The Green
Karly Kirkpatrick
Copyright © 2012 by Karly Kirkpatrick
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author or publisher.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, photocopying, mechanical, or otherwise, without prior permission of the author.
About the Author
Karly Kirkpatrick loves reading and writing YA books. She has written three novels, Into the Shadows and Bloody Little Secrets, The Green, and a collection of short stories titled EIGHT. Learn more about Karly on her website, www.karlykirkpatrick.com.
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Acknowledgements
The Green was written in 2009 and spent a long time on the shelf. I’d like to thank quite a few people for pushing me to put it out there. Thanks to Sarah Barthel, Natalie Rompella, and Linda McReynolds for the first read through and the awesome “Green” themed cake. Many thanks to Michelle Sussman, Megg Jensen, G.P. Ching, and Angela Carlie for their thorough critiques. Also, another round of thanks to Adrian Hutchinson for his excellent proofing. And many thanks to Richard and Annikka and my family for giving me the time to see my dreams through.
For Richard
Prologue
College Resumé
Name: Ariceli Pisa
Age: 17
School: Cambridge High School / Journalism Academy, Cambridge, IL
GPA: 4.0
Extracurricular Activities: Cheerleader; Editor for the Cambridge Cutlass Newspaper; Class Council Treasurer; Member of Principal’s Advisory Council; National Honor Society; French Club
Volunteer Work: Slate Park soup kitchen
Intended Major: Broadcast Journalism
Work Experience: Drug Dealer (or maybe ‘Street Pharmacist’ would be more appropriate?)
So I suppose that last part really won’t go over very well if I plan on getting good recommendations from my teachers. And I know what you’re thinking. Drug dealer? It’s so cliché.
But yes, that’s me. I’m an honor student and a drug dealer. Parents will probably wonder where my mom went wrong. How could she raise such a terrible daughter? But don’t be so quick to judge me, because I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere if people like you weren’t trading The Green for the green herb. It was all too easy. Nobody ever noticed me, in and out with a pocket full of cash.
The bottom line is just that—all that matters in this world is The Green. If you don’t have it, it’s all you want. If you have it, you’ll do anything to keep it. Money makes the world go round. And before I started dealing, I was pretty much standing still.
Chapter 1
Hot water cascaded over me. Burning. Cleansing. I hoped it would wash away the musty smell that seemed to cling to my hair and clothes. I wondered if people at school noticed it or if it was just me. I didn’t even want to think about what moldy nastiness lurked in our basement apartment’s walls. After lathering, rinsing, and repeating, I stepped out into the steamy bathroom and wiped the mirror down with a towel. The exhaust fan broke months ago and the landlord keeps claiming he’ll fix it ‘next week.’
I swept my dark brown hair, almost black really, into a high ponytail. Everything about me was brown. Brown eyes. Brown skin. Smooth and silky, the color of rich mocha. Hair stick straight and long. If you saw me in a National Geographic magazine, I would be dressed like my Quechua relatives in Ecuador. Colorful skirts and a Panama hat. Hooked nose. Except if I lived in Ecuador with them, I’d live in a hut and hike up my skirts so I could pee in the streets. I was the upgraded version. Like them, but prettier and cleaner. And I used a toilet. Which is good because I’m guessing peeing in the streets would be frowned upon in most American towns.
I tied a red ribbon around my ponytail. Now I looked like the other cheerleaders. A bright shiny package that all the people at school could look at and admire.
After a few quick strokes with a mascara brush and some powder, I popped into my room and grabbed my hot-pink backpack off the bed. I secured the door behind me with a giant padlock and walked to the front door.
“Hey, Ariceli, where you goin’? Can you get me a pop?” slurred my brother Nando from the couch. I cringed.
“No, I’m gonna be late for school. Get it your damn self,” I snapped.
“School is for fuckin’ losers.” He chuckled.
My blood pressure rose, my face and neck heating up. His eyes were almost swollen shut from a night of partying.
“Because I suppose being wasted at six-thirty on a Tuesday morning makes you not a fucking loser? And neither does living on your mother’s couch when you’re twenty-one? Which one is it Nando?”
“God, you’re such a bitch.” He slouched back on the couch and snickered at a cartoon on the TV.
“Fuck you, Nando.” I slammed the door, climbing the steps out of the dungeon, I mean basement apartment, and headed to the bus stop.
Mom had taken on two jobs just so we could move to this shitty apartment because it was in the right school district for me. Out of the five high schools in the district, Cambridge High was the best, and one of the top schools in the suburbs of Chicago. Way better than any school I could have gone to on the South Side of Chicago.
My fancy short yellow limousine pulled up right on time for the twenty-minute drive to school. It was nearly empty, being that I was one of only a few kids from crappy Slate Park that Delores, the bus driver, had to pick up. Most kids here went to Slate Park High, but when I saw that Cambridge had a journalism academy, I knew that’s where I had to go. All you needed to get in was an essay and great grades. It was a piece of cake for me.
I tried to ignore the rundown strip malls and apartment buildings of Slate Park. When we crossed the town line into Cambridge, the scenery changed drastically. Tree-lined streets of shops and cafes led to my three-story, red brick high school.
I stepped discreetly off the bus; most people drove to school and I would rather not be seen with my awesome mode of transportation. I slipped into the crowd and let it push me through the halls. Every day passed pretty much the same. Paste it on—the plastic smile. Yes ma’am, yes sir. My, isn’t she a polite girl. What a good attitude. She’ll go far. And good for her, she deserves it. She’s such a hard worker.
