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He shook his head slightly at her, puffed on his cigar, and turned back to me. “In any case, you’ve been very generous in permitting her to rework herself into decent behavior. I’m also impressed with the influence you’ve had on her. Now, even more important perhaps, I wanted to tell you how pleased I am to hear about your own progress and achievements. I must admit I was wary when Jordan, Mrs. March, wanted to have this arrangement, but I’m very happy to be proven wrong. Is there anything you need? Anything I can do for you?”
I looked at Mrs. March. She was finally smiling warmly.
“No, sir. I have more than I ever dreamed I would have,” I said, and he laughed.
“You and me both, Sasha. You and me both. Okay. I just wanted to have this little talk. Don’t hesitate to come to me if I can do anything more or if anything bothers
you, okay? I know you have Mrs. March to rely on, but I want you to know you have me as well.”
“Thank you.”
He smiled and went around to his desk chair. I rose, glanced at Mrs. March, and then hurried out and up the stairs. Kiera was waiting for me at her doorway.
“What did he want?” she asked. “Was he trying to get you to tell him something? My mother must have put him up to it. Well?”
“No, nothing like that,” I said. “He wanted to tell me how pleased he was with how things were going between us and how both of us were doing now,” I said. “He told me not to hesitate if I needed or wanted anything.”
“My father said that?”
“Yes. He was very nice, nicer to me than ever.”
She studied me a moment to see if I was telling the truth and then smiled. “That’s my father. He can be a real charmer when he wants to be. This is great. Mother might ease up on us. Okay. Get to your homework,” she said, and went into her room.
On Friday as planned, all of the girls in the VA club met us after school and followed as Kiera drove me to a tattoo parlor in West L.A. The man doing the tattoos looked as if he was tattooed on every possible area of his body. There was a snake up his right arm beginning at his wrist and what looked like a chain up his left arm. He even had a tattoo on his throat.
All of the girls followed us into a small area in the rear, and the tattooing began. It wasn’t pleasant, and twice I was on the verge of screaming that I wanted him to stop, but Kiera stood right beside him, and the girls were right behind her. Afterward, I looked at it in a full-length mirror by holding another mirror to catch the reflection. It looked bigger than theirs, and he had done what they had asked, a form of calligraphy.
They insisted on celebrating. Kiera called Mrs. March and told her we had gone to the mall so that I could get my ears pierced. She asked her to let us hang out and go for pizza with some friends. Minutes after she hung up, my phone rang, and Mrs. March asked me if we were doing what Kiera had said we were doing. Kiera knew, of course, that it was her mother calling me, and she watched and listened. I had no choice but to lie.
“Let’s get to the mall,” Kiera said. “We really do need to get your ears pierced, remember?”
Instead of going someplace for pizza afterward, however, we all went to Marcia’s house. She had a younger brother, but her parents had left for a weekend in San Diego and had taken him along. Kiera had told me that Marcia’s father owned car dealerships up and down the coast. A girl whose parents were only middle-class would have a hard time being friends with members of the VA club, I thought. She would always be intimidated by their clothes, their jewelry, and their cars. That feeling was reinforced when I saw Marcia’s family’s home, a sprawling two-story in a place called Brentwood Park. She had a live-in maid, too, but her maid had the night off.
We did order in pizza, and then, to my surprise, boys began to arrive. Ricky and Boyd came first, and then three other boys followed—Tony Sussman, Jack Martin, and Ruben Weiner. They were all seniors as well. In fact, I was the only one there who wasn’t. As before, no one seemed particularly involved with anyone else. When they danced, everyone was dancing with everyone. I saw the vodka being added to the soda and juice, but when Marcia offered me some, Kiera interfered.
“Sasha doesn’t drink,” she said. She said it so sharply that Marcia looked as if she had been slapped.
“Well, excuse me. I didn’t know we had a Mormon in the club.”
“She’s not a Mormon. I promised my mother I wouldn’t let her get into any drinking after what happened to her parents, remember? They were killed by a drunk driver.”
“Oh. Sorry,” Marcia said, turning to me and looking as if she would burst into tears.
Kiera seemed to wink with her whole face. She leaned over to whisper, “She needs to drink to have fun. You and I don’t.”
Later, Ricky spent more time with me. We sat and talked and ate.
“I’ve got to work tomorrow,” he said. “I have next weekend off, and I’m sure I’ll get the boat.”
“I’ve never been on a boat,” I said.
“You will be next weekend.” He looked at the others and then brought his lips to mine. It wasn’t a quick peck, either. It was a soft, long kiss. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I expected that everyone would be looking at us, but no one was.
We kissed again and again before the party ended, but we didn’t do much more. I wasn’t disappointed, but I was anticipating it. When Kiera announced that we had to leave, Ricky followed us out. He kissed me again before I got into the car. I knew Kiera was watching.
“See you soon,” he said, but he held on to my arm. Then he leaned in, bringing his lips to my ear. “I hear you were inducted into the VA club,” he whispered. “I hope I’m the one.”
He turned and walked back into the house before I could respond, not that I knew what to say. When I got into the car, Kiera asked me immediately what he had whispered. I told her. I was surprised that he knew about the club.
