Brooklyn Girls (23 page)

After paying, I head back outside to Coco, hiding in a doorway down the street.

“Hey, presto,” I say.

“You’re so brave!” She takes the bag like it contains a bomb. “I bet nothing ever scares you.”

“Let’s get breakfast. You shouldn’t take this on an empty stomach.”

“Will it make me throw up?”

I think back to the first time I took it, and the ensuing foamy vomiting storm. The boarding mistress, an evil bitch named Mrs. Ellis, thought I was bulimic or on drugs. She would have really freaked had she known the truth. “Maybe.”

“Oh, God, smell that.… I haven’t had one in years,” she says longingly as we walk past a Dunkin’ Donuts. “So fattening.”

I grab her arm and we march in. “You can do whatever you want today.”

“Isn’t this against the rules of SkinnyWheels, or something?”

“Everything is fine in moderation. The point of SkinnyWheels is not to be extreme in any direction,” I remind her. “It’s about choice, and balance, and— Hi! I’ll have two large caramel Coolattas and one of those pink frosted doughnuts for me, please, and—Miss Coco?”

“A Bavarian kreme,” she says instantly.

“And we’ll also get … you know what, I’ll get a mixed dozen to go, and then five of those chocolate chip cookies.” I turn to Coco. “A little birthday hangover surprise for Jules.”

“She has such a sweet tooth, just like me,” says Coco.

“Sweetness means love, isn’t that what you guys always say?”

“That was our mom’s saying.” Coco shrugs.

As we leave Dunkin’ Donuts, Coco has something on her mind. She keeps clearing her throat as if to say something, then makes little “mmm” sounds instead. Finally, she spits it out: “When did you take the morning-after pill?”

“Uh, at college, twice. Just after one-night things … And once at boarding school.”

“You went to a lot of high schools, right?”

“I did,” I say. Suddenly, for the first time in my entire life, I feel like talking about it. Maybe hearing about someone else’s poor decision-making skills will make Coco feel better. “I was expelled twice. The first time was for cheating. I was too scared to go home to my parents with a bad report card, so I cheated on a math final and was caught. And the second time I was kicked out for, um, for coke.”

Coco is shocked. “You were a drug addict?”

I almost laugh. “No! I was stupid, that’s all. I was hanging out with seniors, my boyfriend Jack was kind of wild, you know, and everyone was doing it.… So I agreed to keep all the coke in my dorm room. He said since I was younger and new, they’d never search my room … but they did. And that was that.”

“That’s so unfair.”

“It was my fault. Wasn’t thinking about consequences.” I pause, lost in thought. “I hate the girl who did those things. Hate her.”

“Was Jack the guy you got the morning-after pill with? Was he your first?”

“My first what? Oh! No, that was Eddie. He went to my last boarding school. Eddie was my first—only—serious boyfriend. Jack was just using me for a bit of fun.”

“What happened with Eddie?”

“Dumped me.” I can’t bear to tell her all the details.

“Men are such cockmonkeys.”

“They can be.” Suddenly, I think about Mike. I slept with him and then basically ignored him. Just like Eric did to Coco. What does that make me?

“I don’t think you should have been expelled,” says Coco, linking her arm through mine. “You’re such a good person. One of the best people I know. I always feel better about things when I’m with you. They should have been proud to have you at their schools.”

I smile at her, my vision suddenly blurring. Goddamnit, the someone’s-being-nice-to-me tears strike again.

We pass Carroll Park. “Let’s go in here and sit down.”

“Okay!”

I have the feeling that no matter what I suggest, she’ll say “Okay!” in that cheery little voice.

“Well, all riiiiight,” says a Texan voice I recognize. Jonah! Sprawled out on the ground next to his bike and a Dunkin’ Donuts bag, wearing hot pink Crocs.

“Are you wearing those ironically?” I ask. “Because it’s not obvious enough.”

“They make my feet happy, princess,” he says, grinning up at me.

“You remember Coco, right?” I say.

“I sure do,” he says. “Miss Coco, you sit down here and let’s talk about doughnuts.”

Coco immediately drops to the ground next to him. Everyone seems to feel instantly at ease with Jonah. I wonder if it’s the Texan accent.

“Vanilla kreme with frosting?” He holds out his bag to Coco.

“I’ve got a Bavarian kreme,” she says happily. “I used to like vanilla kreme, too, but then…”

And off they go, chatting away about fillings and frostings. Closing my eyes, I turn my face up to feel the sun’s warmth. It’s shining so brightly, it feels like it could be midsummer instead of fall.

