Chapter Seven

Where r u? Really need u now!

The text enrages me to the point where I hurl my cell phone into my locker and slam the door. Yes, it’s one of my favorite possessions, but right now it feels like the phone’s on Eric’s side. But I have to answer him. It’s only Tuesday and the paint is still fresh on Miss Daisy. Our plan is to phase him out slowly so he’s never quite sure what happened or who to blame for the slam.

I open the locker, grab the phone, and quickly text, Sorry! Running 2 class now. Ltr. Then I hurl the phone back into the locker.

‘I see the anger management sessions aren’t doing much good,’ someone says. I turn and find Brody leaning against the wall, wearing the red and white uniform of the Travis Rebels basketball team. According to Kali, Brody transferred to Travis when she arrived at Austin High only because Travis has the better sports program.

‘It takes more than one session,’ I say. ‘Plus, you’re supposed to avoid all sources of aggravation. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m meeting your sister in the library.’

He shoves himself off the wall. ‘I’ll walk with you, Red. It’s not safe to set you loose on the student body in this condition.’

‘I’m fine,’ I say, scratching my neck where a hive is coming up. ‘Shouldn’t you be warming up in the gym? I heard the Maroons are going to slaughter you today.’

‘Angry and delusional too,’ he says, grinning. ‘Good thing you’re getting help.’

I walk faster, but Brody keeps pace. ‘So you really gave it to that phone. Boyfriend trouble?’

‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’ I suppose trashing Eric’s car makes that official, without the words actually being said.

‘Couple more weeks of anger management and you’ll be fending them off,’ he says.

It’ll be a lot longer than that before I even think about dating again. Like Saliyah says, guys suck.

A gorgeous cheerleader passes us, blatantly checking Brody out as she heads toward the gym. Without even bothering to say goodbye, he jogs down the hall after her.

In the library, I find Kali chatting with a lanky blond guy while Syd watches them from a table in the corner. Kali’s hand is on the guy’s arm and she’s staring up at him, all smiles. It’s astounding how quickly she’s getting back in the game. Since Sunday, she’s flirted outrageously with everyone from the drag queens to strangers on the bus. Even Stains and Rambo were on the receiving end of some eyelash batting yesterday, although they seemed more puzzled than entranced by it.

Giving Lanky Boy’s arm a last squeeze, Kali comes over and joins us.

‘Can we at least finish with one jerk before you line up the next?’ Syd says.

Kali shushes her and peers around for the librarian. ‘I was just recruiting the guy for the school’s eco-club.’ Her posture is great and her chin is high. For Kali, flirting seems to have magical healing properties.

I wish it were that simple for me. The adrenaline has drained steadily out of my system since we hammered Miss Daisy, and as it faded, waves of nausea returned, along with a melon-sized lump in my throat. When I’m alone, just one word echoes in my ears: stupid. I was stupid to miss the signs, stupid to trust Eric without asking more questions, stupid to build a whole fantasy about our future. Just stupid.

I expect Syd to look equally depressed, but her topaz eyes are sparkling. Taking her phone out of her backpack, she gestures for us to lean in, and says, ‘Girls, I bring you tidings of great joy.’ She cues up her voice mail. ‘Eric didn’t leave us with much, but we’ll have this play-by-play forever.’

 

‘Syd, it’s me – Eric. I just came around the Albany and found Miss Daisy. She’s trashed! Trashed! Oh my God, there’s a pink horse on the hood! You’ve got to come back and help me.’

 

‘Syd, me again. Where are you? The police are on their way. You should see Daisy … it’s tragic. Can you at least call me?’

 

‘Hey, me again. I’ve filed my police report and I’m waiting for a tow truck. Now it’s starting to rain! The good news is, Daisy still turns over. So don’t worry too much. Call me, OK?’

 

 ‘Hey, I’ve tried three garages but no one will take Daisy because she stinks. I took a look under the hood and almost puked. There are sick people out there.’

 

‘Good news! I found a mechanic who lost his sense of smell to cancer. He’s done triage on Daisy and the damage looks worse than it actually is. She’s going to be fine. Where are you? I know you’re upset, but this is Daisy. We can work our stuff out later. I need you right now.’

