Love Inc.

by Yvonne Collins

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ I say, reaching for the doorknob with my free hand.

  ‘I was just being nice because I heard your boyfriend’s not calling,’ he says, grinning as he comes over and takes a glass from my tray. He downs the smoothie in a few gulps.

  ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’

  ‘Why not? I hear he’s a good kisser.’

  Brody takes a second glass and chugs half of that one, too. ‘Looking this good takes fuel.’ Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he adds, ‘Much better than your gut-grenade muffins.’

  ‘Those were a work in progress.’

  ‘Keep working,’ he says. ‘And do you mind if I give you another piece of advice?’

  ‘Actually, I do. Especially when it relates to a conversation you had no business hearing.’

  ‘Your crazy music and giggling hurt my brain,’ he says. ‘I had to investigate what all the noise was about.’ He hops up to sit on the counter. ‘Anyway, here’s my take on your situation. That whole “He’d better drag his butt to a phone or else” philosophy is just harsh. And harsh girls never get the “totally hot” guy.’

  ‘I am not harsh!’ If anything, I am too nice with guys. That’s how I ended up as a doormat.

  ‘Listen to yourself – voice like a rake on metal.’

  I take a deep breath to ensure that what comes out next is melodic. ‘Thank you so much for your advice, Brody.’ I open the door and step out. ‘Enjoy your smoothies. The three of us can share this one.’

  He hops off the counter and follows me to the door. ‘One last thing … if Hot Lips hasn’t called in five days, he’s not into you.’

  I consider throwing the last smoothie at him, but decide not to waste it. ‘Thanks for the insight.’

  ‘For you, no charge. Unlike some people, I don’t take advantage of the lovesick.’

  ‘Thanks again,’ I say, beating it across the driveway. ‘Enjoy your date.’

  He shouts after me. ‘Maybe your kissing needs improvement. The taste of bitter probably put him off.’

  It takes a superhuman effort, but I smile. ‘I’ll work on that.’

  I can still hear him laughing as I slam the trailer door.

  Thank God Mom and Dad only produced girls.

  Chapter Thirteen

  It takes two laps of the cafeteria for Kali and me to find a table far enough away from both Fletcher’s gang and Hollis’s. With more than half the students in Halloween costumes, it’s hard to tell who’s who. Kali isn’t exactly keeping a low profile dressed as Agnetha, the blonde from ABBA, in a stretchy blue jumpsuit, platform shoes, and with a silver headband across her forehead. She tried to talk me into wearing her Ariel costume, because my hair is ‘perfect for the part,’ but after the episode at the pool, I couldn’t see flopping into Spanish class in a mermaid outfit.

  ‘Willem called again yesterday,’ Kali says as we settle into our seats. ‘He upped his offer by fifty bucks.’

  Willem Orr is one of Lauren’s society pals, and he’s been trying to hire us to check up on his girlfriend, Addison Mayfield. They’ve been together since ninth grade, and Willem is madly in love; but lately someone’s been sending him anonymous reports of her cheating. Normally we’d be all over this case, but Addison’s dad is state governor. That means Willem and Addison hit the society pages a lot, as one of Austin’s young ‘it’ couples. We decided unanimously that the job was too risky. Willem says he’ll only accept that the rumors are true if we provide evidence on video. But who knows where that kind of evidence could end up? It’s one thing to interfere in love, another to interfere in state politics. Plus, we could expose our business too widely in the process. So far we’ve managed to keep it fairly exclusive by getting client referrals. Messing with public figures could bring unwanted attention from nosy outsiders. An extra fifty bucks – divided by three – ain’t worth the risk.

  ‘He’s persistent,’ I say. ‘But I still say no.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Kali says, peering around for Syd. ‘I take it Riaz never came through?’

  I shake my head. I’ve been trying to keep an open mind about Riaz, not because I’m that interested, but because I want to prove I’m over Eric. After my speech to Trisha, Simon’s ex, I wouldn’t mind walking my talk. It would be nice if Riaz played his part, but despite a long conversation on Wednesday, he never suggested getting together. I sent him a breezy e-mail on Friday ending with a ‘See you soon,’ and he didn’t take the hint. I’m afraid Brody’s right – about Riaz not being into me, I mean. He’s obviously wrong about everything else.

