After I hand Meredith the cup, I wave the plastic pirate hook taped to my left arm. “Time to walk the plank, matey.”
And hard as it is for me to believe, she catches the hint. She walks past Leonard, links her little finger to the hook, and leads me out to the porch.
“You okay?” she asks, sharp glances into the corners as if more than a few couples might be snuggled down out of sight, though the room feels and looks empty.
“I spilled the goddamn drink like a five-year-old.”
“Why did you abandon me to the Steroid King?”
“He’s everywhere.”
“Everywhere he wants to be,” she says.
“Nowhere I want to be.”
“You don’t want to dance with me?” She sounds really hurt and it gripes me.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all. Of course I want to dance with you. I loved dancing with you that one time we did it. Dance, I mean. I would dance with you forever.”
I realize I’m being an idiot, but when she looks a little teary-eyed, I realize it’s not a bad kind of idiot. As I raise my arm to offer her a dance, the hook smashes into the screen door leading out to the pool. Good thing it’s only plastic or Senator Yowell would be back with a roll of screening and the directions to his staple gun.
“Fuck,” I say, then, “Jeez. What a jerk. Sorry.”
Meredith giggles. “You don’t have to apologize. I’ve heard the word before. Anyway, pirates have issues other people don’t have.”
“I warned you I was different.”
With one black arm, she’s stroking my hook and tugging the sleeve of my dad’s peacoat, which I’m wearing to hide the duct tape. It still surprises me that the coat is not that big on me. It’s way too weird that I could still be growing while the sicko germs are attacking my blood.
“How do you keep that thing on?” She tugs the sleeve up to her face.
“No fair peeking. I didn’t ask you what’s under the doppelgänger sheet.”
When she steps down onto the patio that surrounds the swimming pool, I’m right behind her. Mack and Leonard and I have spent hours in this pool. It has wide steps that match the curve of the concrete edge and the designer tiles. My mother didn’t even want to hear what it looked like; she thinks it’s environmentally damaging to seal up the ground and wreck the habitat for the newts or earthworms or whatever lives in people’s yards.
“How come no one’s swimming?” Meredith asks.
“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s almost November. A little chilly for laps.”
“But Leonard said they swam last week. He asked if Juliann and I wanted to come over and try the pool.”
I do my best pirate growl. “I bet he did.”
“We could try it now. You and me.” She leans down and sticks a hand in the water, raises it dripping, and beams up at me.
I can see the gears turning in her gorgeous head. This is the bridge climber I know.
She whispers, closer to my ear than is safe with other people around, “We’d have it all to ourselves.”
“Would I get to see what’s under a doppelgänger’s outer layer?”
With that, she yanks the sheet over her head, steps out of her black flats, and drops her jeans. When she tugs the black jersey thingy over her head, I catch a glimpse of white before she slides into the water and turns into the shadow of a mermaid. The flash of white is gone almost before I register what it is.
“Meredith.”
“Shhh.” She surfaces. “Hurry up and rescue me, Captain Hook. There might be alligators in here.”
Mack doesn’t want to leave when we do. Juliann and four guys from the lacrosse team are playing with a Ouija board. The guys are chugging from beer bottles they’re hiding under the coffee table. Ouija’s something I haven’t done since I was ten. And am not about to repeat. I feel bad for Mack. He’s shorter than every one of those guys, but smarter than all of them put together. He ought to be singing “Ring of Fire” and carrying Juliann off into the night. But he’s chugging with the best of them. And surprising me because he’s doing such a good job convincing them that he’s a pro at it.
Senator Yowell is noticeably absent, which gives Leonard room to make a big deal about what a great party it is. Don’t you hate that kind of self-promotion? He’s such a phony. It may be the best party ever, but the host can’t get away with saying it. Even I know that and we’ve never had a party at our house. And certainly not on the houseboat. Can you see the headlines? Kids Drown at Teen Party on Houseboat.
The fireplace hearth is decorated with beer bottles and another bunch crowds one end of the mantel. Maybe the lacrosse players brought the beer. I have a life-size picture of duly elected Senator Yowell stocking the larder with Bud before the party. The Yowells’ life is a fishbowl compared with Holden’s or mine, even taking into account The Disease and the neglect conviction.
The court hearing has to be the big news in town because most of the adults we know are turning down side streets when they see us coming. If my parents hadn’t appealed it and won the stay hearing, I’d be in chemo right now and not holding Meredith’s hand, missing what’s already turned into the best night of my life. No holds barred.
The music’s softer and only two couples are dancing. Other couples on the couch in the den and the living room are deep into it. In the corner two guys I don’t recognize are huddled over an end table, which gives me a bad feeling that the party is getting out of control. I feel like I should shield Meredith’s eyes, but then the hook business in the kitchen comes back to me and I remember she’s from the big city of Charlottesville, so she’s probably way more experienced than I am. You’d think that would take some of the pressure off. But it’s amazing how just the thought of some other guy touching her tears me up. I can hardly breathe.
Behind me, she stays close, the doppelgänger sheet wrapped around her shoulders. I smell her perfume and the chlorine in her hair. Every two or three steps, someone jostles us and a drip from her hair falls on my neck. Cold but wonderful because it touched her skin and then mine. No one notices the damp patches spreading on the doppelgänger sheet.
When I walk, the condoms crinkle in my jean pocket. Like a tornado whistle it seems, but no one’s head even turns, so it’s just me, being nervous.
While I was putting the costume together—at the last minute of course, though Nick was very helpful—I transferred the condoms from Joe’s envelope to my pocket when Nick wasn’t looking. With his competitiveness I have to be careful or he’ll decide he has to try whatever it is he sees me doing, to keep up. Typical thirteen-year-old.
On the way to the party I worried about Meredith seeing the condoms. With two of them, she might think I’m overly confident. Maybe she’d stop liking me. To be brutally honest, I’m also worried about using them. There are no directions and I’ve never used the suckers before. One of them might rip. How am I supposed to know?
We move together to stand behind Mack where he sits outside the Ouija board group with Juliann’s butt wedged in his lap. Things aren’t that bad. His back is to the druggies in the corner. Maybe he’s doing okay after all. He looks happy enough. When Meredith’s hair drips on his arm, he touches the spot, looks at the ceiling, and up at me.
“You two took a shower?”
“Swimming,” I whisper. “We’re outta here.”
“You want the keys to the truck?”
“No driver’s license, remember? I’m younger than you.”