The Lunacy Fringe

For the rest of the week, I hung out with Quinn and his friends at school. I didn’t have a single class without at least one of them, making it easy to get acclimated. Billie asked for my phone number after Quinn “spilled the beans” (her words) and then called me that night as I was going through boxes of clothes in my closet. She told me she was sorry for bugging me, but she didn’t have many girl friends, and Amy didn’t count because she was baked 80% of the time.

After school on Friday, Aaron came up to me as I was waiting outside for Quinn. He was supposed to give me a ride so my dad wouldn’t have to come get us. Billie had already left for the bus, so I stood alone until he approached.

“Hey, you coming to my brother’s party tomorrow?” he asked. I’d completely forgotten about it. Quinn mentioned it once or twice, but I didn’t think Aaron would really care if I went since he barely knew me.

“Sure, if you want me to. Quinn’s going, right?” I replied.

“Yeah, he should be.”

“Then I probably will. I’ll be at his house tomorrow anyway.”

“Alright, cool. I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye.”

I watched him walk away and balanced my heavy books in my arms. I didn’t need nearly as many when I lived in Detroit, so I never bothered to get a bag that wasn’t actually a purse. Though my dad kept suggesting it. I’d have to take him up on that offer.

I was still standing there looking for him when an arm wrapped around my shoulder.

“He likes you,” a voice said.

“No, he doesn’t,” I replied, shooting a glare at Quinn.

“He has a thing for redheads. Always has. Said he wants to carry on the ginger gene.”

“I’m not a ginger. My hair isn’t really red.”

“Doesn’t matter. But whatever. It doesn’t bother me. Just gotta watch out for you, you know?”

“You don’t have to watch out for me.”

“So I’m giving you a ride home, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that sucks because I left my car at home.”

“Why the hell did you do that? I told him not to pick me up because I thought you were driving.”

“I didn’t even think about it this morning. I rode the bus so I could hang out with someone.”

“Who?”

“I’m not telling you that,” he said. Then he let me go and strode across the lawn.

“You’re a jerk.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“So we’re walking then?”

“Appears that way.”

I followed him onto the sidewalk, and we headed toward my house. It wasn’t too far from school, but it was a long enough walk that I’d rather do anything else in the warm California sun. My dad had been giving me rides home every afternoon, but I was supposed to start walking on Monday since he had a job. Unless I could find a way to convince Quinn to go out of his way to get me every day. At least with Quinn, I could figure out the route without getting lost. I guessed he walked to Felix’s house enough to know the way. He brought it up when we reached my street twenty minutes later.

“So, does Felix ever talk to you?” he asked when we passed Felix’s house with the nice gardens and avocado trees.

“No, he seems kind of quiet,” I remarked.

“He’s really not.”

“Well, maybe he just doesn’t like me then.”

“Yeah, I doubt that.”

Once we reached the jasmine fence, he let me go first. I hopped up the steps to let him in.

“Dad?!”

“Out back!” I heard his voice respond.

“C’mon.”

I led Quinn through the kitchen and out the back door. My dad was sitting on the back porch. I watched him pick up a stick, throw it across the yard, and then a ball of pure white fluff chased it.

“Oh my god!” I shrieked. The puppy forgot all about the stick and circled back around to me. I dropped my books in a plop to go greet it. It bounced around my feet a few times before I reached down to scoop it up. It was a little snowball with black eyes and a goofy face, and it was so excited to be giving me kisses. I could have cried.

“Yard looked lonely,” my dad said. “We always had dogs when I lived here. Of course, they were mostly to guard the grove, but this house doesn’t feel the same without a dog.” I couldn’t stop grinning. I’d wanted a dog for years. I’d had one growing up that was my best friend until he chased a cat into the street and got hit by a car. It took me three years to get over it. And then my dad said he wouldn’t get me another dog until he was sure I’d moved on.

Quinn was standing behind him, and my dad didn’t seem to notice him yet. So I motioned toward him, and he turned.

“Dad, Quinn.”

Since they were talking, I decided to give them privacy. So I took the puppy across the yard to the bushes where the frogs lived. And then spent the next few minutes trying to get her back out.