  It’s disappointing, but the worst part was having to spend another Saturday night at Mom’s. Happily, Dad got home Sunday, and I was on the first bus back to our apartment. He brought me a pretty cool top from New York and took me to my favorite Thai restaurant. Spending two weeks being nagged by my grandparents made me appreciate him a little more, although when I suggested that Mom could use some help with packaging and logo design for her beauty products, he shut me down cold. Mediator Girl is still flunking home repairs.

  Syd comes toward us carrying a garbage bag. She looks very Marlon Brando in a leather biker’s cap, but it’s not a costume, just her style.

  ‘Hey,’ I say, ‘what’s in the—’

  My question hangs in the air as Syd strides by us to join Stains and Rambo without so much as a ‘hi.’

  ‘Now what?’ Kali asks. ‘She doesn’t like ABBA?’ She pulls out her sandwich and takes a savage bite. ‘You know, I am so through with her moods. If she thinks we’re going to run over there and beg her to tell us what’s wrong, she’s got another think coming.’

  ‘Let’s just give her a minute,’ I say.

  Kali lasts about fifteen seconds before gathering her stuff and charging Syd’s table. ‘What’s your problem?’ she demands.

  Syd tosses the garbage bag at Kali. ‘You mean besides this?’

  Opening the bag gingerly, Kali flinches. ‘Ew! Is that some kind of sick Halloween joke?’

  A putrid odor rises over the usual smell of fried food that permeates the cafeteria. It’s almost as bad as the fish guts.

  Rambo grins. ‘It’s a message.’ He’s never shown much interest in Love, Inc. before, but this new twist intrigues him.

  ‘It’s a raw chicken,’ Kali tells me. ‘Complete with head.’

  ‘Guess where I found this decomposing bird?’ Syd asks. ‘Duct-taped to my friggin’ locker, that’s where. With a note attached to its foot.’

  She gestures to the bag, and I know there’s only one way I’m going to get an answer. Holding my breath, I open the bag and peek at the tag: I want a refund.

  I drop the chicken into the nearest trash can and say, ‘So we have an unhappy client.’

  ‘It’s Drake,’ Syd says. ‘The guy whose girlfriend was on the take for makeup samples. You wanted me to go soft on her, so I sent one of my mom’s prescription antiaging creams. All it did was make the girl’s face look a bit flushed, and Drake wanted more of a show.’

  ‘Ah,’ Kali says. ‘He’s saying we chickened out.’

  Syd helps herself to one of the dozen or so mini chocolate bars that comprise Stains’s lunch. ‘The message is loud and clear.’

  ‘Give him his money,’ I say. ‘You did the right thing, Syd. We can’t go around maiming people.’

  Kali reaches for one of Stains’s chocolate bars, and he flicks her hand away. ‘Do you think Drake might accept an exchange instead of a refund?’ she asks.

  Kali is so engrossed in her conversation with Miller that she doesn’t notice Syd and me approaching her locker.

  ‘Looks like you were wrong,’ I whisper to Syd. ‘This one’s lasted an entire week, and she’s not sick of him yet.’

  ‘Well, she better get sick of him fast,’ Syd says, waving to get Kali’s attention. ‘The countdown’s started.’

  Kali holds up a couple of fingers to signal she needs more time – time we don’t have. We’ve decided to deliver Drake’s ‘exchange
’ before the school day ends.

  Syd marches the last few feet and grabs Kali’s arm. ‘Sorry, Miller, she’s needed in surgery. She’ll call you later.’

  ‘Oh my God, could you be any ruder?’ Kali asks, as Syd hustles us around the corner. ‘I was in the middle of breaking up with him, and you know that has to be handled with care.’

  ‘Breaking up?’ Syd asks. ‘Were you ever going out?’

  ‘We had lunch together three days this week, in case you hadn’t noticed I was missing from your table,’ Kali says.

  ‘What went wrong?’ Syd asks. ‘Were his biceps too perfect?’

  Kali ignores the sarcasm and says, ‘It was truly tragic: he turned out to be a horrible kisser.’ She gives a little shiver. ‘We’re talking snake tongue.’

  ‘When did the saliva swap take place?’ Syd asks. ‘I don’t recall your mentioning a date.’

  Grinning mischievously, Kali sets the stage. ‘Picture the science lab, two hours ago. He was coming in, I was heading out. He said I look cute in my costume today. I said he looks cute every day, and since the place was empty, we did our own little chemistry experiment. Unfortunately, the results weren’t what I’d hoped for.’

