“That whole deal with the basketball. You know I worked one of those stalls. You knew I’d be good.”
“No. But I figured you might be.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“So what was the deal?”
“With what?” she asked. She seemed truly bemused.
“With me and … him. Now he’ll be feeling, I don’t know, emasculated. He lost. I won.”
Paris smiled so wide it was like her face splitting. Only nice. Okay, ignore that simile. Let’s leave it at: she smiled wide. “Please,” she said. “If he was feeling that, then he wouldn’t be the guy for you. And now the tone has been set, you know, for your relationship. You won him a Cookie Monster. Now he’s your bitch. Not the other way around. I think St. Thomas of Aquinas said that.”
“Our relationship?”
“Come on. You’re seriously crushing. Even after an hour I can see that. And the whole deal with rushing to the side of the pier when you saw his truck?”
“I’m not—” I started to say.
“Whatever,” said Paris, waving a hand. “Anyway, he’s cute. Not the other one, Shane. The troglodyte.”
“He’s actually quite—”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure he’s an angel. But anyway, your guy? I approve.”
“Oh good,” I said. “What would I have done otherwise?”
“Not gone out with him, obviously,” said Paris.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Of course,” said Paris. “What, you’ve never had anyone look out for you before? Someone has to watch out for a person. For you, that’s me. Okay. That was inelegantly phrased. I am not on fire today. If I am a fire, I am officially out. I am, what would you say? I am damp.”
“Damp?”
“Like wood that won’t catch, you know? That’s how not on fire I am.”
I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “Well, thanks,” I said. “For watching out for me.”
“Of course. And now he has passed my stringent tests.”
“By acting cool when I won him a Cookie Monster?”
“Indeed.”
We sped up, to catch you and the others. You were off the phone now and eating your funnel cake. It left a white sugar smile around your real smile.
“Seriously, has anyone been looking after you?” asked Paris as we approached. “Your dad …”
“It’s complicated,” I said.
“He hurts you?”
“No! God, no. No, he just … it’s complicated.”
“You said.”
“Yeah.”
She linked her arm through mine. “Well, I’m here now. And I will keep you safe. I’ll be, like, your tooth fairy, watching over you.”
“I think you mean fairy godmother,” I said.
“Yeah,” said Paris, shaking her head. “I felt it even as I was saying it. Not my A game.”
I smiled.
“Hey,” said Paris. “You look nice when you smile.”
“I don’t usually smile?”
“No,” said Paris.
An uncomfortable silence.
“Oh,” I said.
“Well,” said Paris, after a while. “We’ve only just met. I mean, relatively recently. We have our whole lives ahead of us. Whole lives of smiling and fun.”
False statement.
I paid for the fun, it goes without saying.
We got home about eleven, and Dad wasn’t home yet. There were no lights on. You and Shane said good night, then went up to your apartment. Shane was nudging you with his elbow, whispering to you, and you whispered fiercely back at him. I thought … I thought maybe he was telling you to make a move.
I hoped.
But you didn’t make a move. You followed him up, and disappeared through the door.
I put my hand to my pocket where I usually kept my keys— No keys.
Oh yeah.
“You’re locked out,” said the voice.
“Uh, yes,” I said. “Because I wasn’t allowed to take keys.”
“You’ll have to wait for your dad.”
“He’ll ground me. I have a curfew.”
“Yes. That was the point of the exercise.”
“You wanted to get me grounded?”
“I wanted to get you.”
I sat down on the porch step and closed my eyes. “I thought …” I hesitated, amazed at the weirdness that had become normal in my life. “I thought we were getting along well,” I said. It sounded crazy even to me.
“You’re having too much fun,” said the voice. “It’s time you realized that I am the ****** boss around here and what I say goes. And you forgot the date.”
“The date?”
“Think about it.”
I did. Oh, Jesus. August 7. It was the day … the day …
“You ****** forgot, Cass. You forgot.”
“I didn’t mean … I just …”
“You disgust me. You are a ****** disgrace. I am going to ruin your life. I am going to break you. You are nothing.”
There was wetness on my cheeks; I touched them with my fingers, felt the tears. I didn’t mean to, I wanted to say, I didn’t even think, I didn’t say anything to Dad, didn’t mention it this morning at breakfast, and no wonder he was acting so weird and quiet when he was making pancakes.
I put my head in my hands, then I saw movement in the window of your apartment, and a moment later the door opened.
“Cass?” you called.
“Yeah.”
“You locked out?”