Read Online Pretending Normal by Mary Campisi - Free Book Online Page B

“Let’s get out of here. How about a double dip at Benny’s?”
    “ Sounds great.”
    He smiles then, that meandering curve of lips that starts a slow burn in my belly and makes him the Peter I know. “Come on”—he takes my hand—“let’s go.”
    When we reach Benny’s the parking lot is packed. “Do you want to get takeout?”
    “Sure.” After what’s just happened, I need to be alone with him, not surrounded by half of Norwood.
    “Sara?” He pulls into a parking spot and shuts off the engine. “I’ve been trying to find the right time to ask you something.” He turns to me, brushes his fingers along my cheek, “Maybe what happened a little while ago was a good thing because it made me realize how much you mean to me.” He takes my hand, presses it to his lips. “I really care about you, Sara. Very much.”
    “I feel the same way.”
    “And I’d like you to wear this.” He removes his class ring and slides it on my third finger. “A little big”—he grins—“but it looks great on you.”
    I finger the blue stone in the center of the ring. It’s from West River High School in Pittsburgh. Not Norwood. “Thank you,” I say in a voice that sounds giddy and gravelly, at the same time.
    “You’re very welcome .” He leans in, kisses me. “You’re the only girl who’s ever worn that.” I open my mouth and let his tongue fill me. “Sara,” he breathes, easing the edge of my tank top from my jean shorts. “You’re the only one who ever will.”
    I wrap my arms around his neck and press myself against him, sucking his tongue with long, even strokes. “Stop.” He pulls away, his breath heavy, filling the space between us. “You’re driving me crazy.”
    “ Am I?”
    “You’ re a witch, you know that?” He touches my neck. “Later,” he says in a raspy voice.
    “Later,” I repeat, my own voice low, husky.
    “I’m going to get the double dip and fries. You sit here and think nice thoughts, like what you’re going to wear to Homecoming.”
    “That’s months away, and besides, I haven’t even been asked.”
    “I asked when I gave you that,” he says, pointing to his ring.
    “Okay then.”
    “Okay then.”
    Peter disappears into Benny’s and I lean back against the seat, close my eyes, my skin still tingling. I love him.
    A buzzing inside the car startles me and I jerk my eyes open, swatting at the noise. A yellow jacket darts back and forth under Peter’s steering wheel. I flip off my sandal and start swinging, the buzzing escalating with each swat, until whap. No more buzz. I lean over Peter’s seat, searching for the bee when I catch sight of a piece of plastic sticking out from under the mat on Peter’s side.
    Will it be a Ho -Ho or a Twinkie wrapper? I reach over and tug on the plastic. It’s a little pouch like the one in Kay’s purse. My lungs clog up, my head and heart pounding hard enough to explode as I finger the black capsules through the plastic.
    Then I yank back the mat and see the faint bulge in the floor with a narrow slit running along the length of the carpet. I poke a finger inside and pull out wads of plastic—yellow pills, white pills, blue pills, green and black capsules. So many lies. Were we a lie, too? I grab a fistful of packets and am half out the door when Peter calls my name.
    “Sara? Where are you going?”
    He stands there, holding a cardboard carrier filled with a double dip and fries, and looking so innocent… no normal. But now I know he’s only pretending normal.
    “Sara!” He sets the carrier on the roof of the Chevelle and rushes toward me. “For God’s sake, what’s wrong?”
    It is impossible to blink him into focus, because my eyes are too wet. I blink again and then one more time, until I can almost make out his face, can almost hone in on those turquoise eyes. “Lies,” my voice is flat. “All lies.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Rudy was right. You’re a pusher.” I hurl the packets at him, mindless