 

‘Hey, I left Daisy and took the bus home. Your mom asked me to stop calling your home line, so call me, OK? I need to talk to someone.’

 

‘Syd, it’s Monday and I still haven’t heard from you. I’m worried. Call my home number or e-mail, OK? I’ve gotta turn off my cell because I’m getting all these crank calls. People think Daisy’s for sale. For like, two hundred bucks. As if.’

 

‘Me again. I’m out with the guys, tearing down the For Sale signs. There must be hundreds because the calls won’t stop. It’s some kind of prank. Listen, this is going to sound crazy, but my mom said the paint job looks like the work of a pro. Do you know anyone who might have done it? Someone from the Maternity Ward, maybe? Is anyone that pissed off at me? I know you’re upset or you’d have called me back, but you’d never take it out on Daisy, right?’ 

 

‘Syd, forget I even said that. You know I love you and I know you’d never hurt Daisy. But if you have any clues, my mom wants to press charges.’  

 

We’re about to hang up when we notice there’s a new message. 

 

‘Syd, something really weird happened last night. I had a run-in with these … ladies. There’s a story about it on page six in the Chronicle, so you’ll probably see it. The guys on the team are calling me Powder Puff, but it’ll all blow over. I’d really like to talk to you.’

 

Syd is out of her seat in a flash and digging through the pile of papers the librarian keeps at the counter. She comes back with The Austin Chronicle. The daily ‘Keep Austin Weird’ column features a color photo of Eric in his basketball gear standing next to Miss Daisy. Two drag queens perch on the hood, on either side of the unicorn. The story underneath reads:

ONE HELL OF A RIDE

 

Eric Skinner’s proudest possession used to be his well-maintained powder-blue Shelby Charger. But everything changed on Sunday when he came out of a café near the old Albany Hotel to find that the car had been vandalized.

It doesn’t appear to be a chance hit. Sure, the tires were flat, but how many vandals can paint like that?

Factor in the fish guts, and this mystery reeks of revenge.

Lady Luck, a performer at the Cockpit, approached Skinner to make an offer on the car after seeing one of the for Sale signs that were posted all over austin. ‘This is a love story gone wrong,’ says Ms. luck. ‘i can feel it in my bones.’

Mr Skinner insists it’s a random act of cruelty. ‘no one i know would do this,’ he says. ‘everyone understands what this car means to me.’

The car is running again, and Mr Skinner has no intention of parting with ‘Miss daisy’ anytime soon. But he does hope someone will come forward with information about the crime. ‘it’s going to cost me at least two grand for the paint job and fumigation,’ he says. ‘Someone should pay for this.’

But don’t call the number from the posters. it’s no longer in service.

‘Two grand for the love of his life? Boo-friggin’-hoo,’ Syd says.

Kali stares at the article, beaming. ‘It just doesn’t get better than this, does it?’

‘I’d frame it if I could,’ I say. ‘But do you think we should be worried? Lady Luck saw us putting up the posters.’

Syd shakes her head. ‘She’s obviously decided to keep her mouth shut.’

I sit up straight in my chair, feeling like a wilted plant that’s just been watered. The adrenaline is back, and I feel much smarter. I helped to plan and execute that slam!

Still, it bothers me that Eric left nine voice mails for Syd, and only two for me. Sure, he’s texted a lot, but the real measure of a girl’s worth is in phone calls.

Kali is clearly making the same calculation. ‘He’s only called me once,’ she says. ‘Plus seven texts.’

‘Two calls for me, and five texts,’ I say. ‘I’ve followed the plan – short, casual, and friendly replies. How long do we have to keep this up?’

‘Another week and Kali drops out of sight,’ Syd says. ‘Two weeks for you, Zahra, and three weeks for me. I actually left him a voice mail when I knew he was in his guitar lesson and couldn’t pick up. Just some basic condolences over poor Daisy. I’ll try that again in a few days and slowly wean him off all contact. Hopefully that’ll be enough to keep him from stopping by.’

The very thought of him dropping in at the store makes my heart drop, but I’ll brief René and he’ll help me deal.

