‘Like you know anything about baking.’
‘Excuse me, I suggested adding fruit and maple syrup, and look’ – he makes a show of examining a recipe card – ‘there they are.’
‘Good call,’ one of our regular customers tells Brody.
‘I would have—’
Kali’s scream cuts me off. ‘Banksy!’
Brody lifts the big dog out of Glennis’s car and carries him through the automatic doors of the veterinary hospital. A receptionist ushers him and Syd directly into an examination room.
We sit in the waiting area until Brody comes back out. ‘They’re running some tests,’ he says. ‘The vet says it could be some form of heart disease, or it could be something toxic he ate.’
I pat Kali’s knee, knowing she’s worried. ‘He was already under the weather when Syd brought him over yesterday. It wasn’t anything he ate on your watch.’
‘Maybe he stole one of Zahra’s gut grenades,’ Brody says.
Kali glares at him. ‘This isn’t funny, Brody. You should head over to the restaurant. We’re sticking around here.’
‘I’ll wait,’ he says, picking up a copy of Sports Illustrated from the table. ‘You’ll need a ride home anyway.’
We sit in silence until the sliding doors open again and Glennis appears with René.
‘Mom!’ Kali hits her forehead with the heel of her hand. ‘I forgot to call you.’
‘You did,’ Glennis says. ‘I waited at Chez Zee for half an hour, and when neither of you answered your phones, I went to the Recipe Box because Brody said he was picking you up there. René was kind enough to drive me over. Is Banksy OK?’
‘We’re still waiting to hear,’ Kali explains.
Glennis walks René to the door, where they stand chatting about dogs and photography as if they have all the time in the world. It’s not like René to leave the store in the hands of part-timers, especially during peak season.
Finally, Syd comes out of the examination room – without Banksy. ‘You’re still here,’ she says.
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘How is he?’
‘Conscious.’ She sinks into the seat beside mine. ‘The vet thinks it’s a congenital heart problem. Noticing Glennis and René, Syd asks, ‘What are they doing here?’
‘We forgot to call Mom,’ Brody says.
‘Sorry to wreck your brunch,’ Syd says. ‘You guys should go. It’ll take hours to get the blood results.’
‘We’re staying,’ Kali says. ‘No matter how long it takes.’
Glennis turns to Brody. ‘You hang on to the car and make sure everyone gets home safely,’ she says. ‘I’ll take a cab.’
‘You certainly will not,’ René says, smiling at her. ‘I’ll run you home.’ She opens her mouth to protest, and he says, ‘I insist.’
I’ve never seen René look at any of our female customers the way he’s looking at Kali’s mom right now.
Never one to pass up such an opportunity, Kali says, ‘You can still eat at Chez Zee, Mom. Take René for lunch to thank him for the ride.’
Glennis blushes. ‘Kalista!’
René winks at Kali as he guides Glennis to the door. ‘The answer is yes, but lunch is on me.’
When they’re gone, Brody pulls out his phone. ‘Thin crust work for everyone?’
Kali smiles at him. ‘Double cheese.’
‘Mushrooms,’ Syd says, before returning to the back room.
‘Hot peppers,’ I add. Pizza is the only food I like fiery, and I make sure my grandparents don’t know about it. It would give them false hope.
‘So few girls like hot peppers,’ Brody says. ‘Must be the hair.’
Kali gets up to hold the door for a tall, slim guy about Brody’s age, with closely cropped brown hair. He’s carrying a cage in one hand. The other hand is bandaged.
‘I’m Caleb,’ he tells the receptionist. ‘Hannibal’s here for his shots.’
‘Hannibal’s a funny name for a cat,’ Kali says, smiling, as Caleb takes the seat beside her. Cute guys are to Kali what a double espresso is to the rest of the world – an instant pick-me-up.
He smiles back. ‘But it’s a great name for a killer rabbit.’
‘And … she’s off,’ Brody whispers to me. ‘Give her nine minutes and she’ll find three things wrong with him. Her average is only slightly lower than my mom’s.’
