Shine - Lauren Myracle [65]
Robert looked at me like I had a bug crawling out of my ear. “I don’t know why people say you’re so smart. You sure seem dumb to me.”
“Excuse me?”
“You think my daddy lets Bailee-Ann have sleepovers with boys?” He laughed. “What would they do, put that mud stuff all over their faces and paint each other’s nails?”
“Robert, you’re making no sense. Talk normal.”
“Tommy got Bailee-Ann, and Tommy brought Bailee-Ann back,” Robert said, real slow like he was explaining it to a potato. “She was in her bed the next morning, so she didn’t spend the whole night with him. So where’d Tommy go after he dropped her off?” He gestured with his cone. “See?”
My fingers got fidgety on the table. The adrenaline was coming back. “How long were they together? What time did Tommy bring Bailee-Ann home?”
“Dunno. She must have stepped over me.”
“Huh?”
“I slept under her window. She was s’posed to wake me up, but the sun did instead.”
“You slept on her floor?”
“And when I woke up, Bailee-Ann was in her bed. And I got a crick in my neck, and it still hurts.”
“So don’t sleep on the floor.”
“I had to, so I’d know she was back home and not with Tommy no more. But hey, least she’s not a dyke.”
He wanted a reaction, but all I could think about was Tommy.
“That’s the word for a girl faggot, if you didn’t know,” he informed me.
I think we’re done here, I was fixing to say, but Robert got in before me.
“If she ever did try to be one, I’d stop her, because no tears for queers, like Beef said. He told me not to go down that faggot path, not ever, ’cause one way or another, faggots get what they deserve.” He hesitated. “Even the nice ones, like Patrick.”
Robert stopped puffing his chest out. Be nice to fags. Don’t hit ’em. Don’t call ’em that. But say they do get beat up, and they land in the hospital with burns all around their mouths and deep down in the pink of their lungs. Well if that happens, don’t waste your time crying for them, because they had it coming.
“I don’t think Patrick deserved to get hurt,” I said.
Robert searched my face. “Yeah?”
“I don’t think Beef thinks that, either. In fact, I’m sure of it.” Robert looked uncertain.
“Maybe he just feels like he has to act tough, or the other guys’ll give him a hard time,” I suggested.
“Whatever,” Robert said, drawing an invisible line on the table with one finger.
I remembered what Robert had said earlier, about Beef dogging him of late. “Plus he’s busy with work, and plus he’s just got a lot on his mind. He’s not ditching you, Robert.”
“Did I say he was?” Robert said. “No.”
“Well, good.” I paused. “The two of you got any plans coming up?”
“Like you said, he’s busy,” Robert said defensively. “Real busy. Super busy.”
“Too busy to make time for you?”
He flushed a violent red.
Nice, Cat, I told myself. To make amends, I said, “He’s too busy for me, too. Just for the record.” Not that I was yapping at his heels, but I saw no need to mention that. “When y’all do hang out, what do y’all do?”
He shrugged. “We go to Suicide Rock sometimes. He likes it there.”
I frowned. Robert plus rocks and water wasn’t a good combination. Add in Robert’s inborn need to show-off, and maybe it was for the best that Beef had stopped giving him attention.
“You do know to only jump from the jumping rock, right?” I said just in case. “You can’t jump from the one that’s one higher up.”
“Not yet, but I’m gonna. If Beef can do it, so can I.”
“No, Robert. Absolutely not.” There was no way Robert could launch himself far enough to clear the rock below. There was no way Beef would let him try, either. Still, I shivered as if someone had walked over my grave.
“I want you to give me your word that you won’t,” I said. “Will you do that for me?”
“Yes, Mama. Thank you, Mama.” He rolled his eyes. “I think I can take care of myself just fine, Mama.”
I let it go, knowing that ordering Robert not to do something was probably the best way to make sure he did. “What else do you and Beef do besides going to the swimming hole?” I asked.
“Sometimes me and him go