Today was a day for something new. Energy crackled around me when I walked into Journalism.
“Hey, Ari, did you finish your Calc homework?” asked a deep, velvety voice from across the room. A chill slipped down my spine as I listened to my name roll off his tongue. Mmm, delicious.
“Of course!” I tried to keep a doofy smile from forming on my face.
“Did you have any trouble with number twelve?” His long legs nearly touched my short ones across the aisle.
I pulled my notebook out of my bag. “Nope. But you can look at it if you want.”
“Thanks! Did I ever tell you that you’re my favorite?” He shook his head, tossing his dark hair out of his bright green eyes.
“Your favorite what?”
“Oh, Ari, my favorite everything.” He taunted me with his cute dimples.
He was such a flirt. I was pretty sure he couldn’t tell I was blushing though. That was one benefit of having brown skin. That and all the leathery blond chicks hated me because I had the ‘perfect’ tan.
And for some reason I was feeling lucky today. James Bartlett was not only the hottest guy in school—he was also the nicest. He always made a point to compliment me in some way everyday. And I was totally in love with him, not that it mattered, of course. For the last two years he dated the head cheerleader, Naomi Standish. Oh, and did I leave out the fact that she was my best friend? And no, she didn’t know that I loved her man from afar.
Besides, he and Naomi were the perfect couple. They’d probably date through college, get married and be successful at whatever they did and have a million extremely attractive babies.
“So what’s new?” I asked James.
Our Journalism teacher, Ms. Simmons, searched frantically through her materials at the front of the class.
“You didn’t talk to Naomi last night?” He leaned closer to me and I caught a light scent, soap or cologne, it didn’t matter.
“Nope. After practice I had a ton of homework, so I turned my phone off. I must have forgotten to turn it back on.”
“Ohhh,” he said as he raised his eyebrows. “So you don’t know?” His eyes searched my face.
“Know what?”
“Naomi and I broke up.”
Thud. That was the sound of my jaw hitting the floor. I shut it quickly, hoping I wasn’t gaping at him like looky-lous at a car accident on the expressway.
“What?!” I said in disbelief. I fished my cell phone out of my backpack and pressed the power button. I scrolled through the messages and found one with Naomi’s name at the top. She was going to kill me.
As he opened his mouth to answer, Ms. Simmons finally got her stuff together and started talking to us about some project she was going to have us work on. I usually only listened to half of what she said anyway. One of the joys of being brilliant meant I didn’t have to pay attention all the time. I shoved the phone into the pocket of my backpack before I could read Naomi’s message. I just hoped Ms. Simmons hadn’t seen it or she’d take it away.
I whipped out my notebook and wrote furiously as she droned on.
What happened?
I passed it discreetly. It didn’t matter. Ms. Simmons was so involved in what she was saying that she barely paid any attention to us.
I don’t know. We just weren’t going anywhere.
What does that mean. We’re in high school. Where is it supposed to go?
I don’t know, we just weren’t getting along and we needed a break.
So does that mean you might get back together?
I don’t think so.
Is she really upset?
No, she seemed okay really.
“Ms. Pisa and Mr. Bartlett, I do hope you are paying attention up here.” Ms. Simmons burst my bubble and broke our conversation. A few heads in front of us turned around, and I detected some snickers.
“Yes ma’am,” I responded, attempting to look like I had been taking meticulous notes.
James gave me a sideways glance and smiled, his dimples showing again. I could pitch a tent in those things.
“You are such a kiss-ass,” he whispered.
I rolled my eyes and shot him a dirty look. But really I wanted to jump across the aisle into his arms and confess my undying love to him. Although upon further review, I decided that this might be a bit extreme. I mean, they did just break up AND Naomi was my best friend. I really should be concerned with how she was doing instead of developing elaborate plans on how to snap up her newly-single man. Wasn’t I such a good friend? She had to get over it sometime, right? And I’d be waiting when she did.
Chapter 2
Before I could get anything else out of him about the breakup, I received a pass from my counselor, Mr. Paulsen. Talk about bad timing. It was time to work on my college applications, and he probably wanted to see how far I was.
I stepped into Paulsen’s office. College posters covered the walls and a Grateful Dead flag hung in the corner. A lava lamp sat on his desk, a big blob of green goo undulating in the middle. Clearly someone had forgotten the seventies were over.
“Ari, nice to see you! So, have you been working on those college applications?” He motioned to a bright green plastic chair in front of him.
“Hi Mr. Paulsen. Um, I’ve started on them but haven’t quite finished yet,” I said, sitting down.
“Just remember that most of them are due at the end of the month. Make sure you check the applications online for the deadlines.” He leaned back in his chair, trying to look cool with his ponytail and corduroys. What a hippie dork. “By the way, I was looking through the list of schools you left me and I want to talk to you about them. You have Northwestern on there. That’s your number one school?”
“Yes, it has the one of the best journalism programs in the whole country and it’s close to home,” I said and fiddled with my backpack zipper.
“I just want to make sure you are aware that Northwestern is an extremely expensive school. I just think it would be a great financial burden on your family. If you wanted to be more economical, you could try one of the state schools. You definitely qualify for financial aid, but it won’t be enough to cover the cost of going to Northwestern.”
“So what you’re saying is that I’m too poor to go to Northwestern?” I tried to keep my voice even. I smiled politely but narrowed my eyes.
“Well, I just think your economic situation could pose a challenge. I don’t make the rules. I’m just trying to let you know what you’re up against. The government caps student loans at $25,000 a year, and Northwestern is about $40,000 a year.”
“What about scholarships? I’m the top of my class. I have a 4.0!”
