I’m awakened by my phone vibrating in my hand. It’s Dallas calling me. I ignore the call and text him, so I don’t wake up Katie.
Me: Shit, I fell asleep. You at the cave?
Dallas: Yes, ma’am, hurry!
Me: Anyone else there, besides you vampires?
Dallas: Nope :)
Me: I’m bringing garlic.
Dallas: I brought herb :)
Me: You’re my hero, seriously.
Dallas: Oh boy, am I gonna hear the life and times of Kiki again?
Me: Shut up, I’m here.
“Can we not smoke tonight?”
“Sure, but why?”
“I need you level headed.”
“Aye aye, captain.”
“Plus, I’ve had about enough of high-ass boys who don’t give a shit one way or another.”
“Are you referring to moi?”
“No, B.”
“Tell me.”
So I do.
And then I say, “So why can’t he just say, I love you, I don’t want you to date anyone else? Or say, I don’t really love you. Why does love screw everything up?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever really been in love.”
“Well, I know this. Best friend love sucks ass.”
“You’re my new best friend. I love you. It doesn’t suck. I mean, unless it wants to.”
“You used that joke the other night. It’s still not funny.”
“You need to chill.”
“I’m tired of chilling!”
He fires up a joint, takes a hit, and hands it to me, ignoring my request.
“Okay, how about a change of subject?”
“Maybe.”
“What do you think of boarding school so far? Yea or nay?”
“It’s okay, I guess. I miss home. How about you?”
“Same. I’m not really homesick. I don’t miss my friends as much as I thought I would. Course, now I have you and Riley and even though we haven’t known each other that long, I think we’re closer than I was with my friends from home. There’s always plenty of stuff to do, and it’s cool that your friends are always around, but I could see it might get old. Like, how sometimes when you just feel like not being around anyone, you couldn’t get away. That’s why I like when we come out here on weeknights. Just us. Getting away.”
What Dallas just said, about how we’re closer than his friends from home. I mean, like, AAAAWW!
“Dallas.”
“What?”
“You said we’re close. I didn’t know if I would make any friends here. I’m lucky I already have.”
He smiles.
“How come you came here your junior year, anyway?” I don’t want him to know that I know he’s a senator’s son. I want him to tell me. I understand what it’s like to have a well-known parent.
“My dad’s in politics. Actually, he’s a senator. I’m an embarrassment to him. He has an election coming up. He sent me here.”
“So you really didn’t want to come either?”
“No.”
“What happened? How could you possibly be an embarrassment? You’re adorable.”
“I got caught smoking weed, by the cops. I got tickets for being under the influence, for possession, for paraphernalia. I told him if he really wanted to get elected, he’d work to legalize weed.” He laughs. “That didn’t go over so well. He told me I was an embarrassment to the family and sent me here. But it’s cool. I actually like it. How bout you?”
I want to tell him. I really do want to tell him the truth. I know he’s trustworthy, I can feel it, but I can’t. So I tell the lie.
“I had some trouble too. Then my mom and stepdad decided to move to France. It was go there or come here.”
“Sucks, but I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Thanks. So, how’s the wrist?”
“Feeling better now, but I think I’m going to have to get it x-rayed. And since I know you’re dying to ask, the psychic panty network is doing quite well. You’d be shocked—hell, I was shocked—at how many girls will show me their underwear just to prove me wrong.”
I can’t help but giggle.
Then he grabs my face and pulls me into a kiss.
I ought to be an expert.
2:30am
I quietly sneak into our bathroom and call Mom.
“Hey-woah.” I hear the unmistakable voice of my sweet little sister, Gracelyn, and laugh at the adorable way she says hello.
“Gracie, it’s Kiki. Give Mommy her phone.”
“KI KI KI KI KI KI!!!” she screams into the phone. “Kikikiki on a ’venture!” she sings.
“Can I talk to Mommy?”
“NO! No, no, no, no, NO!” I hear clanking, and then it sounds like she’s beating Mom’s new iPhone against a wall or the floor.
Pretty soon, I hear a commotion, then one of the triplets, probably Avery, the oldest by a few minutes and the most bossy, yells, “Gwey-sie, give me Momma’s phone!”
And then Gracie screams, “NO!” I can picture her holding it to her chest, that stubborn little look on her face, “Mine!”
Then Avery tattling, “MOMMMAAAA!!!”
Then, click.
About five minutes later, Tommy calls me from his phone.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“Yeah, can I talk to Mom?”