I heard you guys fighting.”
I flicked the clasp on my box.
“That’s how she gets back at people she’s pissed at,” Kari continued. “She steals from them.”
Tears burned in my eyes. “I don’t know what I did.” I turned away, hoping she couldn’t see them. “I thought we were friends.”
“So did I,” she said. “And the sad part is, I was this close to pounding her face in before class. But I couldn’t do it. She’s so pathetic. I fucking pity her.”
All I could do was nod. The money didn’t matter. Naomi took my music. The one thing I couldn’t stand to be without. She knew that.
Kari said something else, but her words didn’t register. She stood up, staring at me expectantly. “Right, well, see ya.”
I sat in my sweaty gym clothes, unable to move. My teeth clenched together, and I gripped the sides of the bench. At that moment, I wanted to push Naomi to the ground and tell her what a disappointment she was. A selfish, stupid girl.
I threw my lunch box against the lockers, watching it explode open and fall to the floor. One of the pennies twirled for a few seconds. Almost like it was laughing at me. I crushed it with my foot and left the box where it fell. She might as well take it all. She obviously needed it a lot more than I did.
Justin asked where my lunch box was after film class. I didn’t want to talk about it. He put his hand over mine when we got into his car.
“Will seeing my Bösendorfer cheer you up?” he asked.
I nodded. “Will your family be there?”
“My sister will be. She wants to meet you.”
I stared out the window. Justin playing a real piano. It sounded like the perfect date, minus the whole meeting-strangers bit.
“Is Naomi coming to practice tomorrow?” he asked.
I shook my head and bit down on my tongue. Just hearing her name made me shrivel inside. We went up to Magnolia Street instead of Holly.
He looked over at me when we hit a red light. “What happened, Drea?”
I watched a group of skateboarders collide in a Quickie Mart parking lot. One of them had purple hair like Naomi. No matter where I looked, I couldn’t get away from her. Or the sick feeling lurking in my stomach. So I told Justin, hoping he’d have some magical answer.
He didn’t. We rode in silence until we pulled up in front of his house. It was a small, one-story deal on the south side of town. White paint. Black shutters. I guess it kind of fit him.
He gave me a long hug after we got out. We stood on his curb for a while, barely moving.
“What did I do wrong?” I asked.
He kissed the top of my head. “Speed makes people crazy. When I did it, I loved the world one minute and hated it the next. I had no control over what I did or said sometimes—at least it felt that way. Sometimes I wanted to tear everything apart.” He backed away from me. “Naomi likes you, despite what she said. Chances are she won’t even remember tomorrow. That’s the fucked-up part.”
“But I’ll remember.”
“Come on,” he whispered, pulling me down a long driveway. It led to a white structure that I assumed was the garage. But he unlocked the side door and let me in first.
A shiny black piano was the first thing to greet me. It loomed in front of us in all its statuesque glory, itching to be played. The cement floor was covered with large rugs. The kind with kaleidoscopic patterns. Shelves of CDs and books framed the room, and a queen-sized bed with tousled blue sheets sat in the corner.
“Reminds me a little of my basement.”
“Yeah. It was the garage, but my brother-in-law renovated it. It’s not quite finished yet.” He motioned to the floor. “They’re renting it out to me.”
I walked toward the piano and admired the pristine keys. “They didn’t want to park in it?”
He brushed past me and sat on the bench. “They want to turn it into an art studio—eventually.”
I scanned the black-and-white photographs lining the walls. They were images of odd things like bridge beams, rusty barns, alleyways, random body parts, and melted ice cream. “I didn’t know you were into photography.”
He looked around the room and shrugged. “I didn’t go anywhere without a camera my freshman year. But I haven’t taken any in a while.”
“You should start up again. I like them.” I bit my lip. It was weird being alone with him in his space. Yet somehow my problems stayed outside his door. I felt safe in here.
He smiled at me. “I’d like to. Have a seat anywhere. I’ll play you something.”
I had to decide between a black beanbag and the bed. The beanbag was closer and just my size.
He began playing as my body melted into the Styrofoam. The acoustics in the garage weren’t half bad. It almost felt like we were in a mini concert hall. His notes inched through my skin and warmed me to the bone. He wasn’t kidding. The difference between a
real
piano and my
crappy
midi was astronomical. I would’ve been embarrassed if I wasn’t so taken in by the melody swirling around me. This song was white and silver with a touch of red for the harder notes.
I curled up on the bag, closing my eyes. The only thing missing was Naomi’s voice. But I put the thought aside and got lost in my daydreams. Most of them involved kisses, nature hikes, and traveling to unknown destinations. Maybe in a clunky tour bus.
“Hey,” he said after two songs. “Did I put you to sleep?”
I opened my eyes and nearly laughed at his pout. “No, you took me somewhere else.”
He walked over and kneeled in front of me. “Want to tell me about it?”
I shook my head. “It’s a secret.”
He leaned over and kissed me. We’d made out almost every day, and I liked it more every time. Even the sore lips and the dehydration. But our clothes stayed on, and his hands avoided my chest area. Part of me really wanted to do more, and another part was terrified of it. What if I hated how it felt? What if he hated how I felt? I barely had boobs, compared to most girls.
