“Meet me at Damen’s Point,” he said when I answered. “It’s important. I have something to give you.”
I didn’t want anything from him. He’d already given me herpes.
“I’m right in the middle of doing my homework,” I lied, and I’m sure he knew I was lying, because I didn’t do my homework.
“Just meet me there, Taylor,” he said desperately. “Please. Ten minutes.”
When he showed up, Stinky Lewis was with him. The dog kept spinning in circles, full of nervous energy. He rolled over for us, even though we didn’t have any treats. After that, he presented each of his paws.
“I need you to take him,” Brad said, instead of hello.
Susan’s pregnancy was public knowledge now, so there was no need to discuss it. Everyone at school was talking about it, and Susan acted like it was this amazing thing, like it was exactly what she wanted.
When I saw her, she smiled curtly, but she never slept over again. I was there when it was still an accident, and she needed to erase me.
Johnny Moon was coming soon, to do the shoot, and the atmosphere in Hopuonk was exactly as I imagined it had been the first time he came—the time when I was made.
“What do you mean, take him?” I asked Brad.
“I’m going to be a dad,” Brad said. “I won’t have the time.” His plaid shirt was buttoned all the way up, and he wouldn’t really look at me.
We sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the waves break and watching Stinky Lewis.
“I’ve only ever had a fish,” I said. “I can’t take care of a dog.”
“Taylor, just take him with you. I won’t be able to stand seeing him around.”
The news of my move was part of the gossip too. As usual, I didn’t have to tell anyone what was going on in my life. They already knew. Worst of all, Johnny Moon didn’t know I planned on moving to California. Panic welled inside me.
Brad’s jaw was set. It seemed like this had been Susan’s idea. Even if it wasn’t, Brad could probably feel that it was what she wanted.
Stinky Lewis sat at our feet, his ears forward, eager. He wagged his tail twice, then once just halfway, like he was losing confidence.
“Brad, I’m sorry,” I said, “for everything.”
When we stood on the prom stage together—him with his court sash and me with the crown—he wasn’t expecting my explosion. He stood there politely, then backed away. I didn’t blame him. At the time, I was so focused on Susan that I didn’t pay much attention to anyone else, but I realize now that he must have felt exposed somehow too.
Brad picked up a gray stone from the ground and threw it at the brackish river. Even though we were all the way on the dock, it reached the water. It always amazed me how easily boys could throw things, and how far.
“You hurt me,” he said.
“I know.”
“I’m sorry I told you that everyone hates you.”
“It’s true.”
He didn’t argue.
“You’ll be a good dad,” I said. “I know you will be.”
“I think it’s what I’m supposed to do,” he said. He looked out at the water instead of at me when he said, “Right after Susan told me she was pregnant, Heather gave me a blow job.”
That stung, for several reasons. I thought of Susan stretched out in my bed, telling me the story of sleeping with Brad and getting pregnant, going through tissue after tissue. She seemed so small, and she thought of Heather as a friend. Knowing about Heather and Brad would have undone her. And Heather said she liked me, but she wouldn’t kiss me. I understood, and I respected her more for not doing it, but Brad got to kiss all the pretty girls.
He picked up another stone and ran it through his fingers. He didn’t throw this one.
“I’m a bad person, aren’t I?” he said.
I shook my head.
“Lots of people would run,” I said. “I mean, from the whole baby thing. One blow job isn’t the end of the world. Just don’t tell Susan.”
“I thought about running,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to. I want to do this.” He sounded like he was trying very hard to convince himself.
Stinky Lewis barked and clawed at my sneakers.
“He likes you,” Brad said. “That’s my cue.”
There were tears in his eyes that he clearly didn’t want me to see, and I didn’t want to see them either. I looked instead at the river, a hungry, grabbing thing.
When he got up to leave—he left his blanket—Stinky Lewis whined. I held him back on his leash. Stinky Lewis raised his ears again, wagged his tail, and then sat down.
Brad turned around, his hand on the door of his Datsun.
“Taylor,” he said, “good luck in California.”
“Thanks.”
How would I convince Johnny Moon to love me? I wondered if he liked dogs. I wondered if he liked goldfish. I wondered if he liked pirates.
Stinky Lewis looked at me, confused, then looked at Brad’s car. He barked as the car pulled away.
I think Stinky Lewis was nervous, because he started rolling over for me, right there on the dirt. It was like he had to prove that he was worth keeping.
“It’s okay,” I said to him, curling my fingers into his wiry fur. “Stop rolling over. You don’t have to roll over. I want you.”
The Hopuonk Beachcombers
A few days later, after my cold had passed, I found myself walking out of school, not to the parking lot, but to the field, where one of the last cheerleading practices of the season was being held.
There was Heather, the team’s best flyer, her horsey knee bent ninety degrees on top of a pyramid. When she cheered, her face took on a brightness that I never saw at any other time.
I watched for a while. The Hopuonk Beachcombers actually had a fantastic cheerleading squad. They went to nationals, which were held at Disney World every year, and though a couple of teams from Kentucky always beat them, they usually placed pretty high.
I watched Heather as the two bases basket-tossed her high into the air, and I wondered if cheerleading, for her, was like her father’s flying lessons were to him. Then I watched her on the ground, effortlessly performing a full twist after two perfect back handsprings.
No one ever watched cheerleading practice, and I knew that Heather’s dream of winning at nationals and bringing home a ring would never be realized. But I also knew that this wasn’t her only shot at being really good at something.