Kicked Out (2 page)

“I’ll pass every class — you’ll see,” I told him. Then I climbed into the passenger seat of Darren’s van.

Darren got himself settled behind the wheel and we drove off.
Freedom
, I thought, and put my nose ring back in. Just to let Darren know he wasn’t going to run my life either.

“Dad and I cleaned out my study for your bedroom,” Darren said as he drove along Portage Avenue.

“When was this?” I asked, going stiff.

“A couple of weeks ago. We’ve been talking about this for a while,” he said.

So everyone had known about this except me. Why hadn’t they included me in their little chats about my life plans? I chewed my lip and stared out the window. I thought
I’d left my parents behind, but it looked like they were still all over my life. Then I decided not to get angry. It made sense that Dad would have cleaned out the room for me. After all, Darren couldn’t do it alone.

Darren turned down Sherburn Street and his apartment block came into view. It had been specially adapted for wheelchairs. Darren turned into his parking space and we sat quietly for a moment. Finally he said, “They’re afraid for you, Dime.”

“Afraid
of
me, you mean. Afraid of me and my friends,” I said.

“Maybe,” Darren said.

As soon as I dropped my garbage bags inside the front door, I headed for the phone. I had to call Gabe right away and let him know my new number. My phone call dragged him out of bed, but he was still chipper. Of course, he said he’d be right over to see my new place. Then I phoned my best friend Tiff. She said the same thing.

After the calls, I followed Darren down the hall, dragging my bags of stuff. I felt a little guilty about taking his extra room — he could use the space. He’s studying engineering at the University of Manitoba. He gets really high marks, which sort of makes up for my D’s and C’s. Well, and the odd E.

Except for a bed, a dresser and Darren’s desk, the room was empty. The first thing I did was put a sign on my door: DIME’S ROOM. KEEP OUT. A lot of people wonder about my nickname. One day when I was eight, I refused to come out of my room when I was called. Playing Barbies seemed more important than whatever Mom wanted me to do. When she asked why I hadn’t answered, I told her I didn’t like my name. So she asked me what I’d like to be called. It was a day I felt as if I was worth about ten cents, so I said, “Dime.” No one asked why, and the nickname stuck. So did the feeling.

I changed my Metallica T-shirt and started to unpack. I was just setting my stuffed rabbit onto the bed when the door
buzzer rang. I ran to the apartment door and opened it. There stood my boyfriend and my best friend, grinning at me.

“Darren, these are my friends Gabe and Tiff,” I said. That was when I realized I’d forgotten to ask Darren if they could come over. Oh well, it was my apartment too.

“Hey, great chair! Sometime I’ll race you on my bike,” Gabe said, going over to the fridge.

Tiff laughed, but Darren’s face went blank. Stupid jokes about my brother’s wheel-chair make me want to punch someone. But you can’t punch your boyfriend, especially if his ex is still hot on his trail. I shrugged at Darren and he rolled his eyes.

“Hey, see anything in there to eat? I’m starved,” Tiff said, sitting down at the kitchen table.

My friends were embarrassing me. They wouldn’t have done this at my parents’ place — not that I could ever have them over much. Why were they acting like this here?

“There’s some pop,” Darren said.

“How ’bout this pizza?” Gabe asked, opening the freezer.

“That’s for Dime and me,” Darren said.

“But we’re dying of hunger right here in front of you!” Tiff wailed.

I stepped in and said, “Here — suck on this sugar cube. It’ll bring you back to life.”

I shoved the bowl of sugar cubes at her. Then I pulled the pop out of the fridge and closed the door.

“Let’s sit down,” I said.

Darren joined us at the table. Gabe grinned at him and said, “Hey, man — you don’t need a regular chair.”

“No, I’ve sort of got one stuck to my body,” Darren said.

“So, how are you going to drink your pop?” Gabe asked.

“The same way you do — down my throat,” Darren said.

Why couldn’t they just drink their pop and shut up? Or talk about the weather? Gabe kept staring at Darren’s fingers. My brother’s hands look unusual because of the way he
uses them. After the accident, he couldn’t move his finger muscles. That made his hands curl up. Now he holds things between his palms. At first he couldn’t even lift his arms. The doctors told him he’d never be able to, but Darren surprised them.

“How d’you get the can up to your mouth? D’you need help?” Gabe asked.

