If I Tell Part 8

"A condom?" I said.

His lips turned down. His eyes had bags under them. Maybe I wasn't the only one at the table suffering from a hangover.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you actually didn't like me anymore, Jaz." He smiled, but it wasn't sincere. "But you're a teenager, so I'll pretend you do. You look nice. Cute dress. I like that color on you."

His condescending smile made me sick. I'd only worn the dress to try to please Grandma. I hated it. More now. Simon looked hipper than me in his T-shirt and jeans. A couple of teenage girls at the table next to us actually ogled him.

Simon completely ignored the obvious tension at our table. He joked and touched Mom a few times as he babbled. I stared through him, hating his handsome face, hating his gift of gab. Hating the way he played her. I knew that he'd already done something to hurt her. With Lacey. I just didn't know how far they'd gone.

"G.o.d. I wish I could have a drink," Mom said when he finally paused for a breath.

"Go ahead," I snapped. "It's not like you're getting nominated for a Mother of the Year award."

In the background people talked and cutlery clinked. The silence at our table was louder.

"Hey," Simon said. "Your mom wouldn't drink in her condition. She's going to be a great mom. She already is." He reached out and stroked her hand.

I wanted to barf.

"How do you know?" Mom asked and pulled away. "I didn't even raise her." She pointed at me. "She doesn't even like me."

I stared down at the table and forced myself not to apologize or rea.s.sure her. I loved her, but right then I didn't care. Why should I be the only one who hurt?

"That was different," Simon said. "You were very young. And you've always been there for Jaz. You have a great relationship." I glanced up. He shot a look at me that made my insides wince, but I didn't flinch.

"Appreciate that you still have your mom around to talk to, Jaz. I miss my mom every single day."

Mom sniffled. Simon opened his eyes wider, trying to send me a message, but I ignored him. I was sorry his mom had died, but that had nothing to do with my situation.

The waiter stepped into our s.p.a.ce. Must be a slow night because he seemed to be enjoying the show. Simon ordered a beer, and the waiter went to get it.

"Hair of the dog?" I asked politely.

"What? The beer? Nah. I'm too old to get drunk anymore." He sheepishly glanced at Mom. "Well, maybe once in a while, like the night I found out I was becoming a dad."

Yeah. I'd seen him drunk, his lips all over my best friend.

"Anyways. I heard you were the one having a good time last night." He wiggled his eyebrows. "Nathan your new boyfriend?"

"No. He is not." I willed him to shut his mouth.

He grinned. "Damien said Nathan had his arm around you at a party, that's all." He winked. "Oh, and there might have been some kissing."

I almost pa.s.sed out with embarra.s.sment.

"Really?" Mom asked, finally looking interested in something other than her own misery. "Is that true?" She sat up and her grumpy expression softened.

I narrowed my eyes. The last thing I wanted to talk about was Nathan. "Tell Damien to mind his own business. Just because he's your brother doesn't mean he gets to spy on me."

Simon held up his hands. "Hey. Sorry, kid. I was just having some fun with you."

"Nathan's that skinny kid who lives with Lacey? Isn't he a little old for you? He doesn't seem like your type."

I scrunched my nose. "I don't have a type. Unlike you, I'm not addicted to a color." I reached for my water and took a sip. I did not want to be having this conversation.

"Hey, your mother's taste in men is awesome." Simon grinned. "Once you go black, you never go back."

"Gross."

"Jaz." Mom sounded amused. "It's okay to have fun at your age. Boyfriends are normal. Just be careful."

I squeezed my eyes closed and covered my ears. "Shut up!"

"Hey." Mom threw her napkin at my head.

I fumed.

"We're only teasing." Her brows furrowed.

"You've been mad at me since you found out your mom and me are having a baby." Simon reached over and folded a hand over Mom's. She didn't pull away.

"You're an important part of the baby's life, Jaz. A big sister. I'm not going to come between you and your mom." He spoke in a soothing tone, as if I were a child.

I snorted. He already had. I pushed back on the chair and stood. I turned to my mom. "I could not care less about you or your stupid baby. I feel sorry for it. You're the worst mother in the world. And, Simon, bite me."

I rushed from the table. My best high heels flapped on my feet as I scooted past people eating dinner and looking up at me surprised. I fled the restaurant, afraid that if I turned back and saw my mom's expression, I'd run back to say I was sorry, that I didn't mean it. But if I turned back, I might blurt out what I'd seen. Instead, I ran. Again.

chapter seven.

Ashley shifted the stick shift on her car and glanced at me. A truck sped past us in the other lane, bright lights momentarily blinding me. The flash of the headlights lit up the purple tips of her hair.

"Thanks for picking me up," I said.

Thank G.o.d, she'd been home. I'd been nervous calling her since, until now, we hadn't had the "I'm stranded. Can you pick me up on the side of the road?" kind of friendship. But she was the only person I could think of, and I'd been close to her neighborhood. She'd said she'd come without even hesitating.

"No big deal. Not like I was all booked up on a Sunday night. Homework can wait, and you sounded kind of desperate. What's up?"

I leaned my head against the window of her car. "G.o.d. My freakin' life is a mess."

"Welcome to the club," she said, but she grinned. "You want to talk about it?"