Even though Syd and I tease Kali about the same thing, I have to defend her. ‘When she meets the right guy she’ll stop looking for faults.’
‘Please. She doesn’t want to find the right guy. She just thinks she does.’ I glance at him curiously. ‘Don’t look so surprised,’ he says. ‘There’s more to me than great abs and a pretty face.’
‘Your inner beauty is so well hidden.’
‘I grow on people,’ he says. ‘Like mold on a gut grenade.’
Rolling my eyes, I reach into my bag and pull out the envelope I found yesterday. ‘Does this belong to you, by any chance?’
His smug smile fades. ‘What were you doing snooping through my stuff?’
‘Hello? You mixed it up with my stuff in the trailer.’
‘Well, you better not have looked through it.’ He pushes up the sleeves of his black shirt, then pushes them back down again. It’s the first time I’ve seen Brody nervous.
‘Of course I looked through it. I needed a distraction after you called me crazy in front of a stranger.’
‘Why are you always so sensitive?’
‘Look who’s talking, Mister Don’t Look at My Art.’
‘It’s not art.’ He sounds mortified. ‘It’s photojournalism.’
‘Call it what you like, they’re great pictures. And I don’t even like sports.’
He gives me a sideways look. ‘Really? Which one did you like best?’
I glance up at Kali and find her engrossed in conversation with Caleb. ‘The one where the football player just scored a touchdown,’ I say. ‘It’s a perfect moment in time.’
‘That’s what I was aiming for. The hardest part is being patient long enough to let those moments happen. You can’t force it.’
I nod. My mediation work is like that. You have to get everything into position and then let things unfold. Trying to rush the process always derails it. ‘Are you going to study journalism?’
‘Who knows? Right now it’s fun. If I make it official, it becomes work.’
‘When you love something enough, it probably never becomes work. That’s how I feel about baking, anyway.’
‘So you’re going to make the world a better place one cupcake at a time?’
‘Why not?’
‘Everyone loves a baker,’ he says. ‘At least, I do.’
He smiles, and I feel it again. Something is definitely stirring for Brody that did not stir for Andrew.
The receptionist calls for Hannibal, and Caleb takes a pair of thick oven mitts out of his backpack before picking up the crate. Kali opens the door to the examination room for him.
‘Doesn’t Caleb remind you of Owen Gaines?’ she asks. ‘You know, his build and the way he walks? I wonder if he can sing.’
The pizzas arrive a few minutes later. Brody offers some to the staff and sends a couple of pieces back for Syd and Caleb.
‘Brody makes a wicked goat cheese pizza,’ Kali says. ‘He even makes his own dough.’ She ignores my warning look and forges on. ‘You should make it for Zahra sometime, Brody.’
Brody shakes his head. ‘There is no way I will ever cook my signature dish for Zahra.’
I knew it. Kali just gave him an opening to skewer me again.
Then Brody amends his statement. ‘At least, not until she publicly admits she used my ideas for her squares without sharing credit.’
Kali laughs. ‘Just give it up, Z. He’ll never let this go if you don’t.’
‘Fine,’ I say, biting into my pizza. ‘I guess you inspired me to experiment in a new direction. I’ll footnote the recipe card.’
‘Do it and the pizz
a is yours,’ he says. ‘All you can eat.’
His eyes lock on mine, and my stomach does an odd rolling dance. Hot peppers are always so risky.
I can feel Kali watching us, upgrading our compatibility quotient. But then Brody’s phone rings and breaks the spell. It’s on the coffee table in front of us, and I can see the call display: Juliette.
Tossing a half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box, he grabs the phone and steps outside. ‘Hey,’ he says, as the door closes. ‘Still on for tonight?’
My hormones may be running again, but they’re obviously misfiring horribly.
I barely have time to beat myself up, though, before Syd reappears. She sits down across from me and drops her face into her hands.
And if there is anything sadder than a pissed-off-at-the-world rebel crying as if her heart would break, I hope I never live to see it.
Chapter Twenty
Three things I never thought I’d need to know:
A pacemaker built for humans also works for dogs.
