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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781459411630 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | James Lorimer & Company Ltd., Publishers |
| Publication date: | 08/01/2016 |
| Series: | Lorimer SideStreets Series |
| Sold by: | De Marque |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 184 |
| Lexile: | 600L (what's this?) |
| File size: | 735 KB |
| Age Range: | 14 - 18 Years |
About the Author
MELANIE FLORENCE is a proud Cree and a full-time writer currently based in Toronto. She is the author of the Righting Canada's Wrongs: Residential Schools, the YA novel The Missing, the Lorimer SideStreets title One Night, and Recordbooks title Jordin Tootoo: The Highs and Lows in the Journey of the First Inuk to Play in the NHL, which was chosen as an Honor Book by The American Indian Library Association. As a freelance journalist, Melanies byline has appeared in magazines including Dance International, Writer, Parents Canada, and Urban Male Magazine.
Read an Excerpt
Rez Runaway
By Melanie Florence
James Lorimer & Company Ltd.
Copyright © 2016 Melanie FlorenceAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4594-1163-0
CHAPTER 1
Aunt Ava
I usually spent Saturday mornings with my mom, drinking coffee and catching up. My mom filled me in on her visits with my Aunt Ava and what she learned at church or bible study or women's group. She talked about what she was planting in her garden and what she was going to cook over the next week. I mostly talked about school. She loved to hear about what I was learning or reading. I showed her what I was working on in my sketchbook. She was one of the few people who knew how much I loved to draw. I told her about the funny things Benjy said or the huge fish I caught but threw back. It was something we had done together since I was a kid, except for me drinking coffee.
"So I saw the way that Betsy's granddaughter was looking at you at Paulette's fish fry," my mom said slyly. She peered at me over the rim of her steaming mug.
I blew on my own coffee and avoided her eyes. "Roz. Yeah. I know."
"She's a nice girl, that Roz."
Oh she's shrewd, I thought. Like any mom, she was curious about my love life, which was pretty much non-existent. Rather than being relieved that I wasn't out running around with a bunch of girls, she worried about it. She asked a million questions. Why aren't you dating anyone? Why are you so picky? What's wrong with Betsy's granddaughter? She was now in full on matchmaker mode.
"Yeah. She's really nice," I said simply.
"And so pretty."
"Sure," I mumbled.
"So?" she prompted.
"So what?" I asked. I was acting dumb, even though I knew that drove my mom crazy.
She raised an eyebrow at me. "So ... you should ask her out after church. She could come over for lunch."
"Mom!" I felt my face burning. There was a fine line between a casual interest in my dating life and actually pimping me out to her friend's granddaughter.
"What? You're seventeen. You should go out once in a while with a nice girl."
"I do go out, Mom," I grumbled. I took a huge gulp of coffee and nearly spit it across the table at her when the lava-hot liquid seared my tongue.
"With your friends," she pointed out.
"You like my friends."
"I do," she admitted. "But some of them never set foot inside the church. And some of them go out more than I think is proper."
"But I don't go out enough?" I asked, teasing her.
She shrugged. "I just worry that growing up without your father around maybe didn't give you much of an example on how to have a relationship."
I smiled at her. "Mom, I promise you that you haven't damaged me or anything. If I meet someone I like enough to ask out, I will. Okay?"
"Okay." She smiled back. "Are you coming to church with me tomorrow?"
"Yeah, maybe. Depends what time I get in, I guess." I smirked at her. "See? I go out."
"Yeah, yeah." She stood up and shuffled over to the refrigerator and started pulling out eggs and bacon to make some breakfast.
"I'll help," I told her, standing up and taking the egg carton from her.
"Anyone home?" My Aunt Ava breezed through the back door and sauntered into the kitchen. It was her usual greeting, even though everyone on the rez knew when my mom was in. My mom and her sister had a standing date on Saturdays to cook and gossip. Aunt Ava lived with my grandfather in the tiny house the sisters had grown up in. I suspected that their Saturday mornings were more about her getting away from him than from a need to catch up on who was fighting with who on the rez.