“That is an option, but competition is tough. Northwestern has so many students applying from all over the country that have 4.0s. Feel free to look in the scholarship files out in the lobby. There are even specific scholarships for Latino students. Maybe you can find some that would work for you. And good luck! But remember, it’s always good to have a Plan B.” He reached out to shake my hand like we were best friends. I shook it, my hand limp.
“Um, thanks Mr. Paulsen,” I said. Thanks for nothing.
I flipped through the files, finding a few scholarships for books and tuition, but most were for $500 to $1000. What the hell good would it do me to buy books when I couldn’t afford the tuition?
Northwestern was a long shot, but I would still apply there. In order to be a top journalist I really needed to go to a top school or I’d end up reading the weather for a station somewhere in Arkansas. I wanted to be a newscaster. I wanted to tell people the stories of the day. I wanted to be Charles Gibson. You know, that old guy on ABC. He used to be on Good Morning America and then did the evening world news. He was a god of modern journalism. And I wanted to be just like him. Except for the old white man part. And he went to Northwestern. So I was going to Northwestern. Or at least I was going to try to go to Northwestern any way I could.
$$$
The last thing I wanted to do today was see Naomi at practice. Despite my crappy meeting with Paulsen, I couldn’t stop thinking about James and his pretty brown hair and pretty green eyes. He probably wouldn’t like them being described as pretty, but they were nonetheless. And standing in front of Naomi, all I could picture was James kissing me, just like in the movies, our mouths pressed passionately together, fingers tangled in one another’s hair. I shoved the beautiful picture to the back of my mind and tried to focus on my best friend. I entered the locker room, heading to our row of lockers.
“Naomi!” I spread my arms out, wrapping her in a tight hug. “James told me what happened.”
“Ugh, what did he say?” She pushed back, readjusting her hair, even though I had barely touched it. Naomi always looked perfectly perfect. She had long dark hair that sat in a sexy and perfect sweep of bangs across her face, half covering one of her big brown eyes. She was the girl everyone hated because no matter what time of day or night, neither rain nor snow nor sleet could make Naomi look any less then perfect. It was freaky.
But I loved her anyway. And even though she could be bitchy as cheer captain sometimes, she knew who her loyal friends were and she treated me as her equal, which was not the case with everyone else. Being Naomi’s equal gave me access to a certain status in school that, as a girl who likes to do her homework, I wouldn’t normally have just because I wasn’t cool enough. Being one of the few Latinas at school, I had to work any angle I had to get ahead.
“All he said was that you guys broke up. It sounded pretty mutual. Was it?” I pried, trying to sound as concerned as possible.
“Yeah, I guess it was. I feel better now that it’s over, but I still feel weird. I don’t know, I guess I just felt it wasn’t going anywhere.” She twisted a lock of her hair, curling it around her bright pink acrylic fingernail.
“Yeah, but I tried asking him that too. What does that mean? We’re graduating soon, so are you saying that you don’t see yourself with him in the future?” I pushed, really wanting to know just how ‘over’ this relationship was.
“I don’t know, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like, I just looked at him one day and thought…this is so over.” She adjusted her tiny black shorts that had ‘BEBE’ across the butt in sequins and the matching super-tight black shirt. “Come on, let’s go.”
I changed quickly into tiny black shorts severely lacking in sequins and a red Cambridge Cheer shirt and followed her into the gym where the other girls were stretching out and getting ready for practice. This was considered the ‘small’ gym, which by any other school’s standards, would be their main gym. I was happy we had it all to ourselves today; sometimes we shared with the pom squad. Ick.
“But you said you feel better now, huh?” I linked my arm through hers as we crossed the gym to the middle of the floor.
“Yeah, I do. Ha, ha, but we’ll see how long that lasts. I don’t know how I feel about him dating someone else.” She squeezed my arm.
Shit. Well, it was early yet. Maybe some other girl could be the victim of Naomi’s wrath first. But hey, I guess we would just have to cross that bridge when we got to it. It’s not like James knew I liked him, and Jesus, he was a free man for the first time in two years, a senior, a damn good basketball player, and did I mention he was hot as hell? So I was pretty sure he wouldn’t be getting into another long-term relationship tomorrow. Other than his harmless flirting, I had no indication that he really liked me. He probably thought of me as just a friend. Because I was. I was his now ex-girlfriend’s best friend. Too much baggage.
“Well, Ari, keep me posted if you see anybody trying to make a move. Then maybe I’ll know for sure if I’m really over him.”
“Sure thing babe!” Fake smile. Fake smile.
“Alright, let’s get this practice started!” Naomi clapped her hands and the other girls came running as the sound echoed through the gym.
Chapter 3
Homework
Class council meeting
Cheer practice
French Club
Cheer at the basketball game Friday night
Stare at James (which was awesome)
The week flew by quickly, crashing into the weekend, where time crawled. Luckily, Mom was nice enough to let me drive her to and from work on Saturday so I could take the car to practice. Not that there was much going on otherwise. I had a ton of homework AND still had to finish my college applications.
After organizing everything into piles around my room I decided I wasn’t going to get any further unless I got something to drink. I unlocked the padlock on my door and headed out to the kitchen.
Padlocking the bedroom door is clearly not the most normal thing in the world, but it was necessary. Nando, in addition to being a lowlife on many levels, was also a thief. If I didn’t lock my room, things turned up missing. I locked it from the inside when I slept because I didn’t want him coming in to swipe my stuff. I locked it from the outside when I left the apartment. Mom preferred to live in ignorance and pretend that she lost things instead.
