This choice: Continue helping these girls • Go Back...Chapter #8A Charity Drive to Drive You Mad by: Seuzz   Money? The word certainly catches your ear. "How much?" you ask Naomi.
She grimaces and gives her friend Kennedy a sidelong glance. Kennedy shoots her friend a similarly veiled look before stammering, "We'll talk about it later. Right now we need to go start picking up the other stuff."
You feel yourself make a face, but at least you've established that you'll get some compensation. "So where's the first place we're going?" you ask.
"I'll text you the addresses," Naomi says as she swings around toward her car. "You can plug it into your GPS or whatever, or follow us."
You glance at Yumi, but she only gives you a look like, You got yourself into it, Will, you can get yourself out. "I'll talk to you later," she says as she turns back toward her own car. "Let's take a raincheck or something about that Starbucks run."
* * * * *
You spend almost three hours following Naomi around town, even though you don't have that many places to go. But she drives her bronze-colored Nissan Altima like it's a sick walrus that has to be nurtured gently down the road, hitting almost every light red (and several she should have hit green but gets red anyway) and wallowing around corners like a bus that's running on fumes. Then, when you do get to a house, she and Kennedy have to spend fifteen or twenty minutes gossiping cheerfully with their friends or the parents of their friends while you get to carry out the boxes, and they ignore you when you're done and are glowering nearby and silently urging them to get a move on. By six o'clock, when you text your mom to say you will be late for dinner because you're helping out with a charity drive, you are almost ready to abandon them and take the loot of five houses back to your place.
Eventually, though, Naomi texts you Last stop to drop stuff off!, and leads you back toward Acheson at a waddling pace.
She leads you to a nice, multi-level house not far from the river, its lawn shaded by some old trees. Naomi and Kennedy sit in the car even as you bound out. But you don't feel like talking to them, so you lean against your truck to see what will happen next.
What happens is that the garage door goes up and a tall, good-looking kid with a neatly combed thatch of brown hair comes sauntering out. He's dressed much as you—dark t-shirt under a long-sleeve button-up shirt, and slacks—but his stuff looks ironed. He also has a much more confident gait, and the phrase "AP twat" comes to your mind. He jerks his chin at you but steers toward the girls' car as they finally start getting out. "So what's this 'big surprise' you got?"
"It's back here," Kennedy says as she leads him to your truck. She hardly glances at you, and the guy only gives you a quick look of puzzlement. "We stopped by Angelique's and Rhea's and—" She proudly rattles off a whole list of names as she lowers the gate of your truck and gestures at the boxes. The guy whistles at them.
"So what do you think of that, Kian?" Naomi smugly challenges him. "Do we win the bet?"
"Pretty good haul," Kian says. (And what kind of name is that? you wonder.) "Wanna help me carry it in?"
"Sure." Naomi crooks a finger at you. And it doesn't escape your notice that neither she nor Kennedy lift a box, but instead precede you and Kian as you and he each pull out a box of clothes.
Your destination is a basement, reached via a trapdoor and a wide and shallow set of stairs in the garage floor. Calling it a "basement," though, would give it the wrong impression. Though it is underground, it's been converted into an airy rec room, very wide and long, with a pair of coaches in the corner facing a small flat-screen TV, and a dorm refrigerator. But most of the space is taken up with cabinets and work tables. The latter groan beneath cardboard boxes in various states of unpacking. A mass of shirts and jeans and trousers have already been grouped and folded, and a countertop along the wall is stacked deep with canned goods and packaged foods.
There's a half dozen school kids or more at work down there, sorting items and bundling them up. Two you recognize from your film class, but neither they nor hardly anyone else looks at you as you set your box down and turn back toward the stairs. Naomi and Kennedy, you notice, immediately fall into a bright, gossipy conversation with a slim girl with long, kinky, brunette hair. But Kian gets two guys to help carry the rest of the things down. On your way out, he finally gets around to nudging you and asking you your name. "Will Prescott," you tell him.
"Kian Benefield," he says. "This is Zion and and Isaiah." They each say "Hey" at you.
