If I Tell - By Janet Gurtler Page 0,13

Nathan.” His voice was his most distinctive quality, rich and powerful, like a radio disc jockey’s.

Nathan and Lacey were two misfits who’d been friends in high school. For once I was glad he constantly orbited around Lacey and always flirted with me. Usually it made me uncomfortable, but right then he was a welcome distraction.

I pulled his hands off my eyes, turned to him, and smiled. He grinned down at me, looking a little surprised by the friendly welcome, but he gave me his trademark two-fingered “hang loose” sign. Bracelets dangled from his dark wrists, and gold chains twirled in layers around his neck. He had giant, fake diamond earrings in both ears. Bargain-basement bling. Nathan’s impression of big-city black. He’d visited New York a while back and returned to Tadita using gangsta slang.

Most people around here just ignored him or stared at him like he was from another planet. Eventually he toned it down. Once when he’d been drunk, he’d told me that his cousin in New York accused him of acting white. I guess that’s what brought on the change. “I ain’t white,” he’d told me as if it was a bad thing. How was that supposed to make me feel? Had he looked at my mom lately?

“How’d you know it was me?” Nathan turned his chair backward and straddled it.

“Besides the fact that you reek like a forest fire from all your chain-smoking?” Lacey threw down her magazine. She made a face at him, but it was an old argument.

The tiny old house that the two of them rented was messy and smelled like smoke, but despite her complaining, neither of them seemed to care. They’d moved in after high school, both needing to get away from home for different reasons: Lacey because stepfather number two developed an intense interest in her well-being, and Nathan because his stepfather used him as a punching bag.

Nathan discovered that his thrill for heights could make him serious money in the construction business and had found a house he could afford to live in. Lacey followed, and he let her pay a third of the rent instead of half.

“Your hands feel like sandpaper,” I said, thankful for the interruption. “And how could I mistake that voice? Anyhow, I’m smarter than I look.”

“You look smart enough to run away with me.” He grinned. “Nothing stopping you.”

“Except about four years.” Lacey leaned across the table to smack his head. “She’s jailbait. Leave her alone.”

“Jaz is wise beyond her years,” Nathan said, running a hand across his shaved head.

“Too wise to fall for your crap,” Lacey said.

I ignored the insults flying back and forth and sneaked a peek behind the coffee counter. In the Pit, Jackson was whipping up a special coffee for a regular customer. He smiled a half grin and tugged at his earring. He truly rocked the apron with a complete lack of effort. I lifted my fingers to wave at him and then blushed harder.

He wasn’t even looking at me. He was beaming at a skinny blond girl approaching the counter. I tucked my hand in my lap and dropped my glance to the table. What did I expect? He’d wave and then leap across the counter and ask me out?

So what if he was nice to me? So what if my insides fluttered when he flirted with me? Which he did on a regular basis. Was I actually crushing on him? As far as I could tell Jackson flirted with every girl who came within ten feet of him. I thought about Grandpa. He would definitely not have approved of a drug dealer. But then I remembered my vow not to listen to the rumors about Jackson and frowned.

“I want to go to a party,” I announced, interrupting Lacey and Nathan, who thankfully had been too busy arguing to see my lame wave at a boy not even looking at me. “Who will buy me some beer?”

They both stopped talking and stared at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted fairy wings.

“What? It’s not like I’ve never been to a party before,” I said. The anger in the pit of my stomach wouldn’t go away. I intended to drown it.

“No,” Lacey said. “But you’ve never demanded to go to one in that voice before. You sound totally grouchy.”

“And you’re not usually the beer type, kid,” Nathan added.

“More like Dr Pepper,” Lacey said.

“Well, things change,” I said. “I’m bored. Bored with coffee. Bored with school. Bored with everything.”

I didn’t add that