How I Lost You (11 page)

I wasn't sure I wanted him to be putty in my hands. “No,” I said. “No way am I wearing those shoes.”

She laughed and got to her feet. “You're such a high-heel virgin.”

“Well, my life kind of imitates my shoe status.”

She waggled her eyebrows up and down. “Well. You're kind of like a balloon. All you need is one good prick.” We both giggled. She smacked her lips together, making a loud popping sound.

“Kya!” I said, and my cheeks warmed.

She grinned. “Look at you. All blushy and nervous. Oh my God. If you're not careful, you're going to lose it very soon.” She tossed her shoes back into the closet. “Fine. Slutty shoes, you are banished back to the closet.”

I giggled.

“Take the shirt,” she said. “But don't get any stains on it,” she warned.

“You calling me a klutz?” I wondered if she realized she worried more about her clothes than she did about herself.

“Yes,” she answered. “I am. From the day we met and you fell on top of me. Klutz.”

I giggled again, feeling a case of the uncontrollable sillies coming on. Where suddenly everything seemed ridiculously funny. The tingling in my stomach was a combination of nerves and maybe anticipation.

“And don't let him get fingerprints all over the front of it. Make him wipe his hands before he touches you.” She squinted, trying to look mean and intimidating.

Another giggle exploded from a nervous, giddy place inside me.

She ignored it. “Wear your new pink push-up bra,” she commanded. “The one that makes your boobs look big.”

“You should wear your sports bra, the one that makes your boobs look small,” I told her. Kya rolled her eyes but smiled.

“Lucas'll be all, ‘What happened to that righteous rack?'” I snorted, imitating his voice.

She pushed me back on the bed and I laughed harder. She bounced onto the bed, jumping up and down. “Yeah, and Levi'll be all, ‘Whoa, she must have had a boob job this morning. Score!'” She pumped her fist in the air and imitated Levi.

“I could get some of those watery, jelly things and stick them in my bra. I think my mom had some.”

She made a face. Her family did not have to worry about bust enhancements.

“Those squishy things? She wore them to a party once to prove to my dad that bigger boobs would make her more popular with his friends.”

“Did they?”

“Of course.”

She laughed. “Figures. So Levi'll be all trying to cop a feel at the movie and then he'll pull out a squishy boob and start screaming because he'll think your boob job was botched and he pulled it off.” We both laughed harder, the uncontrollable kind that hurts your cheeks and your belly at the same time. I held on to my side, shaking my head back and forth.

“And his hands would be all buttery and salty from popcorn…so the thing will stick to it…and he'll be all jumping from his seat, waving his hands around, and screaming, ‘Get it off, get it off,'” I managed to add in, and we both giggled harder.

“And some guy in the audience will yell, ‘Serves you right for trying to get off during the movie!'”

We laughed hysterically until we were almost crying, and then we were laughing about laughing and it went on and on.

“I have to pee, I have to pee,” Kya groaned, holding her stomach and jumping to her feet. The look on her face made me laugh harder.

After she ran out of her room, I lay back on her bed, letting my giggles subside with some last-minute hiccups. I breathed deeply to get myself back in control.

By the time Kya came back from the bathroom, we were both back to normal. I slid off her bed. She smiled and reached for my hand. “He better treat you right or I'll kick his ass all the way across town.”

“Tell Lucas the same thing.”

She smiled and her cell phone rang. She let my hand go and grabbed the phone. She stared at it and then made a face and put it down.

“You going to answer that?” I asked.

She frowned, wrinkled up her nose, and shook her head. My frivolous mood faded. I almost stopped breathing. My heart thudded.

“Was it…”

She turned away from me. “No,” she said, her voice hard. “It wasn't her. She doesn't have my cell number. You should go. Start getting ready for your big night.” She went to her bed and picked up her blouse. “Take care of this,” she said and handed it to me. She forced a smile. “Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.”

I let that slide. “You want to come over and eat ice cream and Nerds with me?”

“No. The thought of food makes me sick. I'm going to lie down for a while. Cat nap. Get rid of the last of this hangover.”

I turned to leave her room. “Hold on a second,” she called. She went to her dresser and opened her jewelry box.

She pulled something out and held up her hand. “Catch. You might need this.” She threw something at me. I grabbed it. A square, slippery package. A condom. I screeched and threw it back at her. She laughed as it fell to the floor.