Justin pulled back and sat on his heels. “We should go say hi to my sister.”
I got up and attempted to smile. Obviously, I didn’t do a good job because he touched my cheek and told me not to worry. His sister trusted his judgment.
The main house had pumpkin-colored walls and smelled like apples. Justin led me through the entranceway and into the kitchen. A woman took silverware out of the dishwasher and placed it in a drawer, and a dark-haired little girl frantically colored something at the kitchen table.
The woman looked up at me, smiling. She had Justin’s eyes and high cheekbones, but honey-blond hair. I figured it was dyed due to the darker locks underneath.
“Drea, this is my sister, Nicci.” He motioned to me. “Nicci, this is Drea—my girlfriend.”
“Hi.” He’d said
girlfriend
. It gave me a fluttery feeling, but a good one. At least I thought it was.
“It’s really good to meet you. I’ve heard you are quite the talented producer,” she said.
“Thank you. I mean, it’s good to meet you too.” I clenched my hands into balls. Why was I thanking her for hearing something?
“You guys sticking around for dinner?” Nicci asked.
Justin nudged me. “Don’t worry. My sister is a decent cook.”
“Decent? Oh, whatever, Mister I Blackened My Toast This Morning and Set Off the Smoke Alarm.” She laughed, showing a set of dimples. She looked younger than I thought she’d be. No more than twenty-five.
“Hey”—he held his hands up—“someone changed the setting.”
“Likely story.” Nicci walked over to the little girl and peered over her shoulder.
“I’d like to stay,” I said.
“I want you to meet someone else too.” Justin took my hand, leading me toward the table. “This is my niece, Madison.”
Madison drew spirals with a purple crayon. She hummed a soft note with each circle. Justin sat on one side of her, and I took the other.
The phone rang, and Nicci rushed off to get it. Whoever it was made her frown and leave the kitchen. I turned my attention back to Justin’s niece. She drew horizontal lines now. Her lips pursed together in deep concentration.
“How old is she?” I asked.
“Four,” Justin answered. “She does the coloring thing a lot. I think we have a little artist in the making here.”
“It calms her.”
“How do you know?”
I smiled at him. “I just do.”
Madison paused, her big brown eyes searching the table. She picked up an orange crayon and stuck it in my hand.
“Wow.” Justin chuckled. “I was here a month before I got invited to color with her.”
“I’m just special.” I stuck my tongue out at him.
“Yeah, you are.”
I reached for a blank piece of paper, but she slapped her hand on the pile.
“No,” she said, pulling it out of my reach. She counted through five before handing one to me.
“She’s got an order about them,” Justin said. “Can’t mess it up.”
“What would you like me to draw, Madison?” I asked.
She’d gone back to spirals and humming.
“I drew her a pumpkin. She wasn’t too into that,” Justin said.
I mimicked her rhythm, starting at the corner and making my way down. Coloring always soothed me. The feel of a crayon against paper was satisfying in a way I couldn’t explain to just anyone. But I bet Madison understood.
Nicci walked back into the kitchen. “Dad’s on the phone.”
His eyes widened at her. “He wants to talk to me?”
“He wants to say hi,” she said.
Justin scrambled out of the chair and brushed his hand against my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
Nicci grinned at the crayon in my hand and sat down in his place. “She likes you.”
“I have a bunch of coloring books at home. She can have some if she’d like,” I told her.
“I think she’d really love that.” She ruffled her daughter’s hair. “Say thank you to Drea.”
Madison repeated her words exactly but didn’t let it stop her project.
“Did you like drawing too?” Nicci asked.
“I still do. It relaxes me.” I kept my eyes on the paper. His sister seemed nice, but I felt as if I was under a microscope. What if she didn’t like me?
“I use a punching bag to relax. We all have our methods.” She laughed. It sounded almost nervous.
I nodded and attempted to smile. She asked me about San Francisco and if I liked Bellingham. Small talk wasn’t where I made my best impressions, but I answered as best I could. I was tempted to ask her if she wanted to pick up a crayon and join us.
“I’m really glad you and Justin met. He was pretty down when he got here in June, but I see a little more of the kid brother I once knew every day.”
I stopped scribbling. “You think that’s because of me?”
She smiled. “Well, you’re definitely helping. So thank you for that.”
I handed my drawing to Madison. “He’s helped me just as much.”
She shuffled it in her pile, a little grin forming on her face.
“Hey, quit talking about me,” Justin said, grabbing my shoulders.
“Oh, I wasn’t saying anything bad. I—”
“I’m only messing with you,” he whispered.
“How’d it go?” Nicci stood up.
He exhaled and massaged my shoulders. “A lot of awkward silence. But it was good to hear his voice, you know?”
She walked behind me. “He’ll come around. I need to get started on dinner. We’ll talk more later, okay?”
“Sure.” He leaned into my ear again. “You want to go back to my room?”
I got up and followed him back to the garage. As soon as he shut the door, I gave him a hug. He looked like he needed it.