I sighed, not unaware that this was my second deep conversation inside a car in as many days. I wanted to talk about it. But I couldn't.

"Not really."

She nodded and didn't pry. Ashley was good that way. She didn't try to force things out of me if I didn't want to share.

"So. Where to?" she asked.

I shook my head, unable to decide. I didn't want to go home yet. Grandma would have too many questions.

"I had a fight with my mom and Simon," I said instead of coming up with a destination. I watched out the window as we pa.s.sed by the other high school, the one with the state champion football team. The school Ashley used to go to until they managed to chase her out. The pool she swam at stood beside it. The same pool from fourth grade. I looked away.

When I didn't say more, Ashley spoke. "I hate fighting with my dad. But it happens all the time."

I knew Ashley's mom had died of breast cancer seven or so years back, but she didn't like to talk about her mom any more than I liked to talk about my dad.

"Yeah? How come?" I asked.

"He has a hard time. You know. With me being gay. He struggles with it. I used to be his little princess. That's what he thought anyway. He didn't know his princess was hoping that the frog she was kissing would turn out to be a beautiful princess instead of a prince."

I laughed and Ashley did too. But then she fell silent as we pulled up to a red light. "I can't bring home my girlfriend. He won't deal with it."

"You have a girlfriend?"

The light changed, and she glanced at me again before her eyes went to the road and she put her foot on the gas. "Marnie O'Reilly."

I gasped out loud. "Marnie is gay?" I shouted.

Ashley laughed. "Apparently."

"Holy cow, I had no idea," I sputtered stupidly.

Luckily Ashley wasn't offended. "Marnie is pretty private. We don't advertise."

I nodded, still blown away. Thinking about it, I'd never seen Marnie with a guy. Another person I thought I'd known but didn't know at all. "So why weren't you at her party last night?"

"After swim practice I had to go to a dinner thing with my dad and his girlfriend. Keep up appearances, you know. He likes to pretend we're fine."

I nodded. I didn't want to tell her about my night at Marnie's. Or about Nathan.

"What about you?" she said as if she'd read my mind. "You seeing anyone?"

I snorted but an image of Jackson's face appeared in my head. "As if," I said.

"As if what?" she asked.

"Who'd want to go out with me?"

"You're kidding, right?" she asked.

I didn't say anything. We pulled up to another set of lights, and Ashley stopped but then flipped on her blinker and turned right. I had no idea where we were going.

"With that gorgeous hair, that face, and those eyes?"

"You have no idea how much each of those qualities has tormented me since birth." My eyes were a funny color. Not dark brown or even green. Rusty. Like a rotting old car.

"You want to go for coffee somewhere?" I asked to change the topic. I looked out on the streets. We were in a residential area but getting closer to farmland.

"Nah. I like to drive around when I'm in think mode. You mind?"

I shook my head. It was kind of nice, driving in the dark with nowhere to go or be.

"You realize you have some serious self-esteem issues," Ashley said.

I laughed, but I wiggled in my seat, uncomfortable. "Yeah. Well, you try being biracial in this town. No one wants anything to do with me." I tried to keep my voice light, as if it didn't matter. She turned down another street, and a group of young boys were playing hockey on the street. They pulled the net away from the middle of the road so we could pa.s.s.

Ashley made a noise in her throat. "That's not true. You keep people at a distance. You don't let anyone in. I mean, even me, and we're friends."

My blood boiled just a bit. "You don't have any idea," I told her. I glanced over my shoulder. The hockey game had resumed.

"So tell me," she said.

I bit my lip, wishing life was that simple still, and swiveled back around.

"You can talk to me. We're friends."

I smiled at that. I wanted to tell her, I did. My sanity was pretty much hanging by my chewed-up nails. I closed my eyes, struggling with the memories that wanted to stay buried.

"It's okay, Jaz."

My stomach fluttered and I took a deep breath, not sure if it was fear or excitement making me feel nauseous. I wanted to tell someone. Share my shame.

"Everyone stopped paying attention to me a long time ago." I closed my eyes, hearing the taunting voices from my past.

"What happened?" Ashley said softly.

I opened my eyes and looked at Ashley's profile. Her hazel eyes sparkled with compa.s.sion.

I wanted to trust her. Let her in. Tell someone what had happened. We drove to the end of the street and turned onto an unpaved road. Without streetlights it was spooky and darker.

"When I was in fourth grade, I almost drowned at the pool because of the efforts of the entire fourth grade. They wouldn't let me get to the side. And after that, they started ignoring me. I don't keep people at a distance. They stay there on their own."

"Your fourth-grade cla.s.s almost drowned you?" Loose rocks sprayed the back b.u.mper of Ashley's car, and she swore. "Stupid unpaved road."

She did a sudden U-turn, and we started back to the residential area. I stared out the window. "We were taking swimming lessons. The whole fourth grade. It was the last day. Free time. They started taunting me. It started out with a couple of kids, and then more came. A crowd mentality took over or something. Bullying at its finest, I guess. They trapped me in the middle and wouldn't let me get to the side while they chanted that my skin was dirtying up the pool. I slipped under and stopped breathing. The lifeguard had to resuscitate me."

We rolled over a b.u.mp and back onto the paved road.

"No wonder you're afraid of the water," Ashley said.