Late to the Party - Kelly Quindlen Page 0,28
what it’s worth, I think you’re a pretty cool person, and I think you can grow into whomever you want to be. Maybe you’ll do it with Maritza and JaKory on the sidelines, or maybe they’ll be right there on the field with you, but either way, you’ll figure it out. I know they have to be good people, because they’re friends with you.”
I breathed deep into my stomach. “Thanks, Ricky.”
He smiled a soft, knowing smile. “Now, about the girl thing…”
I laughed. “Yeah?”
“Isn’t there anyone you can think of that you might have a chance with?”
“No.”
“Even with all the pretty girls at school? You’ve really never met anyone who caught your attention?”
Something stirred in my mind. I thought of the girl I’d spoken to at Ricky’s party, the girl who had recognized me from school, but I didn’t know who she was or whether she even liked girls.
“What?” Ricky said.
“Nothing.”
“What?” he pressed.
“Well … there was a girl at your party. A cute girl. But I don’t know her name.”
“Did you talk to her?”
“For a second.”
“And?”
I told him all about my picture faux pas, and how the girl had been so nice about it. “And she recognized me,” I said, trying not to sound too pleased about it. “She knew I went to Buchanan.”
“But you didn’t get her name?”
“We got interrupted by her friends. They came over and started tugging her away to watch those guys shotgun.”
“What’d they look like?”
I described the girl and her friends. Ricky’s eyes grew bright.
“Do you know her?” I asked, half hopeful, half terrified.
He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I might.”
“Ricky—please don’t tell her—”
“Relax, Codi,” he laughed, holding up his hand. His usual warm energy was back, like he’d drunk some sunshine along with his coffee. “I’ll take care of you.”
* * *
I pestered Ricky with questions on the drive back to our neighborhood, but he refused to tell me anything else. “You’ll see,” he said, over and over. “I’m gonna make it worth your while.”
It wasn’t until we turned onto my street that he switched the conversation to something else.
“You know how you said it was obvious with JaKory?” he asked, suddenly low-key again.
“What?”
“When you were talking about Maritza liking girls, you said it shocked you.”
“Yeah…”
“But JaKory wasn’t shocking to you.”
I knew where he was going with this, and I tried to sound nonchalant with my answer. “No, Maritza and I thought he was gay for a while.”
Ricky glanced at me. “Why?”
I didn’t know how to phrase it without making him read into it. “Well … the way you can just tell with some guys.”
Ricky was silent for a long moment. Then he asked, “I’m not one of those guys, right?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer. The truth was he wasn’t one of those guys, at least not as far as I could tell, but I didn’t want him dwelling on that as if it mattered.
“No…” I said uncertainly. “I don’t think so. But it’s not a bad thing or a good thing, it’s just … you know…”
His expression was inscrutable. He didn’t take his eyes off my driveway, but he nodded very slightly. “Cool,” he said, though he sounded anything but. “Catch you later, Codi.”
He gave me a stiff smile, and I clambered out of his truck.
7
JaKory Green: What’s the plan tonight, comrades? I’m thinking Indian take-out and another ~special~ movie
Maritza Vargas: You make it sound like we’re watching porn. But I’m down. There’s that one I wanna watch with the two girls and the spotted unicorn
JaKory Green: Sounds kinky but okay
It was Saturday night, and I was working the closing shift at Totes-n-Goats with nothing to occupy me but my phone.
Until Ricky showed up out of nowhere.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, looking up at the sound of the bell tinkling.
He wandered curiously into the store. “I wanted to buy a goat.”
“Funny.”
He was dressed like he was on his way out somewhere. He stepped up to the register, his eyes roaming over the line of handbags behind me, and I recognized the crisp cologne he’d worn the night of his party. Was he on his way to another party? And if so, would he invite me to tag along?
“Got a big night planned?” I asked, trying not to sound too eager.
Before he could answer, Tammy swept in from the stockroom, breathless. It had been a slow night, and her eyes popped at the sight of a potential customer. “Hi, can we help you find something? How’d you like to see