Even Tiff looked uncomfortable. “Gabe, you’re being a dork,” she said.

“Hey — a stereo!” Gabe said quickly and stood up. I could tell he was embarrassed and wanted to change the subject. He crouched down in front of Darren’s stereo and turned it full blast. Then he came back to the table and yelled, “This is great!”

Darren didn’t look at me, but I could feel him sizing up the situation. He picked up his pop and drank it, not seeming to notice the way Gabe stared.

“You’re a real pro!” Gabe yelled at him. The music was so loud, we were all yelling. If Darren hadn’t been there, I would have been having fun. But something in his
face kept me from laughing at Gabe’s jokes. Instead, my brother was making me think about what Gabe was actually saying. Was Gabe having a sub-zero day, or did he always sound like this?

Darren waited for a break in the music, then said, “I’m going to study.”

He stopped by the stereo and turned the volume down. Then he disappeared into his bedroom. Right away, Gabe went over and turned the volume back up.

“Gabe! He has to study,” I said, getting up.

Gabe pulled my face to his and kissed me. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

This kind of took my mind off the stereo. In fact, it made me want to turn it up more. Then the door buzzer went again. I could hardly hear it over the music. I waited for Darren to answer it. When he didn’t, I pulled myself out of Gabe’s hug and opened the door.

“Hello,” I said.

The woman standing in the hall was
about Mom’s age. She had that Mom Look on her face. Right away she started yelling, but then she had to because of the music.

“I’m the landlady here! What d’you think you’re doing with all that noise? This is a nice quiet building. No one who makes a lot of noise stays here for long!” she shouted.

“Sorry!” I yelled back.

Behind me, the noise suddenly cut off. I turned around to see Gabe standing by the stereo and grinning at us.

“Hey, we were just leaving,” he said.

“And don’t come back,” the woman snapped and walked away.

Gabe shrugged and said, “Guess we were giving her a little headache.”

Tiff snorted and stood up. She and Gabe came over to the door.

“Coming with us, babe?” Gabe said into my ear.

“I should ask Darren,” I said. I wondered what my brother was thinking about all of this.

“Hey, you’re on your own now, right?

And it’s a Saturday,” Gabe said.

Gabe is so gorgeous. How was I supposed to say I should do my homework with his mouth one inch from mine?

“I want you to,” Gabe said softly.

Unpacking could wait. I slid Darren’s extra key off the hook and walked out.

Chapter Three

I got in late and Darren was asleep. I hadn’t made the bed yet, so I ended up sleeping in my clothes. When I woke, it tasted as if something really ugly had crawled into my mouth. I dragged myself to the bathroom and started to brush my teeth. Then I realized I was using Darren’s comb. This was definitely going to be a problem day.

Darren’s aide had already come and
gone. Someone comes in every morning to help him get up and going. Usually the aide also made meals, but as of yesterday, that was my job. Only I hadn’t been here last night to cook supper. Suddenly I wondered what Darren had eaten. I felt so bad, I wanted to blend in with the wall and stay there forever. Slowly, I walked into the kitchen. There Darren sat, reading the newspaper and drinking a coffee the aide must have made for him.

“Sorry about last night. What did you eat?” I asked.

“I cooked the pizza. Took a while, but I managed,” Darren said, not looking up. More and more, I wanted to become part of a wall. Any wall would do.

“And I’m sorry about being late with your breakfast,” I added softly.

Darren gave me a sideways smile. “So, how’s life with my new roommate?”

I dug in for a lecture about getting in late, but Darren went back to the newspaper. I smiled and said, “Ready to make your breakfast. Eggs?”

“Two, please. There’s some bacon. And could you throw in some toast?” Darren asked.

“Cooking for you is going to be a full-time job,” I groaned. Darren read while I cooked. I loved the smell of bacon and eggs frying, but Mom had always made them for me. I tried to remember how she poured in the oil and waited for it to heat up. I almost had my nose in the frying pan, I was watching everything so closely. I chewed on my lip and hoped nothing would burn. But the food looked pretty normal when I set our plates on the table.

“This is great,” said Darren after the first bite. I figured he was probably lying, but I still beamed.

“You going to work out?” I asked.

“I might. You going to unpack?” Darren asked.

I got stiff. I couldn’t help it. I was so used to Mom and Dad wanting to know about every minute of my day. I stabbed at my eggs and said, “Maybe I like my room the way it is.”

