My stomach drops as my nightmare becomes reality. No. I’m overreacting. I can simply say no. “Er … um … well?” As I say these words, an idea pops in my head: If I help her rehearse, I’ll figure out how she got the Horatio part. It’s a keep-your-enemies-closer kind of thing. “Yes?” I say, ask, whatever.
“Is that a question?” Monica asks.
“Definitely a yes of the question kind,” Cole says. “Which in conclusion is a no.”
I blink and clear my throat. “It’s a yes.”
He shoots me a stare.
I shrug. “I’d invite you to tag along, but you’re working this afternoon.” This isn’t a question, and I hope it’s true.
He crosses his arms. “Meal preparation for grumpy customers starts in two hours.”
Monica adjusts her backpack. “Hey, guys, I don’t want to create a problem.”
Raising a finger at her, I ask, “Can you give us a minute?”
“Sure.”
I take Cole by the elbow out of earshot. “Don’t you see what’s going on?”
He swats a hand at me. “You want premium time with my girl.”
“Your girl?” I scoff. “Dude, that’s your imagination going wild.”
He taps his temples. “My imagination is fine, thank you very much.”
“That’s not the point, Cole,” I say. “I want to figure out if she’s a good actor.”
“Actress.” He frowns. “An actor of the female kind.”
I shake my head. “That’s sexist—it’s actor.”
His frown deepens. “So now we’re going to call chicks dudes, horses unicorns, and green pills red pills?”
Taking a breath, I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not stealing your love interest, Cole.”
He stares at me.
I throw my hands in the air. “I promise.”
His eyes light up. “I tell you what, Mr. Kiev Jimenez. You get me a date with the hot Latina, and I’ll call this a tie.”
I look over his shoulder at Monica, who’s half-playing with her phone, half-looking at us.
“What if I can’t get you the date?” I ask.
“At least I can say you tried.” He offers me his hand. “Deal?”
I shake it. “I promise no miracle.”
The three of us leave the school and split up to our different cars. I pull up Google Maps and enter the address Monica gave me before we went our separate ways—the app says it’ll take fifteen minutes. “Here goes nothing,” I mumble to myself, turning on the ignition.
As I drive under the scorching sun, I have second thoughts about this situation. Yeah, I need to know my enemy, but on the other hand, what am I trying to accomplish here? I mean, I should, I don’t know, find out her weak points, and then … what?
I stop at a red light. No cars by my side, and nothing anywhere. Sometimes I think I live in a ghost town. I wait for a tumbleweed to cross the road—it doesn’t. The light turns green.
This has been a so-so day. No, who am I fooling? It’s been a very bad day that’s about to turn into a nightmare of a day. Bad not only because Monica got Horatio’s part, but also with the cap incident with Lia. One of these days, I’m gonna ask Lia why she’s so hostile to me. I haven’t done anything wrong—not that I can tell. Maybe I’m just being dense.
The minutes pass by fast, until I enter Monica’s subdivision. Big homes with mile-long front yards line the street. Up ahead, I spot Monica getting out of her BMW. I park next to her and jump out.
“Big house.” I state the obvious.
“Such a waste of space.” She sighs and picks up her backpack. “C’mon.” She heads to the door.
My head is stuck in “such a waste of space” as I follow her
She looks at a silver panel next to the door until there’s a click and the door swings open.
I motion at the panel. “Um, what’s that?”
“Retinal scan.” She shrugs. “One of Mami’s company’s products.”
“Sounds like science fiction to me.” I peer inside—minimalistic, very white décor. “So, how did you end up in this small town?” Really, if her mom is in high-tech, why not live in the Silicon Valley or something?
“She loves the quiet and solitude of West Texas.” Monica enters the house and heads to the right. “My bedroom is upstairs.”
She leads me up, her waist-length hair and perfect rounded butt swinging about—the girl owns quite the physique. No wonder Cole’s gone love-crazy. When we reach the second floor, I stare at the multitude of doors.
