Every Single Secret(44)

“You’re a fat fuck,” Tré said quietly. Ominously.

Omega looked at me. “Are you going to tell Mrs. Bobbie?”

I shook my head.

“Even if we let you in but not her?” Omega said, sliding her eyes to Chantal. Her perfect lips had curved into a small smile, and I felt afraid and elated, all at once.

“She’ll tell. Fat fuck,” Chantal said, and Omega lunged at her. In a flash, Chantal sprang to life and took off running, up the hill, weaving around the thin saplings, slipping on the rotted leaves.

Shellie giggled. “Oh my God. Look at that little jackrabbit go.”

They all started laughing then, and for a moment, I felt just the tiniest bit sorry for Chantal. But then they swept me into the genie’s bottle, into the warm embrace of their laughter, and they clicked on a string of rose-colored lights (battery powered, I asked) and turned on a CD player that had only one working speaker.

They showed me everything they had hidden there (two dirty books, each with a man’s oily torso on the cover; sour-cream-and-onion chips and Snickers bars from Mrs. Bobbie’s stash; and a crushed package of L&M cigarettes), and told me we had to wait there for a special surprise. Then there was a rap on the moldy, split plywood door.

The surprise turned out to be Mr. Al, although I didn’t quite understand what made his appearance so astonishing. He was basically our dad, after all. Surely, he knew about the clubhouse and had been down here. When the girls heard him at the door, they immediately leapt up and filed out. Tré, the last one in line, turned to me.

“Don’t come outside,” she said, her black eyes flashing in her white face. “I mean it.”

I nodded vigorously so she knew I could be trusted. “Okay.”

The door slammed shut, but I could hear their giggles and Mr. Al’s low voice. And then all the sounds dropped away and I was left in the silence. I opened the book to one soft dog-eared page.

Everlane felt the heat and weight of Dex’s body pressing down on her, pressing her into wet sand. She felt the crush of his chest and pelvic bones and muscled thighs against her body, the rash of his rough beard against her face, and her mouth opened involuntarily. He took the opportunity to cover her mouth with his, and she wondered if she would be able to breathe or if she would be smothered. When his tongue entered her mouth, every cell of her body melted liquid, and she realized she didn’t care. “Let him crush me,” she thought. “Let him obliterate all I am so I will become one with him . . .

“Hey, little one,” Omega said and I looked up, startled. “You’re still here?”

It felt like it had been ages since they left, but it couldn’t have been longer than half an hour. Omega was standing in the open doorway, backlit by a halo of sunlight. She sauntered in, followed by Tré and Shellie. They brought with them a current of sweet-smelling smoke, and all three dropped cross-legged on the pillows scattered on the floor. They smiled and played with their hair and shirtsleeves—half-lidded, slo-mo princesses. I looked around expectantly, not really understanding but knowing something significant had changed about everyone but me.

“Ah, reading about Dex and Everlane?” Omega said.

“Did you get to the part where he does oral on her?” Tré asked. Omega swatted her. Mr. Al stuck his head in the door, took a gander around the dim room.

“All right, ladies,” he said, and then zeroed in on me. His face went slack for a second or two, then he blinked and broke into a sunny smile. “Well, my goodness. Hey there, Daphne Doodle Dandy,” he said. His voice was a warm, deep, twisting river, and it wound its way to me.

“Hey there,” I said.

“I didn’t know you were here,” he said.

The Super Tramps all burst into laughter, which made no sense, since he hadn’t said anything funny.

“Hush up, ladies. I’m talking to Daphne here. Look here, Miss Doodle Dandy. I’m going to go up to the house and get to work on Bitsy’s doghouse. Maybe you could help me with the painting a little later on. How would you like that?”

I nodded wordlessly.

“All right, then. Good.” He flicked a glance down at the book in my hands. “And look here. If you want to go to the library sometime, I’ll take you.”

I set the book aside, a flush of shame creeping along my neck. I wanted him to approve of me. I wouldn’t read any more about Everlane and Dex. I wouldn’t read anything but books Mr. Al helped me pick out at the library.

He grinned at me and I grinned back. It was hard to explain, but, like Everlane, I felt the weight of him. Not his body, and not in any kind of a sexual way. It was instead the gentle, steady sound of his voice, his kindness, and the reassurance that he really and truly cared about me.

All of those things had weight to them. They could really mean something, something big and important, I thought, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if Mr. Al was my real father.



Chapter Fifteen

I pushed myself up the mountain, not pausing for rest or even a swig of water. On the level stretches of the path, I jogged, scrambling and leaping, mountain-goat-style, over the boulder outcroppings when it steepened.

A mountain hike wasn’t quite the same as a balls-out sprint around the track, but it would do in a pinch. And truthfully, my lungs felt like they were about to burst. Also, at some point, that elusive inner switch had flipped, kicking over the endlessly spinning hamster wheel and allowing my mind to settle into a quieter frequency. By the time I broke out onto the curved limestone cap that looked out over the mountain range below, my heart was thundering, my body bathed in sweat. But I felt better.