As shitty as our basement apartment was, I was quite proud of my room. It was the nicest part of the whole place. For my sixteenth birthday when my mom asked what I wanted, I told her a can of paint and maybe some money to spend at IKEA to spruce up my room.
With a cheap bookcase and bedside table, some new sheets and a comforter, a couple of pictures of my friends and Island Paradise blue paint, it was the perfect sanctuary. Mom also gave me her little TV because she felt bad that Nando had hijacked the one in the living room. No one but him could watch it if he was home and she didn’t want to ‘disturb’ him. Besides, she was never home to watch it between her two jobs. If she wasn’t washing clothes at the dry cleaners, she was cleaning office buildings. So that pretty much left me, and Nando I suppose, to take care of the apartment.
That was the other thing—I liked to keep my room immaculate. I used to try to keep the apartment as clean as possible but when Nando came back it was pointless. Every time I cleaned something up he would drop ashes from his joints on the floor or drop his bag of chips or spill his beer. It was always something. He got it in his head that I was his maid and started ordering me to clean stuff up. That ended pretty quickly after I whacked him with the mop.
Nando sat with someone in the living room, but I didn’t have the time or the energy to worry about what they were doing in there. It smelled like pot, but that was pretty much an every day occurrence.
“Hey, Ariceli, what are you doing?” Nando yelled.
“Leave me alone, Nando, I have work to do.” I growled back, hoping he would take a hint that I wasn’t in the mood.
“Is there any pop in the fridge?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you bring me one?”
“No.”
“Aw, come on, just be nice for once,” he said.
Realizing it would be easier to just bring him the pop, I grabbed a can and tossed it at him, just missing his crotch. I’ve gotta work on my aim.
“Heya, Ariceli, your brother is a rude-ass dick,” the other person said from the couch. I knew that voice. Nando’s best friend, Javier. He hadn’t been out here since Nando had moved from the city.
“Hi Javier, what brings you to the ‘burbs? Selling out like us?” I asked. Javier was always attractive, but there was something rippling underneath the surface that I couldn’t quite read. When I glanced at his warm caramel skin and light eyes I still couldn’t totally fall for it.
“I’m no fucking sell out!” mumbled Nando from the couch. He sipped his Pepsi. “I keep it real.”
“You’re so right Nando. So real. Where’s this real job you speak of?” I jabbed back.
“Nando is working, he’s working for me.” Javier smiled at me.
“No offense, Javi, but I would hardly call what you do work. Selling dope to pot heads is not a real job.” I snorted.
“Oooo, Ariceli, that hurts, right here,” he said, covering his heart with his hands. “Come on baby, why you gotta be so mean? And something that pays this kinda green has got to be a real job.” He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out a fat roll of twenties.
“Whatever Javi.” I cringed when he said baby and rolled my eyes, but was slightly mesmerized by the wad of cash. “You two are idiots.”
I headed back in my room, locking my padlock and turning up the TV. It must be nice to do nothing and make a ton of cash. But dreaming about money I didn’t have wasn’t going to finish my homework or get my applications done. Back to work.
Chapter 4
I jolted awake, nearly falling out of bed. My door and picture frames rattled and someone, or something was banging against the wall of my room. The glowing numbers of the clock showed six-thirty in the morning. My brain was full of cobwebs—it was Sunday. Mom was at work and Nando usually didn’t come back this early. I figured anything was possible, so I rolled over and attempted to go back to sleep. The noise didn’t stop. Great. He was either drunk or high or god knows what and was trashing the place.
I fumbled with the lock, trying to steady my quaking fingers. I mean, someone could be totally robbing the place and I didn’t really want to walk out into that. To be sure I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Nando’s number. His ridiculously loud Jay-Z ringtone “Big Pimpin’” rang outside the door.
He slammed his fist on my door.
“Why the fuck are you calling me Ariceli?” His voice sounded tense.
I unlocked the door peeked my head out, my eyes roving around the apartment to see what he was doing. There were piles of clothes and DVDs on the floor and Nando was throwing everything in the hall closet out onto the floor.
“What the hell are you doing? I called you because I was worried someone was robbing the place and I didn’t want to get shot. Excuse me, but I’m not the one tearing up the place at six-thirty on a Sunday morning.”
“You don’t understand Ariceli. I gotta get the fuck outta here,” he whined, sounding a bit like a caged animal. No puffy eyes this morning. Wild, calculating eyes that were wide-awake.
“Why don’t you calm down and tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help you,” I said, trying to keep my cool. Jesus, if he had to leave, did it mean I had to go too?
“I got arrested last night, but they let me out!”
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand how that is a problem. Isn’t it a good thing when they let you go?” I asked.
“No. In my situation it’s bad. Really bad.” He sat down for a minute, his head in his hands. “Look, I have to report to Javier, and Javier reports to the Big Boss. Now Javier knows I’m not a rat, but the Big Boss, well he doesn’t know me that well. They’re gonna think that the 5-0 let me go because I named names or some shit, even though I didn’t say a word. Those pigs are just fucking with me. So they let me go on bond but I’m supposed to go to court next month. The boss will kill me before then.”
“So where are you gonna go? You can’t just up and leave and not show up to court. They’ll throw you in jail!” I slapped him on the shoulder. “God Nando, what the fuck were you thinking? You deal drugs. It’s illegal.”
“I fucking know that Ariceli. You can’t help me. No one can help me. I fucked up big time. And now I gotta go.” He rubbed his hands over his head as fat tears rolled down his cheeks.
