Becca’s quiet today. A little too quiet. Could she still be mad at Liam for not telling her that Flesh was moving to town the very second he found out? It’s not like she didn’t learn about it two days later anyway. But still, it’s been a month since that happened—get over it already.
Becca wriggles her nose at the stench in the cafeteria. I swear schools should put comment cards on the tables so we can complain about how damn smelly it gets in here. I know that’s what Brianna would do, for sure. This one time at St. Alf’s, she made a huge fuss over the lunchroom stink, and they gave us all free dessert for three days.
“Reeks, right?” I ask, covering my nose with a napkin.
“The bathrooms,” Liam says, popping open a juice carton.
“What about them?”
“That’s what stinks. The guys’ bathroom outside overflowed this morning. Nobody’s fixed it yet, I guess.”
“Gross,” Becca mutters, eyes glued to her sheet music. She hasn’t had a bite to eat. All she’s done is finger invisible frets and pick at imaginary strings.
“It speaks!” I say, but Becca only smirks at me. Since my chat with Marie, I’ve wondered whether or not to finally tell Liam and Becca about the whole plan to foil Crossfire for my sake. I know my parents wouldn’t appreciate it if I divulge insider info, especially when they don’t know it themselves. But I really feel these guys are my friends.
Liam leans into my shoulder. “Desert, check out those guys down the table. Don’t look right at them.”
I pretend to search intensely for a maitre d’ near the kitchen. I see what Liam’s pointing out. These guys sitting there, sporting Crossfire—Insanity concert shirts, inching closer, like I’m gonna invite them to join us or something. “Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, that’s pretty geeky.” Liam laughs. “Come on, Desert, invite them over.”
I shoot him a look. “No. Stop it.”
He laughs again. “Right, Becca? We should have a great big Crossfire powwow right here at table eight?”
Becca grins, sighs, then finally pays attention to her tray of burritolike substance with cole slaw. It’s unbelievable how anyone can eat this stuff. I go through the grueling task of preparing my own lunch each night just so I won’t need to touch any of that garbage.
Halfway through my sandwich, someone behind me says, “Excuse me, Desert?”
I whirl around to find one of the guys with the Crossfire shirts. “Yeah? Hi?” He’s coming to ask me for something, something related to the band probably. It’s a greeting I recognize, full of hope that I’ll get him something.
“I don’t mean to bother you, but is there any way you can get your dad to sign these concert tickets?” he asks, showing me a pair of stubs from the last tour. “If not, it’s cool. I just thought I’d ask.”
See, this is a problem. If I say yes, then everyone will want something from me, and I just can’t. I’m not Dad’s agent or PR person. He’s Dad, not Flesh. “Look, I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t mean to be rude, but you understand that—”
“Oh, that’s cool,” the dude says, interrupting. “I know, you’d have to do it for everyone. That’s cool. Sorry to bother you. Sorry.” And he smiles, then goes back to the group of guys, who look disappointed.
I feel terrible. I really do. The guy was nice, but I just can’t. It would get totally out of control. Liam and Becca stare at me, trying to empathize, trying to get used to this, their friend with all the odd attention. Thankfully, Becca decides this is a good time to change the subject by actually speaking.
“You guys, I’ve been talking to someone,” she announces out of nowhere, looking down, as if she’s talking to the guitar tabs.
I peer up into her face. “Someone as in a love prospect someone?”
“Who?” Liam asks, chowing down.
“This girl in my art class. I’ve known her since middle school, well, known her name. You might know her, Liam. Jessie?”
Liam acknowledges the name, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking.
“I guess she’s always known me,” she goes on. “But we never actually talked until last week.”
“And?” Liam’s swirling his juice carton in the air, urging for more info.
“And we paired up for an assignment, kinda the way you guys did in Ms. Smigla’s class that time.”
Liam elbows me. I smile like a goof.
“She’s cool. We’ve been talking on the phone every night. I went to her house yesterday.”
Liam’s about to fall off the bench. “And? Did you get it on?”
“Liam!” she cries. “Cut it out! We just met, and I want to know what you guys think of her.”
“Damn. All right, let’s meet her then,” Liam agrees.
“Yeah, awesome, Becca. Like when?”
“She’s here.” Becca’s gaze darts around and lands somewhere across the room.
“Where?” I’m looking for someone who might be waving at us. Stupid thought.
“There. You see the blond girl in the green top, still in line?”
Let’s see, there’s a girl with her hair in cornrows, wearing a green, skintight piece of cloth, if that’s what Becca’s calling a top. “Yes?”
“That’s Jessie.”
