‘I keep having these dreams,’ Evan says. ‘I’m living in my old tree fort, in our backyard. Then one day, I try to go back into the house and the door’s locked. My key doesn’t work either, so I ring the doorbell, and when the door opens, Darth Vader’s standing there saying he’s moved in and my parents have moved out, leaving no forwarding address.’
Dieter slides to the edge of his seat, eager to analyze, but he lets us take a first crack at it. ‘Does anyone have ideas about what Evan’s dream might mean?’
Kali gives it a shot. ‘You’re worried about your parents moving on with their lives. Last week, you said your dad is moving to San Antonio and your mom has a new boyfriend.’
Evan nods. ‘So you’re saying Mom’s new guy is Darth?’ He cups a hand to his mouth and breathes like Darth Vader. ‘Shhhhh … Evan. Shhhh. I am your stepfather.’
We all laugh, and Dieter lets us get it out of our system before saying, ‘Anyone have anything to add?’
I raise my hand. ‘Maybe these dreams are telling you that you’re afraid of being left behind by your parents – abandoned.’
‘But what does Darth Vader mean?’ Evan asks.
‘That you’re obsessed with Star Wars?’ Syd says.
Dieter gives her the avatar stare before weighing in. ‘At our first session I said you’d need to focus on moving on with your lives. Evan, let’s talk about what steps you’ve been taking to do that.’
Evan stares at his hands and twists a leather bracelet around his wrist. ‘I’m not, I guess. I’m in a rut.’
‘It’s natural to want to cling to the familiar,’ Dieter says.
‘And it sucks when our parents are the ones changing,’ Kali says, taking her lip gloss out of her pocket to slick on a fresh coat. ‘They should have it all figured out by now.’
‘Parents are only human,’ Dieter says.
‘Maybe, but this is supposed to be our time,’ Syd says.
Lauren taps Evan on the knee to get his attention. ‘You need to do your own thing and forget about your parents for a while. Try something new.’
‘Do something completely outside your comfort zone,’ I suggest. ‘Trust me, it will make you feel great – like you’re ready to take on the world.’
‘Like what?’ Evan says.
‘Like get a dirt tattoo,’ Simon says, pointing to my arm where the faded henna can still be seen at the edge of my T-shirt. ‘That’s living on the edge.’
‘I bet I’ve pushed more boundaries than you have,’ I tell Simon.
‘This isn’t a competition,’ Dieter says. ‘But you’re absolutely right. Getting out of your comfort zones is a great idea. That’s why I recently started to run a team-building ropes course. It’s mostly for my Family Therapy group, but I’d like all of you to take it next session.’
‘Ropes?’ I say. ‘If it involves hanging from them, forget it. I don’t do heights.’
‘It’s completely safe,’ Dieter says. ‘And the more nervous you are, the more you get out of it.’
‘I don’t know,’ Lauren says, getting out her compact. ‘It sounds messy.’
‘It can be,’ Dieter says, packing up his briefcase and heading for the door. ‘Still, rain or shine, attendance is mandatory.’
‘Wait,’ Simon calls after him. ‘Can I tell you about my recurring dream? It involves two cheerleaders.’
‘No,’ Dieter says, without slowing down.
‘You didn’t get a chance to mention your nightmares about Eric,’ Kali says.
‘I think they’re done,’ I say. ‘The last one was right after the Maternity Ward party, and it featured Eric getting pecked to death by a flock of wild parrots.’
‘That’s not a nightmare,’ Syd says. ‘That’s a beautiful dream.’
We walk out of the church together and find Trey waiting for Lauren at the bottom of the steps. Unfortunately, he’s not alone. The blond giant at his side looks up at me and says, ‘Olivia?’
It’s Andrew, the guy Syd and I scammed at Trey’s touch football team. This is definitely going to be awkward.
‘Don’t you remember me from the football game?’ he says. ‘You—’
‘Hey, babe,’ Lauren interrupts, pushing past us and racing down the stairs to clutch Trey’s arm.
