“You don’t have a lot of experience with the cops, do you?” Justin squinted at her in the rearview mirror. “I could tell you were tweaking as soon as I walked in the door.” His voice sounded different to me. Rougher, angry even.
I wanted to ask them what tweaking meant exactly, but I could guess. The rabid look in Naomi’s eyes was hard to miss. I’d spent my entire life fighting to be normal. An array of medication every morning, every six hours, every evening—a prisoner of rashes, headaches, drowsiness, and other fun side effects. All so I could be who everyone else wanted me to be. Nobody ever gave me a choice. But Naomi had a choice, and she didn’t even seem to care.
“Where did you learn to throw punches like that?” Naomi asked.
Justin shrugged, but he gripped the steering wheel harder. I studied their shadowy faces. They were like two strangers to me.
Naomi glanced down at her nails. “I hope they arrest him.”
“Me too,” I said.
She looked up at me and smiled, but I sank into my seat. It wouldn’t be that easy for her this time.
Justin started the car and put a hand on his stomach, wincing. “Let’s hope for the best.”
We pulled up in front of Naomi’s house ten minutes later. Justin didn’t speak or look at us the entire way back. He’d tensed up every time headlights approached from behind.
“Home, sweet home,” Naomi said, shoving my seat forward and squeezing out. “Thanks… Justin.”
He nodded and waved, but kept his eyes forward.
I stared at his profile for a few seconds. His cheek was like marble under the dim streetlights. I swallowed, wincing at my dry throat. “You want to give me a driving lesson tomorrow?”
“I don’t think so, Drea.”
“Why n—”
“I need to go,” he said.
I waited for him to say he didn’t mean right now. Like he did when he drove me home the first time.
“Drea, please just go.” He looked at me, but I couldn’t see his expression. Shadows hovered around his eyes and mouth. “And trust your instincts next time.”
The pizza I’d eaten earlier crept up my esophagus. There was something in his words that made me think I’d never see him again.
I climbed out of the car, and he sped off after I shut the door. No second thoughts. His taillights disappeared into the early morning fog.
M onday, September 17Something has been caught in my throat all day. Heavy. Impossible to dislodge. Naomi left five messages on my cell phone yesterday. I pressed 7 as soon as I heard her voice. Delete. I don’t know what to say to her. I told her I wanted to go home, and she didn’t care. But I cared enough to stay and wait for her. So did Justin. Now he hates us both. He won’t answer his phone or return my calls. He’s not even at school today. I’ve never felt like this before. So empty.Grandma woke me up on the couch yesterday. She tried to get me to repaint the walls and even threatened to kick us out. I couldn’t take it anymore. I asked her why. Why couldn’t I have one thing that makes me feel at home? It’s just a color. But it means the world to me. So we worked out a trade. I keep my walls green, and I have to help her set up a garage sale this weekend.
“I’m sorry.” A backpack slammed onto the table. Naomi hovered above me—in the library of all places.
I flipped my journal shut. Sorry wasn’t enough.
“I’m done, Drea,” she said, yanking out a blue plastic chair and sitting down. “No more Scott. No more partying.”
She sounded like she meant it. But it would be like me saying “no more music.” It didn’t make sense.
“I don’t know if I believe you.”
“I know I really screwed up this weekend, because I’m stupid.” She rested her chin in her hand, covering a yellowing bruise. Her face looked pale and worn. “But he crossed the line. I’m done.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“You’re the only person who gives a shit. The only one I trust.” Her eyes were large and red rimmed. “Please tell me it’s not too late. Tell me there is something I can do.”
I stared back at her for a long time, my lips glued together. She had offered her friendship to me. No questions asked. And I’d lied to her. I wanted to tell her the truth. To start over—reintroduce myself. Hi, I’m Drea. World-class dork. I’m not cool. I’m not even normal. Do you still want to hang out with me? And she could’ve done the same, told me she didn’t have anyone either. If we’d both admitted how alone we were, maybe everything would’ve been different.
But I couldn’t form the words. She trusted me. Nobody had ever said that to me before. Not even my mom. “No more stealing?” I asked finally.
She let out a shaky breath. “No more. I want to focus on music. We rock together, Drea. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Me neither.” I tried to smile, but I didn’t know if it translated to my lips. “Do you know if Scott got arrested?”
“Roger told me it was the old bag upstairs who called the cops, and she calls them, like, nine times a month for stupid shit. Like, one time she thought a stray-cat fight was a kid screaming for help. Anyway, Scott told them he tripped and smacked his nose on the coffee table playing Wii. And they apparently bought it. But who knows.”
“Promise me you won’t see him again?”
Naomi smiled and looped my pinkie with hers. “I won’t even mention his name.”
I wanted to believe her, but an ache in my stomach warned me against it. Still, I didn’t want to lose the first friend I’d made in years or our music. “We decided on M3 for the band. I think I forgot to tell you.”
“I like it—a lot, actually. Where’s Justin?”’
I dug my pen into my notebook, scratching a tiny star in the corner. “He didn’t show up today. I think he hates me.”
“I don’t think that’s it, babe. People don’t run from the cops unless they have something to hide. I told you he seemed a little too nice.”
“He told us why.” My chest felt tight again. I didn’t want Justin to be one of the bad guys, but I couldn’t get his contorted features out of my head.
“Do you know where he lives? Maybe we can drop by after school,” she said.
I shook my head. “I need to find him, Naomi. I need to know.…”
She put her hand over mine. “It’ll be okay. He can’t skip school forever. You’ll get another chance.”
That wasn’t good enough for me. I went to the bathroom before class and left my mom a voice mail, telling her I was going out with Naomi and I’d be home late.
I had an appointment with Jackie during PE. I wished I had the ability to hide my emotions.
“You look troubled today, Drea. Rough weekend?”
I shrugged, trying to stop my knee from jiggling.
“SweeTart?”
I nodded, and she tossed a couple of packs to me.
“How do you know if someone is telling the truth?” I asked, letting the candy sizzle on my tongue.
Jackie’s dark eyes drifted to the ceiling. “That’s a tough question.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’d say the best proof is when their actions back up their words.”
“What if they tell you they aren’t going to do something, and it seems like they really mean it, but your stomach tells you they don’t?”
“I think you’re talking about instinct. Has this person lied before or gone back on a promise?”
“Not exactly. You know how people smile even when they aren’t happy? Like salesclerks?”
Jackie chuckled. “Yes, it’s kind of a silly idea, isn’t it? Smile wide and maybe people will buy more.”