“This way.” She jerks a thumb to her right, walks that way, and opens a door to a fairytale of a room. Meaning, canopy bed, shelves with books and stuffed animals lining the walls, a window bay, and a huge desk.
Once inside, she trudges to her bed and sits on the edge.
I stay by the door, still admiring the décor. “My dad is also in high-tech.”
“Cool.” She slides off her backpack and digs out a booklet. “Script.”
“Right.” I walk toward her and take out my phone. “I prefer digital.”
“You’re weird, Kiev.”
I lift a brow.
“You don’t have any social media accounts, yet you use a phone to read the script?”
I shrug. “Does that make me abnormal?”
“No, silly.” She taps the bed. “Sit with me.”
Not sure I want to be so close to her. “It’s so silent here. Where’s everyone else?”
“Mami’s in her office downstairs, thinking about the next biometric wonder.”
“Just you and her?” As I ask, her words, “such a waste of space,” take on another dimension.
“Yep.”
I want to ask her if she’s got other siblings or where her dad is. Instead, I say, “Nice.” So deep.
She taps the bed again. “Come here, silly. No te voy a seducir.” The last sentence in Spanish, “I won’t seduce you,” sounds the opposite. Or maybe I’m just dreaming.
I need to clear things up. “Cole wants to go out on a date with you.”
She winces for a second.
“That bad?” I slump my shoulders.
“Don’t get me wrong.” She sets her script on her lap. “He’s sweet and kind.”
I cross my arms. “Not the kind of bird that flies over your nest?”
“It’s just…” She bites her lower lip. “He’s too infantile, you know?”
As much as I want to say she’s wrong, she’s right. Cole has some serious maturing issues. “All teen boys are infantile.”
Monica stands, script falling to the carpet. “You aren’t.”
“I am.” I take a step back.
She takes a step ahead. “Really?” Another step.
“A-re you trying to seduce me?” I show her my palms.
“Of course not.” She puts her hands on her hips. “I want to know why my getting Horatio’s part has made you so upset.”
“Ho-how did you—”
“Cole told me all about it.”
“Cole?” I echo. “Cole.” I’m gonna kick the shit out of him—the bastard.
Monica giggles. “It’s fine.”
“I have to go.” I turn to leave—can’t take this anymore.
She grips my arm. “Kiev, wait.”
I face her.
“I have something to confess—the reason why I invited you to my house.” She does the lip-biting act again.
I don’t dare say a word.
“Kiev?” She grips my other arm and shakes me. “Say something.”
I inhale deeply and exhale. “Could you let go?”
“If you listen to me first.” She locks her eyes on mine.
I consider this for a second. “Fine.”
She clears her throat. “After Cole told me how bad you wanted Horatio’s part, I felt bad.”
“How’s that?” I doubt she felt that way.
Monica lets my shoulders go and sits on her bed. “You better be sitting.”
This t
ime, I slide next to her. “Is it that bad?”
She nods, forcing a smile. “It’s about Horatio’s pre-audition.”
“Pre-audition?” I echo, feeling as if in an episode of a TV horror show.
“That’s how Mr. Butrow called it.” She sets her hands on her lap. “Ten of us showed up. I was the only girl.”
The number of candidates confirms why the teacher called a special audition for Horatio. “Why did you audition for a male part?”
“Why not?” She pats my knee twice.
“You’re right.” I pat her knee in return, as in atta girl.
She sucks in a breath. “After talking to your friend, I felt bad.”
“What did Cole say this time?” I ask, hoping he didn’t say something stupid.
“It’s not about him. It’s about you.” She shakes her head. “He told me how bad you wanted Horatio’s part.”
Cole and his big mouth. I shrug. “No big deal.”
“He made it sound like a big deal.” She smiles. “I have an idea, let’s switch parts.”
“What?” I think I heard wrong.
She points at me. “You’ll play my part.” She points at herself. “I’ll play yours.”
Although I’m dying to play Horatio’s character, this sounds wrong. “Why give up Horatio?”
