If I Tell

or mock me. He just nodded.
    “In high school, my mom was the blond princess, and my dad was the football star. A total cliché except that he was black. Back then it mattered even more than it does now. My mom, the rebel. Anyhow, they didn’t go out for very long before she got pregnant. Grandpa told me my dad, I mean the Sperminator, didn’t want her to have the baby. Me.”
    Grandpa had never sugarcoated his words. He was a strong believer in truth. He tried to make up for the fact that my father had never wanted me born by loving me more, but he’d always told me the truth about my birth.
    “My father’s family moved away before I was born. They didn’t want to ruin the Sperminator’s chance at playing college football. They never contacted me. They pretend I don’t exist. I’ve never spoken with any of them.”
    Jackson nodded and glanced at me. I didn’t see pity in his eyes before his gaze went back to the road. It was something else. And because he wasn’t feeling sorry for me and because I was filled with liquor, I kept talking.
    “My grandparents raised me. My mom lived with us too, but we were more like sisters. Anyhow. We all did fine. I mean, my grandparents were great, but obviously they didn’t know anything about being black. I looked the part but didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Well, until Simon came along.”
    “Simon?” Jackson asked.
    I lowered my head, studying my shoes. “Simon has been my mom’s boyfriend for about five years. He’s black. We used to be kind of close.”
    “Used to be?”
    I ripped off the skin from my hangnail with my teeth and it hurt, but in a different way than the pain inside me.
    “It changed. My mom is pregnant, and Simon…” I thought about Lacey. An image of her kissing Simon flashed in my mind. Her arms wrapped around his. His mouth all over hers. I leaned my head back against the seat. “It’s nothing.” I closed my eyes tight to chase away the image. “We don’t get along anymore.”
    “Did something happen? With you and Simon?”
    “Oh, my God, no!” My eyes flew open, and I shivered.
    “Sorry,” he said softly. “You just looked really…freaked.”
    “It was nothing like that. Never mind. It was just…a stupid fight,” I lied. “It doesn’t matter.” I turned my head and stared at the blackness outside. There were a few cars on the street, and the streetlights shone bright, but it seemed like most of the population of Tadita was home in bed.
    “Okay.” Jackson didn’t sound convinced, but he reached for his radio dial and turned up the volume. “You’re the boss,” he said. “More rock. Less talk.”
    He flipped channels until a Neil Diamond song blasted over the speakers. “A classic.” Jackson whistled along with the melody for a minute and then belted out the chorus, his voice surprisingly good. “Sweet Caroline,” he sang.
    “Dun dun dun.” I couldn’t resist adding that and then giggled.
    Jackson glanced sideways. “You making fun of my voice?” he asked in mock anger.
    “No.” I signaled at the radio. “My grandpa loved this song. I mean, I love it too,” I admitted.
    “You know this is some hokey-ass music. But wait, didn’t I hear you playing Neil Diamond when you were busking?”
    “I wasn’t busking.” A smile curled my lip up.
    Jackson made a sound that could have been a laugh. “That’s what you claim.” He turned the volume down so we could hear each other better. “I think you should seriously quit busking and join a band. Although finding a band that plays Neil Diamond may be tough.” He smiled. “You take lessons?”
    I glanced down at my lap. “No. My grandpa taught me. He died. My grandpa, I mean. He was the greatest guitar player I knew.”
    I looked up and Jackson nodded, his eyes still on the road. He pulled the car to a stop at a stop sign. “I think it’s cool. That you carry your guitar around and jam when the mood strikes you. Like at school and at the park.”
    “Most people think it’s weird. Think I’m weird.”
    “Yeah. Well, I’m not most people.”
    “Apparently not.” I glanced at the four-way stop. There were no cars, but he didn’t pull forward yet. “I can’t believe you like Neil Diamond,” I said.
    “I can’t believe you like him.” He grinned. “Like I said, people really aren’t always what they seem, right?”
    True enough.
    Jackson reached over and touched my hand for a second and then pulled back. “You know, I’m still