Twice Kissed - Lisa Jackson [98]
“Oh, come on,” Jenny begged, and Becca was surprised that her cousin was so interested in Becca’s doing something that could land her in big trouble. Maybe there was more to Jenny than met the eye. Becca was already beginning to suspect that her older cousin might rat her out at a moment’s notice. Jenny had already demonstrated that she adhered to the CYA—cover your ass—mentality.
“Really, girls.” The woman shook her head. “I have a couple kids of my own, and if they did anything to their bodies behind my back, I’d give ’em what for, believe me.” Her overly made-up eyes were sincere. “As I said, next time, bring your mom.”
Since they had no other choice, Jenny and Becca walked outside, where the November sun was warm and bright, sparkling off the dusty sidewalk. No trees lined the streets in this part of town, and litter blew in the dry wind that followed the cars through the alleys and around squatty buildings.
“Bummer,” Jenny said. “I thought if we came down here, they’d do it. My friends go to nicer places. You know, they’re almost like doctors’ offices, but I knew they wouldn’t do it without a parent’s signature.” She unlocked the driver’s side of her silver Jetta, crawled inside and flipped a switch to unlock Becca’s door. As Becca took her seat, Jenny folded up the dash guard that she’d placed on the inside of the windshield to protect the interior from the heat. It didn’t help much. The car was pretty warm even though it was early November. But it felt good to Becca.
Leaning her seat back as Jenny eased into traffic and turned on the radio full blast to the sound of a song by Jewel, Becca smiled and told herself she didn’t miss her mother. Lately she had been such a pain. This was much better. Though hangin’ out with Aunt Connie and Uncle Jim wasn’t all that great. Connie was always sighing and complaining, and Jim was a tight-ass. Everything had to be just so.
But Jenny. For the most part, aside from her need to protect herself, she was beyond cool. Becca dragged a pair of sunglasses out of her backpack and slid them onto her face. Jenny fumbled in her purse for cigarettes and a lighter. “Want one?” she asked her younger cousin.
Becca grinned and took the offered filter tip. Jenny handed her the lighter and laughed when she couldn’t get the flame to hold steady. “Like this,” she explained, and flicked the lighter with expertise.
She held the flame to Becca’s cigarette and Becca drew in hard. Too hard. The smoke burned all the way to her lungs. She ended up coughing wildly, and Jenny laughed as she lit up and rammed her car into gear. “I wish I had a convertible,” she complained, but Becca didn’t mind. She didn’t even care that she couldn’t get the stupid tattoo. Rolling down her window, she took another puff, coughed, and was determined to get better at this smoking thing.
She leaned her seat way back and held her hand out the window with the cigarette burning. Oh, yeah, this was the life. She loved L.A.
“I overheard Mom and Dad talking last night,” Jenny said, as Becca watched a scraggly looking palm tree flash by.
“About what?”
“They were talkin’ about you coming to live with us permanently.”
“Really?” Becca coughed on more smoke. “Mom’s thinkin’ about it?”
“I don’t know. I…um, I don’t think I was supposed to hear—they were on the patio and the window was open, so I kinda just hung out and listened.” Jenny bit her lip. As if she’d revealed too much and was suddenly regretting it. She glanced over her shoulder, gunned the engine, and beat out a boy in a red Kia to the next light. “So, Becca, don’t say anything to your mom, okay? She probably wants to surprise you about this L.A. thing.”
“Cool,” Becca said, inhaling on the cigarette again. And it was—really cool. Maybe her mother was finally coming around.
Marquise’s home was no less than a mansion.