She shrugs. “It’s no big deal for me. You want that part more than me.”
My brain swirls with thoughts until I make a decision. “Okay. But I have one condition.”
She inclines her head. “Yes?”
I can’t believe what I’m about to say. “Go out on a date with Cole.”
Chapter Six
Lia + Punch
“I’m going to murder you, Lia,” Barnabas mumbles. A frown perches on his face when I walk out into the hallway after fourth period.
“Can I choose the way? I think I’ll go with a guillotine.” I perform a hand chopping motion, specifically for his benefit.
With a shake of the head, his frown switches to a smile. “Seriously, Lia! You have to do something about Sophie.”
A loud snort escapes me. “So, you did get my text from earlier. I was waiting for your reply.”
“You should have been there in second—”
“Hey, Barney,” Sophie interrupts. I whip my head to face her as she strolls up to turn our duo into a trio.
Barnabas lets out a string of silent curses, and I slide a hand down my face in annoyance.
“What was that?” Sophie smiles.
“Oh, I said, you can call me Barnabas, not Barney.” He puts on a plastic smile. She’ll probably take it as him being into her.
Sophie cocks her doll-eyed head to the side. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Barnabas.” She gives him a flirtatious smile, and I inwardly cringe, while he outwardly cringes. “So, where are we sitting for lunch today?”
Oh no. “We’re going to sit in our usual spot. You know, by the soda machines where no one else sits. It’s just us seated on the ground … alone.” I try to make it sound like it’s a place where she wouldn’t want to be—but by her facial expression she gives me—it doesn’t help.
“That’s swell, I’ll meet you guys there. I’m going to let my friends know I won’t be sitting with them today. And, I can go ahead and work on my homework early.” With an extra bounce in her step, Sophie walks off. She glances over her shoulder one last time. “See you in a little bit, Barney. I mean, Barnabas.” She giggles and strolls away.
Quickly, I turn to Barnabas. “Swell?”
“What the hell?”
“You need to let her down. Now.”
“I thought you did. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. During second period, she kicked the girl Lydia out of her seat to sit beside me. The whole damn period, all I could see from my peripheral vision was her fondling me with her eyes. The only thing I could think about were those drawn-on eyebrows. Save me, Lia.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders.
I shove him off. “Save yourself.”
As we walk toward the soda machines, I tell Barnabas about the incident that occurred in first period with Kiev and Cole. He thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world, so I elbow him in the ribs, which makes him convulse harder with laughter.
Somehow though, when we make it to the soda machines, Sophie is already there—basket of fries in one hand, and a Diet Coke in the other.
“Hey, guys, I saved you a seat.” She waves us over. I stare at the whole empty floor area and shift my eyes to Barnabas, who has magically disappeared to the soda machine.
Giving her a nod, I pull out a dollar bill from my back pocket and head over to Barnabas. “What do you think you’re doing?” I ask.
“Getting a soda,” he says, not looking at me.
“Maybe I should go to the girl’s restroom for the rest of lunch to give you two more alone time?” I threaten and waggle my eyebrows at him.
He lightly hits his forehead against the soda machine, before grabbing his Sprite. “I’ll just have to tell her like it is.” He sighs.
Barnabas walks back toward Sophie, who looks to already be working on her homework. She may sometimes come across as not all there, but she’s actually really smart. I listen with my gamer’s ear as I pay for my soda.
“Look, uh, Sophie,” he starts, “you’re a really nice girl and all. But, I’m not looking for anyone right now.”
“Oh, I know! Lia already told me about the harp stuff. We can wait until after that,” she chirps.
“I mean, I’m not looking for anyone, like ever. I prefer the life of solitude.”
I turn around, so I can spy Sophie’s reaction. At least she doesn’t look sad like I thought she would. Instead, she’s smiling. “I know exactly what you mean. We can be friends for now, and when we’re both ready, then we’ll be ready.”