Andrew’s face is a study in confusion as he processes the incoming information. ‘But you were – Do you already know Lauren?’
Trey explains to his friend that Syd and I were doing Lauren a favor by trailing him for a weekend. Better yet, he gallantly takes the blame by admitting he hadn’t been honest with Lauren about his diving. ‘You know how girls look out for each other,’ he says. ‘So, Andrew, meet Zahra and Syd.’
We join them on the path and introduce Kali.
‘Sorry I couldn’t be honest with you,’ I say.
‘It’s OK,’ Andrew says. ‘I like a girl who can BS a little – as long as it’s for a good cause.’
Lauren kisses Trey’s cheek and says, ‘A very good cause.’
Andrew smiles at me and says, ‘Then how about using the phone number I gave you?’
Syd opens our meeting in the trailer by bringing up the one case that doesn’t pay. ‘Word in the weight room is that Fletch likes to play dirty. Really dirty.’
Stains is surprisingly well-connected, and to thank him for his undercover work, we’ve given him free movie passes and DVDs from our stash.
‘It’s not just that Fletcher’s brutal with the opposition,’ Syd continues. ‘There are rumors that he’s taking out the competition within his own team.’
Apparently, the Maroons’ previous noseguards dropped like flies until Fletcher landed the position. The first guy got kicked off the team because Coach found steroids in his locker. Same thing with the next guy, only this time it was booze. Then Fletcher’s immediate predecessor missed three games because of an illness that mysteriously struck on game days. In fact, the only three guys who’ve been kicked off the team in the past year have all been noseguards. Now that Fletcher’s in place, the turnover has ceased.
‘That can’t be a coincidence,’ Kali says, handing me the packing tape so I can finish wrapping up a DVD player, which is ready to be shipped to the highest eBay bidder. ‘But how can we prove anything?’
‘We can’t,’ Syd says. ‘All we can do is watch and wait.’
College scouts are scheduled to attend some upcoming Maroons games, and Stains predicts Fletcher will strike again. Although the scouts focus on the seniors, they also check out the up-and-comers, and Fletcher will want as much field time as possible.
‘The Maroons have a couple of strong defense players,’ Syd says. ‘It’s entirely possible that Fletch will sideline one or two of them before the big games.’
‘All we have to do is catch him in the act,’ Kali says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.
‘And once we have evidence he’s been screwing over his teammates, they’ll slam him for us,’ Syd says.
‘Score!’ Kali says. ‘I love it when a plan comes together.’
I think I just missed the actual plan, but I’m sure my genius partners will put more meat on the bones soon.
In the meantime, I have more pressing concerns. ‘Snack time,’ I say, pulling a container out of my bag.
‘Have mercy,’ Syd moans.
I’ve continued to test recipes for René’s healthy eating promo, which he’s decided to run during Christmas season. Despite the extra time to prepare, my results have been dismal. It’s like I lost my baking mojo, and I blame Love, Inc. for that. Baking is such a precise craft. If you don’t add exactly the right amount of each ingredient, you ruin the result. It’s black and white. But the more jobs I do for Love, Inc., the more I learn that life isn’t black and white. It’s more like Syd’s graffiti – a canvas of wild colors. That idea seems to have spilt over into the kitchen. I used to stick to the essential rules of baking, but lately, I’ve traded in my measuring cups for a more organic approach. If I add something sweet, I offset it with spice. If I add something wet, I balance it with something dry. No measuring. No rules. And while that approach works in our business, it’s wreaked havoc on my baking. In the end, I had to take it back to basics.
‘Come on,’ I say. ‘These are different: apple-maple crunch squares.’
‘Let Fletcher use them in his campaign of death,’ Syd says, waving them away.
Even Kali protests as I serve her a square. ‘Do I have to, Z? To be honest, low-fat isn’t your calling.’
‘I’ve cracked it this time, I promise,’ I say. ‘If you taste these, I’ll bake caramel brownies for our next meeting.’
