Chapter 15 Bird #2
Jessa picks up her Doc Martens and stands up, one foot in only a sock and the other in an unlaced skate.
Dade doesn’t notice anything until Jessa swats his shoulder and his head snaps up.
Jessa hitches her chin in Kayla’s direction and hobbles over to the next bench, where I join her.
We both overhear when Kayla says to Dade, “So, what the hell was that about?”
“What?” he mumbles.
“Who was that girl?”
“Who?”
“Oh, Dade,” Jessa whispers, shaking her head while lacing up her second skate.
Jessa has trouble standing up from the bench, and I shoot my arm out to catch her before she tips over completely.
“Careful,” I tell her as I slowly let go.
We stand there for a few seconds, waiting, but Kayla and Dade are deep in muffled conversation, heads close together, words no longer audible.
I place myself in Kayla’s line of sight and wave my arms, trying to get her attention—she’s looking down at her lap while Dade talks, placing his hand on her arm.
She finally looks up. I point and tilt my hands to the ceiling and mouth, Do you need me? Are you okay?
She shakes her head and waves me away.
Are you sure?
Dade looks over his shoulder, his eyes set on me first, then Jessa. He’s looking at her when he snaps, “We’re good here. You don’t have to just stand there waiting for us.”
I have a feeling he would’ve really liked to have barked at me like that, but he aimed it at Jessa instead. I want to yell at him, Don’t talk to her like that!
But what I say out loud is, “Kayla, you want me to wait?”
“It’s fine,” she answers, even though I know it’s not. “I’m fine. Just go, we’ll be out there in a minute.”
I head out to the rink and am already powering ahead, away from Dade and his stupid voice.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” I shout over the music.
And when I turn to look, Jessa isn’t with me.
I make a quick half turn to skate backward while I try to spot where I lost her.
I search the faces of the people coming up behind me, but she’s not there.
She’s way behind, and she’s standing out, not just because of her bluish hair and her Boy Scouts of America button-down shirt.
Her movements are jerky and halting, and she’s not gaining much momentum as she pushes her feet.
I spin back around and go faster; easier to just go all the way around to get to back to her.
I slow down as I approach from behind. Her arm flails out to the side and one foot kicks up involuntarily. She almost goes down. I get beside her just in time to grab her arm and steady her.
“Fuck!” she yells, but she’s laughing. “Remind me again why we’re here.”
“Because, as we just saw… the not-so-happy couple is already fighting.”
“Okay, well, at least it’s worth it.” She slips and catches herself quickly, shouting, “Shit!”
If I skate any slower, I’ll have come to a complete stop. “Uh, so you weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t good at this, huh?”
She lets go of my arm and shakes her head. “I said I sucked balls, and no, I wasn’t kidding.”
“Okay, you suck! There, happy?”
“You won’t say it?”
“Say what?”
She side-eyes me for a moment. “You can’t say ‘suck balls,’ can you?”
“I could.” But I wouldn’t. I don’t know why I’m even trying to defend myself in this ridiculous hypothetical. “If I wanted to, I could,” I argue. “But I don’t.”
She laughs and pitches forward, trips over her own skate. I hold my hand out to her but she recovers on her own. “Oh my god, you make it too easy to tease you, Bird.”
When we finally get all the way around the rink to where we left Kayla and Dade, they’re still locked into angry, serious, sad faces. “Be my eyes,” she says. “If I turn my head to look at them, I’ll fall.”
“Still upset,” I tell her. She holds her fist out, but when I bump my knuckles into hers, she tips backward, and this time she does grab my arm.
“Shit! Gah! Fucker,” she mutters before letting go. “I think I need to go hold on to the wall!”
“No, you don’t. I think you’re trying too hard to take big steps. Just try to loosen up a—”
Her scoff interrupts me. “I can’t believe I’m getting ‘loosen up’ advice from the girl who can’t say ‘suck balls.’ ”
“Well, you are. And listen, ’cause I know what I’m talking about. If you bend your knees a little, it’ll help with your balance.”
She tries, but she still looks rigid and unnatural. “Everyone’s flying past me.”
“So?”
“Just leave me here.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“Ugh! I can’t even enjoy the music—this is my favorite Lenny Kravitz song!”
And I can’t help it; I laugh, as Lenny Kravitz commands, “You got to breathe and have some fun….”
“You’re laughing at me?!” she shrieks, eyes wide. “I didn’t think you had it in you!”
“No, I’m not laughing at your skating. I’m laughing ’cause of the lyrics… ‘breathe and have some fun’… that’s what I’m trying to tell you. Just breathe, okay?”
