“Oh my gosh!”
I held out my arms and felt the power of the transformation. “I feel like a hippie when I wear this.”
“Where can you wear it? Your dad can’t have changed his mind that much.”
“He doesn’t mind the peasant blouses.” I glance at the door as if he might burst through. “The jeans I keep at school and change when I get there.”
Phoebe laughs. “You’re so smart.”
I pulled jeans on and pulled my shapeless dress over all of it, hiding the peasant blouse. My dad didn’t care if I wore pants under my dresses. I just couldn’t wear them alone. “C’mon,” I said, and tugged her down the stairs. “Let’s go meet Joel.”
He was waiting for us by the movie theater, as we’d arranged. I saw him leaning against the wall, smoking, and suddenly got worried that my only two friends in the world wouldn’t like each other. Joel looked hard with his long hair and jean jacket and the cigarette. His acne made his face red, and today it looked aggravated, which made me feel protective. “He is a really good person,” I said. “He’s such a good artist. You guys will like each other a lot.”
Phoebe said in a funny voice, “That’s him?”
“Yeah. Joel!” I called. I’d shed my dress and hidden it in my backpack. I’d taken out the braids and shaken my hair out, and it flowed like a cloak around me, heavy and too much, but I had discovered people noticed me when it was loose like this. “This is Phoebe.”
He eyed her, lifting his chin her direction while he took another drag off his cigarette. He tossed it aside and held out his hand. Phoebe held hers out and they shook, and it seemed like there was a strange little space between them when he didn’t let go that fast, and she was very quiet. “Hi” was all she said.
A ping of jealousy rippled through me, but I wasn’t sure who I wanted to keep to myself. I plunged between them, taking each one by the arm. “Movie is going to start! Let’s go!” But I really wanted to get off the street in case my dad was finished with his sermon or somebody from church saw me.
“What are we seeing? I didn’t bring any money.”
I point at the marquee. “Billy Jack! It came!”
“What?” Phoebe’s mouth opened. “Cool. But I still didn’t bring any money.”
“I got it. I’ve made some money babysitting and sewing.”
“I’ll pay you back,” she said.
“My treat,” I said. “Both of you.”
Phoebe
Joel had the shiniest, longest hair I’d ever seen on a boy. It fell like a satin curtain over his shoulders. Light sank into it and glowed outward. My fingers itched to feel it. He did have acne, like Suze told me, but it didn’t take away from him much. His dark eyes rested on my face easily, as if he liked it, and I felt something in me open, expand. His hand gave me a zing, and when I would have let go, he hung on.
Then Suze was between us and we were in the movie with popcorn and root beer and the movie was starting. It was so intense and made me cry hard, and when we stumbled out into the dark, rainy afternoon, I felt hollowed out. “That was rough.”
All three of us were quiet, walking side by side. We stopped in the candy store and got a bunch of penny candies, and then without even talking about it, we took the trail to our house on the hill. I let us in by the lower window, and we carried our stash upstairs to the kitchen, which looked out over the water. Joel sat beside me. “Did you ever live on a reservation?” I asked. “Like the kids in the movie?”
He shook his head, lips downturned. “We lived in Seattle and Portland before here,” he said.
“I live in Portland.”
He gives me a half grin. “I heard that.”
Blushing, I bowed my head, wanting to sink through the floor.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you blush,” he said, and I blushed even worse.
“I hate this!” I said, pressing my hands over my face to hide it.
Suze said, “Phoebe, it’s okay. You look cute when you blush.” She peeled a red licorice string out of the package and gave me one. “You can’t blush and eat at the same time.”
With her hair loose, so long it piled on the floor next to her, and the soft peasant blouse that was ever so faintly see-through, and her jeans, she didn’t look like my Suze. She was beautiful, almost too beautiful, like a model or something. It made me feel weird and I didn’t know if I liked it.