I am not following Caitlin. I’m not bicycling through Coconut Grove, past the trendy shops on Saturday afternoon, searching for yellow hair among the rickshaws, tourists, and Dalmatians. I can’t hear her voice over the birds or the noise spilling from ghetto blasters. And the crowd drinking spiked Slurpees on the balcony at Fat Tuesday doesn’t see me seeing her.
Finally, I lose her. Next turn, I’m staring at the steroid-enhanced arm of the law.
“Need some help, son?” the cop asks. Caitlin and Elsa stand on the corner. Elsa smiles and waves. Then a skater blocks my view.
“No, sir.” I emphasize the sir slightly. Way to deal with cops is give them the respect they think they deserve.
“Might I ask what you’re doing here?”
You might. With probable cause. But I shrug. “Waiting for someone.”
“These ladies say you’re bothering them.”
“Don’t believe I spoke to them, sir.”
His cop eyes meet mine. It feels like an hour. Spots of perspiration appear on his uniform, and I see wheels turning. He knows there’s a restraining order, knows I’m on the same planet as Caitlin. He’s trying to put two and two together to make a legal violation so he can haul me off and get out of this heat. It would take a miracle to get me out of this. Then I get one.
Leo steps from behind a line of cars. He holds aviator sunglasses in one hand, fingers in the other, fingers that, incidentally, are attached to this tiny, pretty brunet who’s gazing adoringly at him.
“Nick, what it is!” he says, looking from me to the cop and Caitlin, then back at me. He doesn’t acknowledge Elsa. “Been waiting long?”
“Long enough,” I fake it. “Where were you?”
Mr. Cool smiles and leans against a rack of Spanish newspapers. “Picked Neysa up from a school-related function…” (Smile at the cop) “And all the nuns need something done. Tote that barge. Lift that bale—that kinda stuff.”
“A Christian martyr,” I say. “Don’t let it happen again.”
The cop looks from the pet store on the right (which sells only Akitas) to the tattoo parlor on the left and, possibly, sees his air-conditioned squad car fade to memory. “You were meeting here?”
“I always wanted a dog,” Neysa says, straight-faced.
On the corner, Elsa rolls her eyes. Leo must decide the cop needs more convincing. “Hey, you know Ray DeLeon?” he asks, identifying Ray from our family violence class. “He’s with the city police. He’s my cousin, knows Nick too. Ask him.”
The cop considers. “Well, if you’re friends of Ray’s.”
“Don’t forget to say hello to his girlfriend, Diana,” I add. Ray would say anything to change the subject away from how he knows us.
The officer strolls to where they’re standing. “Sorry, ladies. Can’t arrest someone just for being in the Grove.”
“He was following us,” Elsa whines.
“That’s fine.” Caitlin grabs Elsa’s arm. “Let’s go.” Elsa protests, but Caitlin’s feet are in motion. I watch her go. When the cop leaves too, Leo faces me.
“In a spot of trouble, eh?” he says in his best James Bond impression.
“And you, my truant friend?” I say in the same accent. “Missed you in class today, chap. Last week too.”
“Poor, dear Nick.” Leo tut-tuts, still British. “That ugly chapter is behind me, my boy.” He gestures, by way of explanation, to the brunet. “This is Neysa. We’re back together.”
“Nice to meet you.” She holds out the hand not in Leo’s.
I take it. It feels like a warm bird, and I watch Leo’s grip on her other hand tighten until, finally, she releases mine.
“Hot girl,” Leo says, his eyes following Caitlin down Main Highway. “Stick with me, I’ll help you get her back.”
I felt like someone had tightened the lug nuts on my face. Caitlin should have been in the group that came out before. Was she making me wait on purpose? Had she already left? I didn’t need this on top of Tom’s sermon. I stalked the suddenly empty halls, not exactly sure where the chorus room was, but finding it by the sound of Caitlin’s voice.
“Rejoice! Rejoice!”
Why was she singing while I waited? She’d rather sing than be with me now? I turned the doorknob slowly, soundlessly, and slipped through. I stood frozen, watching.
Two figures were by the piano. Caitlin and the guy playing. I knew him. Derek Wayne. We’d pretty much quit calling him “Wayne the Brain” last year. She stood so close, their bodies would touch if she inhaled too much air. Her fingertips grazed his shoulder. She leaned to turn the page, her blond hair brushing his pale face. My fists clenched. She shouldn’t touch another guy like that. She continued singing, every high and low note hitting like ice through my eye. Then, in the hardest section, she missed a note. Caitlin collapsed in a fit of giggles onto the piano bench.