“Have fun,” she said. “I want to hear all about it later.”

I hoped she meant it. That we'd have a gab session and trade stories about our dates. Then she practically pushed me out the door without another word. I chewed my lip.

I wanted to ask her who was on the phone, but she wouldn't tell me unless she wanted to. No use pissing her off or making her even sadder.

 

I took a deep breath and started down the stairs.

“Look at you!” Mom called from the kitchen sink and wolf-whistled while she washed dishes. She grinned and sang, “You're sexy and seventeen.” Then she stopped and sighed as she placed a pan in the drainer. “I remember the days when my arms didn't flop in the air like bloated dead fish.”

My toned, muscular arms and shoulders were a secret source of pride for me, but not for the first time, I wished my mom could be a little more traditional, a little less stand-up comedian.

“She looks beautiful,” Dad said from his chair in the living room that faced the stairs. The chair was well worn and older than I was and had crackling leather, but Dad came from a long line of men who ruled over a man-chair. No one else sat in it and he wouldn't let my mom replace or refinish it. Even though it was out of place with the new furniture, she'd obviously made peace with the necessity of accommodating it long ago.

“Even though the shorts you girls wear these days are kind of obscene,” Dad mumbled, looking at me over the top of his reading glasses.

I reached for the hem of my shorts and pulled down.

“Oh, George, they're no worse than the miniskirts in the seventies,” Mom said.

“You were a baby in the seventies,” Dad said, rustling around the newspaper he was reading and peering at her over it. “In your teen years, it was grunge.”

“I miss my Doc Martens and belly shirts,” she said. “No, wait, I miss my flat belly. You should have seen my belly before babies, Grace. You could have bounced a penny off it.” She plunged her hands back into bubbles to wash another pot. “Anyhow, George, you should be immune to short-shorts, considering you worked with prostitutes for a living.”

“Seriously?” I said to both of them as I stepped onto the hardwood. They looked at me as if they'd forgotten I was there.

“I wasn't the one to imply in any way that you look like a prostitute,” Dad said, but he laughed.

“Sorry,” Mom said. “You look grown-up. Lovely. Nothing like a hooker.” She wiped her hands on the tea towel draped over her shoulder.

“Judith.” Dad lifted his paper up in front of his face to hide.

Mom giggled and clapped her hands together. “This is your first date with this boy! Do we like him?”

I refused to play along and ignored her.

“If I was a good mom, I'd turn this occasion into a scrapbook page.”

“You burn yourself anytime you get near a glue gun,” Dad called from behind the newspaper.

She laughed, probably at the thought of herself armed with a glue gun. Some of her friends had a scrapbooking club and she tried to keep up, but she was hopeless at it.

“Mom! Do not embarrass me in front of Levi.” I walked into the living room and plopped down on the loveseat opposite my dad, sitting up stiffly so as not to wrinkle my clothes or mess my hair.

“Oh! We do like him!” Mom threw her hand over her heart and sang out, “Oh Levi, Levi. Where art thou, Levi?”

“Mom.” I gave her my dirtiest look.

She slowly stopped laughing and stared at me with a mock-serious expression. “Have I ever in my life embarrassed you?” She dunked her hand back in the soapy water and pulled out the drain stopper.

“Can you try to control her?” I asked, turning to my dad.

He glanced up from his paper.

“Me?” Mom interrupted. “Your dad's the one who's going to give him a pat-down before he lets you get into a car with him.”

Dad slowly folded his newspaper and put it down on his lap. “No. I have finely honed self-restraint skills. I'm comfortable with Grace's instincts. If she thinks a boy is nice enough to go out on a date with, then I trust her judgment.” He pushed down on the leg rest of his chair and sat up straight. “Besides, I called in a favor with some boys on the force and had a check done on Levi Jordan Lewis. I know everything about him, including the kind of gun he prefers to use in woodsball.”

“You did not?” I shouted, wondering if Jordan really was Levi's middle name.

He chuckled and picked up his cup of coffee from the end table beside him and sipped.

I turned back to the kitchen. “Mom! Is he serious?”

“What'd I tell you?” She walked from the kitchen and came and sat on the couch beside me, picking up the remote and switching on the television.

“Oh my God,” I yelled. They both looked at me with the same innocent expression.

