Pieces of Us (17 page)

Alex

W
e pull into Katie and Julie’s driveway, and their dad is the first one I see.

He stares at Kyle and me like he’s sizing us up. “Boys,” he says, nodding. “Good to see you both again.” Then he sticks out his hand. That thing’s got muscle. Who would have thunk it, with that paunch? I guess there has to be something besides the gut to keep Anna around.

Kyle puts his hand out first. He’s good like that. “You too, Sir.” Sir! Poser.

I wait a second too long, and Mr. T eyes me harder and puts his hand down. “Julie is inside,” he says to Kyle.

“Thank you,” says Kyle, all polite and shit, and lugs his duffel bag up the porch.

I move to go too, and Mr. T puts his arm on my shoulder. “I care about Katie, okay?”

Well, fuck, I care about her too. What kind of asshole does he think I am? I tense and want to rip his arm off. “I care about her, too.”

“She’s … she’s … ” He pauses and takes his hand off my shoulder. Spit it out, old man! “Look, she seems like she has no worries or problems, and I don’t know if that’s true or not. But don’t give her any shit, okay? Sometimes she looks breakable. Don’t break her. Got it?”

What the hell? I don’t even know where to go with this. I want to tell him I waited to have sex with her. I could have taken her that night she was trashed, but I didn’t. She’s different. “I got it,” I say, and head up to the house with my duffel bag. Anna honks the horn and yells at him to get in the car, but I still feel Papa’s eyes on my back. I don’t turn around.

Katie ambushes me at the door, throwing her skinny arms around my neck. “What took you so long?” I hear the car peel away.

“Your dad and I were having a heart-to-heart.”

She laughs like she doesn’t believe me. “Whatever. Just glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, me too, baby.” I squeeze her back and feel her bones through her thin sweater. How come I never noticed before? I lighten my grip. What if she really could break that easily?

Speaking of breaking, I need out. Where are Anna’s fuck-me eyes when I need them? I’ll take them over Daddy Dearest’s warden impersonation any day. “Ready to jet? I hear you have mad cool malls in Jersey.”

Katie

Y
ou weren’t kidding about the mall,” says Alex. “Not bad.”

I shrug. “It’s fine, but they’re changing things here everyday. Can’t depend on any store staying.”

“Sweet!” he says, dragging me to Radio Shack. I follow him around and look at gadgets I don’t understand while he waxes poetic on the many ways to use a cell phone and how easy it is to record things these days. As if I didn’t know.

When I see him losing steam, I lure him to the exit with kisses. “My turn,” I say pulling him into the Disney Store. An employee dressed as Prince Charming carries in an armful of princess dresses and hangs them on a rack beside me. When I was little, my mother bought me every princess dress made. She has photos of me in Cinderella slippers, dress, and crown; Snow White blue ribbon, puffy dress, and shoes; Sleeping Beauty, Little Mermaid, all of them. When they came out with a new style, she bought me that one, too. I loved it. I
was
that girl. The one who’d tell people she’d be a princess when she grew up. Not Julie. Julie wanted to be a doctor. A police woman. When she was in fifth grade, it was a foreign ambassador.

I pick up one of the dresses now. It’s lavender and that shiny, crinkly material. They must make them in larger sizes now—for the girls who have never given up on the princess dream—because it goes down to my ankles. “What do you think?” I ask Alex, twirling around.

He raises his eyebrows at me and licks his lips. Funny what turns guys on. “I will have to protect you with my large, princely sword.”

I see Prince Charming lean in to hear more. Alex sees too and winks at me. “She only plays with my sword,” he says to Charming, who turns red and scurries away.

“You’re bad,” I giggle, putting the dress back on the rack.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“Oh yeah?” I say, pulling him behind a six-foot display of Mickey Mouse and his friends. “You been holding back?” I kiss him hard, and almost feel bad Daisy and Minnie have to witness such behavior.

“You’re so hot,” he murmurs against my neck. “Didn’t think you were into the whole voyeur thing.”