“Okay, fine.” I watch her inhale through her nose.
I try to listen to the song, try to have some fun myself.
I can dance a little. At least bob my head to the rhythm, even if I don’t know all the words.
I look over at Jessa and now she’s bobbing her head too, suddenly singing along loudly, practically screaming.
She looks over at me, extending her hand like it’s an invisible mic and I’m supposed to be taking over the lyrics. “And I got to, got to kno-oow…”
But the note turns into a scream as she trips forward. We both laugh and she rights herself faster than the last time. But our laughing is cut short when we pass them again, only now Dade is kneeling on the floor helping Kayla put her skates on, and she leans her face down to kiss him.
“Come on!” Jessa shouts. “How?” She tosses her arm in their direction and loses her balance again. This time, she almost pulls me down with her.
“I don’t know, Jessa. I really don’t understand them, but look… here…” I turn backward so that we’re face-to-face. “Here,” I tell her, holding my hands out. “Just let me help you for a minute, all right? You got all tense and rigid again.”
“Yeah, they have that effect on me, I guess.” She runs her hand through her hair and looks to the side and toward the mirror ball and at her feet, but will not look at me for some reason.
“Here,” I repeat, and hold my hands farther away from me.
She hesitates, like she’s actually scared—I might be easy to tease, but she’s not as tough as she wants everyone to think she is.
“I won’t let you fall. Promise.”
“Okay,” she says, so quietly I can barely hear her over Lenny. Then slowly, she finally reaches out and takes my hands. They’re soft and warm. And I’m suddenly wondering what my hands feel like to her.
“Just ignore Dade-La. Bend your knees a little, like before. Don’t try to go too fast.”
She’s nodding and letting me set the pace. I’m doing my little gentle backward snowplows, just like I did a few years ago when I was teaching Bailey to skate. I look over my shoulder every few seconds to make sure I’m not going to run us into anyone.
When I look back at her, she lowers her eyes. “No, don’t. Don’t look down,” I tell her.
She opens her mouth to say something, but just at that moment Dade swoops in on his Rollerblades, right behind her, and knocks her off-balance. “Looking great, Jessa,” he shouts, laughing as he skates around us in a circle.
She lets go of one of my hands to give him the finger. “Very funny, asshole!”
He laughs harder before he goes back and takes Kayla’s hand. As they pass us, Kayla waves happily, as if there was never anything wrong at all.
The music fades into a Third Eye Blind song Jessa included on the CD she made me.
“Thanks again for that mixtape,” I tell her. “CD, I mean. This song… it was one of my favorites.”
She bites her lip again like she did earlier, like she’s trying to keep herself from smiling. No, not so tough. More like cute.
I can see Dade and Kayla, hands locked, coming up behind us again. I try to give Dade the most serious don’t mess with us look I can summon. So when they pass us, he just throws up a peace sign.
I’m quiet as the ending of “Motorcycle Drive By” merges into unmistakable opening power chords, with Courtney Love belting out, “Oh, make me over…” Literally giving me chills that I think must spread to Jessa, because her face lights up.
“Yeah?” she’s asking me, as somehow we both start skating a little faster, to the beat. “You’re into Hole, really?”
“Don’t look so shocked! Why can’t I like Hole?”
“No, you can,” she shouts. “You should!”
I lean into her, pull her arms closer for a second, and shout close to her ear, “News flash: I’m really not as boring as you seem to think I am.”
As I back up, Jessa’s looking so serious, seriously deep into my eyes. She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but suddenly Kayla’s next to us, grabbing onto my shoulder to slow herself down.
“Hey, I need you.” She looks at Jessa and offers a tight “hey” in her direction. Then back to me. “It’s private. Sorry.”
Jessa lets go of my hands. “No worries.”
“Okay, um, you’re all right on your own?”
She just nods and starts singing, “… beautiful garbage… beautiful dresses…”
I take that as a yes.
So I turn around, moving forward again, Kayla gliding sloppily but steadily beside me.
“Dade went to the snack bar,” she tells me, “but that skanky girl left right after him. I can’t fucking believe this.”
“Well, what did he say about her?”
“He said there was nothing there. But clearly he’s lying. Right?”
I can tell by her eyes, pleading, that she wants me to disagree and tell her there’s nothing to worry about, and god, I almost do because it’s killing me to see her so insecure.
But this is all for the greater good, I try to remind myself.
“Right,” I finally agree, and she looks about ready to crumple in on herself.
“It seemed like they had history or something.”
I hate myself.