Finding Kia

by Airicka Phoenix

  “Kia?” I knew my name, but it was hard to think properly when she dared me with her Jedi mind-melding powers to be wrong. It was the cupcake incident all over again.

  “Well, Kia.” Okay, not kidding, she totally did the whole hair flip, hip thrust, head bobbing thing. I swear I thought they only did that on TV. Color me impressed.

  “What do you think you were doing?”

  I don’t normally respond to intimidation, but a little gratitude would have been nice. “Uh, saving your life?”

  The two nameless Barbies behind her gasped—in perfect unison, I might add. I was eager to see if either of them would say something like, oh no she didn’! It didn’t happen.

  “Excuse me?” Claudia said in an appalled, I will beat your ass if you don’t change your answer tone.

  “I saved your life!” I repeated more firmly. “You were about to become a beauty queen pancake.”

  Her clones looked about to faint, but Claudia tipped her face back a notch, narrowed her eyes and studied me down the length of that perfectly proportioned nose.

  “Kia, right?” She moved forward with such fluidity, I almost jumped. Her slender arm hooped through mine and I was dragged into her side. “Walk with me.”

  Uh, no thanks? But we were moving, walking out of the parking lot and into the packed halls of Margaretson High.

  I had never had any aspiration to become a superstar. My fear of people hindered any chance of that. But at that moment I fully understood why. It was messed up.

  People actually stopped to stare at you. They pointed and whispered. They tripped over themselves getting out of your way. But worse of all, they weren’t looking at Claudia. Okay, they totally were, but they were looking at me next to Claudia and I knew what they were thinking. It was like one of those pictures you get in elementary school where you’re supposed to find which item did not belong. I was that item.

  “Okay!” I slipped free of Claudia. “This is me. My stop.” I started to walk away quickly before I could do something really embarrassing, like pee myself.

  “You can’t leave yet.” Wasn’t that line normally used in horror movies just before the idiot victim was sliced open with a butcher knife? I spun around, not really expecting Claudia to be leering with a bloody knife in hand, but something close. She wasn’t leering and there wasn’t a knife, but the trio watched me with an unnerving sort of glint in their eyes. “You have to let me thank you.”

  People were still passing around us the way a stream parted around a rock, or Moses. All eyes and ears were trained on our conversation. It was hard not to notice.

  “Let’s call it even, ‘k? Bye!”

  “Not so fast.” I never heard her coming. Then she was right in front of me. “I don’t like owing people. So why don’t you and I talk?”

  This was becoming all too Godfather-ish for my liking.

  “Seriously. I’m good. You can send me a Christmas card.”

  Her nails were French tipped, glossy and polished and digging into my arm. “I insist. What do you want? Fortune? Fame? A boy? A car maybe?”

  “No! I don’t want … wait, you can get me a car?” Whoo! No more buses! I quickly caught myself and shook my head. Focus, Kia! “No. Really. I’m good.”

  But Claudia wasn’t finished and I was trapped in a beauty queen triangle. “I’m having a party this weekend.” She fished into her doll-sized purse—seriously, how did one even fit anything in that thing?—and pulled out a card. A real, physical card, like the one lawyers and doctors carried with her name and address engraved flawlessly across the front. She pressed it into my hand. I marveled at the weight and texture and … was that jasmine I smelled? “You’re coming.”

  I stiffened, my head darting up. “I am?”

  She smiled a suspiciously feline smile. “Yes.” The purr sent a chill down my spine.

  “But this weekend is Halloween.”

  Claudia evidently practiced the health crap she preached, because her smile was flawless. Straight, white teeth flashed in a brilliant, if not a little creepy, grin. “I know.”

  “Of course you do. Well.” I tried passing the card back. “I can’t come.”

  A fine crease formed between her chocolate brown eyes. Her head tipped ever so slightly to the right and she peered at me in a way I imagined a cat would stare at a mouse if the mouse punched it in the nose. It was a concoction of confusion and surprise and offense. I couldn’t imagine a lot of people refusing one of Claudia DeLorenzo’s invitations.

