Castles On The Sand Part 16

He rolls his eyes.

"No, seriously. What?"

"You and Alex buddies, then?"

"What are you talking about? I've known him just as long as I've known you."

"Minus the months he's spent in juvie, so not as long."

"Okay, fine, you want to talk to me, talk to me. Don't pick a fight with him."

"Can you keep it down?" says Alex.

I ignore him and round on Carson. "Seriously, what did I do? I am here with you, holding your hand, okay?"

"Very charitable of you."

I pull my hand out of his. "I don't do charity." I get up and walk out.

As soon as I'm squinting in the bright lights of the lobby, I wonder why I did that. Was Carson right to get his feelings hurt? Did I seem to be flirting with Alex? I laughed at his jokes, and I have to admit that I do think he's gorgeous. But I also think he's a psycho, and furthermore, he's not interested in me. Or did Carson think that he is?

Suddenly the lobby feels stifling too. I head out into the parking lot, where the fresh air feels glorious, as if I've been in a sauna for two hours. There's a light mist in the air and everything smells like damp earth and asphalt.

"Madison?"

I turn to see Carson coming out the front door.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he says.

"I wouldn't hold hands with you if I didn't want to."

"Sure you would. You're nice like that. You don't like hurting people's feelings." Somehow he makes a compliment sound like an insult.

I don't know how to respond.

He folds his arms across his chest and says, "I have never heard Alex talk that much to anyone. I didn't know he told jokes, like ever."

"Carson..."

"It was weird. I'm sorry. I was surprised. Since when are you two friends?"

"We aren't friends. And I thought he talks to everyone these days."

"A little bit. He doesn't hold conversations, or like in there? He was talking more than you were."

"So what are you trying to say?"

"What am I trying to say? Okay... I'm trying to say I'm sorry, and I'm trying to explain why I said what I did."

"Apology accepted."

People start to come out of the theater, and before long, the rest of the Mormon herd are arrayed around us. Alex stands slightly back.

"Okay, let's go home," says Carson.

LaDell turns to Alex. "Can I get a ride with you? You live closer to me."

He nods.

I wave goodbye to her just like everyone else does, and then the rest of us get into the MAV and again, for the ride home, I sit across from Carson, who puts his full attention into driving, signaling at every single turn. There is silence in the back, and I can't tell if it's stoney silence or just exhausted silence. It is pretty late.

Carson drops me off first, and again, I don't know whether to read anything into that or not. He does walk me to the door and we shake hands, which I find weird, but in a good way. I don't want to kiss him, even on the cheek, in front of the other girls. I'm not sure I want to at all.

What I really want to do is call Kailie and gossip, but there's no way I can. She'd just play more mindgames.

I step inside and my gaze falls on Mom, who sits at the kitchen table, looking at me like I reek of garbage and excrement. "I let you do pretty much anything you want, and you're joining up with the Mormons?"

"No, I haven't joined them. It was a movie night," I explain.

"It was Mutual."

"Huh? No... I think they said mutual, or whatever you call it, was cancelled. Carson asked me out."

"It's John, isn't it?"

"What? No-"

"Has he been in touch with you?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Why? Why do you talk to him?"

"I don't really. He emails me."

"He emails you what?"

"He tells me about our family and stuff. It's no big deal."

"Your family are a bunch of Mormons."

"They're still my relatives. I'm not gonna go to church with them. I just want to know who they are."

"Toxic, weak minded sheep who follow their cheerful leader. They claim to have a prophet, did you know that? One guy in Salt Lake City who talks to G.o.d and tells everyone else what to do."

"Yeah, I kind of looked that stuff up. Definitely not gonna join the religion, so don't worry about it."

"Mormons hate women, all right? They're misogynists. They believe your place is home, pregnant, with a lot of craft projects so that you can pretend you matter to the world but you don't."

"I'm not gonna marry Carson or join the Church, so it's all good."

"I said the exact same thing about James. Oh, I'll never marry him. I'm no one and he could have anyone. I'd be lucky to end up with him. Then at eighteen I'm living in a studio apartment with twins on the way and that's it. That's my life."

"Okay, stop. Getting ahead of ourselves here."

She buries her face in her hands. "I did not escape from that life to have you turn right around and waltz back in."

"I am not going to church with them!" I shout. "Stop lecturing me and listen. I am not looking for a relationship with G.o.d. I went on a date with Carson. There's a difference."

Mom gets to her feet. "How often do you talk to John?"

"I don't know. He emails me. Sometimes I email back."

For a moment she just stares at me, her eyes narrowing, then she lunges across the room and slaps me across the face. Pain explodes across my still tender nose and sinuses and I find myself clinging to the fridge door handle to keep from falling down. I must have stumbled into it after Mom's blow. "Mom..."

She curses, then ducks out the back door.

Papers flutter in her wake and I s.n.a.t.c.h one out of the air. It's a cancelled rent check. The others on the floor prove to be other canceled checks, but I take a closer look at one and see that it's actually a bounced check. Mom's overspent her bank balance again. I pick them all up a a headache beginning to throb behind my eyes a and stack them neatly on the table again. I hate it when mom hits me. She never does it hard enough to leave a mark, but it stings to have the one person I live with hate me so much that she resorts to violence.

It makes me feel like a stranger in my home, an intruder, someone who isn't welcome. When I walk back to my room, I can't even sit down on my bed, I perch on the edge and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The two black eyes have faded into just dark circles, but I wonder if they'll purple up again.

Out in the back yard, I sense more than hear her potters wheel start up. I hope that calms her down.

And I really wish I could call Kailie. I flip through my pitifully short list of phone contacts and stop on John's name. A glance at the clock tells me it's eleven p.m., which means it's midnight in Utah. My thumb hesitates, then punches the send key.

One ring and I feel like I'm being rude. Two and I feel like I'm taking a bad night and making it a million times worse. Three and I get ready to hang up.

"h.e.l.lo?" says a sleepy voice.

"Hi."

"Mmm, hi. Who's this?"

"It's Madison."

"Madison?" He says my name as if I'm a movie star who just called him at home. "Really? How are you? It is so good to hear your voice."

"I'm sorry to call so late," I say.

"I love you," is John's reply.

"Thanks."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I lie.

"If you say so."

"Yeah, I'm sorry to bother you. I should just get to bed."

"Whoa, hang on. What did I say wrong?"

"Why do you always have to be such a know-it-all?"

"I am? Feels like I know nothing. Especially about you."

"But when I say nothing's wrong-"

"You called me at midnight on Wednesday sounding like your puppy died. I may not be super-intuitive, but I can tell something's wrong, but you know what? You don't have to tell me anything. It's your life. I respect that."

"I went out with Carson tonight."

"That mean things are over with Jean-Pierre?"

"I don't know. That's kind of complicated."

"I'm sorry. Carson's a nice guy, though. He's got a real thing for you. The way he talks about you-"

"When do you talk to Carson?"

"We talked when he drove me to the bus stop."

"Oh, right."

"Yeah. He asked if I thought you'd ever be interested, but I told him, it's your call and even if you do like him, he'll never be good enough to date you. No one will."

"This is Carson."

"Mmm-hmm."

"His dad's a bishop."

"Which is good for his dad, but who cares?"

"He's, like, straight-laced Mormon Boy."

"I know who he is, okay? I've spent time at his house and eaten at his family's Grille."

"He came over to see me the night after he dropped you off at the bus station."

"Oh yeah?"

"Did you tell him to do that?"

"No, I'm not like that. You are the most amazing person I've ever known. It's not like you need any help attracting guys."

My tear ducts burn and my vision blurs. "Why do you say stuff like that? You barely know me."