“You’d be surprised. Katie
loooves
the whole voyeur thing,” says a voice behind me, and Alex and I jump apart. My skin burns.

She laughs, like she was making a joke.

“Oh, does she now?” says Alex, pulling me to him again, thinking Marissa is really just busting on me. But I’m a voiceless statue.

“You’re not going to introduce me, Kate? I’m Marissa.” She extends her serpentine hand. I move my head to look at her, and there’s something off about her. Her eyes dance, unfocused. Her cheeks look a little more hollow than before break.

“Alex,” he says, shaking her hand.

“The pictures didn’t lie,” she says, moving herself too close to him. Alex tenses. He moves closer to me and puts his arm around my shoulder. I shake under his touch.

He eyes Marissa again, taking her in. “Well, Katie and I need to jet. Nice meeting you.”

Marissa grips my wrist.
Chris holding my wrists tight.
“Do you really have to go? I really needed to talk to you about something. Girl stuff.” She bats her eyes at Alex.

Alex holds on to my other arm, like it’s a Katie tug-of-war. He’s stronger, but Marissa has some evil sorceress potion up her sleeve. She will find me later if I leave now. I smile at Alex. “It’s all right. I’ll be out in a few.” Then I kiss him extra long for good measure, hoping his Charming kiss can stave off Marissa’s powers.

“What’s up?” I ask, when Alex leaves to sit on the bench outside the store.

She twirls her oily hair; her eyes dancing some more. She laughs. “Not much. How about you? Things going super swell?”

What does she want? I think of the voyeur comment. Could she know about that afternoon with Ethan and Chris? No, Ethan wouldn’t be that stupid. Nothing good would come from him telling Marissa. What then? I bide time, try to be nice. “All’s good. For you too, it seems. I can tell Ethan really likes you.” I smile my big, peppy cheerleader grin.

“Lucky, lucky me.” She paces.

I think of how to calm her. I think of touching her arm to steady her, but can see her baring her teeth and snapping at it. She smacks her lips as if reading my thoughts.

I glance at the bench. Alex is watching us. He looks ready to pounce himself. He must see there’s something wrong with her, too.

“Nothing you want to talk to me about?” she asks, face too close to mine.

Is this about Mr. Stevens? Is she afraid I’ll tell? “Like what?”

“‘Like what,’” she mimics. “Look, bitch.” Her voice drops to a growl. “Don’t play with me. I didn’t forget that you know. That was a good show in the caf the other day.” Spit flies out of her mouth. “But what
you
don’t know”—she giggles, like we’re two friends at a sleepover—“is that I know stuff, too.”

I lean on Mickey’s arm. From the corner of my eye, I see Alex walking toward the store.
What does she know?
Ethan said she’s just making stuff up.

“So, here’s the plan. If you open your trap—if
anyone
finds out
anything
—that dreamy boy of yours will know the kind of whore you really are. Got that,
my Pyramid Girl
?” And the way she says it, it’s just the way Ethan said it that night. She
has
to know. But how?

My mouth opens and closes without sound. I feel Alex at my side. “What did you say to her?” he shouts at Marissa.

“Nothing,” I manage to say. “I just need to eat something.”

“That would be a good idea,” says Marissa, voice chock full of Sweet’N Low again. “Take care.”

Alex clenches a fist. “What’s with that bitch?”

But I can barely focus over images coming at me. Chris and Ethan are everywhere. The benches, the floor, the fake plants.
Tell me you like it. Say you CHOSE to be here. Have you been practicing?
Their voices are around me, in my head. Then the words:
Whore, skank, bitch.
The storefront windows are covered with them too. It all plays on repeat and there is no escape.

Julie

W
hen the house is empty except for me and Kyle, I grab his hand.

“The parents will be gone all night,” I whisper. It’s funny. For all Mama’s talk about the lake houses being too Russian, and never speaking Russian to me and Katie, she always celebrates New Year’s Eve big—Russian style.

“That’s good,” says Kyle. “Your mother freaks me out. She’s like a cartoon character. When she speaks, it’s almost as if I can see her words as blocks of ice hanging in the air.”