  “If you’re worried about finding a date, don’t. That invitation is for one person only and girls come alone.” Then she smiled as though we were sharing a joke. “I always make sure there are more boys than girls. So you’ll have tons to choose from.”

  Why did that only make me queasier?

  “Think about it?” She flashed me a brilliant smile. “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  Fantastic.

  “You did what?” Nessie hissed in Bio, after I finished telling her about my adventure.

  “I know! Trust me. I’m never saving anyone ever again,” I muttered, face-planting into my open binder. It hurt far more than it should have when my glasses dug into my face.

  “Then she just invited you to her party?” There was a twinkle in her eyes that I was beginning to find very irritating.

  “Yes, but she’s like blackmailing me into going, using my stupid heroism as leverage.” Short, purple nails gouged into my arm. “Ow!”

  She ignored me. “Do you know what this means?”

  “Yeah, that you’re trying to amputate my arm!”

  She scoffed and let me go. “Not that!” She wiggled closer, as close as she could get while remaining in her stool. “Not just anyone gets invited to Claudia DeLorenzo’s parties, Kia! People would kill to be in your shoes right now!”

  I peeked down at my scuffed and filthy high tops. “If they want them that badly, they can have them. I got them for ten bucks at—”

  “Kia!”

  “Ms. Chaves, is there a problem?” Mrs. Pang’s voice carried like a whip across the room.

  “No ma’am,” Nessie muttered, turning back to her open textbook. She waited until Mrs. Pang’s back was turned once more before pouncing on me. “You have to go!”

  “No I don’t! What’s she going to do? Ignore me for the rest of the year?”

  “You don’t understand!” Nessie moaned, practically hanging off my arm. “I’ve heard things! Secret things about the goings-on of her party—”

  “Goings-on? Is this a party or a cult meeting?” Then another thought occurred to me. “You’ve been here a month, how do you know about any of this?”

  “I hear things. Kia!” She throttled my arm. “Please go. For me? I’m begging you!”

  Not understanding her at all, I dug into my back pocket and tossed her the card. “Here. You go.”

  She fell on it like a starved bear on a squirrel. Any minute I expected her to moan and stroke it saying, precious! My precious! She didn’t, but she did sniff it, which was equally creepy.

  “Oooo!” She moaned, her eyelashes fluttered as her eyeballs rolled back into her skull. She rubbed the card to her cheek. “It smells so pretty!”

  I edged away from her, severely disturbed by that side of my friend. “Well, I wish you and the card a happy life together.”

  With a final sigh of elation, she let her hands drop into her lap. “I can’t go. Claudia invited you. She won’t let me in.”

  “Seriously? How would she know?”

  The look on Nessie’s face said very clearly I was stupid. “She knows everything! Even I know that.”

  I shrugged. “Well, whatever. I’m not going.”

  “You have to!”

  “Why?”

  Nessie sniffled. “Because! Please! Please! Please! Please!”

  “Ms. Chaves!”

  But Nessie’s whole focus was now on me, her big, blue eyes bigger and bluer than usual. “Please!”

  “Ms.
Chaves!”

  I nudged her, but she was determined now, going so far as to clasp her hands together under her chin and pucker her lips. “I wuv you, Kiki!”

  Ugh.

  “Okay! Fine. Stop!”

  With a hoot that made several people around us laugh, Nessie turned front to face the wrath of Mrs. Pang. “I’m here!”

  Arms folded, Mrs. Pang glowered at her. “Excellent. You can be here after school in detention.”

  “Totally worth it,” Nessie hissed from the corner of her mouth once Mrs. Pang’s back turned.

  I personally couldn’t justify anything being worth detention, but then I wasn’t Vanessa Chaves, collector of detention slips. I think she secretly had a detention fetish.

  After school, I bypassed the bus and hoofed the three blocks to work. Angel Fuller, Mr. Fuller’s nephew, stood at the counter, filling ketchup bottles. Eyes the soft hazel green of a forest splintered by sunlight lifted and met mine.

  He grinned. “Hey, K!”

  I waved. “Hey, A!”

  It was such a stupid joke between us, the whole rhyming first initial thing, and I couldn’t tell you when it started, but it stuck so we went with it.

