Playing the Player

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  Wait, what the hell was I thinking? Trina wasn’t a girl. She was more like a robot disguised as a girl.

  “You’re late,” she announced.

  I looked around at the empty library. “Yeah, it was crazy. We had to drive in circles waiting for a parking spot. Almost as bad as a concert at Red Rocks.”

  Trina’s glare intensified, and her chest shifted higher. Why was I noticing this?

  Gilly and Max ignored us and took off running for the kids’ section. This time the librarian did glare. “No running in the library,” she hissed, but the kids didn’t slow down.

  “God, Slade.” Trina dropped her arms in frustration and stalked after the kids.

  The librarian smirked at me as I followed Trina. They were probably best friends, bonding over boring encyclopedias or sappy romance novels. Ugh.

  Max parked himself in front of the science picture books while Gilly headed for the small theater with the cutout window.

  “Awesome. It’s still here.” I plopped down in front of the theater. “Show me what ya got, Gilly.”

  She grinned, then ducked so I couldn’t see her behind the cardboard façade.

  Trina and Max whispered behind me, having an intense discussion about how many books he could check out at one time.

  A few other kids wandered in, drawn like magnets to the theater. Apparently the library was the place to be on a Wednesday morning. I noticed the moms looked tired. No wonder Mrs. G. had been so happy to see me that morning.

  A little girl wearing a tiara and a Snow White costume peeked behind the puppet stage. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

  “Getting ready for a show,” Gilly whispered back loudly. “You should watch. It’s gonna be great.”

  I liked a girl with confidence.

  Gilly popped up, peeking out of the stage window. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen! It’s time for the show!”

  Suddenly I was surrounded by little kids. A few of them leaned against me like I was a giant pillow. Max settled himself on my lap. The moms watched from the overstuffed couch underneath a window.

  Trina stood off to the side, biting her lip and looking anxious. Man, that girl was wound tight. What could she possibly be worried about here?

  Gilly disappeared from view and two Muppets appeared in the window: a faded, bedraggled Elmo, and a Miss Piggy whose long blonde hair had been chopped off, making her look punk.

  “What are we doing today?” asked Miss Piggy.

  “I don’t know,” squeaked Elmo. “What do you want to do?”

  “Don’t ask me!” Miss Piggy said. “I’m crabby Trina. You’re the playboy with the fun ideas!”

  All the kids giggled, and the moms on the couch tittered.

  Holy. Crap. I glanced at Trina. Her dark eyes stood out against her pale skin, making her look like a statue. A very fragile statue ready to crack.

  I needed to stop Gilly before things got worse.

  Punk Piggy bounced in the theater window. “You’re so handsome, Slade. Maybe we should go on a date.”

  Oh no.

  Max groaned on my lap. The little girls sitting by me giggled and leaned forward in anticipation.

  “I don’t date mean girls,” said Elmo. “You have to be nice if you want a kiss from a playboy.”

  One of the moms snorted with laughter.

  “Hey, Gilly,” I interrupted, afraid to look at Trina, “Let’s take a br—”

  “Shh!” Every little kid in the room turned to me, fingers on their lips. Those librarians had trained them well.

  “I am nice!” yelled Miss Piggy. “I’m just having MPS.” Then Miss Piggy launched herself at Elmo, making loud kissing noises, while the moms on the couch fell out laughing.

  Max looked up at me, frowning. “What’s MPS?”

  Trying to hold in laughter, I darted a glance at Trina just in time to see her turn away from me, her pale face now flushed. She hurried toward the cardboard stage and knelt down, reaching for Gilly.

  “No!” Miss Piggy yelled. “We’re not done!”

  “Commercial! Commercial!” hollered Elmo, whacking Trina on the head.

  All the kids burst into applause, and so did the moms.

  I shoved Max off my lap and hurried to the stage. Gilly looked ready to blow a gasket, as did Trina.

  “I’m not done!” Gilly yell-whispered at Trina. “I have lots more words.”

  Trina glanced up at me. When I saw the embarrassment in her eyes and the blush still coloring her cheeks, I was surprised by the twinge of sympathy I felt.

