Quid Pro Quo

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Authors: Vicki Grant
Tags: Mystery, Young Adult, JUV000000
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one entry that showed up over and over again that I couldn’t get: “BC – Wtrfrnt.” Andy usually just left out the vowels in the words, so the last part was pretty easy to figure out. Wtrfrnt = Waterfront. I guessed she’d been meeting somebody at one of those fancy restaurants overlooking the harbor.
    Boy, did that make me mad. I’m eating Mr. Noodles for lunch every day while she’s out dining like a queen. Aren’t mothers supposed to look after their children first?
    Even while I was mad, though, I knew something was wrong with this picture. I just couldn’t see it: Andy eating out and not even bringing me back a doggie bag. Maybe this wasn’t about work either. Maybe this was a boyfriend. I knew she’d had a few over the years, but not because she’d ever admit it to me, that’s for sure. I’d catch some guy putting his arm around her, or some girlfriend of hers would let slip about Andy’s “big date,” and Andy would never talk to her again. If she was out having some romantic meal with some new love (barf), she wouldn’t bring me back a doggie bag, because she wouldn’t want me to know about it.
    Made sense.
    But who was the guy this time?
    B.C.
    B…C…
    B…
    C…
    I knew someone with those initials. I was sure of it. I ran through all the guys’ names I could think of that started with B.
    Bill. Blair. Brendan. Ben. Bert. Bart.
    Byron.
    Byron Cuvelier.
    B.C.

chapter
twenty

Statutory rape
    Former charge for sex with a minor
    I hadn’t slept in, like, thirty-six hours. I was so wired I didn’t think I’d ever sleep again, but that night I did. I just kind of passed out at the kitchen table. Maybe that’s why I had such a weird dream.
    Byron was my father, and I had a stump for my hand too, and we were living in this sort of tent thing that we had to keep moving all the time. Kendall lived with us too, I think, or he was around, anyway. He gave me this special skateboard that only had three wheels. I could do these amazing moves on it, but only because I was missing a hand. Andy was in the dream too, sort of. You know what dreams are like. I could hear her voice or smell her smoke or talk to her on the phone, but I could never actually see her. One time, I even had to wait outside the bathroom while she used it (our tent had a phone and bathroom, quite the camping experience), but somehow she slipped out without me noticing.
    The whole dream was like that. I wanted to see her—I’d go looking for her, I’d run after the sound of her voice—but I didn’t want to see her too. I knew she’d take away the skateboard, but that wasn’t what I was really afraid of.
    I was scared she was going to be mad at me when she found out Byron was my father.
    As if it was my fault.
    It sounds completely stupid now, but when I was dreaming, it was like it was really happening. I was freaked when I woke up. I could barely catch my breath.
    I looked around the kitchen for a long time, just telling myself it wasn’t real. That helped for a while, until I realized that reality was even worse than any dumb thing I could dream up.
    I thought about Byron and Andy having their little secret meetings at the waterfront. What were they thinking? Like they wouldn’t stick out there! Andy, in her Salvation Army specials, and the aging chick magnet trying to blend in with all those people in expensive business suits. If they wanted to keep their secret, why would they meet there?
    Because they were so in love they couldn’t think clearly.
    Oh, bleh.
    Kek.
    Ack. Ack. Ack.
    Gag.
    I practically barfed. It sort of made sense. I knew Andy acted like she hated Byron and wanted to get rid of him, but you know how weird people can be when they like someone.
    I couldn’t shake the idea that Byron was Andy’s boyfriend, and all those late-night arguments were just lovers’ spats. It was so gross

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