“For real, where are you gonna go?” Despite the shit he was in, my heart dropped a little. This was my big brother. I looked away, embarrassed by his tears.
“It’s probably better that you don’t know. I just gotta find a bag and I can get the hell outta here.” He got up again and headed toward the closet.
“Hold on.” I went into my room and grabbed a duffle bag from my closet.
“Here. Just take this.” I shoved it at him.
“Thanks.” He turned his back on me as I tried to stuff the mess back into the closet.
“Are you even going to tell Mom?” I asked.
“I don’t have time to wait for her to get here and I can’t talk to her over the phone. It’s too dangerous.”
“Dammit Nando, so now I have to explain to Mom why you skipped town.” My voice rose. “You can’t just leave like that. She’s gonna freak out.”
He said nothing. Silent. Typical man, leaving his family in the lurch. Such a pig. What little pity I’d felt for him disappeared. I wanted to punch him. Make him hurt like I knew it would hurt Mom. She would worry and pray for him. I didn’t care if he left. Good. We could finally have the house back to ourselves. No Nando. No hijacked living room. No drugs. No asshole brother. Fine. But it wasn’t that easy.
“You know what, Nando?” I threw one of his shoes at him. “Fuck you. Go. But don’t ever think you can come back. You’ve done nothing for us and I’m glad you’re leaving.“ I threw another shoe, hitting him in the head.
He roared to life, leaping across the room and grabbing me by the throat. He slammed me against the wall.
“Look, you fucking preppy bitch, you think you’ve got it all figured out? You’re so high and mighty ‘cause you go to the good school and you get good grades. You cheer real good for those white boys. You should be thanking me anyways—Mom could’ve never afforded this apartment without me, you sell-out bitch.”
He slapped me hard, my face whipped around. My neck burned. Fingers pressing. No air. Everything was getting dark. Shadows formed around the edges of my vision. I tried to scream but no sounds came out.
“Go fuck your white boys, whore. Maybe they’ll give you some cash so you can stay at your preppy ass school.”
One more slap. This time I tasted blood. He threw me to the floor. Just a pile of garbage. Swift kick to the ribs.
I lay for a while, sucking air. My lungs were happy but my ribs were not. Every breath brought fresh, stabbing pain. I tried not to cry. I didn’t want that prick to think he’d gotten to me.
I dragged myself back to my room while he threw things in a bag. My hands found the doorframe and I pulled myself up, slammed the door, and pressed the padlock into place. It was a short crawl to the bed. My head was a speeding merry-go-round. I couldn’t believe Nando was selling drugs so I could stay at Cambridge, more because he was an asshole than anything else. He didn’t do nice things for people.
I raised my hands to my face. I didn’t have a mirror in the room to look at it, but I could feel it was swelling. My neck was tender. I hoped it wasn’t bruised too badly. There was no way I could explain this to Mom.
I could see that conversation now. Your son left town because he’s afraid of the head drug dealer who thinks he snitched to the cops and we got into a fight while he was packing and he kicked the shit out of me. Right.
Mom would cry for him (even though he doesn’t deserve it) and then cry for me and then drink until it didn’t hurt anymore.
Then I’d be alone to figure it out myself. Tears slid down my cheeks because my ribs hurt so badly, but I had no one to call. Mom was at work and couldn’t take calls. Besides I didn’t want to call there and risk her losing her job over this. Who else? Naomi? James? I laughed out loud at the thought. Which hurt the ribs again, so I stopped.
They would struggle to comprehend this hot mess. In their cookie cutter suburban houses with neat lawns and flowers on the front porch, they sat comfortable while Mom and Dad brought home the bacon and bought them nice things. People got beaten on TV shows, not in their living rooms. I tried not to bring my friends to the shitty basement apartment in Slate Park where the grass was brown and no one planted flowers because they couldn’t afford it. Where we were lucky if we had a parent at all, let alone one that earned enough money to put Ramen on the table.
Here we put on the fake smile and kept it to ourselves. We dealt with it. And that was just what I planned to do right now. Deal with it. In the future, I wouldn’t have to worry about this shit. I’d have money and a spot on the news, doing my thing. These bruises would heal and they’d make me stronger. Harden this brown skin until it was a rock. Unbreakable.
I didn’t want to leave my room until I knew Nando was gone. I turned on the TV and burrowed under the covers. My head was full. All I could think about was how to explain to Mom what happened. Was what Nando said really true? If we couldn’t afford this place, we couldn’t stay here and our options were not good. If we had to go back to the city I wouldn’t be able to finish my year at Cambridge. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving my friends. I had built a life for myself at that school and I wasn’t ready to walk away from it. More tears slipped from my eyes. I cried for myself this time.
Chapter 5
I must have dozed off at some point because when I woke up later the apartment was eerily quiet. The only sound was my TV. My eyes struggled to open, the lids felt heavy, like they weighed a hundred pounds. The neon numbers of the clock blazed in the dark room, showing eleven in the morning.
My ribs ached. Pain raced through my core as I rolled to a seated position. Time to inspect the damage. I removed the padlock. If Nando was really gone, I wouldn’t need this anymore. I slipped across the hallway and into the bathroom.
The mirror did not show a pretty picture. A deep purple puff had inflated under my left eye. Dried blood crusted in a crack on my swollen lip. Little flecks of purpley-red dotted my neck like an ugly necklace. Dammit. I would have to work with some makeup and scarves to cover up this mess. I pulled up my shirt to check out my ribs. A wretched reddish-purple welt ran along my ribs, heat radiating from my throbbing skin. I wasn’t sure if they were broken or just bruised. Maybe I could just lie and tell my mom I fell at cheerleading so I’d have an excuse to have it looked at. If I could hide the other marks, maybe they wouldn’t ask any questions.
