“That’s crazy,” Clarisse breathed and No stared at her.
“It isn’t crazy, Reesee,” he said quietly. “Half the single Moms in town go to high school basketball games and it isn’t because their sons are playing. They don’t have sons playing. It’s because Dad never misses a game.”
She leaned in deep and hissed, “That’s crazy.”
“Rees, it’s true. Totally. He’s a guy. He’s single. He’s tall. Trust me, girls like tall guys, I know this for a fact. And Dad’s tall. And girls tell me he’s hot.” He grinned and finished, “I wouldn’t know, seein’ as I’m a guy but I look like him and I’m smokin’ hot so he’s gotta be hot.”
Clarisse didn’t reply. This was mostly because she was a girl and so, even though it was gross, it wasn’t lost on her that both her brother and her Dad were hot. And even if it could be lost on her, all her friends telling her how hot her brother was all the time would mean it wouldn’t be for long. And No was right, he looked a lot like Dad.
“Anyway,” No muttered, moving toward his guitar, “I hope he’s talkin’ to a woman. It was fucked up, the way it used to be. Mom always screamin’. Dad always pissed. His mouth always that weird tight ‘cause he was tryin’ to keep that crap from us. And now we’re not around much and he’s alone a lot. Be cool he wasn’t alone but instead with some babe who didn’t make his mouth that weird tight.” He picked up his guitar, sat on his bed and put it on his thighs before finishing, “And, if he’s got a hot babe, Dad won’t be up in our shit so much.”
At any other time, Clarisse would agree with this final statement.
Their Mom didn’t give much of a shit. Their Dad did, like, a lot, and sometimes it could be annoying.
But maybe some “hot babe” wouldn’t like her Dad spending Friday night with Clarisse and ice cream and scary movies. Maybe she’d want him spending Friday nights with her somewhere drinking martinis or…whatever.
Clarisse didn’t know what to think of this. The only thing she knew was that she didn’t like it much.
No started strumming and she focused on him.
No could watch some YouTube video with some geek explaining how to play “Stairway to Heaven” or whatever and do it over and over again for an hour and have the song down pat.
Now that, she thought, was totally cool.
And probably some random woman their Dad was dating would think what everyone thought, that No was cool.
But Clarisse didn’t have anything to make her cool. So some random woman their Dad was dating wouldn’t have anything to think about her.
No, she didn’t like this much.
Maybe she should give herself an awesome nickname and talk No into teaching her how to play drums or something.
No took her out of her thoughts when he announced, “It’s seven thirty, Rees. Dad’s gonna be hittin’ us both up to see we got our homework done. I already told him I need his help with shit. Do you have yours done?”
No. She did not.
Dang.
No read her like he always did and like the pain in the butt big brother he always was, he ordered quietly, “Better get on that, Reesee.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, turned on her foot and left the room.
She heard her father’s voice murmuring from the office. He was still talking to that woman.
Dang.
She heard her brother strumming his guitar. It was idle, he wasn’t into it yet, warming up, getting the feel. Still, it sounded good.
Dang.
She walked to her room and shut the door.
Once there, she stopped and looked around. After her Dad moved out of their old place and bought this house, he made certain sure she had the room she wanted. She picked the paint and furniture and everything.
Yellows and blues and butterflies and vampire posters.
She was going to be fifteen in a few weeks.
Butterflies and vampires.
She totally needed a new look.
She spent the next fifteen minutes taking down the vampire posters, scratching off the gum on the backs of the posters and the walls, rolling them up and stowing them in her closet.
Her head was in her closet when there came a knock at her door.
She pulled her head out just as her Dad walked in and stopped.
“Homework?” he asked.
“Uh…not quite.”
He sighed.
She hated it when he did that and these days, with her, for some reason it seemed she made him do it a lot.
“Desk, Reesee,” he ordered quietly.
It was her turn to sigh.
He stood there, crossing his arms on his chest, waiting.
She walked to her desk and pulled out her books.
She felt her Dad’s hand wrap light around the side of her neck about a second before she felt his lips brush the top of her hair.
“Most beautiful girl in the world,” he muttered there then let her go and she felt him leave.
If he had a hot babe, would he still think she was the most beautiful girl in the world?
Probably not.
Dang.
She looked over her shoulder at the clock by her bed.