wary. “I don’t know,” she said.
The Land Cruiser pulled forward and stopped in the midst of the washing crew.
Knowing what was coming, several students backed away from it.
Ralph stepped toward the front of the vehicle and opened up with the hose. The water shot out and exploded off the windshield. Spray flew. Brenda saw how it sparkled in the sunlight. She felt cold sprinkles on her legs.
Turning to Fran, she asked, “What do you say?”
“Huh?”
“Tonight,” she said, raising her voice. “Santa Monica.”
“That’d sure be pretty cool. Only thing is, my folks are supposed to pick me up at five.”
“Give them a call.”
“I guess I could. But I don’t think they’ll let me go anyway. I mean, you know.”
“Oh, do I ever.”
Ralph started circling the Land Cruiser with his hose.
“My parents,” Brenda said, “are so overprotective it hurts. Thing is, nobody has to know what we’re really up to. Just tell your folks that the whole group’s going out for pizza afterward. Tell them everyone’s going, and you don’t want to be the only one left out.”
Fran grinned. “You’re so devious, Brenda.”
“It’s one of my many charms.”
“If they let me do it, though, they’ll insist I be home by…like seven.”
“Tell them you’re invited over to my place afterward.”
“I hate to lie.”
“You are invited. That’s no lie. You can actually spend the night if you want to.”
“You mean for real?”
“Sure. It’d be a kick.”
“What about your parents?”
“I didn’t ask, but they wouldn’t have any problems with that. Half the time, they’re begging me to make friends and bring them over. They’re afraid I’ve got recluse potential.”
Fran laughed. “You do.”
Done with the preliminary hose-down, Ralph backed away from the Land Cruiser. “Have at it, gang,” he called.
Brenda hoisted her bucket of sudsy water. Flanked by Fran and Baxter, she moved in. Baxter carried a sponge in one hand, a stool in the other. As they reached the Cruiser, Baxter said, “Excuse me,” and plunged his sponge into Brenda’s bucket. Then he planted his stool on the pavement, stepped up and started to wash the vehicle’s roof. Brenda set the bucket down. She and Fran took out their sopping sponges and split up to wash the Cruiser’s side.
Baxter climbed down. He gave his sponge another dip. As water spilled out of it, he said to Brenda, “I’ve got a cell phone in my car.”
“Glad to hear it,” Brenda said.
His face went crimson. “No, I mean you can use it if you want. Fran can use it. What I mean is, I happened to hear you talking about…you know, tonight. I wasn’t trying to listen. It’s just that you were talking pretty loudly and I was just standing there, and…”
“That’s all right, Bax. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’m just saying she can use my phone. I mean, my car’s right here and everything.”
“Okay. I’ll ask her about it. Thanks.”
“Sure.” He flashed a wild, frightened smile, then dipped his sponge again and mounted his stool to resume washing the roof.
Brenda hurried over to Fran. Crouching beside her, she said, “Baxter says you can use his cell phone.”
“Huh?”
“To call your parents about tonight. He told me you can use the cell phone in his car.”
“Baxter?” She looked up at him.
“Yeah. He was eavesdropping on us.”
“Eavesdropping? Ha! You know why?”
“Why what?” Brenda asked.
“Why he was listening.”
“Sure I know.”
“Sure you do. You know everything.”
“Precisely,” Brenda said. “It’s one of my many charms. I’m legendary for—”
“So tell me.”
“I’m not big on quizzes.”
“That’s because you don’t know.”
“I do know.”
“Prove it.”
“Why do I have to prove it?”
“Ha! You don’t know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Wanta bet?” Fran asked. “Betcha five bucks you can’t tell me why he was listening.”
“No way. Betting’s for suckers.”
“You just don’t know.”
Smiling with exceeding sweetness, Brenda said, “Ah, but I do. He was listening because he’s madly in love with me.”
Fran beamed at her. “You do know everything.”
“Damn betcha, baby.”
Fran laughed. Then she knitted her eyebrows. “If it works out and we can really go, why don’t we ask Baxter to come along with us?”
“Get real.”
“Come on, Brenda.”
“He’s a twerp.”
“But he’s a nice twerp, and he’s crazy about you.”
“All the more reason not to ask him.”
“He’s got a car,” Fran pointed out.
“Hmm. Let me think about it.”
Chapter Thirty-nine
Jeff looked over his shoulder at the kitchen clock. Again. He’d been checking the clock ever since they sat down to drink their Pepsis. A while ago, he’d taken a break from his vigil to hurry outside. He’d returned with the empty glass and Pete’s copy of A Moveable Feast. Dropping into his chair, he’d