Leo listened to us as he straightened up the music room.
Sebastian asked him, “Where are you and Tiffani going tonight?”
“I’m going to a sushi place downtown,” he told us, fiddling with his guitar. Did his comment mean they weren’t together anymore?
None of us spoke, and the silence grew longer and longer as the three of us stood there uncomfortably. My thoughts were centered on Leo and his sushi plans and maybe-date with Tiffani; Sebastian was probably worried about my reaction to Leo, and who the hell knew what Leo was thinking.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. “I gotta go change. Can you pick me up in an hour?” I asked Sebastian.
He gave me a thumbs up. “Gotcha.”
“Great,” I said, gathering up my purse and sheet music.
“Have fun,” Leo said with a tight face as I walked by.
“Ditch your sushi plans and come with us,” I said stopping in front of him, biting my cheek at the words I hadn’t meant to say.
He stiffened, his eyes bouncing from me to Sebastian. “No can do. Already made plans.”
I nodded, and Sebastian walked me to the door. “Don’t let him bring you down, okay?”
“Love’s a bitch,” I said.
“Fuck you perfectionism. Without you, I am brilliant.”
–Coco J. Ginger
THERE WAS A crowd already at the door of Gilligan’s, so we had to stand in line to go inside. Apparently, every high school kid and college student had had the same idea we did.
“There’s Emma,” Sebastian said, surreptitiously pointing at a group a few feet in front of us. She was wearing stilettos, a purple mini skirt, and a sequined pink shirt. She and her crew were flirting with one of the bouncers who walked down the line checking IDs, and as we watched, Emma let out a girlish squeal at something one of them said.
“She’s kinda hot in a sleazy way,” Sebastian said with a shrug as his gaze ran over her. What the hell? I arched my brows and flicked a glance at Mila to see if she’d heard his betrayal. She was glaring at him like she wanted to smack him.
“Please, her life’s ambition is to star in a future 50 Cent video. And years from now, when I’m a doctor and rich, and she’s got herpes . . . maybe I’ll help her,” Mila said with a snort.
“Mila, if we were bros, I’d totally fistbump you right now,” I said, laughing. Mean Mila was funny.
“Do you think it keeps her up at night, thinking about her boyfriend screwing her best friend?” Sebastian asked.
“If it does, she doesn’t want anyone to know. She’s too proud,” I said, watching Emma. “She’s got secrets, too, just like everyone else.”
“Secrets or not, she looks like a normal bitch to me,” Mila piped in. “I got no sympathy for her. She’s been cruel and hateful to us both for years. Cry me a river.”
I snorted at the word normal. If you looked it up in the Webster’s Dictionary, you’d find twenty-two different meanings and two parts of speech. Hey, there’s even a town in the Midwest called Normal, Illinois, population approximately 52,772.
But all those meanings aside, to most people, normal means being average in everything: intelligence, looks, personality, and of course, emotional adjustment.
I am not normal, and I doubted Emma was.
Was it possible that Emma had her own dark secrets that made her the mean person she was? Yeah, sure, but I still didn’t like her.
Once we got inside, Sebastian was impressed with the interior of the club, which had a stage area for the bands and a dance floor. The owner had gone for an island theme with sharks and stingrays that swam through coral in a long fish tank behind the bar. We made a plan to talk to the owner soon about the band playing here.
We went to the bar. While he was ordering our sodas, my phone buzzed, and I saw it was Drew. He’d mentioned wanting to call me outside BA when Leo had been there, and he’d tried several times, but I hadn’t been ready to talk to him. Truthfully, I’d been more responsive to him in the parking lot than I’d intended. Most of that had been for Leo’s benefit.
--I didn’t see you at the debate meeting. I heard you quit. True?
I replied,
--Yes.
He texted,
--Why?
I typed out,
--Long story. I quit student council and yearbook too.
He wrote back,
--Interesting. Can you talk?
I looked around the busy club and wrote,
--No.
He texted,
--Are you wearing a green dress and a pair of sexy cowboy boots?
I wrote back,
--FYI, stalking is a crime in Texas.
He texted,
--It’s not stalking if you happen to be in the same place at the same time. Look behind you.
I turned around to see him standing at the entrance of the club, his smile directed at me. Not sure what else to do, I waved him over, and we all found a booth. Drew slid in beside Sebastian, and Mila sat beside me with raised brows. Yeah, she knew all about New York.
When the guys started talking about football at BA, she took her phone out. I knew what was coming.
She texted,
--I thought you were done with him. You gonna hit that again? I hear the girlfriend is gone for good.
I replied,
--Shut it, Mila.
She wrote,
--He’s got big hands. And feet. Wonder what else is big.
I texted,
--Your mouth.
She replied with,
--Don’t look, but he’s staring at you!