“I don’t think David’s coming out,” Mickey said.
“You may be right,” I said. “What the hell is going on with him?”
“He got with that Ooh girl, and now he thinks he’s the shit,” Mickey said. He was only looking at me when he said it, but I could feel Arno next to me. He was right there and then a second later, it was like ppphht. He’d deflated.
“He did it to get back at me,” Arno said. “No wonder he hasn’t bothered to confront me. He’s playing a complex psychological game with my feelings.”
“Um,” Mickey said. “I think maybe that wasn’t totally nice of me to say out loud, but when I saw those two together, I didn’t think they were thinking about your feelings at all.”
“I wish your cousin would go home,” Arno said. “I can’t stand having her around and I love her so much.”
“If there was a person exchange somewhere, and we could go there and trade Kelli for Patch,” I said, “believe me, I’d do it.”
I looked around and there were twenty people or so milling around the velvet rope, and since they had nothing better to do, they were staring at us. Because, as far as I was concerned, we were younger and cooler than they were.
“Let’s just go. I don’t know what he’s up to but it’s been half an hour,” Mickey said.
So we began to walk east. I think we all knew one thing, which was that we had absolutely no clue where Patch was. Then I heard this sniffling noise next to me. I looked over and Arno was crying. Crying? Arno? I threw my arm around him.
“Dude, I’m going home. I think we should call the cops,” Arno said through his tears.
“Stop it,” I said. I mean, it was one thing for David to cry, but for Arno—that was too much. “Get a grip!”
“We’re not calling anybody yet,” Mickey said. “We’ve got about thirty hours. And I’m going to find him. I’ve got some hunches.”
I looked over at Arno. Mickey was barely allowed back in school and he was still swinging around his cast. Maybe he did have some hunches. But I couldn’t imagine what they were.
“Well, I need to go to sleep,” Arno said. I checked my watch. It was about three in the morning. I yawned.
“You’ve hit bottom,” I said to Arno. “I promise things won’t get any worse for you.”
“Thanks,” Arno said, and it sounded like he meant it.
We walked over to Fifth Avenue and just sort of stood there. Some cabs went by and I knew I should probably shovel Arno into one and call it quits myself. We’d find Patch tomorrow, for sure. There were people’s houses we hadn’t checked, kids at boarding school we hadn’t called, ice cream parlors we hadn’t visited.
Then a big black Chevy SUV drove by really slowly. Mickey saw it and before Arno or I could say anything, he jumped on the fender.
“I’m going to go home to get my Vespa and tool around,” Mickey yelled.
“Is that a good idea?” I asked as we watched him disappear around the corner. His goggles were on and his jumpsuit was rolled up at the wrists and ankles. He curled himself around his cast and he looked as if he were going to take off like some kind of superhero.
“Well, that takes care of him,” I said. “Let’s get you home.”
“I’m sorry about what I’ve been doing,” Arno said.
“It’s cool,” I said. “I’m sure you’ll do something that will make everyone like you again.”
“Really?” Arno looked up at me. His black hair was sticking out in all directions and his eyes were dried out and puffy. But he was still a really good-looking guy. Anyone could see that. I really didn’t believe he’d meant to do as much harm as he had.
“Well, if you don’t think of anything, I’ll make up something nice for you to do,” I said.
“Thanks.”
Arno was still sniffling when I packed him in the back of a cab and said goodnight to him. He said something I couldn’t understand to the driver, who immediately smiled and began to chatter.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Farsi,” Arno said. “Kinda neat, huh? I learned it from David. I really hope we can still be friends.”