Page 57 of Alonzo

Fuck. “Listen, Tara—”

“No, you listen! You have been lying to me! This whole time. Two years! I don’t want to talk to you! This wasn’t my idea. I had no clue that Belinda knew you!”

“Who the fuck is Belinda?”

But Tara doesn’t hear me because she’s still talking. “I came here because I wanted answers. But you know what? It was a stupid idea and—”

“Hey!” I say loudly. “Hold the fuck up. OK? I can explain. And why didn’t you call me back? I was going out of my mind with worry about you!”

“—I’m sorry I came here. I’m not going to stay. Vann and I are probably gonna head back right now—”

I look at her dude friend, who is called Vann, I guess. “What?”

He shrugs with his hands. “I’m not really sure what’s going on.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You were sure ten seconds ago.”

But then Jesse is next to me, whispering in my ear. “OK. You got this, Lonz. Show her who’s boss.” Then he claps me on the shoulder and backs off, like those words explain everything.

I’m just about to boss the fuck out of Tara and tell her to come with me so we can talk when the screen door bangs open.

“Alonzo?” And there’s my mother. I forgot where I was for a second. “Who’s this? Do you know this girl?”

I can’t boss a girl in front of my mother. She’d freak the fuck out and boss me back. Probably take Tara into the house and lock me out.

I walk straight to the back door of the truck, yank it open, grab Tara’s hand, and pull her out.

“What are you doing?” She fights me, pulling her hand from my grip.

“Come with me, please.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere with you! You’re a fucking liar!”

“Language, young lady!”

I look over my shoulder at my mother. “Will you butt out of this?” Then I lean down into Tara’s ear. “Just… come with me. We’re not having this conversation in front of my parents’ house.”

“We’re not having a conversation at all. You lied to me, Lonnie!”

My mother clicks her tongue and chuckles. “Lonnie. I like that nickname.”

“Mom! Will you just go back inside, for fuck’s sake? Tara. You are not leaving here without talking to me. Understand?”

“You’re not in charge of me, Lonnie. We’re done, OK? This whole thing is crazy. I don’t even understand what’s happening. All I know is that three days ago my life was fine and now everything’s upside down. I just want to go home.”

“Uh, Tara,” the Vann guy says. “We can’t really go home yet.”

“What’s that mean?” I ask her.

“Just forget it. Belinda, I’m glad you found your way home. I really am. But I can’t process all the lies that are unraveling right now. And yours are a part of that.”

“I didn’t lie any more than you did!” Rosie exclaims. “You’re not some morally superior truth-teller, Tara. Which, by the way, isn’t even your real name!”

I have no idea what that means, but Tara is becoming more and more agitated. She’s looking down the length of the street like she might try to make a run for it. And that’s when I notice she’s not wearing her pencil skirt. No tight white blouse. No fashion boots and severe bun. In fact, she doesn’t look anything like the girl I’ve been talking to online. She’s wearing baggy jeans and a too-big t-shirt that has a skull across the front and the words Sick Boyz Ink rolling around it in a circle.

She notices me looking at her. “What?”

“What are you wearing?”