“Gracie,” Dad finally said, and laughter was audible in his voice. “I'm kidding. Indie told me he plays woodsball.”

Mom giggled. “Look at your face, Gracie. We're teasing you. Relax.”

For a moment, I envied Kya and her uninvolved parents. The doorbell rang. I froze.

Mom jumped up. “Do you want me to answer the door?”

“No.” I pulled on her hand and she slowly sat back down. I stopped, turning back. “You two behave,” I said in a loud whisper and hurried to the front door. My heart banged around my chest region and I patted my hair, licked my lips, and then opened the door.

“Hi.” Levi smiled down at me with his ultra-white teeth. He looked perfect in plaid shorts and a plain white T-shirt. I remembered reading somewhere that impressions were made in the first ten seconds or something. If so, I was a goner.

Thud, thud, thud.

What was it about this boy that made my heart patter like a paintball splat? I leaned in closer so I could smell him. What was I? A dog?

“You look great,” Levi said.

I smoothed down the front of my shirt. Kya's shirt. “Thanks.” God, I sounded like a dork. “So do you.” I held the doorknob for support, trying not to stare at how his thin shirt emphasized his firm chest and stomach. He even had on cool flip-flops. When had I become this shallow?

“Are you going to invite him in to meet us?” Mom called from the couch.

I glanced over my shoulder and gave her my most serious “do not mess this up for me” look.

She smiled and got up and I turned back to Levi. “Come in. I apologize in advance for my parents.” I held out my hand, he walked past me, and the scent of fresh soap drifted in the air. Definitely not a good time to imagine him in the shower. Naked. I breathed in deeply and turned, praying for nothing embarrassing to happen.

Fortunately, Mom didn't race to the door giggling or grab her camera to take pics. Instead, she walked over slowly, like a regular person, and shook Levi's hand, acting far more normal than expected. She didn't sing him a weird song or tell him an embarrassing story about me, or even ask him what his parents did for a living. I had to give her credit. She was definitely on her best behavior.

She asked Levi how he liked Tadita and he gave a polite answer. Dad pushed himself up out of his lazy chair and sauntered over to the front foyer, joking about how Levi's head almost hit the chandelier. Since he only had a couple of inches on me, Dad believed he'd been ripped off in the height department. He promised me in his next life he'd be a much taller man.

“You're in our new league at Splatterfest?” Dad asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Yeah. I wasn't very good,” Levi answered. “I didn't last longer than a few minutes in any game. It's different from woodsball.”

“Well, Grace can give you some pointers,” Dad said.

“Maybe Levi doesn't want pointers.” I glared at my dad, telepathically telling him to not brag about my aggressive game or how much I loved kicking boy butt.

Levi smiled. “No. It's okay. Maybe I do. I'm more interested in speedball now.”

Mom tee-hee'd behind her hand, and the only reason she didn't get a dirty look was because she was standing right beside Levi and he'd see me and might think it was meant for him.

“Well, Grace can help, or Indie, Grace's brother. Or Kya. Maybe we can get you into tournament play,” Dad said.

I opened my eyes and shook my head at him. “Don't get carried away, Dad. Levi didn't say anything about tourneys.”

The thought of Levi in tournaments didn't appeal to me at all. For once, I wanted to be a girl, not a girl trying to prove I was as tough as a boy was.

“Actually I play soccer,” Levi told him. “So I'm hoping to make the school team. Tryouts start next week.”

Dad was nodding and about to say something when the doorbell rang and we all turned.

I stared at it without moving. Mom gave me a smile as if I was a slow child, and she squeezed past me and reached to open the door.

“Hello, James!” she said. “Are you coming to call on me?”

From outside, James mumbled something I couldn't hear.

“She has a young man here taking her out for a date. Would you like to come in and duel to the death for the fair maiden's hand?”

“Mom,” I groaned and glanced at Levi, trying to convey my horror at the words that came uninvited from her mouth. “She's kidding.”

“James,” I called, moving my head to peer around my mom's shoulder. “Come on in.”

James stepped in the door. His ears were bright red. A whoosh of wind followed him and he pulled the door closed.

“Hey, Grace,” he said but his eyes automatically went to Levi. He nodded.

“You remember Levi?” he said.

“Sure.”

“'Sup,” Levi said.