  She turned away from me. “Please, Gillian. No more.”

  Gilly danced with excitement. “Was I good, Slade?”

  Great. No matter what I said, I’d piss off one of them. I glanced at Trina, whose eyes were still lowered. Whoa. She had really long eyelashes. I hadn’t noticed that before. I blinked and refocused on Gilly.

  “You’re so…creative, Gilly. And you did great with the voices. But, um, maybe the others kids should have a turn.” I knelt and pried Miss Piggy out of her grip, then handed the puppet to the girl in the Snow White dress.

  “Miss Piggy doesn’t love Elmo,” Max announced, appearing next to us. “She loves Kermit.”

  “But Kermit’s green,” Gilly argued. “Elmo’s cuter. Miss Piggy should love him.”

  Trina sighed next to me. Our eyes met, then she glanced away, her cheeks still flushed. “Story time starts at ten,” she said. “Let’s put the puppets away and pick out some books while we’re waiting.”

  Gilly stomped her foot. “I hate story time. They always read boring stories.”

  Max stomped his foot in solidarity. “Yeah. They never read about science. It’s always stories about lost puppies or runaway bunnies.”

  I bit back a laugh. “You know, my favorite book was about a bunny that got lost.”

  The kids looked at me, eyes big and curious.

  “What is it?” Max asked.

  “The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. You should ask your parents to read it to you.”

  I felt Trina watching me. “What?” I asked, expecting a lecture about my reading taste.

  She shrugged then ducked her head, avoiding my gaze. “I loved that story, too. Fourth grade read-aloud. I made my mom buy it for me because I loved it so much.”

  “Oh.” I waited for her to say something else, but she busied herself putting the puppets into a plastic tub.

  “How long before snack?” Max asked, tugging on my arm.

  “Um,” I glanced at Trina.

  She jumped up and put her hands on her hips. For someone so short, she had great legs.

  Shit. What was wrong with me today?

  “Didn’t you read the schedule, Slade?”

  Whoa. I didn’t care what her legs looked like or how long her eyelashes were when she treated me like one of the kids.

  “No, I didn’t. I was busy last night.”

  “I’ll bet you were,” she muttered, kicking at the carpet with her flip-flop.

  “It’s the MPS,” Gilly whispered loudly to Max. “My mom says it makes girls crabby.”

  “Gilly!” Trina snapped, whipping her head around like that chick in The Exorcist. “That is a very inappropriate thing to say.”

  Gilly gave us an angelic smile. “You mean like calling Slade a playboy?”

  “I still don’t see why that’s a bad word,” Max said. “What’s wrong with playing?”

  Why couldn’t I be working in Victoria’s Secret? I’d be surrounded by hot chicks trying on slinky underwear and—

  “Snack time,” Trina announced. She reached down to grab the kids by the hands and then dragged them toward the door.

  I hustled after them as the kids howled in protest and the librarians glared at us.

  Once outside, Trina waited until I caught up to them. She took a deep breath but didn’t say anything.

  Her eyes looked shiny. Was she trying not to cry? Where was Alex when I needed him? Weepy chicks were his specialt
y.

  “So,” she said, taking a deep breath. She raised her wrist to her nose and sniffed.

  This chick was all kinds of crazy.

  “We need to discuss appropriate behavior.” Trina glared at Gilly, who ignored her, humming loudly and hopping across a faded hopscotch on the sidewalk.

  “It’s not nice to make fun of other people,” Trina continued. “Especially in a public setting.”

  Gilly stopped hopscotching and eyed Trina warily. “The library is public?”

  Trina glanced at me like she wanted my help. But with what?

  “Yes.” Trina sighed, looking at me with annoyance. “Anywhere outside of your house is public.”

  Gilly started hopping again. “At least I kept my clothes on.”

  Max started hopping next to Gilly. “I want to go back inside and get some books.”

  Trina glanced at me, but I still couldn’t figure out what she wanted me to do. I’d have to wing it.

