Leslie's Journal - Allan Stratton [18]
The truth is, I don’t. But I would’ve remembered that.
“Leslie, you’ve gotta believe me.” His voice is so sincere. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“Oh no? Well, what about the money? You made me feel like a hooker.”
“Sorry. It’s just, my folks got called back to town because Dad’s deal was falling apart. It was after midnight. They phoned ahead to let me know they were coming, so I wouldn’t think they were burglars or something.”
I’m sniffling, but I’m listening.
“Leslie, please, you gotta remember. We wanted you to make a good first impression. But you were so wasted—we both were—we thought you should leave, come back to meet them another time. I paid for the cab, sure, but what was I supposed to do? You didn’t have any money. I felt responsible. And I was way too drunk to drive.”
I look in his eyes, and there’s so much pain there it breaks my heart. How could I have thought those terrible things about him? I was zoned out of my mind, and he took care of me. I should be thanking him.
“Leslie, I have feelings for you. I mean it. If I’ve done or said anything to upset you, I’m sorry.” He’s all helpless now. How could I be so wrong?
“Did you mean it about meeting your folks?”
“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to.”
“No. That’d be fantastic.”
He kisses me gently on the eyelids. “How about now?” he whispers.
I wash my face before heading out. I also change into the Mom-Approved Clothes stashed in my locker, in case Mrs. McCready has a thing against vinyl mini-skirts. They don’t make me look like a nun exactly, but I’m decent enough not to scare anybody.
As it turns out, I’m not the one who needs to worry about looking decent. When we get to Jason’s house, it’s like Saturday: the Camry’s in the drive but the BMW is missing. Jason says his dad must still be at work. Inside, the place is quiet as a tomb. I wonder if coming over was such a good idea. Then, from upstairs, I hear this voice. It sounds like a movie star, all husky and glamorous. “Is that you, Doug?”
“No, it’s me, Mom.”
“I am so annoyed with your father,” the Voice exhales. It’s coming down the stairs. “He promised he’d be home early. We’re supposed to be at the Richardsons’ in an hour and he hasn’t phoned.”
Now I see the Voice, and It sees me. I’m not sure who’s more surprised.
Mrs. McCready could be a model. She’s tall with a long neck, designer hair and an amazing figure. But there’s something wrong with the picture. She’s in her slip, with a mud mask on her face and a glass of tomato juice in her hand.
“This is Leslie. Leslie, this is my mom.”
Mrs. McCready decides to pretend everything’s normal. “How do you do?” she nods, then tilts her chin at Jason. “You didn’t mention we’d be having company. Your father and I are going out.”
“We’re working on a geography project for school tomorrow. We’ll be down in the rec room.”
She considers this briefly. “Good. There’s pie in the fridge if you get hungry.”
Before I know it, Jason and I are heading downstairs.
“Does your mom really think we’re in the same grade?” I whisper.
“My mom doesn’t think at all after three o’clock.” He winks. I don’t get it. “Leslie, wake up. You think that’s just tomato juice she’s drinking?”
“But she acts so sober.”
“Practice makes perfect.” He puts his arms around me. “Speaking of practice ...”
I resist, but the kiss is so nice I start kissing him back. My eyes are closed, and there’s little flashes of light. It feels like that first day on the football field, only better.
After a few minutes, Jason breaks away. He goes into the bathroom and brings back a towel, folding it carefully in the middle of the sofa.
“What’s that for?”
“You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”
His girlfriend? Wow! “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well ...” He flashes that smile and sweeps his arm towards the sofa as if he’s a waiter directing me to the best table in some fancy restaurant. “It’s not like we haven’t before.”
That’s true. I mean, the damage is already done, and if we’re going out, well ... All the same, I feel weird. “Your mom’s upstairs.”
“So we’ll keep quiet. Besides, she