  ‘Couldn’t you look at his arms and pretend?’ I ask.

  Kali shakes her head. ‘You know as well as I do that it’s either there or it isn’t. Nice packaging can’t create a spark where it doesn’t exist.’

  Syd is walking so fast we can barely keep up now. ‘We’ve only got four minutes before the next period starts,’ she says. ‘Give me the glue and let’s move.’

  Nearly running, Kali somehow manages to locate the superglue she’s kept in her bag since our attack on Miss Daisy. ‘Remember,’ she says, as we part, ‘Mr Dennis keeps a seating plan in his top desk drawer.’

  Syd and I take up positions around the corner while Kali lets out a piercing wail and collapses with a clatter against the lockers closest to the geography classroom.

  Mr Dennis is out of his room in a shot. ‘Kalista! Are you all right?’

  Kali turns on the drama machine with so much squealing and clutching of stomach that we easily sneak into the classroom. I pull open the top drawer, find the seating plan, then stand guard. Working quickly but carefully, Syd applies a thin line of glue to the edges of the seat where Drake’s ex-girlfriend normally sits.

  We slip out of the room to find Kali giving an animated account of her abdominal pain. Mr Dennis looks queasy.

  ‘We’ll take her to the nurse’s office,’ I say. ‘Don’t worry.’

  ‘Thanks, girls. Even in pain, your friend’s a Super Trouper.’ He chuckles at his lame ABBA joke. ‘What a delightful young lady.’

  ‘I couldn’t agree more, sir,’ Syd says.

  Drake meets us at his ex’s locker. His zombie lumberjack costume is terrifying. His face is covered in grayish makeup, and there’s fake blood caked at his temple. It’s not a stretch to believe he’d leave dead chickens in lockers. Or worse.

  ‘Where’s my money?’ he asks.

  ‘We have it,’ Kali says. ‘But first we want to offer you an exchange.’

  Almost on cue, there’s a screech down the hall that makes Kali’s seem amateurish. Then we hear a steady thumping noise and a rhythmic scraping that grows ever louder until Drake’s ex-girlfriend comes into view, half-walking, half-crawling, and dragging her entire desk with her. The fact that she’s dressed like Catwoman only adds to the show.

  Drake smiles, and his teeth look yellow against the makeup. ‘Is she attached to that thing?’

  Catwoman sees him and bursts into tears. ‘Drake, thank God. Some A-hole glued my seat and my costume’s stuck. Give me your shirt so I can get out of this thing.’

  ‘Can’t you just use your superpowers?’ Drake asks, taking off his plaid jacket.

  Catwoman squirms out of her one-piece latex costume, revealing an animal-print bra and G-string.

  ‘ME-OW!’ a guy calls.

  ‘Give me the jacket, Drake,’ Catwoman says. ‘Now.’

  Drake puts it back on. ‘Nah. Get your new boyfriend’s jacket.’

  As more students come out of the classrooms to see what the commotion’s about, Drake’s ex-girlfriend twists herself into a pretzel, trying to cover up with one hand and open her locker with the other. The Austin High cell phone paparazzi catch a lucky break, because sometime between lunch and her chemistry experiment, Kali found time to glue the lock shut.

  Again Mr Dennis comes to the rescue, this time with his suit jacket. We take that as our cue to fade into the crowd.

  Drake tracks us down after the next period. ‘You’re off the hook,’ he says. ‘The pictures are already all over Facebook. Look for the video on YouTube later.’

  ‘Customer satisfaction guaranteed,’ Syd says.

  My phone rings as I sit down with my Bennu latte. It’s become our satellite office, now that SpongeBob has moved up in the world to Starbucks. ‘She’s tried me three times,’ I say, checking the call display. ‘We can’t ignore this.’

  Syd flips open her phone to receive an incoming text. ‘She’s trying me too. But group starts in half an hour. Dieter will kill us if we’re late again.’

  Kali’s phone is buzzing now. ‘How can we ignore a client in crisis?’

  ‘Fine,’ Syd says, texting a reply. ‘I’m telling her she has exactly ten minutes to get here, and another ten to talk to us. Then we’re gone.’