Kali takes a tiny bite, chews slowly, and swallows. Finally, the verdict: ‘By George, I think she’s done it.’
‘You’d better not be bluffing,’ Syd says, taking an even tinier bite of a square. After a moment, she polishes off the rest of it. ‘OK, these are keepers.’
It’s a relief to hear. I’ve been worried because Love, Inc.’s growing popularity hasn’t left me with much downtime to experiment. Even with our referral policy, it’s getting harder to keep up with the demand for our services. We all know we should turn down some requests, but we can never agree on which ones. The cases that look quick and dirty often take more time than we expected, and that means the lines are becoming blurred on who does what.
One thing we do agree on is that we like the money. Kali has enough for a decent guitar and private lessons. Syd is starting to fill the hole her dad made in her college fund. And my Sweet Tooth start-up account is growing nicely. Money makes us all feel like we have control over our lives. The more we have, the less we’ll need our parents.
But money isn’t the whole story. I know I’m not the only one who feels the buzz that comes from working together to help people. Plus, it’s the first time I’ve excelled at something outside the kitchen.
The only downside is the pressure not to disappoint a single client. It’s a lot of responsibility, when I still have to work, keep my grades up, and visit Mom’s regularly. I can’t risk setting off any alarms.
Kali and Syd are spread equally thin. This week something had to give and we decided it was Dieter’s ropes course.
‘He won’t call our parents,’ Kali says. ‘Dieter’s all talk. He’s always lecturing us to take responsibility and move on with our lives. That’s exactly what we’re doing, even without his stupid exercises.’
‘It isn’t even a regular session,’ Syd says. ‘And I’ve got to admit I’m glad I won’t have to talk about how my mom broke her wrist falling off Dwayne’s horse.’
Kali and I try not to laugh, but Syd’s grin is permission.
‘Then she dumped Dwayne because he didn’t sit holding her good hand for six hours in Emergency,’ she says. ‘And guess who had to pick up the slack? If that’s not taking responsibility, I don’t know what is.’
‘My mom’s still dating that Xavier guy,’ I say. ‘And Dad’s out more than ever. We think he’s seeing someone at work.’
‘D-I-V-O-R-C-E,’ Kali sings, and picks up her guitar. ‘May-king parents cra-a-zy.’
Syd bends over to pat Banksy. ‘Come on, boy, that’s our cue to leave.’ Banksy barely stirs, and Syd’s brow creases with worry. ‘He’s a little under the weather. Maybe he ate something nasty in the park this morning.’
‘Why don’t you leave him to rest while you meet your client?’ I ask. ‘I’m going to do my homework here before meeting mine in a couple of hours.’
Syd hesitates. She rarely goes anywhere without Banksy. ‘Well, OK. But call me if he barfs or anything.’
‘Definitely.’ I’m glad she trusts me enough to look after him.
Syd plants a kiss on Banksy’s head and sets off.
Once Syd clears the trailer, Kali tells me about her newest crush, a guy she met at a Clean Water rally. ‘He’s way cuter than the goof from my guitar class, and we obviously share the same values. He was hanging with some people I know, so I should be able to get his number. And unlike some people, I won’t be afraid to use it.’
It’s a dig at me for not calling Andrew yet. I’ll admit, I’ve been thinking about it, but before I get involved with anyone new, I want to know he’s seriously interested. Andrew is flirty, which proves nothing. If he’s into me, let him track me down.
Kali’s phone starts to ring. ‘It’s Luke,’ she says, checking call display. ‘He’s reporting in on the wedding.’ Trish ended up the final winner, once Kali discovered that she’s a vegan and a leader in school recycling. ‘Hey, Luke, how fabulous was it?’
Kali’s grin fades fast as she listens to Luke talk … and talk … and talk. Sinking back on the bench, she stares straight ahead.
‘But Luke, I don’t understand,’ she says. ‘You and Trisha passed every test and you liked her when you met for coffee. Everything should have been perfect.’ He complains some more. ‘I know you’re upset, but please don’t call my matchmaking program a piece of crap. No questionnaire can predict that someone will get drunk at a wedding. Or flirt with the groom.’