Aunt Ava set a bag of vegetables from my grandfather's garden, a loaf of her fresh-baked bread, and one of her world-famous apple pies on the counter. She leaned down to kiss me on the cheek before pouring herself a cup of coffee and flopping into the chair across from me.
"Did you tell him we saw Betsy's granddaughter at Paulette's fish fry?" Aunt Ava asked my mom. She took a sip of her coffee before dumping several spoonfuls of sugar into it and stirring it idly.
I rolled my eyes.
"I did," my mother replied.
"And?"
My mother shrugged.
"I'm sitting right here," I waved at them.
Aunt Ava turned to look at me. "So, smart guy? What do you think of her? What's her name? Ron?" Ron? "Roz," I corrected her. "She's nice. Not really my type though." That was an understatement, I thought.
"Oh really? And what is your type?" she asked.
My mother smiled. She loved when her sister came over and backed her up.
"My type?" I stalled. Batman. Superman. Pretty much any hot superhero in a skin-tight suit. "I don't know. Maybe that girl from that show? I forget her name." Smooth, Joe, I mocked myself. I was practically sweating. It was one thing to get around my mom's questions. But it was a lot harder when there were two of them ganging up on me.
My aunt cocked her head at me, her eyebrows raised. "Which girl? From which show?"
"The girl!" I said, not meeting her eyes. "You know!"
But I saw the look that passed between my aunt and my mom. It was time for me to beat a hasty retreat before I was buried under a landslide of questions.
I hated lying to them. Especially to my mother. It had just been the two of us for so long. It didn't feel right to be dishonest. But if I was being honest, I was afraid of what my mom would think. What would she do if she knew that it wasn't some big-breasted, empty-headed starlet I lusted after? She was the person I loved and trusted the most in the world. And I was afraid to tell her that the celebrities I dreamed about were usually much less ... feminine.
I swallowed and ducked my head, taking one last gulp of coffee. I swallowed my truth down with it.
I kissed each of them on the cheek.
"You need someone more exciting to gossip about," I told them.
Aunt Ava laughed and cut a thick slice of still-warm bread from the loaf she had baked that morning. She slathered it with my mom's homemade strawberry jam and handed it to me.
"Off with you," she winked. She turned toward my mom. "Did you hear about what happened to the Thibideaus?" Clearly I was no longer the hot topic.
My mother nodded at Aunt Ava. But there was something about the way her eyes lingered on me as I strode out the door. Had she guessed more about me than she was willing to admit?
CHAPTER 2Secrets
It's not easy having a secret. It's even harder trying to keep one on the rez. Everyone knows everyone else's business. Say you found out that your man was cheating on you and wanted to cry on your kokum's shoulder. Your grandmother would already know all about it by the time you walked across the rez to her house.
Let me give you another example. I hadn't really dated much, for obvious reasons I suppose. But my friends started planning this group date, which was really just a bunch of us hanging out in our usual clearing in the woods. I figured the easiest thing to do was just go along with it. No matter what we called them, these parties or dates or whatever didn't entail much more than sitting around the fire and talking about sports or school. Once in a while, someone would take a date farther into the woods for some privacy.
Let's face it. I didn't want to go on a date, group or otherwise. I wanted to head out with Benjy and Marcus and Marcus's younger brother, Draco. (Their mother was a big Harry Potter fan ... although why she named her kid after the biggest jerk in the movie and not the hero is anyone's guess.) I wanted to meet up with the other guys and not have to worry about fending off the advances of a girl I wasn't really interested in. I especially didn't want to sit watching the person I was secretly interested in go off with a girl into the woods.
But a group date is a good cover when you've got a secret like mine.
Benjy had been my best friend for as long as I could remember. Before that even. My mom always told me how she'd sit beside Benjy's mom at church when they were both pregnant and how they'd laugh when we both starting kicking at the same time. She said she knew we were destined to be friends after that.
And we were.