“The market index is up. The value of the euro is up. And from the look of things, you are up for some serious points for taking care of our damsel in distress. Though with Kya, that's kind of a perpetual state of being. But way to go.”

“James,” I warned.

Levi didn't bat an eye.

“Hello, James,” my dad said. “What did Kya do now?”

“Nothing.” James glanced at my dad and then me. “Actually I'm here to see if I could call in a favor.” His expression was sheepish. “Again. My mom has a doctor's appointment tomorrow and I totally forgot about it. It's at nine and I'm supposed to work at ten. It should be quick. Just a check-in and a prescription refill. I'd only be an hour late by the time I get her back and everything. I'm really sorry for the short notice.”

“I can take your mom.” My mom touched his arm and smiled. “Then you won't get in trouble with your mean boss and won't lose any money.”

Dad snorted. “If Judith can't make it, you can absolutely take the time. Indie can cover for you. Or Grace.” He glanced at me but I rolled my eyes, knowing Mom was on it.

“No, it's not a problem,” Mom said. “I'd be happy to take her. We need to catch up.”

“That's awesome,” James said, staring at my mom with love in his eyes.

I glared at James. “Is your phone broken, James?”

“My phone is in perfect working order, but thanks for your concern, Gracelet.” He rocked back on the heels of his Converse runners.

Levi glanced around at all of us, not quite getting the vibes.

“He came in person because he was hoping for snacks,” I told him.

“Smart boy. Homemade cookies fresh from the oven,” my mom said. I didn't bust her and let Levi know homemade meant premade cookie dough she bought at the grocery store and cut into slices. Everyone else knew.

“I thought I smelled something delicious.” James smiled and slipped off his shoes and pushed them to the side with his foot.

“I smell something slightly less appetizing,” I said as he slipped by Levi and me and headed to the kitchen.

Dad followed. “I might as well join you. No one likes to eat cookies alone. Get us some milk, would you, James?”

James turned and winked as he headed to the cupboard to grab two glasses. “Don't hate on me for hogging the baked goods.”

“That's not what I'm hating on you for,” I called.

He grinned.

I turned back to Levi. “Okay,” I said. “We should get going or we'll miss the show.” I wanted to hurry him out before Mom forced him to sit down for milk and cookies too.

Mom managed to sneak in a few quick questions while I slipped on a pair of sandals with modest heels. James and Dad were in the kitchen scarfing and I waited while Levi finished explaining to Mom why his parents were in China for the year. Finally we escaped.

“Thank God,” I said when a door separated us from my parents.

Even though it was almost seven thirty, warm air brushed my skin along with the warm breeze. The sun still brightened the sky. I tilted my head back and soaked up the rays.

“Don't worry,” Levi said. “They weren't so bad. You're lucky my parents are in China. They'd have dragged you inside and pulled out home movies. We would have ended up eating popcorn and hanging out with them all night.”

“Well, I know my mom barely resisted making you sit down for milk and cookies.” I smiled to myself because he'd inferred that, if his parents were around, he'd introduce me.

“Well, at least she had your friend to feed.” There was a twinge of something in his voice. Jealousy?

“James is a good friend. Though he was kind of acting like a dog marking his territory, wasn't he?”

Levi laughed. “A little.” We walked down the driveway toward his car. “I take it he's pretty close with your whole family.”

“Yeah. I told you before, he's our third. Mine and Kya's. We've hung out together forever. Kya and James have consumed many empty calories at my house. My mom likes to pretend she bakes and she likes to feed people. James has a sixth sense for knowing when she has something in the oven.”

He shrugged. “He's lucky. That's cool.”

“Yeah. My parents collect people. James because his mom is sick. And Kya because her parents are idiots.”

Levi opened his mouth to ask something when a loud smash came from Kya's house. We both looked over. There was giggling, fumbling, and Kya yelled out, “Oops, I'm a klutz.” Then she spotted us. “Hey, Skanklet. Hey, Lucas's cousin!”

Tonight I kind of wished my friends lived farther down the street, maybe even on the other side of town. Kya waved as she walked out of the garage and down the driveway toward us. She had on a loose halter dress and the silver heels she'd offered me earlier. Lucas followed, grinning widely but it looked silly and vacant. I suspected chemical substances floating amid the fluid in his head.