  The client in question is Stacey, the girl we coached throughout her hookup with Graham. Thanks to our ongoing counseling, she’s managed not to spoil or suffocate Graham, and now they’re approaching their two-month anniversary. It’s an all-time record for Stacey, and she’s worried about blowing it.

  Breezing into the café just as we’re preparing to leave, Stacey flops onto the sofa beside Syd and says, ‘Can I buy you another round before we start?’

  ‘We need to leave in exactly one minute,’ Syd says. ‘You’ll have to talk fast.’

  Stacey lays out her plans for the anniversary: a limo will pick Graham up before dawn and take him to Town Lake, where the caterer she’s hired will have set up a table for two on the Pfluger pedestrian bridge. There, they’ll have eggs Benedict, followed by cinnamon doughnuts and hot chocolate (Graham’s favorites), while they watch the sun rise over the city. After that, they take off in a romantic balloon ride over the canyons and the Enchanted Rock.

  Syd sums up her reaction with one word. ‘Overkill. Scale it all back, Stace. Take a long bike ride in the park, and don’t even think about busting out the balloon until you hit the year mark.’

  Stacey’s face falls. I bet she’s already bought the tickets. ‘The balloon’s a cool idea,’ I say. ‘But it’s just too much on top of everything else. Remember, no spoiling that dog.’

  ‘On the other hand,’ Kali says, looking at Syd and me, ‘she could say her mom won the tickets in charity raffle and doesn’t want them herself. That lets Stacey off the hook. What do you think?’

  I think floating over Texas in a wicker basket is the opposite of romantic, but then I’m deathly afraid of heights. ‘Go for it,’ I say. ‘But only if you cut all the rest.’

  Syd gives a nod of approval, and we hastily gather our jackets and head for the door.

  ‘But wait,’ Stacey calls after us. ‘Wouldn’t the sunrise breakfast be more romantic?’

  We are now officially late for group yet again.

  ‘Fine,’ I say. ‘Breakfast on the bridge, but you’ll have to ride your bikes there and skip the balloon.’

  Stacey follows us. ‘Is breakfast too boring?’ she asks. ‘A balloon ride says I’m exciting – a girl who likes to take chances and live life to the fullest.’

  ‘Ballooning or breakfast,’ Kali calls over her shoulder as we start running down the street. ‘It’s your choice, Stacey, but it’s one or the other!’

  ‘Relationships are all about balance, aren’t they?’ I say, after Lauren finishes describing how she resolved a problem with Trey. ‘You
need to do enough to show you’re into it, but not so much that the other person gets complacent.’

  ‘People would rather be treated like crap than be treated too well,’ Syd says.

  Dieter says, ‘I don’t think that’s true of a healthy relationship, Sydney.’

  ‘Maybe it’s hard to feel like you deserve to be treated well,’ Kali says.

  ‘You all deserve to be treated well,’ Dieter says. ‘In fact, you have to demand it. And you prove you deserve it by treating other people well.’

  ‘It doesn’t always work that way,’ I say.

  ‘I’ll tell you how it works,’ Evan says, leaning over to pat my knee. ‘The key is not to aim too high. Zahra, you’re a seven-point-five, and you should be shooting for the same.’ He nods at Kali. ‘You could go as high as eight-point-five, no problem.’

  ‘Evan,’ Dieter says, frowning. ‘Do you really think that’s helpful?’

  Evan nods, alert for once. ‘I do, because it’s realistic. Look at Syd. She keeps turning me down because she’s a solid eight and I’m a six.’

  ‘On your best day,’ Syd mutters.

  ‘I’m just saying,’ Evan continues. ‘If you date up, you end up trying too hard. If you date down, you don’t try hard enough. Like Zahra says, it’s all about balance.’

  ‘That is so not what I meant,’ I say.

  ‘Evan’s got a point,’ Simon says. ‘Although there’s more to it than looks. You’ve got to factor everything into the package. An eight-point-five with issues is just a seven. And a seven who’s fun and smart and knows it can clear a nine.’

  ‘What do you think about that, Zahra?’ Dieter says. He is picking lint off his black pants as an excuse not to look at me. There’s going to be hilarity in Father Casey’s office later, I know it.

  ‘Simon is probably right about the confidence,’ I allow. ‘But there’s a lot more to the equation than that.’

  ‘Right,’ Kali says. ‘Because you can date up and be let down. You guys have forgotten to factor in chemistry.’