Authors: Varian Johnson
“Just some magazines. I figured you guys could use some good reading material.”
“Forget the magazines,” Mr. Rollins said. “Who’s the little lady you brought with you?”
Madeline extended her hand to Mr. Rollins. “Madeline Smith. Nice to meet you.”
Mr. Rollins yanked his hat from his head before shaking Madeline’s hand. “Carl Rollins.” He nodded toward Leonard. “This is my cousin, Leonard King.”
Madeline and I sat down at the table. “How have you guys been doing?” I asked.
“Not so well,” Leonard said. “Rollins has been coughing an awful lot lately.”
“Speak for yourself.” Mr. Rollins winked at Madeline. “I feel great.”
Mr. Rollins may have felt great, but he didn’t sound like it. His voice sounded like he had smoked a thousand cigarettes in a single afternoon.
“This is the first time Carl’s been out of his room all week,” Ms. Beatrice said as she waddled over to us. She stopped when she reached the table. “Maddie Smith?”
Madeline squinted at the woman before smiling. “Ms. Beatrice?”
“Girl, I remember you when you could barely reach up to my waist. Now look at you.” She pulled Madeline from her seat. “Hmm, you sho’ did turn out okay.”
“You can say that again,” Mr. Rollins mumbled.
Ms. Beatrice swatted Mr. Rollins’s arm. “Shut up, you old fool. I used to be Maddie’s nanny. She was the smartest girl I ever raised. Could read before most other children could even talk.” She looked Madeline up and down. “She was just the sweetest little thing I’d ever set my eyes on.”
Madeline looked down at her feet. “Thank you.”
Ms. Beatrice pulled Madeline into her chest. “Girl, I am so proud of you.”
“Stop embarrassing the girl,” Leonard said. “You got her turning colors and everything.”
Sure enough, Madeline’s face had taken on a reddish
purple hue. If it had been a little darker, it would have perfectly matched her lips.
* * *
Once we were back in the car, and once Madeline’s face had regained its normal brown color, she said, “It was good seeing Ms. Beatrice. She hasn’t changed a bit.”
“She seems very fond of you.”
Madeline shook her head. “I don’t know why she said all that stuff. She doesn’t even know me anymore.”
“To some people, you’re always going to be sweet, innocent Maddie Smith.”
Madeline shrugged. “Yeah. To some people.”
chapter 8
S
tudying myself in the mirror for the hundredth time, I reminded myself that I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was taking a friend to a party. Not a girlfriend—just a friend.
So being that this wasn’t an official date with an official girlfriend, I figured there was no point in bringing it up with Mom and Dad. They would just make a big deal out of nothing.
The way I saw it, I was doing them a favor.
I entered the kitchen, where my parents were doing their best to pretend they weren’t waiting on me. “You look nice,” Mom said. “Don’t forget Charlotte’s present.”
“I left it in the car. And don’t worry, I got it gift-wrapped.”
“Who’s chaperoning this party again?” Mom asked. “I know Charles and Gladys won’t be there.”
I wiped my forehead. “Um…I’m not sure….”
“Lily, leave the boy alone.” Dad glanced over the top of a Golfsmith catalog. “Have a good time, Joshua.”
I started toward the door, but Mom blocked my path. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat before you leave?” The top of her head was level with the bottom of my chin. “They never have enough food at those parties.”
“Lily!” Dad dropped his catalog and laughed. “Let the boy be.”
Mom smirked back at my father. “He’s a growing boy. He needs to eat.”
With the way my stomach was knotted up, I couldn’t have eaten if I had wanted to. “Really, I’m not hungry.” I leaned over and pecked Mom on the cheek. “Plus, I really need to get out of here.”
“What’s the rush?” Mom winked at me. “You don’t have some secret date you’re not telling us about, do you?”
Mom and Dad laughed. I didn’t.
“I’d better go.” I stumbled toward the door, my feet heavy. “I’ll see you guys tonight.”
It isn’t a date. Madeline said so herself.
“Have a good time, honey,” Mom said. “Don’t stay out too late.”
* * *
My stomach was still in knots when I arrived at Madeline’s aunt’s house. I rang the doorbell, and Ms. Smith
opened the door. “Come in, Joshua. Madeline should be ready in a few minutes.”