I finish my doughnut and tune back into the conversation. “… and then we went to karaoke, and then Pia came home and found someone trashed Toto!”

“No way,” Jonah says. “Man, that bites. Who would do that to you?”

“Yeah, who knows…” I say. I’m pretty sure it’s Bianca skank-face wreaking revenge for my revenge, but I’m not about to say that until I’m sure.

“One of my buddies has a pal who works in a body shop. I’ll call him, we can fix this.”

“It’s okay, I’m on it,” I say. “Just because I’m twenty-two and a girl doesn’t make me an idiot.”

“Really?” he says doubtfully. “I’m not so sure about that.” I throw a piece of doughnut at him and he catches it in his mouth. “Dude, I can take care of it for you.”

“Thanks, but I can take care of it for myself,” I say. “My business, my problem.”

“Hey! I’m still totally into that Bee Whisperer idea. You know, starting my own business, being my own boss.… When can you help me?”

“Anytime,” I say. “What have you done for it so far?”

“Uh … nothin’,” he says, laughing. “You know me, baby. I’m a laid-back kinda guy.”

“I think you have to be a little bit obsessive about starting your own business, Jonah,” I say. “No one’s going to make your dreams come true except you.”

Wow, that was pretty deep of me.

“That sounds like hard work,” says Jonah.

That’s exactly what I would have thought a few months ago. But I’ve been consumed with SkinnyWheels for weeks now. If I hadn’t been, it would never have gotten off the ground. And I’ve loved every minute. “It doesn’t feel like hard work when it’s your passion.”

Suddenly, and for maybe the first time ever, Jonah looks serious. “Well, the only passion I have is acting, dude.”

“Then that should be your focus. Okay, stick a fork in me, I’m done,” I say, standing up and brushing doughnut crumbs off my body. “Toto ain’t gonna fix herself.”

Jonah grins at me, and winks at Coco. “Later, alligators.”

Coco grabs my arm with glee as we leave Carroll Park. “He’s
cuuuute
!”

CHAPTER 19

“Morning, kids,” says Angie, walking into the living room.

“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,” says Julia. “You’re wearing sunglasses inside.”

“I know. I didn’t get home till six this morning. Oooh, doughnuts. Any double chocolate left?”

It’s Sunday afternoon and Coco, Julia, and I have been watching
E! News,
or as Coco simply calls it, “The News.”

“Look at that woman’s arms.
She
needs a fucking doughnut.”

“She looks like a praying mantis,” says Angie, her mouth full.

Jules shouts with laughter. “She does!”

“Shh, you guys,” says Coco. I’m trying not to think about Nicky coming over in a few hours, or how much Toto’s afternoon at the body shop cost, or Bianca trashing my truck, or Madeleine being annoyed at me again. But at least I’ve done all my prep for tomorrow’s SkinnyWheels work and updated my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

Instead, I’m thinking about Aidan, and last night’s cab ride. And Aidan’s smile, and his thighs, and his mouth, and his eyes, and his voice and hands and accent and the way he smirked when we flirted and—

Shut
up,
Pia. It doesn’t matter if Aidan liked me. He has a girlfriend. He’s out-of-bounds. Never fall for a guy who is taken. I make a lot of mistakes in life, but I never make that one.… To me, it’s the law. Well, a general rule, anyway. Guideline. Memo. Whatever. It’s a bad idea.

So why am I considering meeting him for that drink on Thursday?

My head keeps saying “stupid move” but my heart says “what has your head ever done for you, sweetie?” Anyway, is it your head or your heart you’re meant to trust? I can never remember.

The presenter is dramatically intoning about some starlet’s drug problem. “Is she headed for a complete meltdown?”

Coco turns to us, her eyes wide with excited importance. “She totally is!” Coco seems to be over her Plan B/Eric crisis from this morning, or maybe she’s just good at ignoring things she doesn’t want to think about, too.

“Oh, shit, I keep meaning to tell you guys. You have to pay rent today,” says Julia.

“Rent?” I repeat.

“Yeah, rent,” says Julia. Her voice is husky: she stayed out with Wilcox and Tad pretty late. No hookup, but she’s in a good mood anyway. I told you male attention has restorative qualities. “Dad says you and Angie didn’t transfer the money last week. But to make it easier, he suggested you could give me the eight fifty and I’ll give it to him tonight at my birthday dinner.”

“Uh…” How could I have forgotten something as important as rent?

