I HEAR THE BUBBLY BEETLE engine outside as I’m brushing on another coat of mascara. Maybe I’ve gone too far, but what the hell. Might as well give Mick a really nice view of what he’ll be missing. I’ve already decided this is not going to work, whatever this is. Even if he was flirting with me and meaning it today, it won’t matter in the long run. I’m a party girl and that’s all I plan on being until I’m old enough that I have to stop wearing underwire bras and thong underwear.
Teagan joins me in the bathroom and whistles as she takes in my reflection. “Damn, girl.” She looks down at her black dress. “I feel like a lumberjack now compared to you.”“Shut up. This dress is old.”“That dress should be illegal.” She stands next to me and leans forward so her face is just a few inches from the mirror. “Can you see my zit?” Turning left and right, her eyes never leave the spot below her bottom lip.“Yep. It’s like Saturn orbiting your chin.”Her head whips in my direction. “Seriously? You can see it?”I laugh hard enough to make my stomach burn. “No. But if you stare at it every time you go past a mirror it will be kind of hard to miss. Just relax. You used the green stuff first, right?”“Yes, jedi make-up master. I did what you told me before.”I sigh. No one appreciates all the time I’ve spent on Youtube watching makeup tutorials, not even the chicks with planetary pimples to hide. “You’re gorgeous. Go pick out my shoes, would you?”She snorts. “Yeah right. You mean go pick out the shoes you won’t wear.”“No, I’ll go with your choice this time, I promise.” “Lies. All lies,” Teagan says as she leaves the bathroom.I add a little blush to my cheeks. When Teagan is back, I glance at the first selection she brings for my approval or rejection. “Uh, no. I’m not eighty.” “Listen, these are your shoes, woman. If they’re old lady shoes, theyshouldn’t be in your closet in the first place.”“I can’t throw shoes out. I have a condition. And besides, they’re good for interviews at banks and accounting firms.”“Since when have you gone to one of those?”“Never. But someday I will and then I’ll be prepared.”“Fine.” She pulls out another pair from behind her back. “How about these?”I bite my inner cheek, thinking about how those will make my legs look.Then I shake my head. “Nope. Not enough calf action.”“Calf action?” She stares at the shoes, dangling them up in front of her face.“I need something that will show my calves off. I have good calves.” She nods. “You do have good calves. Can’t argue with that logic.” She
leaves once more and I take the minutes she’s gone to make sure every single one of my eyebrow hairs is where it should be.My eyebrows are famous. Women hate me for having eyebrows like I do. It’s a cross I bear willingly, because someday these eyebrows are going to snag me a hell of a husband. I arch one up, practicing one of my patented moves. I can communicate entire sentences with these babies.“Okay, last choice before I retire from this lame job.” Teagan shakes a pair of Jimmy Choo knock-offs at me. “Calf busters. Thigh flexers. Butt lifters.You cannot go wrong with these suckers.”I snag them out of her hand. “You must be high. How am I supposed to twerk it out with those on?”Teagan rolls her eyes. “What … you’re going to start licking sledgehammers now, too? Shall I get the foam finger from your dad’s closet?”“Maybe,” I say as I go into my room. “Do you think it’ll fit in my purse?”She ignores the question because we both know I’d no sooner foam-finger myself than I’d twerk my ass up against a complete stranger. Twerking is for skanks, and I ain’t no skank.I pull out Old Faithfuls, the shoes that have never failed to get me all the free drinks I’ve ever wanted. I will be a dancing fool with these bitches on.Gravity has zero effect on my butt cheeks when I wear these.“Now these are shoes,” I say. “Learn well, my little tadpole, and someday you will be an awesome man-killer like me.”“Whatever you say, Yoda-of-shoes.” She bounces down onto my bed. “So, you excited about seeing Mick? He’s going to be there, you know.” Since Jersey came into my room and refused to leave before I could give her any of the scoop on Mick, she has no idea that I’m totally sweating her boyfriend’s brother. I’m not even sure I want to say anything to her about it now. It seems silly. I’m definitely PMSing. She’d understand, but she’s already got so much shit going on, I don’t want to burden her with my stupid stuff. I decide to act like there’s nothing to talk about. Besides, there really isn’t. I’m putting a stop to it tonight. My eyebrows will end this for me; I won’t even have to say a word, and Mick will know it’s over before it even began.