The rest of the day I puttered around the apartment, cleaning up Nando’s mess and happy because I knew it would stay that way. Clean. I finished my homework but shoved the info from Northwestern aside. Today was not the day to deal with that. I found a few things in the fridge to make dinner. At least if I had to tell Mom some bad news, it could be after we both had a good meal.
$$$
A key clicked in the lock, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly squealed in pain. I had forgotten about the ribs for a minute.
“Hi Mom!” I said as she came in. “I made you dinner!”
“Thank you mija,” she said. I tried not to cringe as she hugged me. Her light accent gave her voice a musical quality. “Oh, this smells so good!”
“How was work?” I asked, setting a piece of chicken on her plate.
“It was fine.” She looked at me oddly for a moment. “What’s all this, with your face. Did someone hit you baby?”
“Oh, this?” Dammit. I needed heavier makeup tomorrow I guess. “Naw, I fell during cheerleading yesterday.”
“Oh, cheerleading. I never thought it was that dangerous!”
“Mom, seriously, we fly through the air and sometimes we fall. Or land on each other. Actually,” I paused, taking my chance, “my ribs kinda hurt from falling. Do you think I could go to the clinic tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I guess. But the only time I can take you, you’re supposed to be in school,” she said.
“That’s alright, I can just go in when we’re done at the clinic. You just have to call me out.”
“Okay baby.”
As she finished her last bite, I readied myself for the big show. I figured it would be best take out all the drama.
“Mom, I have some bad news for you.” I played with my napkin.
“What is it?” She looked up, instantly alarmed.
“Well, Nando was here earlier, and he packed his stuff and said he was leaving.”
“Why? Did he say why? Dios, why would he just up and leave without calling me?” she cried, her voice rising in pitch.
“Well, you were at work and he didn’t want to bother you. You know you can’t take calls there.” I kept my voice steady, trying to ease her hysteria.
“Where did he go? Did he say?” She rubbed her face with her hands
“Nope. He wouldn’t tell me. He just said he had to go.”
She grabbed her phone from her purse and dialed his number.
I could hear Jay-Z singing “Big Pimpin’” from somewhere in the living room and went to investigate. I finally found Nando’s Blackberry under a cushion on the couch.
Mom pressed her hands to her quivering lips and started to cry. “Why would he do that, just go? And not even take his phone! Now how will we call him?”
God, I wished she wouldn’t cry. It was just so awkward; I wasn’t sure what to do.
“Look, I’m sure that he’ll call or maybe even come back for the phone.” I patted her shoulder, wishing I could do something.
I set it on the table and figured if he came back for it, he would find it there. I just hoped I wasn’t here if he did.
“Mom, Nando said something about you needing money from him. Is that true?” I asked.
She started to cry harder.
“I don’t know what I’ll do. I just don’t make enough. I don’t know where I’ll get that extra four hundred dollars.”
I could barely make her words out through the sobs.
“Aww, Mom, it’ll be okay.” I wrapped her in a hug. “Look, maybe I could get a job or something and help out.”
“No, mija. You have school and that’s what’s most important.”
“Well it doesn’t do me any good if I have to leave here and switch schools. I have to stay at Cambridge. We’ll figure something out. I refuse to move back to the city.”
But what was I going to do? I guessed I would have to suck it up tomorrow after school and look for some kind of job, after I went to the clinic and got my ribs checked out.
Chapter 6
The clinic went smoothly—they bought the story about me falling at cheerleading. Luckily, the ribs were only bruised and they gave me some giant pills to make the swelling go down. Now I had to come up with a story that would fly at school. I really hated lying to people, it definitely wasn’t my thing, but I wasn’t about to bust out the whole story on them.
“Dude, what happened to you?” James asked.
I slid into my seat in history.
I guess makeup covered the bruises, but the swelling couldn’t be covered on my face. Thank god for scarves, because that seemed to keep him from noticing my neck.
“Aw, I fell yesterday. My brother was moving out and I was helping him carry stuff out to the car. I’m so clumsy, I totally stepped wrong and went flying down the stairs. The box I was carrying landed right on my face.” Lies, lies. But the fake smile will make it seem real. In all honesty, he couldn’t even begin to fathom what my Sunday morning was really like. At least it wasn’t a total lie, I was helping Nando move…
He narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Does it hurt?”
“Um, a little,” I said. I searched the floor for something to look at besides his face.
“So, what are you doing after school today? Got practice?”
“Actually, I think I might go look for a job.” I breathed a little easier, thrilled that he changed the subject.
He wrinkled his nose. “Wow, that sucks. When are you possibly going to have time for a job?”
“I don’t know man, I guess I’ll just have to try and work it around my schedule.” I fidgeted with my notebook.
“I was going to see if you wanted to come up to Village Pizza after school. Some of us are gonna go after basketball practice.” He raised his eyebrows, gazing at me expectantly.
Me? James was asking me to go for pizza? Yes please!
“Who else is going?” It wasn’t really a date if other people were going, right? Besides, it was a Monday. Nobody goes on dates on Mondays. So I’m sure he was just asking me as a friend. Even so, what would Naomi say? I really didn’t think I wanted to be the first girl he went out with. She’d kill me. She’d probably think I was plotting on her this whole time. That I had stayed her friend for years only to wait out their relationship and get my hands on him. Ooooo, hands on him, that would be nice…
Focus, Ari, Focus.
