What's Mine and Yours(88)

“I know what you mean.”

Noelle slid back onto the porch swing, patted the place between her and Bailey. Bailey’s face was burning red now, and he left without a word, the screen door clapping behind him. Margarita hesitated, staring at her sister, measuring. Finally, she climbed up on the swing beside her.

“Can you believe we used to live there?” Noelle pointed to the empty blue house next door, the SOLD sign pitched into the cold earth.

“No,” Margarita said. “I can’t.”

They swung their legs together, shared the sweet, hard beans.



At home, Linette fussed over Gee more than was necessary. She made him chili smothered in cheese, cup after cup of warmed milk. His tailbone ached, so he couldn’t sit at the table, or at his desk to play at the computer. He ate in the kitchen, standing up, and then he went up to his room and lay on his bed under the swinging bulb, listening to music on his CD player. He took naps, and when he couldn’t doze off, he stroked himself to sleep. There wasn’t always pleasure in it, but always release. His humming fingertips. His blank mind. His loose jaw.

Jade had allowed him to stay home from school; he had a doctor’s note; the days passed in boredom and peace, except for his nightmares. He ran through alleyways and fields of grass; it was dark; he was alone; he couldn’t see who chased him. What Gee knew in every dream was that he couldn’t outrun them. If he stayed sleeping, he’d be gone. Once, he woke up crying, which was embarrassing. Usually, he lurched awake with a feeling that he’d swallowed a mouthful of cold water; his teeth ached, vibrated. He went down to the kitchen to drink mugs of steaming water. One night, he boiled water and drank, then opened the back door, and sat on the steps.

The town houses at the complex were narrow brick. They were close together, separated by little seas of grass that the neighbors used as yards. They kept grills or bicycles or tools under large tarps. A wooden fence divided the complex from the road, the squat houses on the other side. The ground was covered in fallen pine needles, sharp cones. It was dark, a night without a moon.

The cool air felt good on his skin. His face was still swollen, and he wondered how he’d look by the time he had to return to school. There would be rumors. People would know what had happened; they would know about Ray. What was worse was that Gee was certain most of his classmates didn’t even know who he was. Which one is he? they’d probably asked. Who’s Gee?

Adira had called a few times to check on him; so had Mr. Riley. He hadn’t come to the phone for either of them, although Linette tried to encourage him. There had been no word from Noelle, and he wondered whether what had been brewing between them was over now, if she had been scared off by their mothers. He hadn’t had the chance to see whether knowing the truth about Ray had changed how she saw him; he hadn’t had the chance to hear what she meant when she said she liked him. Maybe he was just another project to her, the way he was to his mother, to Mr. Riley. Maybe she just wanted to be the kind of girl who could be friends with a boy like him. Maybe she was just trying to show she knew wrong from right. Whatever the reason, he didn’t want her to change his mind.

“What are you doing out here?”

Jade stood in the doorway, her face bare and serious, her earrings off. She wore an oversized T-shirt for some band he’d never heard of and a pair of men’s boxers, knee-high socks.

“You need your rest,” she said. “Come on, it’s cold.”

“Sit next to me,” Gee said, and to his surprise, she did.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Can’t we just talk?”

“All right.”

The silence leached between them.

“You ever been in a play?”

“I used to dream sometimes about being in a band,” Jade said. “Playing the drums.”

“I thought you wanted to be a scientist.”

“I used to dream about a lot of things.”

“But you never dreamed about Daddy. You just found him.”

“We found him. You were there, too.”

Jade talked about that day at the DMV the way some mothers talked about their children’s births: it was where Gee began. He knew nothing about the day he was born; he supposed it was a day she didn’t want to remember. He didn’t bring up those circumstances, how young she’d been. He didn’t ask about his biological father. He knew his name and that he’d left; he didn’t need to know anything else.

“So what’s going on?” Jade asked. “Are you in love or something?”

Gee shrugged. “She’s my friend.”

“I don’t like that girl for you. She’s got too many problems.”

“You don’t even know her.”

“I can tell by looking at her family. You can’t escape the people you come from, at least not when you’re that young. Girls like that get good men in trouble.”

Jade rubbed her thighs against the cold. She looked up at the dark stamp of the pines against the sky.

“Whatever happened to Carmela? And to Wilson?”

“I don’t concern myself with them anymore,” Jade said. “And neither should you. I’m talking to you now about that girl—”

“Noelle.”

“Is she the reason you’re doing that play?”