giddy. "Did you see their faces?"
"Yes, I saw."
"You did?" She pouted playfully, finished tucking, and handed him his jacket. "You mean you weren't too busy checking out the merchandise?"
He shook his head, but she could have sworn she saw him hide a grin. Why was he so damn scared of smiling? "You are a piece of work. Get in your car, I'll see you home."
"You don't want to come home with me?" She danced around in front of him, walked backward while he kept coming.
"No, I don't."
"Aw, c'mon, Mike." She stopped his stride with her hands on his nicely muscled forearms and dragged them around her waist, knowing he'd never agree and having too much fun to care. "We could have a most excellent evening."
"Sorry." He pulled his nicely muscled arms away and kept walking, saying a calm good evening to a blond man staring.
"Oh, right." She followed him and winked at the man, who frowned and turned away. "You've got hot tuna waiting."
An incredulous glance. "Come again?"
"A virgin miss came by to drop a covered dish at your house." Vivian unlocked her door and yanked it open. "She's probably still there, waiting hopefully on your front steps. Little sweater thrown over her shoulders to ward off the chill. Shiver, shiver, Mike, warm me up?"
He tightened his lips and looked away. "The ladies of this town seem to think I need regular feeding."
"The ladies of this town are trying to score a big fat Mike wedding."
He rolled his eyes and pushed her into her seat, closed the door. She opened the window, fumbled in her purse, and handed him money for her whiskey. "I didn't mean you to get stuck with my tab."
"No problem." He took the bills and pushed them into his jeans pocket.
"No, come here." She beckoned him closer. "I want to say something."
He leaned forward reluctantly. "I doubt I want to hear this."
"You do." She looked into his eyes, darkened by twilight, then changed her mind and stared out her windshield. "Thanks for tonight."
"What did I do?"
"You helped me out."
Mike gave a snort of laughter. "I think you did fine on your own."
"Yeah, but I was . . ." She put her hand to her forehead. What? Fucked with grief? Out of her mind? Why would he care?
She put the hand down. Gave him a sultry sideways look and straightened her shoulders so her chest stuck out. "It's like I always say, Mike. Tits are power."
He shook his head and took a step away from the car. "I hate to break it to you, Vivian, but tits are just tits. Even yours. Good night."
She laughed, not sure why that was funny, or if it was funny, and watched him walk to his car, start the engine, and wait for her to pull out ahead. She drove slowly back to her weird old -lady house in the weird, silent, beautiful neighborhood, liking the sight of his lights in her rearview mirror, liking the idea someone was there for her even for a few minutes—someone she didn't have to pay to be on her side.
Six
Excerpt from Erin's journal
Eleventh grade
November 6—Something weird happened today after school. Jennifer was teasing me about what I was wearing. Like my dad would pay for cool clothes? Right. So I was walking home, feeling sick and angry like usual. And then this kid, Joe, pulls up next to me on his bicycle and keeps riding while I'm walking, even though he almost falls off trying to go so slowly. I fi gure he's going to make fun of me, too. But he just starts talking. He says Jennifer is a bitch (tell me something I don't know), and then he says he noticed me this year.
At first I'm even more angry. I mean I've been at that school since kindergarten and everyone knows I'm the weird one who has fits. All I'll say about that is they don't know what it's like being me. So they should shut up and leave me alone.
But then Joe keeps talking to me and then he says again he noticed me this year. This time he gets off his bike and tries to touch me. I do not
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