Teaser. Burt Weissbourd

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СКАЧАТЬ I skipped flute yesterday, and today I cut Spanish. My mom was totally pissed when I missed flute.”

      “Why did you skip flute?”

      “I was getting it on with Aaron.” Maisie touched the gold ring in her eyebrow. “We met this really cool girl. She’s got a place near Broadway, and she lets us come over.”

      He waited before asking, evenly. “Does your mother know why you missed flute?”

      “I think she picks up on it. It’s like she can smell sex. She can’t be exactly satisfied in that department. I mean Verlaine wouldn’t even know if he got her off. Un-unh.” Maisie raised her palms—she knew that much. When Abe didn’t say anything, she leaned her forearms on his desk then rested her chin on them. “I saw Billy today. Why don’t you call him Will? I think Will’s better than Billy, don’t you?”

      “That’s up to him.”

      “I wish you were my dad.”

      Abe didn’t respond.

      “I mean Will’s so together, and I’m so, I dunno, what’s the opposite of together? Apart?”

      “Does Billy—”

      “Will. Hey, does he know you see me?”

      “Not from me.”

      “Does anyone know, except us, and the dot com deadheads?” And solemnly, before he could ask, “Devoted fans of the Grateful Dead.”

      When Abe still looked confused, she added, “Duh—the Microsofties—my so-called parents, okay?”

      “I haven’t told anyone.”

      “What about your wife?”

      “No, she doesn’t know.”

      “Our secret, huh?”

      “Until you say otherwise.”

      “Cool.” She sat back in the brown leather chair. “Now, can we talk about something personal?”

      “Sure.” Abe waited, watching her drum her fingers on the arm of the chair. He liked Maisie, liked her quickness, her directness, liked how she was more and more open with him. He could help her, he thought, if they could learn to rely on one another. As far as he could tell, she didn’t have this with any adult.

      The drumming stopped. “I tried some cocaine,” she volunteered. “Afterward, we got it on, the three of us.”

      Why, he wondered, is she being so provocative?

      “And?”

      “Is that crazy or what?” Maisie closed her eyes.

      “I don’t know. Here, with me, you often say something shocking, then measure my response. Did you expect something terrible to happen?”

      “Won’t it?”

      “Not necessarily.” Abe waited until he had her full attention; this was important. “The drugs worry me, though.”

      “When I’m stoned I sometimes do things in my mind. But this was different. I really wanted to try it. Do something just really hot.” She found his eyes. “I mean so hot just thinking about it would get me going. In class, at the dinner table, anytime.”

      He watched as she folded her legs up under her in the big leather chair. Abe thought Maisie seemed more edgy than excited. She closed her eyes again, unaware that her face was flushed. He understood her desire for intensity. He hoped he could help her find it in less worrisome ways. And without drugs. “What did Aaron have to say about it?” he asked.

      “He got off on it, I can tell you that.” She opened her eyes, smiled at him coyly.

      Abe ignored it. “Did you talk with him about it?”

      “I told Aaron it would help me see if I’m bisexual. I knew I might be. I mean I got really excited in the tenth grade when I was into pregaming—”

      “Pregaming?” Abe furrowed his brow, a question.

      “That’s when you make out with another girl before going to a party.” Maisie pursed her lips, touched them with her fingertip. “You know—like warming up.”

      Abe sat back. “I’ve never heard of that.”

      She smiled again. “Does it freak you out?”

      “No, I don’t think so. But the drugs do worry me. I’d like you to stay clear of them. Can you do that?”

      She made a face. “Even weed?”

      “Yes.”

      “I’m addicted to grass.”

      “I don’t think you are.”

      “What about cigarettes?”

      “They’re okay, for now.”

      “And if I can’t?”

      “I know a good program. You’ll have to live there until you clean up.”

      Her mood shifted, Abe could see it change her face. She laughed. “No way.” When he didn’t respond, Maisie squinted, tense, then snapped, “No fucking way.”

      She was keyed up now, almost speeding. Abe waited until she wound back down, wondering if her desire for sexual intensity was related to managing her own mercurial feelings. “Maisie, you’re sixteen. This is important.”

      “I just changed my mind about you being my dad.”

      “Try staying clean until I see you again.”

      “Whatever.” She stood.

      “Listen to me, Maisie. I think I can help you figure out what you want—not what your parents or your teachers think you want—what you really want. And then we can figure out how to get it.” He let that sink in. “It’s difficult work, and drugs make it much harder, if not impossible. I’d like you to stop taking drugs. That’s the one thing I’m asking you to do. I’m going to set up weekly lab screenings until you’re clean. Can I count on you to do that?”

      Maisie flipped him off as she left.

      “Excuse me, please,” Jason Weiss, Corey’s lawyer, said into the phone.

      “It’s family that’s dropped by.” Then he was up and at the door, smiling wide, taking Corey’s hand. Abe had asked Jason to represent Corey when she was in trouble almost eighteen months ago. Jason had helped her, earned her trust, and he and Corey had become friends.

      Jason Weiss was a sole practitioner. His practice of law flowed loudly, and effortlessly, from his large office in the Maritime Building. Two stacks of papers always sat on his desk: favors owed, favors СКАЧАТЬ