I’ve seen her around. Sometimes she hangs out with Flute Girl, whose name I learned is Amber…gag. But usually I’ve seen Jessie in the Oye section of the parking lot. I guess she’s part band friend, part Oye.
“That Jessie?” Liam looks like he’s going to be sick.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Becca asks, eyebrows drawn together.
“Nothing, I just can’t believe you’re seeing that girl,” Liam says, but he doesn’t offer an explanation for his grossed-out attitude. I’ll have to squeeze what he knows out of him later.
“What makes her so nice?” I ask. I really must know, since this girl competes with the weirdness maximus crowd.
Becca sighs, shrugging. “I don’t know. She just is. Knows a lot about music, I guess.”
“Does she know about Desert here?” Liam asks.
I smack his arm. “Who cares?”
“She might. I haven’t said anything, though.” Becca glares at me, reminding me of the cold treatment I gave her the day my pictures were posted. I don’t know what she’s all sour about. I said I was sorry.
I did appreciate it, though. Her not going off and bragging like other kids usually have in the past. Jessie spots us and picks up speed. “She saw us, Beck. I think she’s coming over.”
Becca runs a hand through her straight hair, fluffing it up. I just noticed that she looks really nice today. She’s got that eyeliner working again. Plus some lip gloss. So this is why she’s been getting all dolled up lately. Go, Becca!
As Jessie gets closer I can see she’s very hoochie-mama, smacking her gum and everything. Hard to believe she knows much about anything other than body glitter, much less music. She walks up to our table and stands there, smiling.
“Hi!” Becca greets her. Beck looks different suddenly, like a happier, perkier version of herself.
“Hey, can I sit with you guys?” Hoochie asks, throwing her hip out.
What does Becca see in this chick?
“Sure,” Liam says, scooting over toward me to make some room. He turns his head then whispers, joking, “Sorry, am I getting too close?”
Too close, my butt!
“Yeah, actually. Why don’t you just sit on my lap?” I kid, pinching his bicep. He laughs. He totally gets me.
“Jessie, this is Liam and Desert,” Becca says. Do I detect a flush on her cheeks, or is it just blush she’s wearing too?
“Hi.” Hooch gestures at Liam. “You, I know from P.G. Middle, but you, I don’t think I ever met.”
No, no, she’s right about that. Because if I’d ever met her before, I sure as hell would remember those JLo jeans she’s sportin’ there. “No, don’t think so, hi.” I’m being really nice, considering she hasn’t stopped staring at me since she parked her big butt down.
“Li’s the one I was telling you about, Jessie. The one with the art collection,” Becca says, but Jessie barely acknowledges her.
“Art collection?” I whisper. “You never told me you had an art collection.”
“It’s no big deal,” Liam says shyly. “Just whatever I find I like, I print. My walls are covered with stuff.”
“Ah, so you’re a pirate?”
“A what?” Jessie asks, complete and total befuddlement all over her face. “Did she say ‘a pirate’?”
“I meant, as in piracy, as in he’s stealing images off the Internet.” Can you say ignorant?
“No, I’m not,” Liam defends himself. “I try to get the artist’s permission to print it. Most of the time they reply.”
I was just kidding anyway. “I didn’t know you did that. That’s cool.” You know, I just realized that Liam and I haven’t talked much about his hobbies. Everything’s always about me. How totally self-centered.
We’re there, listening to Jessie and Becca talk about some stupid Lifetime movie last night, when a loud-as-hell alarm screams out of nowhere. Fire drill. Some girls shriek as two hundred students make for the doors, laughing and hooting. Liam picks up our book bags. “Party!” he cries, pulling me to the nearest EXIT sign with him.
All these bodies trying to shuffle through this doorway like cattle make me want to moo. It also makes me want to wrap my arms around Liam, who’s inching toward an exit. He wore a tight T-shirt today that accents a surprisingly athletic build underneath. Sexy and seventeen, baby, and he’s all mine.
He reaches back and grabs my hand, pulling it around his waist. My, my. Then, he leans his head back and says, “This is perfect.”
Yes, it is, isn’t it? “What is?”
“This fire drill.”
Oh.
“I’ve been wanting out of here all day. Can’t concentrate on anything.”
Wonder why. Could it be because of me? Does Liam think about me as much as I do about him? Ever since the cemetery last Friday, my thoughts have been all Liam, Mom, Marie, Liam, Becca, Marie, Liam, Liam, Adriana. Did I mention Liam?
“Hey, have you told your stepmom anything about me yet?” I ask. We enter the open corridor outside the cafeteria, and exit from the side of the building. Hopefully he knows where he’s going. I’m just following his lead. Becca and Jessie got lost somewhere back there with the cattle.