  “How was school?” Angel asked, as he screwed the cap on a bottle.

  I made my way around the counter towards the set of swinging doors in the back. “I got invited to a super hot party.”

  Angel perked. “No kidding! Good for you.”

  I snorted. “It’s only great if I wanted to go.”

  He shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Then don’t go.”

  “Can’t. My life apparently depends on it.”

  I pushed my way through the doors into the sweltering heat that was the kitchen. Jerod Ford, our cook, looked up when I trudged through. He wiped his hands on his apron, adding a smear of grease to the already stained fabric.

  “’sup white girl?” Jerod liked to think he was black. He wasn’t. He was as white as freshly fallen snow. But we all had dreams.

  “Hey, Jerod,” I called on my way to the staff area.

  I dressed quickly into my uniform, stored my bag into my cubby and joined Angel up front.

  “Boss wants the shelves scrubbed down,” Angel told me. “Can you do under the register? I’ll get the ones in the back.”

  I agreed, and took the rag he offered.

  It was reasonably empty considering school just let out, but the evening rush would start soon so we always tried to clean as much as possible before closing. It cut back on us having to stay late. Kneeling, I began pulling everything out from the shelves beneath the register.

  “Hello? Excuse me?”

  “One sec!” I called and pushed everything to one side, out of the way. I got to my feet and positioned myself in front of the register. “Yes? How can I—”

  The words vaporized and became wisps of air escaping my throat. My jaw gaped. I knew it did. I could feel it. My eyes were round, wide with panic. They darted, a quick flicker, for an escape route and realized there was no graceful way of doing that. So I stood there rigid and panicked and totally freaked out on the inside as I stared into eyes the color of Bahamian waters. Coils of glossy, black hair tumbled over a prominent brow. There were hints of blue that kept flittering in and out of the strands, urging me to stare, to touch. My fingers trembled with the reckless desire to comb through all that beautiful mess. Mortified, I tried to focus on something else. I lowered my gaze and found myself tracing his sharp cheekbones, his rugged jaw and square chin. His lips were bowed, a sinful tilt that made me forget to breathe.

  I was so screwed.

  Okay, three things. One, boys like him never smile at girls like me. Two, boys like him did not reside in Mayferd unless they were kidnapped from Hollywood by one of the potato farmers, and three, of all the taco joints in the world, why did he have to walk into mine while I was wearing a dorky uniform? Life, you are such a bitch. Not that it mattered—observe point one.

  Across from me, unfazed, oblivious to the torment he was causing me, the boy I had never met before smiled at me with all the beauty and grace of an angel. Was it too late to duck back under the register?

  “Hey!”

  Crap. How did you do that thing where you opened your mouth and words came out?

  “Uh…” Nope. That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but it was a sound so I went with it. “Heeeeyyy, wus up?”

  I cringed. God I am such a loser. I dropped my gaze, letting the brim of my hat conceal the flush I could feel boiling beneath the paper thin skin on my face, turning it a very disturbing, and probably frightening, shade of red. I fidgeted with the bill, tucked stray strands of hair back around my ears, touching my tiny ponytail. Anything to keep from looking at him.

  I stared down at the neatly labeled keys in front of me. “What do you want?” I winced, squeezing my eyes closed tight. Wow. Way to be a loser, Valentines. “I mean, what can I get you?”

  He chuckled, the sound ridiculously sinful. “I’ll take the family package.”

  I punched it in quickly, never once looking up at him, hoping that if I worked quickly enough, he’d go away sooner. I gave him his total and turned towards the drink cooler on my left. So determined to be rid of him, I forgot about the mess around my feet. I kicked a steel container of ketchup packets. The thing scattered, knocking over the dispenser of napkins which in turn fell into the carton of straws, upending everything and making a world of noise. Cursing, I swooped down to salvage what I could, all the while relieved to have an excuse to be away from those paralyzing eyes.

  “What happened?” Angel ran out from the back, his eyes anxiously taking in the scene. Well, at least he hadn’t brought the baseball bat. That would have been really awkward.

