Was there any greater joy? I had no clue what I loved to do. I’d joined Mock Trial and Odyssey of the Mind because they were the only extracurriculars available for ambitious kids at our sports-obsessed high school. There were usually two such achievers in every grade—maybe three in banner year—and these eight-to-ten freshmen through seniors met the minimum requirement for fielding teams in competitions. Troy and I were the best and the brightest Pineville High had to offer. Our coupling was inevitable, because what other options did we have?
At least one, as it turned out.
At least one un-housebroken, crunchy-haired option.
“Isn’t that Slade over there?” Drea asked.
All at once, I was reminded in the worst possible way that I’d had options too.
“Nonononono!”
The correct answer, obviously, was yes.
Four days had gone by since our disastrous hookup, but I hadn’t gotten any closer to confronting him. Avoidance was far easier. So I leapt behind a marble column that served no structural purpose but met my need for hiding—and spying—quite nicely. If I peeked, I had a clear view of Slade leaning on the wall by the pay phone. He was plugged into his Walkman as if passing the time as he waited for a call. I’d bet our buried treasure he was listening to Bob Marley’s Legend. Greatest hits reggae was so Slade. So cliché.
“Are you gonna rip him a new one or what?” Drea asked.
Drea went off on her enemies—I distinctly remember her announcing to a full cafeteria that a baseball player ex-boyfriend had a micropenis—but I wasn’t ballsy like Drea. And I never would be.
“What’s the point?” I replied. “It’s Slade’s word against mine. And it just gives the rumor new life. Besides, I’m out of here…”
“In thirty-five days,” Drea said drily. “Yeah, I know…” Her attention returned to the pay phones. “Oh, look, he’s got company.”
It turned out that Slade wasn’t waiting for a phone call.
“Zoe?”
“Do you know her?” Drea asked.
“Yes,” I whispered, which was dumb because there was no way they could hear us at this distance. “I mean, no. Not really. She just kind of appears whenever I least expect it…”
I didn’t get to review all the times Ghost Girl had entered and exited my life like an apparition because at that moment she was removing a small baggie from her cloak—really, whatever garment she had on could only be called a cloak—and pressing it into Slade’s hand.
“It’s a drug deal!” Drea gasped.
For once it was comforting to know that Drea was as scandalized as I was.
Transaction completed, they peeled off in opposite directions. Slade toward the bathrooms. Zoe toward the food court. Just before she rounded the corner and out of sight, she stopped. She then very purposefully turned and caught the two of us peeking out from behind the decorative marble column.
“Eeep!” I yelped.
“Eeep!” Drea yelped.
We ducked, but it was already too late. Ghost Girl gave us a wink so cartoonishly exaggerated, it could’ve been seen from whatever otherworldly dimension she hailed from.
20
DAMAGED GOODS
Gia was pissed at us for leaving her alone in the store for two hours, but was less pissed when we finally returned.
Together.
“You two are lucky these clothes practically sell themselves,” Gia said, as she straightened a row of fringed caftans. “By the way, I had a nice talk with your mother after you took off.”
“You did?”
“Someone’s gotta give her the lowdown on the local divorcée scene,” Gia said. “I tell you, in that dress, your mother will be fighting them off left and right on Singles’ Night at Oceanside Tavern…”
I winced so forcefully, the next thing I knew I was getting crushed in one of Gia’s overempathetic hugs.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, hon,” Gia said. “I forgot that this is still fresh to you. I know this is hard to believe right now, but I promise you’ll all be better off…”
As Gia soothingly kneaded my shoulders, it suddenly struck me how maternal the gesture was, and yet not at all something Kathy would think to do for me herself.
I shook Gia off.
“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m out of here…”
Drea snorted just loud enough for me to avoid repeating myself.
In thirty-five days.
“Just try to be more supportive of your mother,” Gia urged. “Take it from me, it’s not easy starting over in your thirties.”
“My mom is in her forties.”
“Yikes.” Now it was Gia’s turn to wince.
“Well, maybe she should have thought about that before she and my dad decided not to be married anymore.”
Gia opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. She