Kali nods. ‘If Eric follows his usual pattern, he should be lining up our replacements right now anyway.’

Kali and Syd and I meet outside of Bennu Coffee to load up on caffeine before group. Today marks the one week anniversary of our finding out about Eric, and we all look a little worse for wear. It turns out revenge isn’t a gift that keeps on giving. I’d hoped to hold on to that feeling for a lot longer than a week.

Syd’s wearing a ratty old fedora over unwashed hair, and a wrinkled shirt straight out of the clothes hamper. I’m not much better, with a few stray hives on my chest and my hair in a bulky braid. Kali, on the other hand, is perky, in her trademark green T-shirt and designer army pants. Someone’s fresh off a good flirt.

‘This is on me,’ she says, heading into the coffee shop. Syd and I wait outside with Banksy and a cardboard box full of dishes and cutlery that Kali collected to replace the eco-threats she stole from the church kitchen.

‘What’s taking her so long?’ Syd asks, a few minutes later. ‘Don’t tell me she’s flirting.’

‘She is,’ I say, peering through the window. ‘Rule number one: never let Kali get the coffee if there’s a cute server.’

Syd groans. ‘How can she even think about other guys after what happened? I am never – repeat, never – going out with a guy again.’

‘That makes two of us,’ I say.

When Kali finally joins us with the coffee, Syd unties Banksy and marches off.

‘What’s her problem?’ Kali asks. She sets her coffee on the ground and picks up the box, but then she can’t carry the coffee. ‘What’d I do?’

I pick up her coffee and follow Syd, with Kali trailing behind in her high-heeled boots.

‘For starters, you didn’t put sugar in my coffee,’ Syd shouts over her shoulder.

‘It wasn’t organic.’

‘Plus, you’ve made us late for group.’

‘Like you care if you’re on time. You’re just taking it out on me because you’re pissed off about Eric. I was a victim too, you know.’

‘You have a funny way of showing it,’ Syd says.

Kali is mystified. ‘What’s she talking about?’

‘The flirting,’ I clarify.

‘We already covered this,’ Kali says. ‘You sulk, I go for the distraction.’ She picks up the pace, ceramic mugs clinking in the box. ‘I’m not going to sit around pining for a cheater. You’ve got to get right back on the horse.’

‘Not me,’ I say, catching up to Syd. ‘I’m steering clear of the barn right now. I don’t like the smell.’

Kali has to jog a little to keep up. When she pulls alongside Syd, I notice there’s a paper napkin sticking out of the front pocket of her jeans with a phone number scrawled on it. ‘I could find nice guys for both of you.’

‘So now you’re a matchmaker?’ Syd asks.

‘A pretty good one, as a matter of fact. I’ve set up a lot of people and no one’s complained.’

Syd snorts into her coffee. ‘Please. Like you could find a guy for me.’

‘Hello,’ Kali says, rolling her eyes. ‘I think I know your type.’

‘She’s got you there, Syd,’ I say. ‘Eric was her type too. And mine.’

Syd shakes her head at the impossibility of it all. ‘You two have seriously bad taste,’ she says, cracking a smile at last. ‘No wonder you’re in therapy.’

Dieter claps his hands sharply three times as we slink into the room. ‘This isn’t a cocktail party, ladies.’ He’s wearing another black outfit, only this combo is pinstriped. ‘We do not show up fashionably late for group.’

‘Sorry, Dieter, it was my fault,’ Kali says. ‘I—’

‘No excuses,’ he says. ‘Just get here on time.’ He picks up his clipboard and makes a note. ‘Simon, please continue. For the benefit of our tardy friends, you were discussing your parents’ views on your current relationships.’

‘Yeah,’ Simon says, tipping his chair back. ‘My parents have no business commenting on my relationship when they’ve screwed up their own.’

‘You have a girlfriend?’ Kali asks, not bothering to feign surprise.

‘Two, actually,’ Lauren says, pulling a compact mirror and a comb out of a Coach bag that’s worth more than the Recipe Box pays me in a month. ‘The cheater.’

‘It’s not cheating,’ Simon says, pulling a loose thread from the sleeve of his ancient leather jacket. ‘It’s just an overlap.’

