Seven
Nat
“Natalie?” my mom called as I came through the door after school. “You want cookies?”
My mom doesn’t bake, not unless she’s making a totally obvious effort to lure me into a conversation. Of course, there was no way my honesty-loving mom would approve of my Scott-stalking plans, so it was best if she just didn’t know about them.
“I’m not hungry,” I tried as I shrugged out of my coat, but then she came into the hallway and gave me her social-worker look. Well, she’s got quite a few of those looks, but this was one of her best. It was like she was saying, “I know we’ve got things to talk about, and I know you know that, too. I think you’re brave enough to have the conversation now. Am I wrong?” Start with the honesty, follow up with a challenge to my courage. Yeah, it worked well.
“You want to talk about Toby?” I said. Maybe we could get this done without a huge scene. I just needed to stay away from the cookies. “It really wasn’t a big deal. We were just…you know, just trying something. We’ve been friends for a long time, we’re both single, so we thought we’d see if there was anything else there.”
“And was there?”
Interesting question, but not one I wanted to think about right then. Or ever. “You know, it was a good kiss. But that’s to be expected, right? I mean…” I didn’t think I wanted to get into my theory about how Dawn must have taught Toby a lot of stuff, so I just shrugged. “He’s a good guy. But this isn’t a big thing—don’t go planning our wedding or anything.”
She didn’t look totally satisfied with that answer, but she let it go. “You have a game tonight? I’m on call, so I’ll try to be there, but I can’t be sure.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I meant it. My mom was the furthest thing from a hockey fan, but she’d done a great job of faking enthusiasm for the sport back when I was younger and all the other kids had parents who were super involved. She’d done more fund-raising than coaching, maybe, but I’d known she was there for me. Now? I was older, and she shouldn’t have to work so hard anymore. “If we make the playoffs, I’ll let you know. But this game isn’t a big deal.”
“I’ll try to be there,” she said firmly.
“Okay,” I said. “And…I’m going to the Raiders’ game first.”
She gave me another look, this one a bit harder to translate. “You don’t usually go to those games,” she said neutrally.
“No, not usually,” I agreed and headed upstairs.
I’d just gotten into my room and pulled the closet door open when my phone buzzed in my pocket. Dawn’s name showed up on the screen.
She and I got along well, but we weren’t super close. She only knew about my crush on Scott because she’d caught me staring at him one too many times and demanded an explanation. So it would have been a little strange for her to have been calling me, usually. But not so much anymore.
“What am I supposed to wear to a Raiders game?” I asked her instead of saying hello.
“That’s what I was calling to talk about. I’m not far from your place. Can I come over and we can look at what you’ve got?”
“There’s really not much to look at, but, yeah, sure, I can use all the help I can get. Even if Scott isn’t there in person, he’ll hear about anything big that happens. I’d really like it if he didn’t hear about Toby’s new girlfriend showing up looking like a total mess.”
The doorbell rang about thirty seconds later, and I jogged downstairs just as my mom was opening the door.
“Were you already in the driveway?” I asked Dawn.
She grinned. “I said I wasn’t far.”
“Would you two like fresh cookies?” my mom asked, still hopeful.
“Cookies? Absolutely!” Dawn shrugged out of her jacket. “I’m Dawn. I go to school with Nat.”
“Dawn?” my mom said, as if she was trying to figure out why the name was familiar.
Crap.
Dawn’s smile got a little tight.
Learning to Kill: Stories