“Steve, Dave, and Declan.” He counted on his fingers. “And maybe Belinda, Gina, and Riley.”
“Thanks for the invite, it sounds cool. Maybe another time.”
There better be another time.
$$$
After school I headed out to the banana-yellow bus and was chauffeured back to good old Slate Park with the few other students that joined me for the daily ride. Most of them were younger, being that all the students my age, even from Slate Park, had a car.
I put my ear buds in, cranked up my iPod and tried to think of a strategy for my job hunt. The most important thing was distance. I had to find something I could walk to. Most days I had no car, so I couldn’t go further than I was willing to go on foot.
When I got home, I stood in the living room and looked out the front window. Gifford Street had a small amount of retail but nothing super appealing. There was a video store with an icky back room where creepers disappeared behind the curtain for WAY too long. I didn’t even like renting videos at that place. I could try the Convenient Mart, but the drunks liked to hang out in front of the store and holler at everyone that went past. Yuck. Not the best place for a teenage girl to work. My last option was a fast food restaurant and a Mexican restaurant. I figured I would go check them out.
I grabbed my coat and headed out the front door. It was a short walk to the corner and then I had to cross the street, being careful of the heavy traffic. The November air was still somewhat pleasant. It hadn’t taken on the deep chill that was just around the corner.
I pushed open the door to the Mexican restaurant. El Faro. God, it looked like Mexico threw up in here. Sombreros hung from the ceiling and large murals of Mexico City were painted on the wall. None of the furniture, all painted a variety of blues, yellows, oranges, and reds, seemed to match. But at least it smelled good.
“Are you guys hiring right now?” I asked the man standing behind the counter.
“No, sorry,” he answered in heavily accented English. “We’ve had to let some people go lately, it’s been slow. But good luck!”
I sighed and thanked him, heading back out into the crisp air. Well I just blew fifty percent of my job options. On to the fast food place. While I was a total fan of fast food in general, I couldn’t really imagine cooking it. There was so much grease. Yuck.
The lovely smell of burgers and fries hit me as I walked in the door. I looked behind the counter and was surprised to see an awful lot of gray-hairs working. What happened to the fast food place being the job of teenagers everywhere? I didn’t see one in there.
“Excuse me, are you hiring right now?” I asked the grandma at the register. There were a few customers chatting in the seating area behind me.
“No dear, I’m sorry. Looking for a job?” she asked sweetly.
“Yeah, but I’m not having a lot of luck.”
“Well, I wish you the best and I hope you find something. It’s tough out there right now.” She pulled a rag out of her pocket and wiped down the counter.
“Thanks.”
Only two places and I had totally struck out. I couldn’t believe there was nothing else nearby. That was the one nice thing about the city, there were a lot more shops, more job options. But no, thanks to suburban sprawl, there wasn’t much in the way of jobs available in Slate Park. Shit.
I trudged home, defeated. What the hell was I going to do to make money? There had to be something.
$$$
The next few days I searched high and low for some form of employment. I even tried Cambridge as a last resort, but all the jobs I found there either conflicted with my millions of clubs or cheerleading or required me to have my own ride, or both. I called families in Cambridge for nanny jobs I found in the classifieds, but again, no car, no luck. I tried spreading my search in Slate Park a little wider, but the closest place was still a mile away and they weren’t hiring. I left my name with a few people, telling them to keep me in mind if something came up. But how soon would that be? And how soon could I really get a car of my own with no money? It was all just very…bleak.
Dejected and thinking of what my life was going to be like when I was forced to move back to the city, I trudged down the steps to the apartment after school. I unlocked the door and walked in. It was clean, something I still had to get used to. I threw my keys on the kitchen table.
“If I wasn’t rappin’ baby I would still be ridin’ Mercedes
Chromin', shinin', sippin' daily
No rest until whitey pays me
Uh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys
Comin' down in candied toys, smokin' weed and talkin' noise
We be big pimpin', spendin' cheese…”
Nando’s phone was talking to me. Jay-Z, I’m listening! Okay, so maybe it wasn’t exactly Jay-Z, but one of his boys. I needed cheese to spend. I grabbed the phone and saw Javier’s name on it.
“Hello?”
“Ariceli? That you? Why you answerin’ Nando’s phone? Put him on for me.” He sounded pissed.
“I’m sorry Javi, but Nando’s gone.”
“What the fuck? What do you mean he’s gone?”
“Gone, split, left town, ran away. I don’t know what else to tell you man—he’s gone. But he forgot his phone.”
“Shit.”
“Why do you need him?” I asked even though I was pretty sure I knew.
“Uh, it’s work related.”
“Work related? Uh huh. I get it. Look, Javi, I know this is gonna sound weird, but do you, uh, have any work for me?”
“Work? For you? Get the fuck outta here! Ariceli, you do realize what kind of work I do, don’t you? A preppy girl like you over at a good school ain’t gonna wanna do this kinda work.” He laughed.
I swallowed hard. My heart was racing. What the hell was I thinking? I needed money. If I was gonna stay at Cambridge and get a shot at Northwestern, I really needed money. What would they all say at school, after I got arrested like Nando?
She was such a nice girl, never saw it coming.
It happens to those Hispanics, you know, they just can’t get away from the gangs and the drugs.
Such a shame.
Such a promising future.
But on the other hand, without this place, I was a guaranteed loser. Back to the South Side. Back to Hell.
“I’m serious, Javi. I have my reasons. Can you come here tomorrow and tell me what I’ve gotta do?”
“All right girl, but I gotta tell you, you surprised the shit outta me. I’ll come by tomorrow and see if you’re still interested. You sleep on it.”