My earliest memory of Benjy is of a skinny little kid in a Batman T-shirt who cried when his red crayon broke in half. He was trying to draw Spiderman. It was a good drawing — better than mine — so I handed over my own red crayon. And pushed Robbie Cardinal down for laughing at him for crying. From that moment Benjy and I were best friends. I had his back then and I've had it ever since. I doubt it had ever crossed his mind that anything had changed. He didn't know that his best friend looked at him much differently these days.
Benjy's voice broke into my thoughts.
"You should ask Sadie to the clearing," he said, kicking a stone ahead of him like it was a soccer ball. He dribbled it from foot to foot. Then he shot his right foot forward, catching the rock on his instep and sending it flying into a tree. He threw his arms up in the air, his T-shirt riding up and showing off a flat, brown stomach. I felt my own stomach flip and looked away quickly.
"Nice shot," I told him. He threw an arm around my neck and pulled me into his side. I could smell the raw scent of him. He smelled of sweat and cologne and hair product and toothpaste and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. I breathed him in. I wanted to bury my face in his neck. I pulled away and pretended to slam dunk into the nearest tree just to get away from him. Lame. So lame.
"Seriously, man. Sadie's into you. She's wanted you since the third grade," Benjy teased, punching me on the arm. "Dude, she's a sure thing."
"I don't know. I like a challenge," I replied. Yeah, wasn't that the truth.
"Oh come on, Joe. You never hook up with anyone. And Sadie likes you. Just ask her out, man."
Benjy was looking at me expectantly. I shrugged.
"Listen, man, some of the guys are talking."
"What do you mean?" I asked. But I knew exactly what he meant.
Benjy looked away, kicking at another rock. "I don't know. You just never go out with anyone. It's weird."
"It's not weird," I insisted, mildly.
"It kinda is," he muttered, looking at the ground.
I clenched my jaw, thinking about what he was saying. And about the fact that my friends were talking.
"So Sadie, huh?" I asked, not meeting his eyes.
He looked up, smiling. "Yeah, man. She's really into you." He paused. "You should ask her."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay." I swallowed. "She's pretty hot, right?"
"Oh yeah. Definitely. I'm going to see if Brit wants to meet up with me."
"Why Brit?" I asked. "I didn't even know you liked her."
"What's not to like?" He smirked at me. "She's got huge boobs. And I hear she lets you go to second base."
I didn't even know what second base was. But the thought of Benjy getting to it with Brit made me feel a little queasy.
"So what are you waiting for? Call Sadie!" Benjy said.
"I will later," I told him.
"You will not. You'll wait until the last minute, when someone else has asked her. Because you already know that JT likes her and wants to ask her out. Get your phone and call her!" he demanded.
"I will," I promised.
"Now!"
I jumped and grabbed my phone. "Okay, okay. Jeez."
I found Sadie's number and called her. "Hey, Sadie? It's Joe. Littlechief?"
Benjy rolled his eyes. Probably because we had all grown up together and she knew my last name as well as her own.
"Yeah, so anyway ... I was wondering what you were doing tonight? Nothing? Great. Ummm ..."
Benjy punched me in the arm and mouthed, "get on with it!"
"Owww! Sorry. I ... banged my head." Benjy was miming shooting himself. In the head, coincidentally. "Anyway ... a bunch of us are hanging out in the clearing tonight. Oh you are? Okay. Well, do you want to maybe hang out with me there? You do? Great! So I'll meet you there? Oww!"
Benjy had punched me again in exactly the same spot.
I rubbed my arm. "I mean, I'll pick you up at eight. Okay. Bye."
"Yes!" Benjy yelled and high-fived me hard. "My man! You have got yourself a date!"
"Yeah!" I smiled. I tried to show Benjy an excitement I didn't feel. And I wondered how the hell I had gotten myself into this.
CHAPTER 3The Big Date
I was nervous as I walked over to Sadie's to pick her up. I checked to see if anyone was around and fanned my armpits, trying desperately to dry the sweat that was threatening to drip down my torso. I knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer.