  “So we have snacks in the car, right?” I shot her my best grin, but she just tugged at her hair in frustration. I usually didn’t like short hair on girls, but it wasn’t terrible on Trina. She reminded me of an anime character, especially with her big eyes. I looked away. I needed to get a grip.

  She huffed an exasperated sigh. “We’ve got apple slices and crackers. Let’s eat, then we’ll go back inside and get books.”

  Once the kids were settled under a tree with food, and we sat on a bench nearby, I decided to make her laugh, hoping to relieve some of her embarrassment from the puppet show.

  “Someday Gilly will have MPS,” I whispered, “then she won’t be making fun of it.”

  She didn’t laugh or even crack a smile.

  “Right?” I forced a laugh, but she stared at me like I was a giant dog turd.

  God. If she couldn’t laugh at herself, or at least the kids, she’d never make it as a nanny. Besides, she should be used to Gilly’s special brand of insanity.

  “Come on, Trina. You’ve gotta admit that whole puppet disaster was funny.”

  She crossed her arms, shifting her chest up and out. I made myself look at her face, but then I got distracted by her eyelashes again, and those incredible eyes.

  “Maybe if she’d made fun of you, you’d understand.” Trina sniffed her wrist again. What the hell?

  I tugged at the shark tooth hanging from a cord around my neck. It was supposed to be my good luck charm, but it sure wasn’t working today.

  “They did make fun of me,” I said. “Gilly called me a playboy. My Elmo self got sexually assaulted by a punk Miss Piggy.” I waited for her laugh, but it didn’t come.

  She blinked at me, those long eyelashes fluttering.

  “Anyway.” I tilted my head toward the kids, who squirted each other with the straws from their juice boxes. “What’s next after the library?”

  And then an amazing thing happened. Trina actually smiled. Just a tiny bit. But still.

  “You didn’t even open your binder, did you?”

  I shrugged, returning her grin, hoping hers wouldn’t fade too fast. “Nah. But I will. Tonight. I promise I’ll read the whole thing.”

  Her laugh surprised me. It was deep and…sort of sexy.

  “You will not.” She looked different when she smiled. Almost like a whole other person. “You’ll go out with…whoever…tonight, and sleep all day tomorrow, and on Friday you’ll show up completely clueless about the plan.”

  I put a hand on my heart. “That hurts, Clemons. I cannot wait to read that binder. It’s right next to my bed.”

  She laughed again and kicked the ground with her sandal. That must be her nervous tell. I’d have to remember that.

  The rest of the day didn’t completely suck. After we left the library, Trina dragged us on an architectural tour of the neighborhood, talking about mullioned windows and Tudor something or other.

  The poor kids were bored out of their minds, so I spiced things up by creating my own history, telling the kids about the ghosts that haunted each of the houses. Gilly ate it up, screaming and running around, saying she could see the ghosts in the windows. Max stayed quiet, but he carried a rubber T. rex in each hand, just in case.

  Eventually Trina gave up on her lecture, telling us we had no appreciation for the history of our city, blah, blah, blah.

  It was a good thing Mrs. G. had hired me. If she hadn’t, this summer would be an epic fail for the kids.

  Chapter Ten

  Trina

  Friday, June 7

  My phone pinged with a text from Desi.

  Are we on for movie 2nite?

  Yep. Will call later.

  Maybe a funny movie would clear my head of whatever disasters happened with Slade today.

  When I staggered into kitchen, still yawning, Mom handed me a plate of toasted waffles.

  I took the plate and sat down. “Five-star cuisine. I like it.” She grinned and handed me a cup of steaming java.

  “You’re a mind-reader.” The coffee tasted bitter and the waffles were burned, but I kept that to myself because I loved her, and knew she was just as tired as me.

  She sat down across from me, savoring her coffee like it was a gourmet latte.

  “I figured you could use the extra caffeine jolt. Third day of nannying and all. How’s it going? How’s the other nanny?”

  We’d hardly seen each other all week because of her crazy schedule at the hospital. I debated how much to tell her because, one, she would totally disapprove of the secret double salary, and two, hopefully Slade would be history after today.