“Yeah.” He shrugs. No eye contact, all serious. “I tried. Said you’re all friendly one minute and yelling at people the next.”
“Geez, you don’t have to make me sound schizophrenic.”
“Whatever works.” He laughs. “You mean, like Jessie?”
“Yeah? What is up with that girl? Why would Becca even like her? What could she possibly know about guitar, which is the only thing Becca even cares about? That and Flesh.”
“That girl’s a lunatic, man. She probably just buttered Becca all up about her art, and Becca flipped that someone was paying attention to her. I’ve heard she can be a real bitch.”
“Becca?”
“No, you nerd! Jessie!”
We laugh like idiots. “Well, then maybe we should tell Becca something,” I say.
“Nah. You can’t tell her anything. She gets too sensitive. She’s gotta figure things out on her own.”
Very true. I can be like that too, I guess. “She wouldn’t stop staring at me the whole time sitting there.”
“Yeah, I know.”
So he noticed too. I don’t want to be the one to tell Becca, but I recognize this weird feeling as butt kissing. The story of my life. I’m the stepping-stone people walk over to reach Flesh. “Whatever. She seems happy. Let her have fun, I guess.”
Liam tows me to the parking lot, where hundreds of kids are lined up outside the fence. A few smoking, most chatting. Fire drills are like the ultimate excuse to socialize on campus. Me, I’m getting escorted to a nice red Integra, which Liam clicks open with the remote on his keychain.
“This your brother’s?” I ask, sliding my hand along the smooth, waxed body.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, opening the car door for me, showing me in. “Hope he doesn’t need it in the next five minutes.”
Two seconds later, a taller, chubbier version of Liam is standing next to us. “I see we both had the same idea,” says the stranger.
“Hey, Mike.” Liam bumps shoulders with him. “You mind if I hang out here for a bit?” He sends Michael the universal, guy-to-guy, I’ve-got-a-chick-with-me-now-scram look.
“No, man, that’s fine. Is this Desert?” he asks, smiling and nodding at me.
Is this Desert? So I guess Liam talks about me. Or maybe Adriana talks about me. Does Michael think I’m Liam’s girlfriend or a reconnaissance project?
“Yeah, Des, this is Michael,” he says to me, then turns to his brother, “who’s just about to leave.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say. I always feel archaic whenever I say that.
Michael says, “All right, all right, I’m outta here.” He laughs and leaves to hang out with some friends along the fence. I get into the car, and Liam closes the door.
You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been inside a vehicle that didn’t belong to anyone in Crossfire, wasn’t rented, or owned by a city guide. And Dylan, my boyfriend in LA, didn’t have his license yet. This car’s pretty nice, complete with leather everything.
Liam walks around the front, then opens the driver’s side and gets in. He starts the ignition, cranks up the air, then leans his seat back. “Ahh! Awesome! Let’s hang out till the all-clear bell rings.”
“Let’s stay,” I suggest with a wicked smile.
He smiles back. Thank God. Houston, we have confirmation of mutual makeout.
I tilt my seat back to the same level as his, turning sideways to face him. “So, where’d you get those eyes?” I swear they’re like gemstones.
“Last I knew, I was born with them.”
“No, you dork! I mean, who has blue eyes in your family? Aren’t you Spanish?”
“So?” He shrugs. “Lots of Hispanics have blue and green eyes. Hispanic means ‘from Spain,’ which is in Europe, you know. Europeans look like anything.”
Blah, blah. Blah, blah, blue eyes, blah. “Come here, you,” I say, leaning into the center console just as Liam moves in too. Our lips meet, soft and warm. After a little while, our hands begin to roam. Over necks, arms, waists, thighs. Nothing serious, but this is how it starts.
This is heaven. Really, truly, right here. In this car. Kissing Liam Blanco. Finally I feel like Desert, not Flesh’s kid, not anybody other than plain ol’ Des. Here with Li.
And a thought suddenly hits me. If Marie’s plan doesn’t work, if Crossfire goes on to make the new album, we’ll be gone again, uprooted. On the road. Crazy, screaming fans. Bus aisles for beds. Planes. Sleeping across time zones.
And that means only one painful thing to me right now. No Miami, no Liam.
We stay in the car well into fifth period. I’ll just tell Madame Girard tomorrow that I wasn’t skipping, I was practicing my French out in the field. During sixth period I can’t process a single word Mr. Evans says. Too many things on my mind. Too many to count. Only my pen tries to make sense of things.
Go, if you wish
But leave me here
I don’t want to roam.
Moonlit park
Kiss the dark
Blue eyes home.