‘An overlap?’ Kali asks. ‘You’re seeing someone new when you already have a girlfriend?’

‘Correct.’ Lauren says. She back combs the crown of her hair, secures it with a rhinestone-encrusted butterfly clip, and holds up the mirror again to admire herself.

‘Then he’s cheating,’ Kali confirms.

Simon pushes back the brim of his baseball cap and defends himself. ‘We’re only hanging out. It’s not like I’m—

‘—tapping it?’ Evan jumps in. ‘Or are you?’

Dieter deems this a one-clap offense. ‘Boundaries, boys.’

‘Look,’ Simon says, slouching in his chair. ‘I don’t feel the same way about my girl as I used to, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings. She’s into me.’

Lauren drops her mirror back into her purse and shakes an index finger at him. ‘You’ve been together a year.’

‘But I don’t feel like we’re connecting anymore,’ Simon says. Feeling the heat from this discussion, he finally removes his jacket, revealing a surprisingly nice polo shirt. I wonder if he bought it on his shopping spree with Lauren.

‘How would she know that if you don’t tell her?’ I ask.

He shrugs. ‘I’m not around that much. She should figure it out.’

The guys share one of those ‘Duh’ looks, and a match flares in the pit of my stomach. ‘Excuse me? If she doesn’t get it, explain it. Sure, it hurts to get dumped, but it hurts a lot more to get played.’

‘In other words,’ Sydney says, ‘man up and do the right thing.’

Simon bristles. ‘What would you know about—’

Syd cuts him off with a few Dieter-like claps. ‘I know exactly what it’s like to be on the receiving end of the crap you’re pulling, and I can tell you that it wrecks people. They start to doubt themselves. They do crazy things.’

‘Like what?’ Simon asks.

‘They cheat too, just to prove they can,’ Syd says. ‘Or they try to reinvent themselves because they think they need to be different and exciting, although it never works to pretend you’re something you’re not.’ The words are tumbling out of her lips. ‘They get miserable and take it out on other people until—’

Syd stops talking as suddenly as she started. She leans down to pat Banksy, and her hair falls over her face.

‘Thank you for sharing, Sydney,’ Dieter says. ‘It’s good to hear you open up.’

Syd’s back stiffens. ‘I wasn’t talking about myself.’

‘It’s true for anyone,’ I say. ‘When someone you love isn’t who he says he was, you doubt yourself and everything else you believed in.’

Lauren nods. ‘The one who got cheated on always pays the price.’

‘Not always,’ Kali replies. ‘Sometimes innocent victims get even. If I were you, Simon, I’d watch my back.’

And your car, I add silently.

The last thing we expect as we step out of the church is to find Eric at the bottom of the front stairs. Judging by his expression, the last thing he expected was to find the three of us together.

He turns, as if to bolt, but Banksy jerks the leash out of Syd’s hand and races down the stairs. The dog stands up against Eric’s chest, then scrapes his tongue across Eric’s four-day-old stubble. If I had any lingering desire to kiss Eric again, that image cured me.

Standing between us, Kali links arms with Syd and me, and we walk halfway down the stairs. ‘What do you want?’ she asks.

Eric pushes Banksy off and holds on to his leash. ‘Uh, I came to see you, Syd. Your mom said you’d be here.’

‘She didn’t.’ Syd is outraged.

‘Just to get me off her back,’ Eric says. ‘Because you wouldn’t return my calls. She said you volunteer here on Thursdays.’

I notice he keeps his eyes on Syd, as if Kali and I don’t even exist. His face is flushed under the stubble.

‘Do you have anything to say?’ Syd asks.

Eric shakes his head and croaks, ‘Not now.’

‘Great,’ Syd says. ‘Then screw off.’

We march down the rest of the stairs, and Syd holds out her hand for the leash. Eric keeps it, staring at her. You can almost see the last three months flashing before his eyes, every lie, every misplaced kiss. He looks exhausted from the triple-dealing. Finally he says, ‘For what it’s worth, I thought we were over.’