  “It’s fine!” I muttered, scooping ketchup packets back into their bowl. “I had an accident. Can you…?” I gestured vaguely to the register, indicating he take over while I cowered like a total, well, coward, beneath the counter.

  This was quickly becoming a day I wanted to erase from history.

  Chapter II

  A Drive With The Devil

  “Have you decided?”

  It wasn’t so much the question that had the lump of tuna fish sandwich going down the wrong hole, but the figure who loomed over me in all her fashion model glory. Behind her, Barbie One and Barbie Two stood like backup singers in an all girls’ band. They matched, I also noticed. It was subtle. Barbie One had a blue handbag that matched Barbie Two’s shoes and both had peasant tops on that were different only because one had embroidery across the bodice and one didn’t. What I also noticed was that neither wore any of the colors Claudia did.

  Claudia, queen of the world, stood over me with the radiating powers of a goddess in her sleek, body fitting black ensemble. Her cascading mane of jet-black tumbled in curls down her slender back. It shimmered and looked perfect, reminding me of a shampoo commercial. Any moment I expected her to flick a coil and say something like, because I’m worth it! She didn’t.

  “Uh, what?” I gasped once I’d controlled my coughing fit. People were staring again. I wasn’t looking, but I felt their eyes burning holes into me. Twice in two days? Yeah, they weren’t stupid enough not to believe something was up.

  Claudia huffed. “My invitation! Did you lose my card?”

  “No!” I said quickly when she began rummaging inside her pencil case of a bag. “I still have it. Thanks. I framed it.” I so hadn’t. I truthfully had no idea what I’d done with the thing, but it made her stop searching.

  “Oh,” she said, like it made sense. “Well, have you decided? It’s rude not to have RSVP’d already.”

  “Is that tuna?” Barbie Two wrinkled her pretty nose.

  I looked down at the sandwich I still held. “And lettuce.”

  “Ew!” Her squeak almost made me laugh. Just for her, I took a giant bite, which, I had to admit, was kind of gross.

  Barbie One and Barbie Two made disgusted noises and looked away. My mouth curved around the massive bi
te in my mouth and I snickered only to let it trail off when I caught Claudia’s flat, unimpressed stare. Swallowing became a challenge without dying.

  “Well?” she pressed.

  God, I swear I will never rescue anyone ever again for as long as I live if you just get me out of this!

  “Fine!” I growled when it became apparent that no divine intervention was about to take place. I tossed my sandwich down and scowled at it. Stupid thing. Why couldn’t it repel Claudia as easily as her crones? “I’ll go to your stupid party.”

  “Stupid?” Barbie Two gasped. “They are like the coolest—”

  Claudia put her manicured hand up, silencing the tirade. “Excellent. Be there for eight. That’s when the fun begins. Oh, and wear something nice.”

  “Yeah!” Barbie One jumped on that. “No ugly sweaters.”

  That did it. No one talked about my sweaters and got away with it! I opened my mouth, fully prepared to slam her pretty face—verbally, of course—into the ground.

  “It’s a masquerade type of party, is what Leanna is trying to say,” Claudia intervened smoothly.

  So Barbie One was Leanna. It was good to know what to put on her tombstone when I killed her.

  “So wear a costume with a mask,” Claudia finished, because that point hadn’t been made clear with masquerade.

  “But not an angel!” Leanna said with a hint of panic.

  “Yeah!” Barbie Two piped in. “Or a devil, because that’s our costumes.”

  Wow. Cliché much?

  “Don’t worry. I’ll steer clear.”

  That seemed to satisfy them. The three smiled. I waited for a burst of angelic harp music or glittery lights. Nothing cool ever happened around me.

  “See you at eight.”

  Then, they flounced away and I was left alone at my table. I already regretted my decision and the beauty queens hadn’t even left the cafeteria.

  “You’re helping me come up with a costume since this brilliant idea was all yours,” I told Nessie during Bio later.

  “Oh yay! I love costume parties. You should go as Cleopatra.” Of course, because I was gorgeous, Egyptian and could carry off wearing an Egyptian dress. Made sense.