pieces loose to frame my face. Exhaling, I
stared at my reflection in the mirror and manufactured a smile. All in all, I didn’t look too bad for a girl about to engage in a devastating fight with the love of her life.
The consequences of tonight’s fight only have to last a couple weeks,
I told myself.
Just until this whole Cheshvan mess blows over.
Besides, the fight wasn’t real. Patch had promised we’d find ways to meet. In secret moments and stolen glances. We’d just have to be extra careful.
“Nora!” my mom called up the stairs. “Vee’s here.”
“Wish me luck,” I murmured to my reflection, then grabbed my coat and scarf and flicked off the bedroom light.
“I want you home by nine,” my mom told me when I descended to the foyer. “No exceptions. It’s a school night.”
I kissed her on the cheek and hustled out the door.
Vee had the Neon’s windows rolled down, and her stereo was cranking out Rihanna. I dropped into the passenger seat and called over the music, “I’m surprised your mom let you
out on a school night.”
“She had to fly to Nebraska last night. Her uncle Marvin died, and they’re divvying up his estate. Aunt Henny is watching me.” Vee looked sideways, and her grin hinted at
mischief.
“Wasn’t your Aunt Henny in rehab a couple years ago?”
“That would be the one. Too bad it didn’t work out for her. She’s got a gallon of apple juice in the fridge, but it’s the most fermented apple juice I’ve ever taken
a swig of.”
“And your mom deemed her responsible enough to watch you?”
“Guess the prospect of getting some of Uncle Marvin’s money softened her up.”
We roared down Hawthorne, belting out the lyrics and dancing in our seats. I was antsy and nervous but thought it best to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.
The Devil’s Handbag was only moderately busy tonight, a decent crowd, but not standing room only. Vee and I slid into a booth, unloaded our coats and handbags, and ordered Cokes from a
waitress who swept past. I surreptitiously glanced around for Patch, but he hadn’t surfaced. I’d rehearsed my lines too many times to count, but my palms were still slick with sweat. I
wiped them on my thighs, wishing I were a better performer. Wishing I liked drama and attention.
“You don’t look so good,” Vee said.
I was about to quip that I was probably carsick from her lack of finesse at driving, when Vee’s eyes swiveled past me and her expression soured. “Oh heck no. Tell me that isn’t
Marcie Millar flirting with my man.”
I craned my neck toward the stage. Scott and the other members of Serpentine were onstage warming up for the show, while Marcie propped her elbows prettily on the stage, singling out Scott for
conversation.
“Your man?” I asked Vee.
“Soon to be. Same difference.”
“Marcie flirts with everyone. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Vee did some deep breathing that actually made her nostrils flare. Marcie, as if sensing Vee’s negative vibe like voodoo, looked our way. She gave us her best beauty pageant wave.
“Do something,” Vee told me. “Get her away from him.
Now.
”
I jumped up and strolled over to Marcie. On the way over, I worked up a smile. By the time I reached her, I was pretty sure it looked almost genuine. “Hey,” I told her.
“Oh, hey, Nora. I was just telling Scott how much I love indie music. Nobody in this town ever amounts to anything. I think it’s cool he’s trying to make it big.”
Scott winked at me. I had to shut my eyes briefly to keep from rolling them.
“So . . . ,” I drew out, struggling to fill the lapse in conversation. At Vee’s command, I’d come over here, but now what? I couldn’t just drag Marcie away from
Scott. And why was
I
the one over here playing referee? This was Vee’s business, not mine.
“Can we talk?” Marcie asked me, saving me from having to come up with a tactic on my own.
“Sure, I have a minute,” I said. “Why
stared at my reflection in the mirror and manufactured a smile. All in all, I didn’t look too bad for a girl about to engage in a devastating fight with the love of her life.
The consequences of tonight’s fight only have to last a couple weeks,
I told myself.
Just until this whole Cheshvan mess blows over.
Besides, the fight wasn’t real. Patch had promised we’d find ways to meet. In secret moments and stolen glances. We’d just have to be extra careful.
“Nora!” my mom called up the stairs. “Vee’s here.”
“Wish me luck,” I murmured to my reflection, then grabbed my coat and scarf and flicked off the bedroom light.
“I want you home by nine,” my mom told me when I descended to the foyer. “No exceptions. It’s a school night.”
I kissed her on the cheek and hustled out the door.
Vee had the Neon’s windows rolled down, and her stereo was cranking out Rihanna. I dropped into the passenger seat and called over the music, “I’m surprised your mom let you
out on a school night.”
“She had to fly to Nebraska last night. Her uncle Marvin died, and they’re divvying up his estate. Aunt Henny is watching me.” Vee looked sideways, and her grin hinted at
mischief.
“Wasn’t your Aunt Henny in rehab a couple years ago?”
“That would be the one. Too bad it didn’t work out for her. She’s got a gallon of apple juice in the fridge, but it’s the most fermented apple juice I’ve ever taken
a swig of.”
“And your mom deemed her responsible enough to watch you?”
“Guess the prospect of getting some of Uncle Marvin’s money softened her up.”
We roared down Hawthorne, belting out the lyrics and dancing in our seats. I was antsy and nervous but thought it best to act like nothing was out of the ordinary.
The Devil’s Handbag was only moderately busy tonight, a decent crowd, but not standing room only. Vee and I slid into a booth, unloaded our coats and handbags, and ordered Cokes from a
waitress who swept past. I surreptitiously glanced around for Patch, but he hadn’t surfaced. I’d rehearsed my lines too many times to count, but my palms were still slick with sweat. I
wiped them on my thighs, wishing I were a better performer. Wishing I liked drama and attention.
“You don’t look so good,” Vee said.
I was about to quip that I was probably carsick from her lack of finesse at driving, when Vee’s eyes swiveled past me and her expression soured. “Oh heck no. Tell me that isn’t
Marcie Millar flirting with my man.”
I craned my neck toward the stage. Scott and the other members of Serpentine were onstage warming up for the show, while Marcie propped her elbows prettily on the stage, singling out Scott for
conversation.
“Your man?” I asked Vee.
“Soon to be. Same difference.”
“Marcie flirts with everyone. I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Vee did some deep breathing that actually made her nostrils flare. Marcie, as if sensing Vee’s negative vibe like voodoo, looked our way. She gave us her best beauty pageant wave.
“Do something,” Vee told me. “Get her away from him.
Now.
”
I jumped up and strolled over to Marcie. On the way over, I worked up a smile. By the time I reached her, I was pretty sure it looked almost genuine. “Hey,” I told her.
“Oh, hey, Nora. I was just telling Scott how much I love indie music. Nobody in this town ever amounts to anything. I think it’s cool he’s trying to make it big.”
Scott winked at me. I had to shut my eyes briefly to keep from rolling them.
“So . . . ,” I drew out, struggling to fill the lapse in conversation. At Vee’s command, I’d come over here, but now what? I couldn’t just drag Marcie away from
Scott. And why was
I
the one over here playing referee? This was Vee’s business, not mine.
“Can we talk?” Marcie asked me, saving me from having to come up with a tactic on my own.
“Sure, I have a minute,” I said. “Why
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