How to Be Brave(14)

“I’ve never smoked before,” Liss admits.

Evelyn shrugs and lights a cigarette while she speaks. “Whatever. I don’t care. There’s a first time for everything. Just know that it’ll hurt the first time. Like sex. Shit. All good things hurt the first time.” She shakes her head and exhales. Plumes of cinnamon-scented smoke swirl around us. “I never realized that before saying it aloud just now. Life. What a f*cking joke.”

Jesus. Who is this girl? Why did I have to wave her over? Me and my big ideas. “And ahem, smoking is not on the list,” I mutter to Liss. I try to catch her eye to impart a guilt trip, but she’s camouflaged by her brand-new sunglasses.

“What list?” Evelyn says, taking a drag and handing it to Liss. “Is that what you were reading? What kind of list is it? Can I see it?”

Liss sucks on the cigarette and instantly coughs, a low, barking cough like someone’s hit her in the chest with their fist. “Shit! Ouch. What is that?”

“Oh, cloves. Yeah, probably should start you on something lighter. But nothing tastes as good as cloves. They’re more expensive, but what the hell, you know? I don’t buy that much shit, so I splurge on the good stuff.”

Evelyn takes the cigarette back from Liss, who’s still struggling to catch her breath, and she presses it between her lips, lets it hang there like it’s a lollipop. “So, this list? What is it?”

“It’s nothing—” I try to say, but Liss interrupts me with the full story.

“It’s this thing she’s doing—I mean, we’re doing—where we try things we haven’t done before.” Liss reaches out to Evelyn. “Here, let me try the cigarette again.”

Evelyn laughs and exhales more smoke. “Like cutting class and smoking?”

“Well, kind of.” I shrug. “There’s other stuff on there. But, yeah. Just, like, new stuff.”

“Well, cool. Let me see the list.” Evelyn eyes my bag.

What the hell? I turn to Liss and shake my head. We only just met her. This girl is crossing all kinds of boundaries.

I expect Liss to read the horror in my face, but instead she exclaims, “Show her!”

“What? No, it’s personal … I mean, I don’t want to—”

“Aw, I’m sorry.” Evelyn straps her bag over her head and stands up. “I didn’t mean to barge in on your day. Shit, I’m sorry. I’ll go now—”

“Number twelve,” Liss whispers to me. She places the sunglasses on top of her head and catches my eye. She’s got that totally honest, optimistic, hopeful Liss grin on, the one that sometimes makes me believe that the world is inherently good and wonderful and rainbows and daisies, the one that makes me expect the best from people.

Shit.

“Okay, fine.” I sigh and reach into my bag.

“Really?” Evelyn sits back down. “Cool. Let’s see it.”

I hand her the list, which she unfolds and scans closely. She places her cigarette on the bench, careful not to drop any ashes on it. “Wow, man. You tried out for cheerleading?” I nod yes, and she asks, “How the hell was that?”

“An unfortunate experience, to say the least,” I say. “One that I was more than happy to cross off the list. I am absolutely ready to move on.”

“Okay, well, yeah, let’s see here. Skinny-dipping, nice. Skydiving, cool. Trapeze? Sure, whatever. And tribal dancing? Fuck, yeah! Totally hot. Can I do that with you guys?”

“Well, um, sure.” I turn to Liss, who has reached for the cigarette to take another inhale. She’s now simultaneously swallowing down a cough and nodding enthusiastically.

“The more, the merrier,” she says with smoke streaming out from her mouth. “Why not?”

“Actually, this shit is kind of awesome. Like, fishing? That’s just like, cute, you know? And flambé? What’s that?”

“It’s where you set food on fire with alcohol to cook it,” I say. “The Greeks do it a lot.”

“All right! Yeah, I like it. Can I hang out with you guys while you do some of this shit?” Evelyn takes back her cigarette, which is now just a small butt. “I mean, I can easily get you some pot. We could do number twelve this afternoon, if you guys want.”

“Um, well, we were thinking about going to the Art Institute…” I say.

“Fuck, yeah!” Evelyn gets excited. “I’ve got some kick-ass brownies back at my place. Edibles are the way to go. Let’s get high and go see some art!”

Oh boy. I’m not too sure about this.

Liss is nodding and Evelyn is nodding and I’m just sort of stunned by the sudden turn of events. I wanted this. I asked for this. But to be high in broad daylight on the streets of Chicago? Is this what my mom meant by do everything?

“Hey, who’s this Diana Askeridis?” Evelyn asks. “Why are you dedicating this to her, anyway?”

“Oh, that’s my mom,” I mutter. “She died a few months ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. How’d she die? Like, car accident or something? She was young, right?”

“No.” I can’t talk about this. Not now. I look at Liss for help.

Liss explains it for me. “She was diabetic and had kidney and heart failure. She was fifty-six.” It sounds like a coroner’s report.