I already knew what that meant. Crystal gave me a sympathetic look.
I ate the rest of my meal in silence while Crystal told us about some new guy she’d met at the bar last week—he worked for a construction firm, was going through a divorce, and had a couple of kids, traveled around a lot. I wondered if that was the guy in the blue car with the shaved head. Karen was being nice, asking questions, but Mom and Dallas weren’t saying much.
“He’s a little rough around the edges, but he has potential,” Crystal said.
“Yeah, he sounds like a real winner,” Mom said.
“Hey, at least I try,” Crystal said.
Mom flushed. She never had a boyfriend, said she was too busy working and raising a kid, and Dallas was casual with her boyfriend. Terry was a nice guy, worked at a restaurant nearby, and they’d dated for, like, a year. Mom said Dallas was scared to commit. I think she just wasn’t that into him. I’d seen him try to rub her back or hold her hand and she’d pull away.
“You should try dating somebody nice for a change,” Dallas said.
“Nice is boring.” Crystal said it with a smile but she sounded kind of sad. I didn’t understand why she was always attracted to jerks. I hadn’t had a boyfriend myself yet. Well, not a real one. I’d fooled around with a few guys at school but hadn’t gone all the way. If Mom had her wish I’d probably die a virgin.
Crystal poured the rest of the wine in her glass. Dallas gave her a look, and Crystal just smiled. I wished I could be like that, not giving a crap what anyone else thought. She just did whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted.
*
Dallas gave us a ride home. She and Mom talked in the front seat while I listened to music on my phone and checked my Facebook.
I walked into our apartment and threw my purse onto the hook, missing by a mile. It hit the floor with a thud.
“Seriously, Skylar?” Mom said.
I hung it up, then collapsed onto the couch, picked up the remote, and started flipping through the channels.
“Why can’t I see the Headkickers?”
“You’re underage.”
“I won’t drink—I swear.”
Mom snorted. I’d been in trouble a few times for drinking and even got suspended last year for smoking pot in the bathroom with a friend, which Crystal thought was hysterical. Mom not so much. I wasn’t, like, a stoner or anything, so what was the problem with getting a little buzzed now and then?
“Crystal will watch out for me.”
“Crystal will be working. Do you know how many drunk assholes will be at the bar? You have no idea how to deal with that.”
“I’m seventeen—not stupid. When you were my age, you already had a kid.”
My mom’s face flushed, and I felt bad. I hadn’t meant it that way, was just trying to remind her I was growing up.
“This conversation is over,” she said as she walked toward the bathroom.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next Saturday night, I drove to Crystal’s. I had an older red Honda Civic that Mom, Dallas, and Patrick and Karen had helped me buy for my sixteenth birthday. Crystal had been broke at the time—her boyfriend had taken off with all her money—but she’d bought me a heart-shaped air freshener that made it smell like strawberries and made me a mixed CD with some cool tunes.
Mom thought I was over at Emily’s for the night. When I was younger and Mom had to work all weekend, I stayed at Emily’s, and her parents had invited me on a few trips to their summer cabin. They were teachers and super-nice but they were also strict, so that made it okay with Mom. She used to call Emily’s mom to get parenting advice. I hated it at the time, but now Mom didn’t even follow up with Emily’s mom whenever I said I was heading over there.
Crystal lived in a basement suite about twenty minutes from the gym. When I got there all her windows were open and I could hear music, something with a hard beat. I knocked a couple of times before she turned the music down and finally opened the door. She was wearing faded jeans shorts, the top button undone and the waist rolled over, and a black bikini top.
“Come on in.” She walked into her kitchen, bare feet padding on the tile, reached into the fridge, and pulled out a wine cooler. “Want one?”
“Sure.”
She grabbed another for herself. “Let’s smoke a joint before I get ready.”
“Cool.” I followed her into the living room, where we sat next to each other on the couch.
“Your mom figure anything out?” She pulled a joint out of a little box she kept on the side table.
“I don’t think so.”
Crystal lit the end of the joint, inhaling until it glowed, then held the smoke in her lungs as she passed it to me. I took a deep drag.
“God, it’s hot.” She ran her hands through her hair, then took a sip of her drink.
My body felt relaxed, my eyes heavy. I sank back into the couch.
“Hope we meet some cute boys tonight,” I said.
“That hottie at the gym was sure checking you out the other day.”