“Oh, God. I’ll never get this.”
Derek stopped playing. “I won’t listen to you put yourself down, Caitlin McCourt. You’re just fishing for compliments.”
“I’m not.”
“You know you have the best voice around.”
“Oh, sure.” But she returned his smile, encouraging him, like she’d take on anyone who’d have her. Slut. They could probably hear my heart by then, so I did the stupid, clichéd thing. I cleared my throat. Cat jumped. Both turned and looked at me.
“Nick,” Cat said. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“Guess not.” She thought I was stupid.
She came over and tried to lead me toward Derek. I wouldn’t budge.
“You two know each other?” she asked.
Derek eyed me. “We’ve met.” He turned to Caitlin. “I didn’t know you and Nick … dated?”
“Now you do,” I said. Without another word, I pulled Caitlin out the door, and we walked to the car in silence. It was closing in on five, and the parking lot was empty. Caitlin took my hand. I jerked it away. In my mind, I saw her touching Derek’s shoulder, her hair against his face. Our footsteps were loud as a marching band in the motionless parking lot. I stopped beside my car. I felt so weak, so used. She was making a fool of me, and I couldn’t stop it. Finally, the words built up to the point where they exploded from me. “Why didn’t you throw him down and screw him right there?”
Caitlin stopped, backed away. “What?”
“You know what. The way you were coming on to him.”
“Are you crazy?” she said. “It was Derek.”
The air was thick, heavy. “That’s it. I’m crazy. I saw you. I saw you flirting with him, touching him. I saw him looking at you.” I raised an arm. It was a gesture. I wasn’t going to hit her, was I? But she flinched. I knew I was yelling, but I didn’t stop, like that fat, hot air made me yell, made me say, “Slut! I can’t let you out of my sight, can I? You can’t be trusted, you bitch!”
Caitlin turned to me. “You can trust me. How can you say this?”
“How can I?” Like I didn’t know better. “How can you be like that with other guys when you said you loved me? Are you lying about being a virgin? Sweet little Caitlin—you play hard to get with me, but you’d spread your legs for him, wouldn’t you?”
I grabbed her arm. The anger inside me was alive, and it made me want things, crazy things. Part of me wanted to hit her. The other part wanted to force her against the car and take what she wouldn’t let me have, what I knew she was giving him. I felt every hair on my head, every pore of skin ripping open, and I yelled, “You sleeping with him, Cat? Is that where you learned what we do together—from other guys?”
She didn’t speak. I gripped her arm harder. “Is it?”
“No.” She stared at me, and once she spoke, she kept repeating, “No, no…”
Sick of her, I dropped her arm and walked away. “Forget it. I’m leaving.”
I got in the car and elbowed the door locked, still not looking at her. I gunned the motor and started to pull out of the parking space.
Then I saw Caitlin.
She stood, crying. No cars in sight. No one to see or hear or care. Caitlin’s hair hung in her face, making her look small. She clutched her arm where I’d held it, but I could see a red mark spreading under her hand. I had done that. God, I was like my father, just exactly like him. I had this strange feeling in my brain, like I’d lost something irreplaceable. I pushed it away. Caitlin came to the window. I rolled it down, and her words spewed out in a gush of tears. Looking at her, I felt like crying myself. And I never cried.
“I’m sorry, Nick,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I did, but I won’t do it again. There was no one but you, ever. I never … you’re the only boy I ever kissed.” She knelt to look at me. “Please give me another chance.”
She was apologizing. I’d hurt her, and she was sorry. Maybe I hadn’t really hurt her. She was worked up, but she’d be okay. I’d make it okay. I opened the door and took her in my arms. “I’m sorry too, Cat. You know I’d never hurt you.” I kissed her, first her face, her lips, then her arm where it kept getting redder. I wanted to kiss every hair on her head to keep her with me. “Sometimes, I get crazy. It’s just, I’d die if I lost you.”
“I won’t do it again.” Caitlin’s tears soaked my face. “I won’t do anything to make you mad again.”
“It’s okay.” She was all right. I hadn’t hurt her. Nothing had changed. In a way, it felt good, knowing she’d forgive anything. Safe. Still, I wouldn’t risk it again. I’d be the perfect boyfriend. Now that I knew she loved me, it would be easy.
I held her until every tear was gone.