  “It’s going okay.” I swallowed a mouthful of partially frozen waffle. “The other nanny’s all right. Just not quite as dedicated as me.”

  Mom smirked. “Not many people would be.”

  “Was that a compliment or an insult?”

  She laughed. “Maybe both. So what’s up? Did she like all the activities you planned for the week?”

  I decided I could tell her part of the truth. “He hated all the activities. He would rather play hide-and-seek all day than actually teach the kids anything enriching.”

  Mom leaned forward, way too interested. “He? The other nanny is a guy?”

  I couldn’t let her get any ideas about Slade and me. She always lectured me about being my own person and following my dreams and all that. But whenever a big dance rolled around, she’d look sort of wistful when I didn’t go.

  “Yeah, a totally useless guy who makes my job twice as hard as it should be.”

  Mom tugged at her long braid. When I first cut off all my hair, she’d been so freaked. Then she’d told me how proud she was that I wasn’t using long hair as a shield, or giving in to patriarchal standards of beauty.

  Talk about mixed messages.

  One day she wanted me to go to the prom in a Cinderella carriage, the next she wanted me to be like Katniss and take down the whole system. Maybe that’s what happened when you were left with only one kid to pin all your hopes and dreams on.

  I squeezed my eyes shut, as if that could block out the painful memories.

  “That doesn’t make sense, sweetie.” Mom sounded concerned. “Why would Max’s mom hire someone who wasn’t qualified?”

  I hated lying to my mom. I shoved more cold waffle into my mouth and chewed.

  “He’s…um…I guess he’s not that bad. He’s not endangering them or anything.”

  Not yet, anyway.

  She watched me closely, a tiny smile quirking her lips. “So maybe the issue you have is different…styles?”

  I shrugged. “That’s one way to put it.”

  Mom nodded and drained her mug of coffee sludge. “Do I know this boy?”

  “No,” I said. “He’s going to be a senior, like me, but I don’t think you’ve ever met him.”

  She stood up to stretch. “Too bad you have to work today. We could’ve hung out together.”

  A twinge of guilt flickered through me. “Maybe tomorrow? Pedicures?”

  Her face fel
l. “I wish we could, hon, but I can’t afford it this month.”

  “But I can. I get paid today.”

  Mom looked at me quizzically. “You’re not making that much, T. And I want you to save most of your salary for college expenses.”

  I swished the last bite of waffle in the syrup. I always saved the money I earned, but once in a while I wanted to splurge, especially on my mom.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

  She ruffled my hair. “I’m sorry, T. Maybe next month.”

  I wondered just how much of Slade’s crap I’d be willing to put up with to earn a double salary for the rest of the summer.

  Slade was just getting out of his car as I parked in front of Max’s house. Gilly expelled a dreamy sigh. Tall and tanned, his golden brown hair glinting under the bright sun—I definitely got why Gillian was lovestruck. Thank God I had more sense than a five-year-old.

  “He’s so cute,” Gillian said from her booster seat. “You should be his girlfriend, Trina.” She wrapped her arms around Spike, who’d come with us for the day. He licked her face and she giggled. “Let’s go already!” Gillian unbuckled herself and reached for the car door handle, but since the child locks were on she couldn’t escape.

  I jolted out of my daze. “Hang on, Gillian.”

  As soon as I released her, she shoved past me and charged up the sidewalk while I put on Spike’s leash. Slade bent to pick her up and then twirled her around, laughing. Her squeals of delight were loud enough to hear two states away.

  Once he’d set her down, Slade waited for me while Gillian danced around him like a adoring groupie. I struggled to get a grip on the feelings roiling inside of me: guilt about the secret double salary, guilt about trying to get Slade fired, and anxiety that I didn’t have enough lavender oil to get through the day.

  “Hey.” I tried to sound casual, reminding myself that I was Bird Brain to him. Nothing more.

  His teeth glinted white against his tanned skin as he smiled. He reached up to pull back his hair, tying it with that stupid shoelace. “Hey, Clemons. We’ve almost survived a whole week together. We both deserve a medal.” His grin was like the sun, radiant and warm.