17. Girls
I peel the orange at the small table by the kitchen as I wait for my mother to get off the phone. When she finally thanks Principal Harking, I hold my breath and wait.
“It’s all sorted out. The principal said that they ruled out that the gun belonged to you.”
“Whose was it?”
“They can trace it back to a seller in Tennessee. Obviously there are no ties to you. The principal said that one of the deputies was going to stop by.”
“It’s almost seven o’clock.”
“Maybe they’ll stop by yet tonight.”
“Doubt it. So that means I have to go back tomorrow?”
“You make it sound like a penitentiary.”
“You haven’t walked the halls.”
“One more day and you have the weekend.”
“Fantastic.”
I can’t help but think of the dance that I’m not going to.
It’s not that I want to go to a dance. I’d go milk cows with Jocelyn if I could. Or do whatever kids around here do for fun.
“Chris?”
I don’t notice the mess I’m making with the orange until Mom gets my attention. “Yeah?”
“Do you really think those guys you had a run-in with might have put a gun in your locker?”
“Yeah. I mean—I don’t know. I’m not sure. I don’t think it happened accidentally.”
“You need to be careful, okay?”
“I’ve got the whole school watching me now. I’m probably safer than I was a couple of days ago.”
“You have a point there.”
I eat a sliver of orange. “You forget how fast I am.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
“Sorry.”
“You can’t outrun everybody. I know, Chris. I’ve tried.”
The phone call around nine o’clock makes me jerk even though I’m upstairs and only hear it faintly.
I wait.
It’s not like we get many calls.
And calls at night are never good things. At least not for the Buckley household.
“Chris!”
I go downstairs and see the glow of the television as my mother holds the phone.
I miss our cordless. And my cell phone.
And my life.
I don’t ask who it is. I spot a reality show on television as I take the receiver and walk back toward the kitchen. “Hello?”
“Chris?”
For a moment, I want to let go with a sigh of relief.
For a moment, I want to tell Jocelyn that it’s about time she called, that it’s about time she showed that she actually cares, that it’s about time.
“It’s Rachel.”
“Hey,” I say, surprised.
Trying not to sound too disappointed.
“You’re a hard man to get hold of.”
“I don’t try to be.”
“You need to get the Internet so you have email. Or at least get a cell phone.”
Maybe you’d like to loan me the money to do both?
“Yeah, I know,” I say.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“It’s all over school about the gun.”
“Wonderful.”
“It wasn’t yours, was it?”
“Sure. It was part of my collection. Actually, I was just cleaning my shotgun upstairs.”
She laughs. I wish I had that laugh on my iPod. I’d play it whenever I felt awful.
“What’s going to happen?”
“They said they found out the gun wasn’t mine. Like that’s a big surprise. They’re letting me come back to school.”
“We’ve been really worried.”
I like her use of the plural.
“I tried to get Jocelyn to call,” Rachel continues. “But of course she won’t. She felt pretty bad about how she acted the other day, once she found out the truth.”
“It’s fine.”
“I told her—and Chris—I mean, I know you have other things going on. But I feel really, really awful.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, I do. We all do. Even Poe feels bad, if you can believe it. She doesn’t show it, but really she’s got a huge heart.”
“It’s really not a big deal.”
“Well—so you’re coming to school tomorrow?”
“Looks like it.”
“I guess we can talk then. But I just—well, there was something I wanted you to think about. Something I wanted to ask you.”
“What’s that?”
Rachel pauses for a moment, and I wonder whether the line got disconnected. “Hello?”
“No, I’m here. Sorry,” she says. “It’s just … well, let me see how to put this.”
“Just say it.”
“Do you still want go the dance?”
“What?” For a moment, I think she’s asking me. Doesn’t she already have a date? Wasn’t that why she wanted some other couple to come along?
“Let me rephrase that. Are you still willing to go to the dance? I know you said that you would. That you wanted to.”
“With you?”
“No, no, no,” she says, laughing. “With Jocelyn.”
“Uh, that might be a problem.”
“No, but that’s the thing. It’s not. She’s willing to go.”
“But last time she was talking about it—you were there. You heard what happened.”
“But she didn’t know about the note, Chris.”
“It’s really fine. I don’t need to go.”
“Just think about it, okay? Just—look, there’s a lot about this school and this place and Jocelyn that you don’t know.”
“I realize that.”
“Yeah, I know, but you don’t really realize it. There are things—it would take way too long and it wouldn’t make sense. Stuff about Jocelyn. Stuff that’s just—I don’t even get. Stuff about her family. And about her. She’s really changed in the last year, Chris.”
“What do you mean?”
“Just trust me. She’s changed. She’s different. But she’s also … I don’t know. She carries sadness with her like it’s her child. Like it’s her duty to have it. I can’t explain it. I try to help, but I just can’t. She’s been with some winners, I tell ya. I could tell stories. Every man in her life has treated her the same—horribly. And I just want—I want her to have fun. I want her to actually have a little fun.”
I don’t know what to say.
“Look—just think about it.”
I don’t have to think about anything.
I don’t have to because I know who I’ll be thinking about later.
The same person I’ve been thinking about ever since meeting her.
“I’ll go,” I say.
“Thank you, Chris. I know that she likes you. I can tell.”
“Oh, yeah. She’s madly in love.”
“You’re different. She knows that.”
“How do you know I’m not like those other guys?”
“I just know, Chris. I’m a good judge of character. Poe and Joss—they’re good girls. They’re quality. You’ll find that out. I mean, Jocelyn is drop-dead gorgeous. So is Poe, minus the whole darkness thing going on. But underneath you’ll find some pretty amazing girls.”
I want to say something else, but I can’t.
“Just find me tomorrow—find us. Don’t mind Joss either. She’ll surely be a little reserved. A little guarded. That’s just her, okay?”
“And she knows about this? You sure she knows about this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not playing matchmaker?”
Rachel laughs. “Oh, I’m sorta playing it, but Joss knows. She said it would be fine to go to the dance. For me.”
“Okay.”
Not the reason I’m wishing for, but I’ll take it.
When I get off the phone, Mom looks at me from the sofa.
“What was that about?” she asks.
“I don’t know. Girls. Hard to figure out.”
“They always will be.”
“Yeah.”
I head to the stairs.
“Chris?”
“Yeah?”
“If you want to talk … about anything … I’m here. At least I’m trying to be.”
“I know.”
“Girls included.”
I laugh and say goodnight.
Even though sleep won’t come for quite a long while. I already know that.
I’m too excited to sleep.