I cringe, and Kali mouths, ‘It gets worse.’
‘She called the groom “Simon” and made a toast to his hot ass?’ Kali asks. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke. Simon’s her ex. She seemed ready to date again, but I guess the bubbly brought up old memories. But no real harm done, right? Why don’t I send some flowers to the happy couple and sign your name? Stop by the trailer next week and I can look through my roster for someone new—’
She stares at her phone incredulously. ‘He hung up! No wonder he can’t get a girlfriend. He’s a frickin’ drama queen. His parents are mad that his date got tipsy, and he acts like I poured the champagne down her throat. Poor thing probably didn’t have anything to eat, either. There aren’t many vegan options at a traditional Italian wedding.’
‘Well, you can’t win ‘em all,’ I say.
‘I still say Trisha’s a good match for Luke,’ she says, reaching into the cupboard. She pulls out a big white envelope that holds their questionnaires. ‘This came down to booze and bad timing. The worst of it is that Brody will rub my nose in it unless I can match Luke up again fast.’
‘Kali, maybe you’d better let this one go.’
She shakes her head stubbornly. ‘My reputation is at stake.’
Sighing, I reach for my ringing phone. ‘It’s Riaz,’ I say, checking the display before letting the call go straight to voice mail.
‘I thought Riaz was out of the picture,’ Kali says, tossing the envelope onto the table and giving me her full attention.
He was, until Saliyah dragged me to a Bollywood action movie last night and we ran into him at the theater. It probably wasn’t a coincidence, either. There was a definite whiff of Nani about it. Riaz’s apology sounded scripted.
‘Maybe you’re being a little—’
‘Do not say “harsh,”’ I interrupt. I’ve heard that word enough from her brother. ‘I might have been more receptive if Riaz had called right after the meat drive. Instead, he waited till we ran into each other.’
I check my voice mail to find Riaz suggesting we hang out over the weekend. As if a half-assed apology fixes everything. ‘We’re done,’ I say. Thanks to all that I’ve learnt from Eric and Love, Inc., I have much higher standards now.
‘Just as well,’ Kali replies, strumming. ‘Nothing rhymes with Riaz.’
A few minutes later, Kali packs her guitar in its case and gathers her things. She has another lesson in half an hour.
Banksy raises his head as Kali puts on her coat. ‘Do you think he has to go out?’ she asks.
Thumping his tail, he clambers to his feet.
‘Syd wants him to rest,’ I say.
‘Don’t worry,’ Kali says, hooking Banksy up to his leash. ‘We used to have a dog, and a walk always seemed to perk her up. I’ll take him with me to my lesson. My teacher won’t mind, because she has a dog, too.’
My phone rings again, and Kali slips out with Banksy while I answer it. It’s my six o’clock appointment canceling. That leaves me free to head over to Mom’s to work on my Social Studies assignment. We have to write about an event in the life of one of our grandparents. Nani offered to help, but I’ve been stalling because I know she’ll use this opportunity to push some propaganda about culture, community, and religion, not to mention the benefits of marrying within the tribe.
I’m texting Syd and Kali about my change of plans when the trailer door swings open. It’s Brody, and he’s inside before he notices me.
‘What are you doing here?’ he says, frowning. ‘You guys have Crazy Class.’
There’s a giggle behind him, and someone repeats, ‘Crazy Class?’
Brody steps aside to let the girl enter the trailer. She’s almost as tall as he is, with long limbs and fine features. Her strawberry blond hair is cropped into a boyish cut that frames bright blue eyes. In her skinny jeans and bulky brown sweater, she looks like she popped out of an Interview magazine spread.
‘Hi, I’m Juliette,’ she says, holding out her hand. ‘As in Romeo-and.’
As opposed to Einstein-and, I suppose. I notice her other hand has landed on Brody’s hip, and he acts like that’s exactly where it should be. Obviously he’s been using our office to make out with girls. It’s just so … tacky.
