that to come out so loud. I just realized . . . you’re Karaoke Girl.”
“What?” Teddy asked, her warm maple syrup voice suddenly high and squeaky.
“Wait,” Gretel said, disappointment on her face. “Don’t tell me you guys know each other. Ugh. Teddy, you can do better.”
“This is blatant disrespect and I’m going to take you home,” Everett told Gretel, and then to Teddy, “You were at karaoke that night, weren’t you? You sang ‘We Belong’ and then told me you had to throw up?”
“Um . . . ,” she said, glancing toward her coworker, who was now openly watching them and ignoring the customer in front of him.
“Oh. No. Sorry. I mean . . . that probably wasn’t you. Just . . . some other girl who looked a little bit like you, but now that I . . .” He squinted and tilted his head. “Yeah, now that I look at you, I can see that I’m wrong. Clearly not you.”
Teddy sighed and, with a little laugh, said, “Okay, okay, okay! It was me. I’m Karaoke Puke Girl.”
“Oh.” Everett felt a smile spread across his face.
“Not my best night,” she said, still looking at him from underneath that mask.
“It was . . . actually not that bad for me, now that I’m thinking about it,” Everett said, leaning against the counter. Behind him, someone cleared their throat. Everett turned around to see an impatient SpongeBob SquarePants staring at him. Quietly, Everett said, “Listen, SpongeBob, can you give me a second? Long story but I’m reconnecting with someone.”
“I don’t care,” SpongeBob said, but Everett didn’t hear him, because in the process of turning around, he’d noticed that Gretel was no longer standing beside him.
“Oh, no. Gretel?”
Teddy frowned and peered around the store. “She was just here.”
“Shit,” Everett said, glancing between the front door and Teddy. “I have to go find her but I . . . um . . . I’ll see you later, okay?”
He ran toward the front of the shop, heart pounding, wondering where Gretel could’ve gone. As he opened the door, he heard a woman say, “Theodora, could I bother you to refill the toilet paper? I think someone took it—one can only assume to use as a makeshift mummy costume.”
Everett stopped, the door half open. Theodora. Teddy. Teddy could have been short for Theodora, couldn’t it? And how many Theodoras were there, really? Non-elderly Theodoras, that is.
He turned slowly to look at her and found her staring at him, mouth in a perfect “O,” looking as if he’d caught her doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.
“It’s you,” he said, too quietly for her to hear.
“What?” the older woman asked. “Did that guy steal something?”
“Uh, excuse me,” said one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Everett realized he was blocking the door. And then he remembered that he had no idea where Gretel had gone. Damn those tiny fast legs!
“Shit,” he muttered, and then, to the TMNT, “Sorry, Raphael.” He ran out into the street, looking for his twelve-year-old sister, lost among the crowd.
“I’m Michelangelo,” the TMNT called, offended, but Everett barely heard him.
34
“Oh, no, Josie. Oh, no,” Teddy said.
“Seriously, what’s going on over here?” Josie said, a smile plastered on her face for the customer who was buying a puzzle. “Who was that guy? He was cute. Like Mr. Rogers but, you know, sexy.”
Teddy groaned. “That’s my pen pal. Everett St. James. Apparently he’s Gretel’s brother.”
Josie whistled—actually whistled—and said, “Well, damn, Theodora. I don’t know why you’re not chasing after him.”
“Because I don’t want him to know who I am!” Teddy sputtered frantically. “We had a perfectly charming conversation, and oh, he’s so cute, but at no point did I mention that we’ve been emailing for weeks. At no point was I like ‘Oh, by the way, I know your full romantic history and you’ve seen a terrible painting I made of Shaq.’ And also I’ve been building a friendship with his little sister, so he’s going to think I’m some sort of stalker even though that was entirely coincidental! Our emails are keeping me going right now, and now he knows how weird I am and he’s going to stop emailing me! I was dumped by half of a latex-wearing crime-fighting duo! I have so little to look forward to, Josie!”
Teddy stopped, panting.
Josie’s eyes traveled over Teddy’s face. “Why don’t you go home for the night, sweetie?”
“Tonight?” Teddy balked. “But it’s HighBall! This is one of our busiest nights!”