Wake
Page 22“Would you stop that, please?”
“Stop what?”
“That whole syrupy sweet-talk thing. It’s really grating on me.”
Carrie blinks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Anyway, give me some friggin’ veggies to chop.”
They work up a meal, making guacamole from scratch and everything. Janie takes the TV dinner, wraps it in tinfoil, and puts it in the refrigerator. Her mother will probably eat it. Cold. For breakfast or something.
By the time the fajitas are ready, Janie is buzzing from her second drink and Carrie is doing shots from the bottle.
They move into the living room and flip on music videos.
“So, are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on, or not,” Janie says. Carrie sighs and gives her a sorrowful look. “Oh, Janie. Are you still thumpin’ for Cabel or what?”
Janie takes a swallow of her drink, and lies. “I…I’m getting over him. I’m not speaking to him.”
“I saw him here, on your step this morning. Were you working?”
“Yeah. I guess he was here all day. Ma calls him ‘the hippie.’” She laughs. Carrie takes another shot. “Whooo!” she says when it goes down. “Sheesh. Um…oh, yeah. Cabel. Well, he’s at Melinda’s tonight. With Shay,” she adds.
“Well, duh, he wouldn’t be with Melinda.”
Carrie gives her a curious look. “Why not Melinda?”
Janie’s feeling a bit reckless from the effects of the alcohol. “Carrie! Melinda’s a lesbian. Didn’t you know?”
“She’s totally in love with you.”
“She is not.”
“Is.”
“How do you know?”
Janie hesitates.
She knows she shouldn’t say it.
But she does. “She dreams about you. I’ve seen her dreams.”
Carrie looks at her, confused.
Janie sits, stone-faced.
And then Carrie bursts out laughing. “Holy shit, Janes. You got your funny back.”
Janie echoes Carrie’s laugh. “Gotcha,” she says shakily.
Carrie takes a tentative bite of her fajita. “Hey, it’s good, kiddo.”
Janie rolls her eyes. Now Stu has Carrie calling her that. “Anyway,” prompts Janie.
“Cabel?”
“Ohhhh. Right. Well, since you dumped him, he’s been going whole hog on the rich girls. He’s got Shay wrapped around his little finger.”
“Even though he supposedly got busted at her party?”
Carrie giggles. “Who do you think he’s working with? Her father! They have a little ‘arrangement.’ Shay told me. How hilarious is that. Talk about a family business. And we’re not talking just pot.”
Janie shovels food in her mouth.
Carrie continues. “Shay told Melinda she slept with him.” She slaps her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God. I did not just say that.”
Janie is numb. And strangely begging for more. She wants to hate him. “Naw, it’s cool,” she says smoothly. “I’m so over that guy. He’s a big fake. Right?” She eggs Carrie on.
“He IS a big fake,” shrieks Carrie, nearly upsetting the vodka bottle. She fills Janie’s glass. “No wonder he has all those new clothes, and finally got a cell phone. Sheesh. He’s making some bucks. I think it’s crack. But that’s just a guess.”
Janie can’t believe it.
He said he doesn’t drink. Doesn’t do drugs.
She thought he couldn’t stand Shay Wilder.
What a liar.
“All the dealers lie, I suppose,” Janie says.
“Was he really a pothead then?”
“I bought from him,” Carrie whispers.
“You did?”
Carrie nods again. “A lot.”
Janie stands abruptly and takes the dishes to the sink. She begins washing them as the flurry of information sloshes around in her brain. He had sex with Shay? Janie’s whole body stings.
When Janie comes back to the living room, Carrie’s eyes are glazed. She stares at the TV. Janie sits next to her. “So if Cabel is hot for Shay, why did he sit on my step all day, and why does he keep trying to talk to me?”
Carrie looks at Janie. “Maybe he doesn’t want to lose you as a future customer. Or a good lay. Face it, baby, you’re looking hot these days.”
Janie feels her stomach churning.
She excuses herself to the bathroom.
When she returns, Carrie’s lying on the couch, passed out. Janie turns off the TV. She cleans up the mess and gets a drink of water. October 23, 2005 1:34 a.m.
She leaves Carrie on the couch, sprints through the yards to hide in the stand of trees near Cabel’s house. There’s a light on inside, so she waits. After a while, a car pulls into his driveway. It sits there for five minutes, maybe more. Finally, Cabel gets out and goes inside. When she sees all the lights go out, she deposits herself in the bushes under his window, stepping carefully around the crunchy leaves that insist on falling constantly the past few days.
Luck is on her side when he cracks the window open an inch. She hears him now, and her heart breaks as he sighs and rustles around in the dark. She can hear his bed creak when he lies down, and she can hear him punch his pillow, getting settled for sleep.