‘I’m Zahra,’ I say.
Juliette slides a limp hand into mine, and it’s gone before I can clasp it. ‘Cool name,’ she says as I squeeze a fistful of air.
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘Cool sweater.’
‘Enough bonding,’ Brody says, throwing his schoolbooks on the table. ‘Take a seat, Juliette. Zahra was just leaving.’
He can’t kick me out of this trailer even if I was just leaving. His mom might own it, but it’s also his sister’s place of business – a business that’s put dollars in his pocket to spend on this Juliette.
‘I’m in no hurry,’ I say, ignoring Brody’s glare and sitting across from Juliette.
‘Hey, I’ve heard of Love, Inc.,’ Juliette says, picking up one of Kali’s questionnaires, which has our company logo in the top right corner. I designed it on the computer using Syd’s graffiti tag for inspiration. It’s a tiny heart pierced with a lightning bolt on one side and rays of sun on the other.
Reaching for the questionnaire, I tell her that I’m just a client. Although our business is growing, we don’t advertise, and we still try hard to keep the revenge service under wraps.
‘Well, you’re going to love them,’ she says. ‘My sister’s exbest-friend’s cousin hired Love, Inc. to help her figure out if her ice-dancing partner is gay. Turns out he isn’t, and now they’re totally in love.’
Even though the details aren’t quite right, it’s nice to hear about a satisfied customer. Especially in front of Brody.
‘I’ve heard mixed reviews about this Love, Inc.,’ Brody says. ‘For every minor success there’s a massive screwup. They really burnt one of my best friends.’
‘What happened?’ Juliette asks, staring at him with eyes the color of my Eid festival tunic. Her hair is pretty, too, if you like red, which I don’t. I suppose I can see why Brody would sacrifice substance for surface. It’s a shame he’s not more like Angel.
Brody takes my coat off the hook by the door and tosses it at me. ‘It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it when Zahra leaves.’
‘Save your breath,’ I say. ‘Love, Inc. doesn’t need your negativity.’
Sitting down beside Juliette, Brody gives me the back of his head. ‘So here’s what I heard … Some crazy girls started this so-called business after getting burnt by a guy, and now it’s all they have. None of them can even get a boyfriend. They just sit around telling other people how to solve their problems without taking their own advice. All in all, they’re kind of pathetic.’
I yank my notebooks out from under the pile of stuff Brody’s strewn across the table, and grab the envelope of questionnaires. Giving Juliette another air handshake, I say, ‘I wouldn’t write off Love, Inc. based on Brody’s opinion. They’ve got a great track record.’
I make a point of closing the trailer door gently, because I know Brody is hoping for a slam. In the end, though, he’s the victor because his words are echoing in my head as I walk to the bus stop.
I am not crazy or pathetic, and Eric Skinner is not the end of my story. Maybe I’ve been sitting on the sidelines sulking for a bit, but I’m as capable of a normal relationship as Brody Esposito is. More capable. I can do better than Juliette. I will find substance and surface. In a city as big as Austin, there must be a cute, honorable guy who shares enough of my interests. I will see if Kali can help me find him. That would be the best victory of all against a hater like Brody.
By the time the bus arrives, I’ve decided not to tackle my Social Studies project with Nani. For that, I need to be on my toes. Instead, I’ll go to Dad’s, where I can think about the compatibility profile Kali will have to put together for me. To get a head start, I pull out the envelope with Trish and Luke’s questionnaires.
Instead, I find a stack of photos in the envelope. The first is of a football player spiking the ball past the goal line. His teammates are rushing into the picture from the right edge of the frame, forever frozen in this moment of triumph. The next shot is of a basketball player mid-leap, followed by several photos of soccer players chasing the ball.
I’m not a sports fan, but these images are vivid and captivating. It’s strange that Syd’s never mentioned an interest in photography, especially when art is one subject she’s actually willing to talk about until your ears bleed.
Unless, of course, these aren’t Syd’s pictures.