The door flew open. Sadie's mom stood there, wiping her hands on her apron and smiling widely at me.
"Joe! Come in!" she said. "Have you eaten? Would you like some fry bread? How about a piece of pie? Coffee?" "No thank you. I'm good. Already ate," I assured her. "Is Sadie ready?" I was sweating again just thinking about having to go on this date.
"Yeah, she is. SADIE!" she yelled without turning away from me. Which means I got an earful of screaming mother.
I smiled through the pain, wondering if my eardrum had vibrated itself apart. "Thanks," I said, far too loudly. I shook my head, trying to regain hearing on the left.
Sadie walked into the room, holding one of her little brothers by the hand. "Hi Joe," she said. She looked down at her brother. "See? I told you Joe was coming. I'll be home later, okay? I'll come in and give you a kiss after my date."
Her brother — I think it was Martin but I always got them mixed up — nodded solemnly. I smiled at him and he hid behind Sadie's leg. I had known that kid since he was born and he still hid from me.
I smiled at Sadie. "You look really nice," I told her. And she did. She had layered a couple of tank tops and the outer one was hanging off her shoulder. Her cut-off shorts and loose ponytail looked casual but the silver chain and beaded earrings showed she had made a little effort. It occurred to me that most guys probably wouldn't notice so much about her outfit. Or wish they had such good fashion sense.
She beamed at me and smoothed her top down around her hips. "Thank you," she said, smiling shyly. "So do you. Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, okay."
I said goodbye to Sadie's mom as I led the way out the door. I felt a sharp pang of guilt at the happiness on both their faces. Like me, Sadie didn't go out much. I had grown up with her. She had pushed me in the mud in kindergarten for pulling her hair. She had taught me how to draw a horse. She had shared her lunch with me when I forgot mine. She had been nothing but nice — aside from the mud puddle incident. I always knew she liked me. But when did she start really liking me? Liking me the same way I liked Benjy. Looking at how happy her mom was and the effort Sadie had made to look nice for our date made me feel like the worst person in the world. I wondered briefly, if I didn't fit in with someone like Sadie, where did I belong?
The clearing was a short walk from Sadie's house. There was a path that led through the woods to the area that the local teenagers had taken over and made their own when my mom and Aunt Ava were young. When we inherited it, we brought lawn chairs, coolers, a radio and a bunch of lanterns. We had a fire pit right in the centre and as long as we didn't cause any trouble, the adults left us pretty much alone. The clearing was already full of kids dancing, talking, laughing, and coupling up. I saw Benjy sitting near the fire with Brit in his lap. My heart twisted.
"Want me to get you a drink?" Sadie asked, slipping her hand into mine. She ran her fingers over my knuckles and looked down at my hand, feeling the scars. "How did you get those?" she asked. "It looks like you've been in a few fights," she said, an admiring look on her face.
She was right, if you could call punching a wall repeatedly a fist fight. I knew how stupid and pointless it was. But it wasn't other people I wanted to hurt. And there was something about the pain in my hands that made me feel better for a little while.
"Umm," I tore my gaze away from Benjy and squeezed Sadie's hand, smiling faintly down at her. "Working on my car."
"Well it looks like it must have really hurt," Sadie said. She rubbed her fingers over several years' worth of wall-punching scars while I wished futilely that it was Benjy's hands stroking mine. I pulled out of her grasp.
"I'd actually love a drink. Thanks, Sadie."
She beamed at me and wandered off toward the nearest cooler. She stopped along the way, hugging friends. She was such a sweet girl. I wished with all my heart that I could care for her as much as she did for me. I also wished that I could be as open and affectionate with my friends as she was.
I looked over at Benjy again. I caught his eye and he smirked at me as he gave Brit a squeeze. I tried to smile back.
Sadie had made her way back to me with two cans of pop. She leaned over and handed me the Coke.
"Thanks," I told her, taking a sip.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Rez Runaway by Melanie Florence. Copyright © 2016 Melanie Florence. Excerpted by permission of James Lorimer & Company Ltd..
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