Ms. Smith left me in the den while she went to get Madeline. I picked up one of the pictures on the bookcase. It was of Madeline from years ago—tall and skinny, with long black hair and rosy, freckled cheeks. Maybe Madeline didn’t want to admit it, but there were times when she still looked a lot like the girl in the picture.
I returned the photo to the bookcase as Madeline entered the room. She placed her hands on her hips and struck a vogue pose. “So, how do I look?”
“Wow” was all I was able to mutter. Her legs stretched for days, from the tips of her toenails to where her thighs disappeared under a crimson sundress. Three earrings sparkled in each ear, and a silver cross dangled from her neck, surrounded by a sea of brown skin.
Madeline spun in place, causing the dress to billow slightly around her. “Like it?”
I nodded. The dress wasn’t necessarily tight, but it molded itself around every beautiful curve of Madeline’s beautiful body.
She turned to her aunt, who had followed her into the room. “I forgot to charge my cell phone, so I’ll probably have it off, to save juice. I’ve left Joshua’s number on the fridge, if you need to get ahold of me.”
“Great. That means Frank’ll be calling here all—” Ms. Smith caught herself and looked at me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bringing this up.”
“It’s okay. Madeline and I are just friends.” I smiled so
wide the corners of my mouth hurt. “I’ve heard all about Frank.”
“Then you know more about him than I do.” Ms. Smith shook her head. “Y’all have a good time tonight.”
Madeline grabbed her matching red purse from the couch. “You’re not going to ask me what time I’m coming home?”
“You’re going out with Joshua,” Ms. Smith said. “I don’t have to ask.”
Madeline kissed her aunt on the cheek, and we left the house. I stopped Madeline before she could step off the porch. She smelled like vanilla and honeydew and every other sweet scent God ever created.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I asked. “I don’t want to make Frank jealous.”
I hadn’t wanted to ask about Frank, mainly because of my urge to projectile-vomit every time I heard his name. I was hoping they’d break up soon. But how do people who aren’t even an official couple break up?
Madeline readjusted her purse strap on her shoulder. “No offense, but you’re not the type of guy Frank would get jealous over.”
Ouch.
She might as well have kneed me in my crotch. Madeline brought her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, that didn’t come out right. It’s just, you’re such a good guy….”
I waved her off and tried to put on a brave face. “It’s okay. You’re not the first girl who’s said something like that to me.”
“The ex-girlfriend, right?” Madeline sauntered toward
me with a seductive sway. “Want to make her jealous? I’m really good at it.”
Madeline’s chest was literally millimeters away from my body. One light puff of wind was all it’d take for her to brush up against me.
Does she even realize what she’s doing to me? Why am I putting myself through this?
I stepped away from her, trying to keep what little sanity I had. “As much as I’d like to, I don’t think it’d be honest for you to pretend you like me when you really don’t.”
“Who said I’d be pretending?” And then, very quickly, she winked at me.
But then again, maybe she just had dirt in her eye.
* * *
I had washed the car earlier that day, but now Madeline’s sweet scent overtook the pine-scented air freshener I had sprayed all over the seats. I focused my gaze on the road, and tried not to become distracted by how Madeline’s dress slowly inched up her thighs.
Madeline didn’t talk much during the ride; she spent most of the time playing with her necklace or fiddling with the radio. After flipping through a few stations, she settled on oldies.
“I love the old stuff,” she said as Marvin Gaye wailed through the speakers. “It’s so much better than most of the new crap they play nowadays.”
About halfway through the song, my phone rang. Tony sure did know how to pick his moments. Reluctantly, I answered.
“Josh, where are you?” he yelled into the phone. I could hear music—the new crap that Madeline had just put down—blasting in the background.
“We’re on our way now.”
“I need you to stop by the store and pick up something for me.” The music immediately faded away; Tony must have found a quiet room.
I switched hands so I could flip on the signal light. “Sure, what do you need?”
“Condoms.”
I was expecting him to ask me to pick up a bag of ice, not a pack of Trojans. I glanced at Madeline out of the corner of my eye. “And, um, what exactly do you need those for?”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Tony…”
“I swear, if I’d known I’d be needing them, I would have gotten them myself. Charlotte sprang all this on me just a few minutes ago.”
“This is her idea?”