‘That’s a pile of crap,’ Syd says. ‘No one said, “We’re over.” So we were not over, and you know it. You cheated and you don’t even have the guts to admit it.’

Eric swallows hard and makes his next big mistake. ‘You didn’t have to take it out on Daisy.’

It’s like fire to gunpowder. ‘Are you kidding me?’ Syd pulls her arm out of Kali’s and points to us. ‘Seriously, Eric. Are you kidding?’

Anyone except this arrogant idiot would run for cover at this point. ‘Look, it was no big deal, Syd. It was nothing.’

‘Nothing?’ Kali says, infuriated. ‘We are not nothing.’ She pulls the pack of stale Gauloises out of her purse and hurls it at Eric, followed by a plastic lighter. They hit his shoulder and land on the pavement. ‘You’re a liar and a cheat – and that’s less than nothing.’

Eric continues to look only at Syd. ‘I mean nothing happened.’

‘Look at them,’ Syd says. ‘Tell them nothing happened.’

‘We were just hanging out,’ he says, cutting his eyes in our general direction. ‘They took it the wrong way.’

‘You’re hopeless,’ Syd says, grabbing for Banksy’s leash. ‘Don’t call, don’t write, get out of our lives. You … reek.’

He holds the leash behind his back. ‘You trashed my car.’

‘Give me my dog.’

‘My mom—’

‘Has no proof. Give. Me. My. Dog.’

‘Not till you—’

A clap cuts him off. ‘Everything all right out here?’ Dieter asks. ‘Girls?’

‘Fine,’ Syd says, as Eric hands her the leash. ‘Never better.’

We cross the street to a little park and collapse onto a picnic table, Syd on top and Kali and I on the benches. It’s a long time before anyone speaks.

‘That was brutal,’ I say, keeping my eyes closed against the late-day sun. ‘Did we really go out with him? Tell me it never happened.’

‘We’re going to try to forget it ever did,’ Kali says. ‘Dieter’s got his work cut out for him.’

‘Well, at least we don’t have to worry about phasing him out,’ I say. ‘How’re you doing, Syd?’ I lift my head for a moment. Her heavy breathing has slowed to normal, but she’s clutching Banksy’s leash for dear life, while the dog lolls in the grass.

‘I’m OK.’ After another silence, her voice drifts down from above. ‘I guess I’m partly to blame for what happened. When I asked for space, Eric said all the right things, but I could tell he was hurt. I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it, and he never brought it up. Instead, he replaced me.’

‘That makes me the rebound girl,’ I say. It hurts to know I was never more than that to the guy I believed could be my soul mate.

‘Look on the bright side, Syd,’ Kali says. ‘Eric must have had it bad if he needed two of us to get over you.’

Syd pushes herself up on one elbow and looks down at us. ‘Listen, I’m sorry for all this.’

‘No one made him cheat,’ I say.

Syd settles back on the table and grumbles, ‘I just wish we hadn’t gone so easy on his car. I know a guy who does explosives.’

‘We made our point,’ I say. ‘He didn’t drive today, and I still smelt fish.’

‘He probably has an air freshener stuck in his jeans,’ Kali says.

Someone laughs, and we open our eyes and sit up. Lauren is standing beside the picnic table. ‘I overheard your fight with that guy. And I’m guessing there’s a connection to that article in the Chronicle about the unicorn car.’

Syd sighs. ‘Are you going to rat us out?’

‘No.’ Lauren sets her Coach bag on the table, digs out a checkbook, and says, ‘I want to hire you.’

‘For what?’ I ask.

‘To find out what’s going on with Trey. I think he’s cheating, and if he is, I want you to take him down just like you took down that unicorn car guy.’

‘But we’re not in the revenge business,’ I say as Lauren fills out the check. ‘We were settling a personal score.’

Lauren rips the check out of the book and slaps it on the table in front of us. ‘Are you sure?’

Kali leans forward. ‘Are those two zeros?’

‘Preceded by a four,’ Lauren confirms.

The three of us hesitate before coming to our senses.

‘We can’t,’ Kali says.

‘We can’t,’ Syd says, although it comes out sounding more like a question.

‘We can’t,’ I confirm, handing Lauren the check back. ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’