Barnabas visibly closes his eyes, and I stroll up to change the subject. It doesn’t look like Sophie will be going away anytime soon. “So, Barnabas, are you ready for the pie contest?” I ask.
He gives me a silent thank you for swooping in to take him out of the awkward moment.
The rest of the school day creeps by slower than a slug’s pace, and I head out of last period to meet up with Barnabas to catch a ride home.
Taking a quick stop by my locker, I toss two of my books in and slam the door shut. When I make it to the hallway that leads me to the exit I need to take, there’s a group of three people blocking my entrance.
Two of the three people, I wish would disappear, which are, you guessed it, Kiev and Cole—a.k.a. the douchebags. There’s a girl they’re both talking to who is very curvy, wearing an overly tight shirt and pants that she manages to pull off. Her dark hair reaches her waist, and she flips it over her shoulder as she talks. It’s Monica, who’s in my math class. I have yet to talk to her and probably won’t—nothing against her, though.
She’s all gazing at Kiev’s perfect asshole-face while he keeps shifting his eyes to the side at Cole. Cole, being the secret pervert I know he is, keeps sneaking in glances at her boobs and other assets. I’m sure by next week Kiev will be hooking up with Monica, and Cole will still be checking her out.
I’m not going to stand here all day watching the weird love triangle scene like it’s some sort of movie. Marching up toward the group, I say haughtily, “Excuse me.”
All six eyeballs turn to stare at me, and still no one moves. Cole elbows Kiev several times in the arm, Kiev’s face turns about as red as it did in first period, and Monica shoots me an eyebrow.
Sorry, Monica, my shirt too baggy for you? I silently think.
“Can I pass through?” I ask, since no one wants to move out of the way.
“Yeah, no problem,” Kiev says and yanks Cole out of the way.
Monica slides a foot back, and I pass by without another word.
“Have a good evening, Miss Ophelia Abbie,” Cole calls down the hallway. Halting in my tracks, I close my eyes tight to calm myself. St
epping forward again, I don’t turn back.
The first time Kiev made me angry was in eleventh grade when Mrs. Howard called on me in Geography class. “What’s the capital of Estonia, Lia?” she asked me. My eyes jerked to hers, and I just sat there.
“Tallinn,” Kiev answered and smiled at me. I frowned at him in return.
“Excellent job, Kiev.”
Couldn’t she have at least given me a country that someone actually knew?
The second time was this year in Mr. Walker’s class.
“What are the powers of each branch of government, Miss Abbie?” Mr. Walker asked me.
I wanted to tell him, how the hell should I know? But, I just sat there like a moron. Then Kiev finally piped in and broke it down branch by perfect branch.
Couldn’t Mr. Walker have just asked me what the three branches of government are?
Barnabas is already standing at the end of the hallway, fiddling around with his phone. His eyes shift to mine when I approach. “Finally.”
Hiking a thumb behind me, I point down the hall. “Sorry, I got held up by a trio of animals—two pigs and a swan.”
He looks down the hallway. “I don’t see anyone.”
Shaking my head, I sigh. “Never mind.”
We walk into the muggy parking lot, and I take hold of the front of my shirt, flapping it back and forth to cool myself off.
“Dinner at my place today?” Barnabas asks.
“As long as there’s rice, I’m down.”
“You know there will be rice.”
Mrs. Lao cooks rice pretty much every single day. She orders a pizza—she cooks rice with it. She picks up McDonalds—you better make room for the rice. If I could bathe in her rice every day, I would—it’s that good!
When we get to Barnabas’s apartment, Mrs. Lao already has dinner ready—yes, incredibly early, because his two younger sisters can’t hold their horses when it comes to waiting for food. Mr. Lao usually has to heat up his food when he gets home from work, or he just eats at their restaurant.
“Barnabas! Barnabas! Barnabas!” four-year-old Channery shouts, with her fists in the air when we walk through the door.
“Barnabas!” three-year-old Dara howls, literally down on all fours gazing up at the ceiling like a wolf.
Bacon Pie Page 5