“Yeah. Am I lucky or what?” He paused for a second as the music got louder. “I’ll be there in a second,” he yelled to someone. “Shut the door behind you.”
The music grew quiet again. “I’d go get them myself,” he continued, “but I didn’t drive.”
I glanced at Madeline again. “Tony, this really isn’t a good time.”
There was an angry pause. “For once, can you stop acting like a total choirboy and pretend to be my friend? I’d do the same for you.”
Tony
was
right, he’d do the same for me, although I seriously doubted I’d ever need to depend on him for condoms. “Okay. Fine. Just tell me what brand you want me to get.”
He was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t know. I’ve never bought condoms before.”
“Like I have?”
“Just get some Trojans. Or better yet, why don’t you ask Madeline? Knowing her, she probably has some in her purse.”
I sighed. “Good-bye, Tony. I’ll figure something out.” I hung up before he could say anything else.
Madeline turned to me with a curious expression. “Everything okay?”
I tucked my phone back into my pocket. “I need to stop by the store on the way to the party,” I said, trying to keep my voice normal.
“What do you need?”
“Um…I want to pick up a pack of gum.”
“I’ve got some Big Red,” she said as she opened her purse. I thought about leaning over to take a quick peek inside, to see if she was actually carrying condoms, but before I could, she had already found the gum. She pulled out a piece and offered it to me.
I popped it into my mouth. “Thanks.” As the strong, hot cinnamon flavor settled around my tongue, I noticed a convenience store to my left. Without even tapping the brakes, I swerved into the parking lot.
“Hey!” she yelled as she banged against the door. “How about a little warning?”
“Sorry.” I pulled up to the front of the store. “I want to grab a bottle of water. My throat’s kind of dry.”
“Don’t you think there’ll be water at the party?”
I shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”
“Okaaay.” She opened her door. “Guess I’ll grab something, too.”
“No!” I yelled. “I mean, don’t get out. I’ll get you something—whatever you want.”
She settled into her seat. “Joshua, is something wrong?”
“No, nothing at all. There’s just no point in both of us getting out. That’s all.”
She slowly closed the door. “Well, do me a favor and grab me a Diet Coke.”
“Be back in a second.” I couldn’t get out of my car fast enough.
I rushed into the store. Thankfully, the only person inside was the attendant, an older woman with sandy blond hair and heavy black mascara.
I slowly headed toward the coolers, doing my best to discreetly peruse the aisles. Hormel Chili, NyQuil, SpaghettiOs—this place sold everything
but
condoms.
I grabbed a Diet Coke and a bottle of water, and headed up another aisle. Still no condoms. I moved to another aisle.
“Need help with anything, sweetie?” the attendant asked after I had reached my third aisle. Her voice sounded bored.
“No thanks,” I said. Then I snapped my fingers, as if I
had finally found what I was looking for, and picked up…a quart of motor oil.
I continued around the store, looking and lingering. If I felt like I had stayed in one section for too long, I picked something else up. By the time I had made a complete loop around the store, I had added toothpaste, pliers, and a loaf of bread to my collection.
The attendant cleared her throat as I passed by the front counter. “If you’re looking for the travel packets of medicine, we keep those up here.”
Of course, I wasn’t looking for medicine (although I had the feeling I’d be in desperate need of Pepto before the night was over), but I looked behind her. And there, in between the Marlboro Lights and Sudafed, sat the condom display.
God wasn’t going to make this easy for me.
I shuffled up to her and tossed my items onto the counter. She arched an eyebrow as she began to ring me up, but didn’t say anything.
Finally, she swiped the last item and punched a few buttons on the register. “This it, sweetie?”
The moment of truth.
Not looking at the woman, I nodded vaguely at the rack behind her. “I’d like a pack of…condoms,” I said. Only my words came out more like:
I’d like a pack of…kudms.
“What did you say?” She leaned over the counter. “If you want cigarettes, you’re going to have to show me some ID.”
“No, not cigarettes.” My voice seemed to echo throughout the store. “Condoms.”
She turned around and faced the display. “Which ones you want, sweetie? We got extra-large, extra-thin, lubricated, ribbed, studded…”
Studded?
In my head, all I could see was a condom with a bunch of metal spikes attached to it. “Uh…the lubricated is fine.”