A used pacemaker is free – but someone has to donate it, and thatmeans dying first, which may not happen on the dog’s schedule.
A brand-new pacemaker costs about five grand.
Obviously, Banksy is worth every penny for a new pacemaker, but Syd can barely afford the cost of the surgery. Mrs Stark picked up the huge bill for the emergency clinic, but the rest of her savings are tied up in a nonrefundable down payment for a face-lift. Mr Stark is tapped out because of Charlotte’s implants. Neither of Syd’s parents sees the sense in borrowing money for a five-year-old dog that has a life expectancy of ten years.
It’s a crime. Apart from Kali and me, that dog is Syd’s family. The reason she depends on him is because she can’t depend on them.
Syd would probably resort to desperate measures to get the money if she could, but the vet told her to stay close and keep the dog calm and quiet. For the moment, she’s in a holding pattern, calling the vet constantly and rushing home at lunch and after school every day.
Kali and I are trying to raise the money ourselves, although we decided not to tell Syd in case we fall short. Half a pacemaker isn’t going to cut it. We’re off to a strong start, though, with over four hundred dollars already.
As usual, inspiration came to me first in the kitchen. I baked hundreds of gourmet dog biscuits, and Kali packaged them with bows. We’ve been hawking them in the dog parks and at the Recipe Box. Unfortunately, we can’t sell the biscuits at school. It would be too much of a blow to Syd’s pride, given her cherished outsider status.
Meanwhile, we’ve also been holding down the fort on Love, Inc. Luckily, our only current revenge case is strictly voluntary. Even if Hollis has dumped Fletcher for good, someone still has to teach that guy some manners. Since we can’t stake out the Maroons’ equipment room every night, we bought a couple of tiny wireless cameras and a monitor off the Internet.
Kali interviewed two of the team’s former noseguards who suspect Fletcher is behind their fall from glory. One of them was only too happy to lend Kali a key to the equipment room. The other did a little legwork to find out the best time for our visit.
‘A bunch of college scouts are coming to the game tomorrow,’ Kali says as we flip the laundry cart in the equipment room and clamber on top of it. ‘If Fletcher’s going to make a move, it could be tonight.’
Our theory is that Fletcher will try to take out at least one of the Maroons’ two star defense players so that he’ll get a higher profile in the game. We have no idea how he might strike, though. Fletcher may be vile, but he isn’t stupid. He knows that using the same approach repeatedly will eventually get him busted. We’re hoping that this time he’ll decide to tamper with a teammate’s equipment. If so, we’ll catch the whole thing on camera.
Kali holds the flashlight as I tuck the first camera into a nook overhead. ‘So, was I right about René and my mom, or was I right?’ she asks.
I shush her. There is no way we can explain our presence here if the coaches get out of their meeting early and hear us. But Kali is stoked that her little nudge in pushing René and her mom together worked out. Their lunch went so well that they went out the next day, and again yesterday.
‘It all starts with one shared interest,’ Kali says.
I’m hoping it takes more than that. Mom and Xavier share an interest in business, and it’s blinded her to the quality of the design and logo he developed for the Yasin Valley line. I know Mom wanted blues and greens to conjure up images of the real valley, but Xavier says the orange-and-brown image he’s chosen will test better in consumer surveys. He says it’s earthy. I say it’s depressing. Mom claims to like Xavier’s design, which can only mean she likes him.
Kali and I mount two more cameras to capture every angle of the room before making a discreet exit. Next door, in the girls’ locker room, we hide the receiver that picks up the transmission through the walls and records the information onto a downloadable file. We’ll have to screen hours of footage, but Kali claims to be looking forward to it.
We’re giggling with relief as we make our way through the mostly empty halls toward the main exit.
‘I can’t wait to tell Syd we pulled this off,’ Kali says.
‘I really hope Fletcher comes through with some black magic,’ I say. ‘Slamming him is probably the only thing that could cheer Syd up right now.’
Brimming with energy, Kali tells me that she’s had two dates with Caleb – a personal record since Eric.
