Lennon's Jinx Read Online Free PDF Page B

I wish we lived in LA so I
could see them more.”
    Denage
is Jonathan’s latest entanglement.
    Currie
pushes out her bottom lip and pouts. It’s her favorite pastime.
    I
hate to admit it, but Currie’s sour lip routine normally makes me give into her.
Jonathan is a whole other matter. Currie sees him at Christmas and during the
summer. That’s our arrangement for now. “Be careful what you wish for.”
    “Dad
wants you to call him. He needs to talk to you.”
    “I’m
sure it can wait.”
    “Please,”
she says. “It’s important.”
    “I’ll
think about it.” If Jonathan dropped off the face of the earth, it would be
better for us both.
    Currie
doesn’t remember him strung out on crack cocaine and heroin or the endless
parties. Escaping from the harsh Chicago winters to the sunny beaches of Malibu,
where Jonathan lives, and shopping on Rodeo Drive hold fast in her mind. Her
memories don’t include Jonathan’s many relapses and broken promises. Once an
addict, always an addict.
    We
have the Jonathan discussion every other day and sometimes twice a day. She
misses him, and that burns me more than hot coffee spilled onto my legs. I have
the scars to prove it.
    While
we eat breakfast, my mind pores over Jinx. Jonathan can wait. Lord knows he
kept me waiting a thousand times at school, at my friend Clive’s house, at the
hospital with a broken arm from skateboarding off the roof of a house. I was
supposed to land in the pool. Jonathan’s list of forgetfulness is endless.
    My
mind travels back to more important matters. Jinx threw me out. Why did I tell
her it was no big deal? That was stupid. And she was scared of me. I would
never hurt a girl.
    “What’s
eating you?” Currie finishes her yogurt and places the bowl in the dishwasher.
At her request, I bought all stainless steel appliances so that the kitchen
appeals to her tastes.
    “There’s
this girl. She called me a pig.”
    Currie
laughs. The light, pleasant sound makes me smile. She inherited it from Mom. “Why?”
    “She
caught me with my pants down.” Though Currie’s a muffin, she’s my closest friend,
and it’s not like she hasn’t seen everything living in this house.
    She
laughs again. “Justified.”
    “True,
but it bothers me.”
    Currie
slaps her forehead. “It’s finally happened. You’ve grown a conscience.”
    “I
wouldn’t go that far. She threw me out of her party,” I say, though guilt
needles me for defiling her dad’s shrine. God, I’m a dumbass.
    “No,”
she says sarcastically while stretching out the ‘n’. “It was deserved. You’re
such a ho.”
    “Why
are you with me then?”
    “I
have low standards. Tell her you’re sorry.”
    “What
good will that do?”
    “It
doesn’t hurt to try.”
    Harry
scoots over to the kitchen door where Zoe enters from the opened garage. “Hey,
Harry.” She pats his scruffy head. He doesn’t hump her leg. It’s only me and
Jonathan.
    Zoe
rummages through the pantry. Her shoulders slump. “No Cocoa Puffs, Lucky
Charms?”
    Dried,
sweet cereal makes me nauseous. I lived off it until I was eight and Zoe’s mom
showed me how to fend for myself and invited me over for meals.
    “No
good food,” Zoe says. “No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend. You can’t be
trained.”
    “I
have my two girls. That’s plenty.”
    “You
need a real girlfriend.” She takes an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter
and bites into it. “All this health food is going to make me sick.”
    Currie
makes a sad face at Zoe’s words but quickly replaces it with a feigned grin. “We
need to hurry, or we’ll be late.”
    On
my way to get my backpack, I check to make sure Mom’s door is still closed. She
never gets out of bed until noon. One of the many reasons I’ve taken care of
Currie since the divorce. Well, actually since the day she was born.
    I
secure my room and Currie’s. Mom’s boyfriends always take souvenirs, as Mom
puts it. They’re not allowed to collect from us