I open my mouth to defend her, but why? He’s right.

“Let me show you my room,” I say, dragging him. It’s moments like these that I work hardest to ignore what Mama thinks because what teenage boy wouldn’t be stoked at the idea of a night alone with his girlfriend? What guy wouldn’t be running up those stairs ahead of me, stripping off his clothes as he sprinted? I guess I can’t have everything—the sensitive, funny guy and also the one who wants to rip your clothes off.

In my room, I push him down on my bed and pull at his shirt. I move my hand over his jeans. He moans. I work harder. “Julie,” he says, his voice wanting. “Julie.” Moans. He pulls me to him and kisses me deep and hard. His breathing is heavy as he undoes the buttons of my shirt and we both take our shirts off. He gets on top of me, and I like the feel of the rough rub of his jeans against my stomach, of his heart beating quickly against my own. Soon, his breathing and heart slow, and when I look at him, he’s smiling.

He’s happy. Like no-care-in-the-world happy, not his usual look that’s clouded with too much thinking.

“That was,” he says, breathing hard, “that was … ”

“Awesome,” I say.

Alex

I
finish two burgers and Katie is picking at a lettuce leaf, still pale as all hell. That Marissa chick was no doubt a whack job, but Katie won’t talk.

“You want me to beat her up?” I ask, trying to get her to smile.

She stares at her salad, then around the room like she’s waiting for someone to ambush her. She doesn’t look at me at all. I wave my hand in her face, and she finally looks up.

“You want to leave?” she says. But she makes no move to go. It’s almost like she’s asking if I want to leave
her
. Could that be what she’s asking? What the hell did that cunt say
to her?

“Talk to me. It can’t be that bad,” I say. She puts her face in her hands. “C’mon. Don’t make me use my sword.” Still no smile. Christ.

“You’ll hate me,” she whispers.

“No chance,” I say. And I mean it, because what could she possibly say that would make me hate her?

She takes a deep breath. “Before we were, like, how we are now … like, back when we didn’t ask each other about what happened, when you did your thing and I did mine … ” She bites her lip. I know where this is going, and I suck in air.

“You were with someone else. Fine. I get it.” I don’t like hearing it, but that was the plan. I was with plenty of hos, too. It was part of the rules. But it’s done. “But you’re not with anyone now, right?”

She shakes her head no.

“Okay, then. Moving on, right?” I take her hands, and she’s still shaking.

She shakes her head no again. “Back then, back then … ” Her voice gets choked up and she stutters on the words.

“Forget it. I don’t care.” What the hell is she going to say?

“Just let me say this. So, there was this night. I drank too much. This girl, Leah, she’s our captain … ” Like I give a fuck who she is. “Had this vodka. I did too many shots. They gave me other pretty shit to drink. I know I shouldn’t have gone along with it, but it was supposed to be this big thing because I became Pyramid Girl.” What the hell is Pyramid Girl? “I didn’t know what was going on.”

Fuck. Is this why she didn’t want to drink, this past summer?

She’s crying harder and hiccuping, and when she gets herself together and opens her mouth to speak, she starts all over again. People are staring at us, like
I
did something to her. I told her father I wouldn’t break her.

Nothing could be worth this. It’s not like she slept with anyone else. So she might have done some other borderline stuff. Maybe danced around naked or some shit. I can get past that. I know I can get past that, especially if she was trashed. I give her an out.

“So, you did some crap you wish you hadn’t?”

She hiccups and nods.

“Because you were drunk?”

She nods again.

“And now this Marissa cunt is holding something over you?”

She’s like a bobblehead doll.

I take a deep breath. “It happens. You were trashed. I don’t care.”

She opens her mouth, and I put my finger against it. “Sssh,” I say. “It will be okay.” But her eyes flash scared. “I love you. There’s nothing you could have done that would change that.”

The grateful look on Katie’s face, the face that minutes ago thought I was going to dump her, is awesome. “We’re good then?” I ask. She stares at me. “Nothing else you want to tell me, right?”