‘Just don’t ask me to babysit Hannibal while you’re touring someday,’ I say, recalling the oven mitts Caleb needed to handle the killer rabbit.
She turns the tables. ‘How about you and Andrew?’
‘We talked for half an hour last night, and we’re getting together this week.’
‘Get out,’ Kali says. ‘Is your cold heart thawing?’
‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘I’m giving it my best shot – for my matchmaker.’
As we make our way down the steps and across the lawn, a guy with spiky black hair and a dusting of stubble on his cheek calls Kali’s name. He’s wearing a brown jacket over a red T-shirt, skinny black jeans, and pointy brown shoes. The overall effect is punk-meets-rockabilly.
‘Max!’ Kali says, sounding surprised. ‘I am so sorry. I forgot to cancel our meeting. She introduces me and adds, ‘Max is Madison Manson’s brother.’
Max grins. ‘Madison Simpson when she’s not on the rink.’
Now I know what’s going on. After history class last week, Rambo told me that Madison’s brother had been asking about Syd. They met briefly when she went to the diner with Rambo to track down Madison. Now Max has asked Rambo to find out if Syd will go out with him, and Rambo is reluctant to bring up the subject with the lady herself, when she has sworn off guys forever.
Kali was only too pleased to take over. She gave Max a call to find out a bit more about him. He goes to an arts school, when he’s not keeping score for his sister’s roller derby team. That information, combined with his quirky good looks and friendliness, were all she needed to decide that she would help Max catch Syd’s attention. A direct setup is highly unlikely to work on Syd, so Kali must have arranged for a casual run-in today. Then Banksy got sick.
‘Syd’s dog collapsed on the weekend,’ Kali explains to Max now. ‘We’ll have to postpone.’
Max jams his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘You could make a donation if you want,’ Kali suggests, describing the Banksy fund.
Max counts out four five-dollar bills before heading off.
‘How nice was that?’ I say. ‘I know he has a crush, but twenty bucks is—’
‘Syd!’ Kali sounds a lot guiltier than she needs to, given the circumstances.
Syd has appeared seemingly out of nowhere, looking anxious and exhausted.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask.
‘I go to school here,’ she says.
‘Usually you’re at h
ome with Banksy by now.’
‘I came back to ask my Science teacher if I can postpone my exam until Banksy is better. Which he isn’t, thanks for asking.’
‘We haven’t had a chance to ask,’ I say. Syd is clearly so miserable, she wants the rest of the world to suffer too.
‘I can see you’re distracted,’ she says. ‘That guy is Madison’s brother and I saw him give you money. Are you doing a job without me? Keeping me out of the loop on purpose because you think I’m such a mess over my dog that I’m going to screw up?’
‘Syd, we’re trying to give you some downtime,’ I say. ‘You’ve got enough on your mind without worrying about work.’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ Kali says, always dangerous words, ‘but you’re being irrational.’
I jump in to preempt Syd’s strike. ‘She’s probably not sleeping much.’
Syd opens her mouth, but before anything caustic escapes, a little head on a big bike streaks toward us across the lawn. Braking at the last minute, the biker spins out his back wheel and sprays a perfect arc of turf all over us.
‘If it isn’t the three raging lesbians,’ Fletcher says. ‘Setting out to convert unwilling girls to their cause.’
Kali herds us off school property, and Fletcher follows. ‘What do you want?’ she asks.
‘I want you to mind your own business,’ he says, cutting in front of us and blocking the sidewalk.
There is no way he could know what Kali and I have just done, so she gives him a fake smile. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘For starters, stay away from Hollis. You’re filling her head with ideas.’
‘Consider it done,’ I say.
We fan out and walk around him, but he circles us again and blocks our path. ‘I know you’ve been talking about me. Did you really think you could ask questions and I wouldn’t hear about it?’
‘It was for a term paper on bullying,’ I say. ‘We were researching the master.’
We start walking, but Fletcher continues to circle us, cutting ever closer. ‘Well, I’ve been asking about you too. I’ve heard some interesting stories.’
Love Inc. Page 27