“Come on,” I say, grabbing my tiny purse. “We can talk about all the fun stuff in the car.” I breeze past the family room where my parents are on the couch watching a movie. “Later, couch potaters!” I call out over my shoulder.“Not too late!” my father calls out after me.“Yeah, right,” I say under my breath. Curfews are for slackers. I consider any night I’m in before two in the morning to be a complete fail.ON THE WAY TO THE club in Teagan’s car, I finally get around to asking her about her life. It should have been the first thing I talked about when she walked in my door thirty minutes ago, but I was too wrapped up in worries about what Mick would think about my outfit to think straight. I’m going to blame him for my messed up priorities.“So, what happened at the lawyer’s office?” I ask.“Oh, shit! I forgot to tell you!” She whacks me on the arm. “They loved your stuff! Said it was awesome.”“Really?” I warm with the compliment. “Seriously?” “Yes. They wanted to know what firm you worked for.” “No shit.” My jaw won’t close.“No shit, I swear.”“Man, that is so cool,” I say, picturing myself with a trophy or a medal. “I’m the stuff. The shizzle stick. I should be on Oprah. Except she doesn’t have a show anymore, that wench.”“Yes, you are, and you should. When I told them you didn’t work for a firm yet, they said when you do work for one to let them know. Also they said if you want som
AS WE GET TO THE dance floor, the beat changes and turns into something almost dangerous. If there are vampires here tonight, this is the song they’ll dance to, and since I’m a Mick St. John fan from way back, I consider this a good thing. I scan the crowd for men with pale faces as my body easily downshifts into the new rhythm. Teagan and I make our way to the center of the floor where we find a small pocket of space to get our groove on.Within seconds we’re approached by a couple of guys who dance in our personal space wearing jeans that show way too much testicle. I don’t even bother with the eyebrows. I turn sideways and ignore the one closest to me completely. A few seconds later he’s moved on to his next conquest. I say a prayer that the poor girl’s beer goggles aren’t on and totally fogged up.Teagan’s doing the same avoidance thing, but her wannabe date isn’t taking the hint so well. She sends up a silent SOS in the form of crossed eyes at me, so I put my arms over her should
“That’s your name, though. Your mom told me so.” He grins like he’s the king of the world. Like none of this is affecting him and I’m just some plaything he’s enjoying batting around.“Hey buddy, why don’t you go find another girl?” says Mark. “This one’s taken.”I frown, not sure how I feel about being in the middle of a cock fight. I do want Mick to go away, but only so I can get my stomach and brain back online.“I don’t think so,” says Mick, his shoulders going back a little.He’s fighting for me? What? What does that mean?!“Well, I do,” says Mark, drawing up to his full height. He’s got about four inches on Mick, at least.“Hey!” I yell, deciding then and there that I don’t appreciate being treated like a piece of meat. “Why don’t both of you back the hell off?” I turn and leave the dance floor, headed to the front door. I need to get some fresh air before I do something stupid.I finally get through the throngs of people hanging out in groups between the dance floor and the ent
TEAGAN’S CRYING SILENTLY AS SHE drives down the street like a bat out of hell.“Where are we going?” I ask, not wanting to push her but also not real crazy about the direction we’re going.“Away,” she says, her voice wavering as she works to hold in a sob. “Away tooooooo … crack-whores-ville?”“Yes.” She shifts to a higher gear and presses the accelerator harder. “Okaaaay.” I pause as I consider my next words. I’m not sure that this isthe best time to engage her in a conversation about what Olga said or did. “How about you pull into that Denny’s over there and we talk in the parking lot?”“I hate Denny’s. I’m not going there.”“You don’t have to eat. Just pull in.” I reach over and nudge the steering wheel.She huffs out an annoyed breath, but downshifts and swings the car into the lot. I have to brace myself against the door and dashboard to keep from being unseated.“Wow. Been practicing stunt driving long?” I ask, trying to lighten the mood.“Shut up,” she says, rolling towards a