“It’s your room. I do need to talk to you about something though,” Darren said.

“What?” I sighed loudly. So this was it — Showdown Number One.

“Dime, you look like I’ve got a gun to your head. Relax, okay? We just need to figure out how we can live together,” said Darren. He smiled, but my stomach had gone through a change of state — from stomach to rock.

“You mean rules. Your rules. You just want to figure out how to control me,” I snapped. I didn’t like my voice sharp as a knife, but I couldn’t help it.

Darren looked surprised. With a small frown, he said, “No, not control. Dime, we’re sharing the same space. We’re bound to bump into each other. I thought we could discuss what you like and what I like. That way we can figure out how to make it all work.”

My arms were crossed over my chest. I tried to get them uncrossed, but they felt stuck.
I
felt stuck, as if I was glued to a bad attitude I couldn’t get rid of. I knew Darren
was different from my parents, but right then he felt the same to me. It felt as if he was telling me:
This is the way you comb your hair. This is the way you tie your shoes. This is the way you brush your teeth
.

“I’m old enough to live my own life. No rules,” I muttered.

“That’s a rule,” Darren said.

I stared down at my plate. He was right. It looked as if you just couldn’t get away from them.

“Why are you mad at me?” Darren asked, his voice soft.

I looked at him in surprise. Then I shook my head and said, “I’m not.”

I could see he was thinking about me pretty hard. It made me nervous.

“Yes, you are,” Darren said quietly.

That was when the phone rang. I picked it up to find Mom on the other end.

“Dime?” she yelled. Her voice was so loud, she just about took out my ear. One word and she was already in full combat mode.

“Yeah?” I said. I was trying to keep
cool. It felt as if she was right in my face.

“Where were you last night? When I called at 10 p.m., Darren said you weren’t available. I know what that means where you’re concerned, young lady. If this doesn’t work out with Darren, you’ll come straight back home. I’m not letting you ruin his life,” yelled Mom. She sounded ready to lecture me for about a week.

“Mom, you sound like I’ve got a gun to your head. Relax,” I said, giving Darren a grin. He grinned back.

“You listen to what your brother says,” Mom said, as if I hadn’t said anything.

“Yup. Gotta go. Want to talk to Darren?” I asked, but I didn’t wait for her answer. I could hear her calling my name as I handed the phone over to Darren.

I showered and changed. When I came out of the bedroom, I put the dishes in the dishwasher. Mom finally let Darren off the phone just as the door buzzer rang.

“Oh, that’s Gabe. I’ve got a driving lesson,” I said. I grabbed my jacket.

“When will you unpack?” asked Darren.

“I dunno. I’ll be back to make your lunch. Promise,” I said, kissing his cheek.

The apartment hallway stretched ahead of me, quiet and empty. I was free to go anywhere I wanted— no parents, no problems. Life felt great, and it felt even greater when I got outside. There was Gabe, sitting on his bike by the curb. One glimpse of him and that wave pool feeling rippled through me. Gabe was so gorgeous. I just couldn’t figure out why he wanted to hang around with me.

“Hey, Dime,” he said.

I kissed him. That took quite a while. Then I put on the helmet he gave me and got on behind him. As we rode down Henderson Highway, I thought,
See, Gabe doesn’t try to run my life. He’s just a great kisser, that’s all
.

When we got out of Winnipeg and onto a quiet road, Gabe stopped. I got into the driver’s position. Gabe liked this. I had
to keep my hands on the handle-grips and he had to keep his hands on me. It was fun, but it made it hard to concentrate. I listened to him point out the different bumps and knobs on the dash. I knew they were important, but he had his chin on my shoulder. He was sort of breathing onto my cheek. I didn’t want to flunk out here — not on a Kawasaki Ninja. I tried repeating the information back to him.

“No, no, no, Dime. You’ve got it all wrong. Weren’t you listening?” Gabe asked.

I went stiff. I hate it when someone says “no” more than once. Like, I got it the first time, right?

“Lucky I’m checking to make sure I have it right, huh?” I grinned.

“I’ll explain it again,” Gabe sighed.

He had to explain everything, right down to how the nuts and bolts fit together. But he made it sound so complicated. By the time he was done, it felt like it would be easier to fly a supersonic jet. Finally, he settled back and said, “Go for it.”