Page 31 of Winter
I’d be tempted to leave a candle burning, she thought darkly, then smiled. Belinda Clements was the least of her problems, and now all she wanted was to enjoy her evening with Tommaso. Despite her reluctance to see him that morning, his company had been just what she had needed.
Screw you, Belinda. You won’t spoil anything for me.
Sixth Grade, Willowbrook Junior High
Then
“Chink.”
Inca ignored her, far too busily immersed in Boo saving Scout and Jem. A drop of purple soda flicked onto the page in front of her.
“Hey. I called you, Chink.”
Inca pushed her glasses up her nose and glared at the ginger-haired girl in front of her. Belinda Clements was grinning nastily at her, her band of nervous-looking acolytes hanging back. They knew what was coming and clearly, Inca thought, it was going to be bad.
“As you well know, moron, I’m Indian, Japanese, andAmerican. What do you want, you little jerk?” She stood up and faced the girl.
Belinda’s gang skittered back, jabbering quietly among themselves. Inca Sardee was small, but she could launch herself with all the power of a cannonball on someone who riled her.
Belinda grinned. “Guess what my poppa told me? He said Tyler fucks your mommy with a zucchini, right in her Volvo.”
Inca rolled her eyes. This was nothing new. “It’svulva. And you’re an idiot.”
The girls behind Belinda giggled, then stepped back as Belinda rounded on them, eyes blazing. “Shut up!”
They shut up.
Inca grinned at her. “That all you got, lame ass?” She picked up her bag, shoved her book deep inside, and gave Belinda what she hoped was a withering look as she pushed past her. Belinda hooked a finger in the top of her T-shirt and jerked her back. Inca stumbled and the others laughed.
Belinda bent down to Inca’s ear and whispered, “Does Tyler fuckyouwith that zucchini, pigdog? Do you enjoy it?”
And Inca was on her, yelling, pounding her small fists into the girl’s face and body. The entire yard came running then, most of them shouting encouragement at Inca. After a minute or so, Inca felt herself being picked up and carried off by a teacher. She struggled, still incensed, trying to get back to Belinda, who was being helped to her feet amidst snickering from the other kids.
“Inca Sardee! Quit it! Quit it now!” The teacher, Mrs. Lindo, tried to contain the squirming child. Inca gave in but gave Belinda the finger as she was carted off to the principal’s office. She heard a bark of low laughter coming from behind her. She looked past the school gates to see a youth, no more than fifteen or so, grinning at her with cigarette in hand. The look on his face said he was impressed. She gavehimthe finger too, which only made him laugh harder.
The principal, Bill Porter, a squat African-American with a jolly face, said he was disappointed in her. He winced when Inca relayed in a dull voice exactly what Belinda had said to set her off. He sighed, but said that because of the provocation and her history—or ‘the unfortunate incident’—he was prepared to overlook the fightthis time.
Inca was used to people referring to the ‘unfortunate incident. Nancy and Tyler would never tell her what it was, and Inca had stopped asking. All she knew was—it got her out of most trouble.
“Make no mistake though, Inca, I cannot keep making exceptions for you. Next time it happens, I’ll suspend you. Take a good look at your behavior, young lady.”
Inca thanked him politely and walked out into the secretary’s office.
The school secretary was shooing a blonde woman in her thirties into the outer office. A girl of about seven, dressed impeccably in a princess costume, came skipping in. Inca returned her friendly smile then stopped as the boy from earlier rolled around the door jamb and grinned at her. Inca flushed, remembering she’d flipped him the bird. As she passed him, he chuckled again and she shot him a glare. She tried not to smile as his merry eyes twinkled at her, but failed. Behind her, she heard Mr. Porter greet the woman. She introduced herself and then pulled both her children to her side with an exasperated sigh.
“For God’s sake, behave. Mr. Porter, this is my daughter; you’ll be seeing her in a few years.”
Inca turned to leave the office just as Mr. Porter asked the boy his name. The boy winked at her.
“Hello,” he said with a face-splitting grin. “I’m Olly.”
Nancy was wavingthe paper at her angrily as Inca entered the teahouse the next morning. She’d hoped to get there before anyone and had walked into town wanting the fresh air.
Sleep had eluded her for the rest of the night and she’d given up trying after a while. She couldn’t get that call from Mindy out of her mind. Mindy had been so sure it had been Inca who had called the guys and abused them. Had she done it? No, of course not. But it bugged her why Belinda would want to start their feud up again after all this time. She needed something to distract her. Taking advantage of the apartment’s lack of neighbors, Inca cranked Pearl Jam up loud and cleaned the whole place until dawn broke over the town.
Now, though, confronted by an obviously annoyed Nancy, she wished she’d stayed home.
“Have you seen this crap?” Nancy shoved the paper at Inca, who glanced at it.
