The Same Sky(22)

“Slow down,” he said. “What’s gone wrong?”

“So I drove to the trailer park,” I said.

“What trailer park?” said Jake. “I was napping—I’m confused.”

I slumped against the tiled wall. At my feet was a discarded popcorn sleeve. Above the faucet, two young girls applied heavy eye makeup: liquid liner, mascara, glittering eye shadow. I gazed at my own, plain face as I said, “Remember I couldn’t go canoeing because I’m spending the day with Evian, the girl Principal Markson wants me to mentor?”

“Oh, I remember,” said Jake. “So how’s it going?”

“It’s a disaster. I’m in the movie theater bathroom. At the mall!”

“Oh my God,” said Jake. “Where is the mall, anyway?”

“Out Highway 360,” I said. “But wait … Evian’s in the movie theater, making out with her boyfriend, and his name is Sam!”

“I see,” said Jake dryly.

“What do I do?” I said. “Should I split them up? What is my role here?”

“Have you tried Marion?”

“What?”

“Principal Markson? Have you called her?”

“You’re on a first-name basis with Principal Markson?” I asked. “Her name is Marion Markson?”

“Let’s stay focused,” said Jake.

“Okay,” I said. The girls had finished painting themselves and had begun to watch me with vague interest, so I went inside a stall and locked the beige metal door. I sat on the toilet. “I tried Principal Markson,” I said. “She didn’t answer. I just don’t know what the right thing is for me to do here.”

“Go watch the movie,” said Jake. “And when it’s over, bring the girl home. What movie, by the way?”

“One of the Iron Mans,” I said.

“Oh, dear,” said Jake. “Totally inappropriate.”

“She’s not watching the movie,” I said. “And Jake … this Sam is a senior! Or he must be a repeating senior … he’s nineteen!”

“Complete disaster,” Jake summarized.

“Yeah,” I said, exhaling.

“It’s going to be fine, honey,” said Jake. “Go enjoy the movie. It’s good—I went with Benji to a matinee last week.”

“Okay?” I said, but it was a question.

“You’re just supposed to … be there, I guess,” said Jake. “Right?”

“I’m not fond of situations I can’t control,” I said.

“That’s for damn sure,” said Jake. He started to laugh. “Are you really in the movie theater bathroom?” he said.

“Grrr,” I said.

“Was that a growl?” said Jake. “You’re making me hot, hon.”

“Adios,” I said, cutting the line.


I was smiling as I washed my hands, then returned to the theater. It was nice and chilly, and I still had half a cup of Diet Coke. Even better, Evian and Sam had stopped making out and seemed to be engrossed in the movie.

“Hi,” I said cheerily, sliding into my chair.

Neither answered me. Sam was a tall Hispanic boy, skinny and dressed in lime-green shorts and an Abercrombie & Fitch sweatshirt with a hood. He wore black-framed glasses and looked as if he’d walked off the pages of GQ magazine. I could see why Evian was smitten. What Sam saw in my underage charge was less apparent. But he’d been thrilled when we found him in front of Foot Locker, grabbing Evian’s hand, causing her to flush.

“Um, Alice, you said you needed to do some shopping?” Evian had said. “I can meet you out front for my ride home.”

“How about we go to the movies?” I’d said.

“Uh …,” said Evian, cutting her eyes to Sam.

“I heard the new Iron Man’s good,” said Sam, shrugging.

“Great!” I’d said. “My treat!” And I barreled toward the theater, buying tickets and soda and settling into my gum-covered seat. But as soon as the lights dimmed, Evian ducked toward Sam with a kiss, and before long I was sitting next to a hot and heavy situation. I hadn’t actually been in such close proximity to other people tongue-kissing since our tenth-grade campout in Mesa Verde National Park. Flustered, I’d ducked out to call Jake. But now I was back.


When the movie ended, Evian made another plea for time alone with Sam, and again I demurred, telling her I needed to bring her home. “My mom doesn’t care where I am,” Evian insisted hotly.

“I need to do some things at the restaurant,” I said.

“You have a restaurant?” said Sam.

“Conroe’s BBQ,” I said, nodding. The neon lights from a Gap Kids store made our faces pale and yellowish.

“That’s right by my house,” said Sam.

“Oh, yeah?” I said.

“I’m going to work there,” said Evian. “I’m going to be a waitress.”

“Well, we’ll see …”

“I thought you said yes!” Evian scowled and balled her fists at her sides. But then her anger drained and she sighed histrionically and hung her head. She was so mercurial it was hard to keep up. “Everybody lies,” she said glumly.