Ruby Unscripted by Cindy Martinusen Coloma

Frankie, just as he predicted.
    â€œSo you’re going to show Ruby around?”
    â€œYep, it sounded like she needs to get out. And I promise to drive your daughter carefully, and I promise, really promise, that I won’t kiss her.”
    That shocks me, but Mom chuckles. “It’s nice to know she’s safe then.” She keeps laughing quietly as she follows us toward the door.
    â€œEw, kissing, gross!” I hear from Mac upstairs, and I want to slink away to my room.
    But nothing fazes Frankie.
    â€œSorry about my brother,” I say after the friendly good-byes and Mom’s invitation for Frankie to come to dinner sometime—when Austin is cooking, she says with a laugh.
    â€œCute kid. Now ready to see some of Marin?”
    We drive the hilly streets up one side of the mountain to the other where the rough Pacific waters beat against the cliffs.
    Frankie chain-smokes but doesn’t offer me one. He drives with the window cracked and holds a cigarette like someone from a movie, cool and casual-like. It almost makes me want to start smoking. He finally parks at a place that overlooks the water, with the sunset faded into the water and nearly turned to darkness. And for some reason, I tell him about little Tony Arnold in the Christmas program with me and now dead from a drug overdose.
    We get out and walk barefoot on the beach, and Frankie strips down to his boxers and goes running to the water. I laugh as he jumps the waves and finally goes diving in. That water is freezing! But as I watch Frankie swim alone in the ocean, a sense of contented solitude surrounds me. A sense of knowing that this is the time and place for me.
    It’s not Frankie in particular or the rhythm of waves or the bright moon coming up behind us as the last light disappears out across the ocean. There are plenty of troubles in this new life. But a gentle strength reminds me that I’m going forward in life’s pathway, and nothing in the world needs to stop me now.

chapter eleven
    I don’t have to wander the lunch periods alone anymore, like the first day when I bought a sandwich and then moved from place to place as if I had somewhere to go. If anyone had actually been watching me, I’d have appeared pretty ridiculous.
    Today is the second day Frankie has lunch with me, but this time he brings me to his table of friends. Before moving to Marin, people like Bart, Axner, and Janice might have freaked me out a little with their tattoos and piercings. Bart is the size of a small giant and wears all black and black eyeliner. Axner is short and stares at me intensely, then smiles widely and shakes my hand. Janice gives me a cool nod of welcome, then rests her head back on Bart’s shoulder. Another guy and girl arrive at the table.
    â€œThis is Redden. My gay brother, but not my gay lover,” Frankie says in a singsong voice, and they high-five.
    â€œNice to meet you,” I say awkwardly, not sure how to respond to Frankie’s flamboyance sometimes. Is the guy really his brother, or just called that ’cause he’s gay too?
    â€œSo, Frankie, this is your experiment into conservative Americana,” says a girl who just arrived. She’s a hard and cold mix of beautiful.
    â€œThis is Blair. Blair, be nice to my Ruby.”
    â€œIt won’t be easy,” Blair says and gives me a long condescending look that moves up and down my body.
    Blair continues to make rude comments and references to me throughout lunch. I wonder what she has against me, and decide to ask Frankie later. And just as I now have one friend, I get the idea that I now have an enemy too.

    Aunt Jenna picks me up from school, and we go straight to the Underground. I write Kate on my way to the coffeehouse, but she doesn’t answer.
    My twelve-hour day last week (was it only last week?) and working yesterday provide a comfortable familiarity. I’ve learned the espresso recipes and even get a few