“Okay,” I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.
“Oh, and if anyone calls Nando’s phone tonight just tell them to call again tomorrow and we’ll take care of them. Don’t tell anyone else he’s gone.”
“Okay.”
“See you tomorrow Ariceli.”
“Bye.”
I hit the end button and dropped the phone on the table like it was on fire.
I sat down and stared at the phone. What choice did I have? I couldn’t get a job close enough to walk to. I had no car. My mom already worked two jobs and didn’t have the time to get another one. My hands shook and my stomach churned, tempted to send my lunch back to the surface in a volcanic fury. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. I was just a kid. I didn’t know the first thing about working, let alone doing something illegal.
I grabbed the phone and headed into my room, in case anyone called. Mom wouldn’t be home until late and had to be up early, so she wouldn’t even notice if it rang.
My eye stuck on the Northwestern application lying on the bookcase. I picked it up and sat on the bed. Nando’s phone was in my left had, the application in my right. Northwestern. Illegal. Northwestern. Drugs. Northwestern. Green. I needed the green. Without the green there was no Northwestern. No Northwestern meant no future. No Charles Gibson. In order to get the green I had to sell the green. If Nando could do it, I could do it, and I could probably do it better. He was an idiot. Compared to him, I was a rocket scientist.
I didn’t need to wait until tomorrow to decide. If I wanted to get where I wanted to go, I had to be willing to take a chance. I couldn’t depend on anyone else. But I had to be smart about it. This had to be top secret. No one could know. Mom would be easy, but I would have to lie to my best friend. I would have to lie to lovely James. But would it be that much different than I was doing now? Fake smiles, fake hair, fake nails…so much about us was false, just a front. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
Chapter 7
The next day felt like an eternity. I know that sounds so cliché. But seriously, every time I looked at the clock it was only one minute ahead from the last time I checked. I was antsy and all the teachers were just blathering on about god knows what.
“Ari, are you alright? You’re like, I don’t know, like distracted or something,” Naomi said as we headed to the gym for practice.
“I’m just tired. And a little sore still.” I had sat out of practice the last two days. The ribs were better, but were still a little tender.
“Ugh, so did you hear? Mandi Johansen asked James out.” Naomi made a face and pulled on her gym shoe.
“What?! I mean, no, I hadn’t heard. He didn’t say anything about it today in class.” Huh. Why wouldn’t he have told me about it? And Mandi. Seriously? He could do SO much better. Like me!
“Aw, honey, I’m sorry. How do you feel about it?” I put on the caring friend face.
“Honestly, I thought I would be a lot more pissed. But I wasn’t. I don’t know. I think we were really just ready to be done. Seriously, I feel like a weight’s been lifted off me or something.”
I exhaled after I realized that I’d been holding my breath. Maybe she was finally over him. But now I’d gone and lost my chance to damn Mandi Johansen. Bitch. See, she didn’t have the whole best-friend-who-just-broke-up-with-James to worry about. She owed Naomi no loyalty. But me, nooooo, I had to be the good friend and totally miss the boat. Dammit.
That’s all right, I had my ideas. Maybe it was time to turn it on a bit, see if I could steal him away from Mandi. I certainly owed her nothing. She was stealing my man. She didn’t know it yet, but she would. I bet if I would’ve gone to the pizza place yesterday, I could have totally cock-blocked her. Or I guess it would be vag-blocking.
Practice went a little quicker than I thought. At least it kept me distracted from what I was going to be doing later. After practice I walked out of Cambridge High. Shiny and bright Cambridge High. Doorway to the future Cambridge High.
I climbed on the one late bus that would take me all the way to Slate Park and settled into my seat. I pulled out my iPod, needing some music to help calm me down as my heart started racing. Dr. Dre, Eminem, Jay-Z, Lil’ Wayne, Snoop. That’s who I needed in my life right that second. People that understood what it took to make it. Dirty, biting, clawing your way from the bottom to the top. They weren’t just rappers, they had been there. They knew what it was like to be me.
I trudged down the musty staircase to our door. The apartment was silent—Mom was working as usual. I flipped on a few lights to chase the shadows from the corners and checked Nando’s phone. No calls yet. I went to the fridge to find something to eat, even though my stomach twisted into nervous little pretzels. I settled on a can of pop and figured maybe I would feel like eating later. Maybe.
A loud knock echoed through the room and I dropped the remote onto the coffee table with a clang. I pulled the door open.
“Hey baby girl! How you doin?” Javier swept in and pulled me into a hug. Awkward. He reeked of cologne. I patted him lightly on the back and wrinkled my nose.
He strolled across the living room and dropped onto the couch. I swallowed my thudding heart, which had somehow managed to crawl into my throat.
“Man, it’s a hell of a lot cleaner in here with Nando gone. That dude is such a fucking pig.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Hey, can I get a pop?”
“Sure.”
I grabbed another can from the fridge and handed it to him I perched on the edge of the couch.
“Okay, so Nando’s gone. What happened?” He popped the top and sank into the cushions.
I looked at Javier for a minute, not quite sure if I should trust him, but then again, what did I care? Nando was an asshole.
“Nando got arrested and skipped town because they let him go and he freaked out.”
“Uh huh. Good move on his part actually. Lucky for him he can trust me; I know Nando ain’t no snitch. But the Big Boss, he don’t know Nando so well. No telling what he would do if he heard about him being let go.”
He took a sip of pop and looked at me a little closer.
“What the hell happened to you? I know it wasn’t no fight at your preppy-ass school.”