WE PULL INTO THE PARKING lot of Rebel Wheels as the door to the main office flies open. A girl with long black hair comes storming out, and Teagan barely misses running her over.She screams in surprise and then glares at us through the windshield. “Watch where you’re going, you crazy bitch!” she screams.Teagan yanks her emergency brake up in one quick pull and throws open the door. “I know you didn’t just call me a crazy bitch.”The girl with the hair is no dummy. Even I’m scared at Teagan’s tone. She takes one look at my BFF’s angry expression and hightails it over to her white BMW. She’s in with the doors locked before Teagan even makes it around her Beetle.“That’s right!” Teagan yells at the back of the car as it roars past us. “You better run!”I look at Teagan and start laughing. Her hair is all over the place and one of her boobs is almost out of her dress.“What are you laughing at?” she says.“I’m not sure, but I think I’m looking at a very angry hooker.” I point to her che
THE PLACE IS A DISASTER. I stop in the entrance and take it all in. Dirty dishes cover the coffee table in front of the television. Clothing is draped over all the furniture, most of it way past the stage of needing a washing as far as I can tell. There are art canvasses of different sizes leaning in stacks against the walls and what I guess to be an easel in the corner of the room nearest the windows with a sheet draped over the painting that’s underneath. Paintbrushes are standing in old coffee cans on the windowsill and there are multi-colored paint spatters all over the tarp that’s on the ground and even the walls nearby. It smells like a paint store in here.I could have sworn Teagan told me that she’d been in here before, but she never mentioned any of this to me. I make a mental note to discuss this with her, because if her powers of observation somehow missed all of this, I’m going to recommend she get a brain scan of some sort.“You want something to drink?” he asks, moving o
I’M WALKING DOWN THE STREET wondering how long it’ll be before someone either pulls over and offers me a fiver for a BJ or shoots me in the back.Apparently, not long.A car slows down next to me and I squeak with fright, jumping off the sidewalk and into the weeds. A man’s voice comes at me as I kick at the soggy cardboard boxes that are tangling themselves around my feet.“Hey, sexy. Need a ride?”I spin around, grabbing my purse to keep it close and ready to let loose a string of nasty cuss words, when I recognize the car. It’s a bright red mustang, one I’ve seen parked at Rebel’s place before. Mick is in the driver’s seat.“Go away,” I say, getting my breath back and stepping onto the sidewalk.I walk as fast as I can in my heels.He drives along slowly next to me, his arm hanging out of the window and hugging the side of the car. “Come on, Quinlan, don’t make me beg.” He’s laughing at me, I can tell by the tone of his voice.“I don’t see what’s so funny. And stop calling me Quinl
MY MOM STICKS HER HEAD in the door to my room. I can see her through a crack in my covers. “Teagan’s here, sweetie. She brought you lunch.”I close the crack made by my bedspread so I can’t see her happy face anymore. “Tell her I have ebola virus and to stay away.”I hear some whispering that includes Teagan’s voice. The door to my bedroom shuts.“Get up, you skanky ho. I have Taco Bell,” she says.I peek out of my covers. I have always been unable to resist the siren song of The Bell, and she knows it. I’d pretty much dive into a pool full of oh-my- god-those-are-not-Baby-Ruths for home-delivered Taco Bell. Dammit. Teagan has brought out the big guns.The fact that she barely has any money to her name tells me how far she’s willing to go for me right now. I resign myself to the fact that I have to respect that kind of dedication and eat every crumb of whatever she’s brought me.That’s what friends do for friends. I will just have to sacrifice. “What kind of Taco Bell?” I say.“Do you