There's not much talk as you lug the rest of the boxes down. No one has anything to say to you, and amongst themselves there's just a little shop talk about the drive. But when you're done, Zion—a dark-skinned kid with fluffy brown hair and features that are somewhere between Arab and African—nods at you. "So, we're gonna go pick up something, bring it back to eat," he says. "You in?"
"Will has to get home for supper," Naomi calls. How she managed to hear what he said, as she's halfway across the room and engrossed in talk with her friends, you don't understand.
So, spitefully, you reply, "If someone pays for it, sure. I'm owed money anyway." Zion's eyebrow goes up.
"We said we'd pay him," Naomi explains. She sighs, as though deeply disappointed and not a little aggravated, but goes over to a table to pick up her purse. "How much did we say?" she asks Kennedy.
"Um—"
"Would five be enough?" Naomi asks you.
You can hardly believe your ears. "Five?"
"It's for charity," she reminds you with a roll of her eyes.
"Five won't even cover the gas I burned!"
Kennedy says, "Don't exaggerate!" and goes back to talking to the girl with the kinky brunette hair.
"Oh, fuck this," you grumble, and wheel for the stairs. But you have to piss, so— "You got a bathroom I can use?" you ask Kian,
"Uh, sure." He's been looking confused and a little embarrassed, and there's a hunch in his shoulder as he gestures you to follow him. He leads you up the stairs into the garage, then into the house. Just inside is a laundry room, and just off the laundry room is a small bathroom. You shut the door and relieve yourself, then splash a little cold water on your face.
When you wrench the door open, you're surprised by a girl standing on the other side. She's playing with her phone, but she looks up at you from under her brows with a sly smile as you boggle at her. "Hey," she says, in a low, throaty voice.
"Hey," you reply. Then, "Sorry for making you wait, I'll get out of your way."
"It's okay. Just don't go away mad."
"What?"
You hadn't paid much attention to her down in the basement, where she was keeping to herself as she folded clothes. She has straight, dark-blonde hair with just a the faintest shade of rust in it, and a light blush of strawberry-pink under her clear white skin. Her eyes are small, and they almost disappear when she smiles, as she is doing now. She's got wide hips, and though she isn't fat, she does look soft and a little plump all over.
"They really pissed you off down there. Kennedy and Naomi, I mean," she says.
"Well—"
"Go ahead and say it. They're not friends of mine."
"They just offered to pay me for my time is all, and then—"
"You're a senior, aren't you?"
"Uh ... Yes."
"Thought so. How do you know Naomi and Kennedy?"
"I don't. I don't know anyone here!"
"Roberta," she says, and puts out her hand.
"Huh? Oh. Uh." You take her hand. "Will. I'm sorry, I'm—"
"Don't be. If you want some money, get it from Kian or Zion. They'll understand."
"I don't want money—"
"I thought you did."
"Well, not from them."
"They're in charge of things. Kian and Zion, I mean. The charity drive. Though you wouldn't know it from the way Naomi and Kennedy are carrying on. They're only helping 'cos they're friends with Christine."
"Christine?"
"Zion's girlfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?"
You feel your eyes widen. "Um—"
"Sorry, that sounded pretty bold of me. I just meant, do you know what it's like to have a girlfriend who has pushy girlfriends, and they all push you around?"
"No."
"Because Zion does. I thought you might sympathize."
"Oh. Well—"
"I do have to pee," she says. "Mostly I wanted to tell you 'sorry' for Naomi and Kennedy, and not to think that we're all bitches here. But I do also have to pee."
You scramble out of her way, and with a smile she slips past you into the bathroom and shuts the door.
* * * * *
Zion is waiting in the garage for you. He tries giving you a twenty, and when you insistently turn him down he says he and Kian will cover for you if you want to go with the rest of them to get sushi, which is the plan that's evolved. You're about to turn him down again when he mentions that there's not enough rides for everyone, and that if you went you could maybe give someone a ride in your truck?
That sounds even more insulting, but you pause. You still have that mask with you that you've been trying to get onto someone all day. One person, in your truck, would finally give you a chance at that.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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