“Just write a check.” She shrugs.

My stomach crunches with that all-too-familiar money fear. I can’t write a check, there isn’t that much in my account.

And I can’t pay rent as well as pay Cosmo.

Yesterday I had three thousand in cash in my hands! But then, after who even knows how many rounds of shots at the karaoke bar, a little personal celebratory beautification, one present for Julia, and one hugely expensive body shop visit for beat-up Toto later, and I only have thirteen hundred dollars left.

Rent is eight fifty.

And Cosmo’s payment is one thousand.

If I pay rent, I’ll only have four fifty left for Cosmo. If I pay Cosmo, I’ll only have three hundred for rent. I have to choose between paying Julia and paying my loan shark.

Merde
.

Angie takes nine hundred-dollar bills out of her purse and hands them to Julia.

“Just give me the change another time. Sorry I forgot to do the automatic-transfer thing. Can I pay in cash every month instead?”

“You carry nine hundred bucks around in cash? What are you, some kind of mafia don?” says Julia. “And I think my dad would rather we just paid automatically so he didn’t have to worry about it.” She frowns, scratching her boob. “Shit, I think there’s frosting in my bra.”

“I thought you owned Rookhaven,” says Angie.

“It’s in a trust for us. Dad takes care of the overheads and mortgage payments,” says Julia. “We inherit Rookhaven fifty-fifty when Coco turns twenty-one. Ow, you guys, I’m serious. My boob is really itchy.”

“Does it have to be tonight?” I say.

“Yes,” says Julia, one hand deep in her bra. “Dad’s taking Coco and me out for dinner for my birthday in a couple of hours.”

“Can I pay it later in the week?”

“Dude, it was due like ten days ago. You’ll have to pay it again in a few weeks, why not just get it out of the way?”

“Yeah, P, you must be loaded by now,” says Angie. “I’ve seen how much you make every day.”

“Most of that goes to buying produce and gas and stuff, um, but yeah, of course I am,” I say quickly. “One sec.”

I run upstairs, pull my cash shoebox out from under my bed, and take out eight fifty. Cosmo was a nice guy, I remind myself. He knows I’m good for it. I’ll just pay more next week. I can’t let Julia down.

For a second, I picture Nicky’s roid-charged arms and humorless shark eyes.

I feel dizzy.

Calm down, Pia. What’s he gonna do, beat me up? I mean, seriously! This is Brooklyn, not … wherever it is people get beaten up for overdue loans. Right?

I head back downstairs, give Jules the rent money, and then keep watching E!, mindlessly letting the shows wash over me like waves in the ocean. All I can think about is Nicky’s face when I tell him I’m not paying the full amount this week. Oh, God, on top of Toto, and Bianca’s revenge … everything is going wrong. Just when I thought I had it all figured out …

It’s fine! It’s fine. It’ll be fine. Probably. Right?

I hope the girls leave before Nicky comes over. I really don’t want them around when I’m talking to him, as the truth would have to come out, and borrowing ten thousand dollars from a loan shark just doesn’t look good. Though it honestly seemed like a logical choice—my only choice—at the time.

“So … what time are you meeting your dad?” I ask casually, flicking Coco’s hair to get her attention.

“We’re leaving in about twenty minutes,” she says.

I turn to Angie. “What are you doing tonight, ladybitch?”

“Heading to one of those brunchy party things in the Meatpacking. I was meant to meet some people at midday but you know, I was feeling all cozy here.”

“You’re six hours late for brunch?”

She shrugs. “They’ll still be there.”

“You better hurry,” I say, looking at my cell. It’s nearly ten past six. Cosmo’s henchman will be here in less than an hour.

“Since when are you my social secretary?” says Angie. “Why do you want me out of the house so badly?”

“I don’t. I’m, um, going upstairs.” I hate it when I’m obvious.

I head up to lie on my bed, sick with nerves. I try deep breathing to calm myself down. It doesn’t work.

Wait a minute!

Lightbulb-above-my-head moment!

I can sell Toto! For exactly what I paid for her! If I can do it today, I’ll pay all the money back tonight, I’ll have Cosmo off my back, and I’ll only have my parents to deal with!

My mind is racing. Al, the mechanic who runs the body shop where Toto’s currently being patched up, told me he just sold a food truck for $45,000. He buys them cheap, does them up, and sells them on.

I grab my cell.

“Al’s Auto.”

“Hey, it’s Pia? From earlier today? Uh, I was wondering … how much would you pay for Toto, I mean, for my truck?”