Famous Last Words (20 page)

I’m about to react to what he just said when I catch a glimpse of the front-page headline, and my mood goes from annoyed to outraged.
MOTORCYCLE GRANDMA HITS THE ROAD.
Underneath is a photo of Tessie, the Harley-riding, Avon-selling woman I met at the deli, sitting on her pink Hog. The byline underneath the photo? Tony Roma.

“That a-hole stole my story!” I scream. Harry, Alice, Rocco, and Jack all stop what they’re doing and stare at me. Without thinking, I grab the paper away from AJ.

“Sam,” AJ says softly. “What up with the ’tude?”

I point to the front page. “This story? The motorcycle grandma?” I whisper-scream. “
I
told Tony weeks ago that I wanted to ask Jack about doing a profile on her. I just … haven’t gotten to it. But that’s not the point. The only reason he even knew about her was because of me.”

“Let me remind you, Coma Boy’s a douche bag. I said it from day one.”

At that point, Harry rolls himself backward in his chair and stops at the obit desk.

“Everything all right over here, D’Angelo?”

“Yes,” I say. I’m no tattletale.

“Just checking,” he says, and rolls himself back.

I want to cry, but no way will I let that happen. That jerk’s not going to make me embarrass myself again. I know I don’t have to prove that I’m a better writer and reporter than Pretty Boy, but I’m going to. I reach into my bag to pull out a pair of rubber gloves and Clorox wipes.

“I’m going to work on the library.” I tell AJ. “I need time alone, to think.”

“About what?”

“Stuff.” That’s what I say out loud to AJ, but what I’m really thinking is,
Revenge
. Tony’s lucky he’s still on vacation.

*   *   *

By Monday, I’m still not over Tony stealing my story, but I’m feeling better. A weekend off is just what I needed. I’ve come to my senses about putting itching powder all over Tony’s desk chair and Krazy Gluing his phone receiver to the base. Anyway, I don’t have time for negative energy. Michael’s coming back from vacation today, and he and Harry are going to decide what to do with Sy’s yearbook photo.

“I could go for Chinese today, Sam. Whataya think?” Jack says.

I’m passing around lunch menus while I wait for Michael to arrive.

“Sure,” I say. “AJ can drive me over to pick it up when he gets here.”

Two more weeks and I’ll be able to drive myself. AJ will be relieved. I’m about to spread the word that I’m taking orders from Sunny Garden when I turn around and see Shelby standing right next to me. I stifle a gasp.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Nice to see you, too,” she says. “My mom dropped me off. I thought we could do lunch.”

“I can’t. I’m taking food orders, and AJ isn’t here to help. Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming?”

“Because you would have said you were too busy for lunch. Anyway, I wanted to see where you work. Come on, you must have time for a salad or something.”

“I told you, AJ isn’t here yet.”

“AJ has arrived,” I hear a voice behind me say, and turn to see a smiling AJ.

“Hi, I’m AJ,” he says, extending his hand.

“I’m Shelby. I came to take Sam out to lunch, but she says she’s too busy.”

“You should go,” AJ says. “Take a real lunch and get away from this place for once. You’ve earned it after last week.”

AJ is being nice. Shelby too. But her unexpected arrival is making me uptight.

“Okay, thanks,” I say. “I’ll be back soon.”

At this point, I just want Shelby out of the newsroom—my newsroom—as fast as humanly possible. It feels like those times when I was little and my mom or dad would show up early to pick me up from school.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing my bag and phone. “We can walk to the deli down the street.”

“Aren’t you going to show me around?” she asks.

“Look around,” I say, grabbing her by the shoulders and rotating her. “This is the newsroom. Pretty basic as newsrooms go.”

“Stop rushing me.”

“Let’s go,” I say, trying not to give away the urgency in my voice.

“Fine,” she says.

“Nice meeting you,” she says to AJ.

“Nice meeting you, too!” he says. I squint at him.

We cross the Nerf court to the side door and are about to make it safely outside when who should we run into but Tony Roma. Back from his vacation and sporting an Aruban tan so dark, he looks like a gleaming pair of blue eyes. My anger over the motorcycle grandma story resurges.

“Whoa! Sorry, Sam and friend,” he says, shifting his heavy laptop bag out of the way just before it body-checks me in the left hip.

“Hey, Tony,” I say, and keep moving.

“So, you’re the famous Tony,” I hear Shelby say behind me, and turn to see a grin on Tony’s face to rival AJ’s.

“I didn’t know I was so famous,” he says.

“I’m Shelby. I’m taking Sam to lunch.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “I’m glad you’re taking her out. She’s here almost as much as Harry.”

“Yeah, we should get going,” I say. “I don’t want to leave AJ by himself for too long.”

I’m holding the door open with my back, willing Shelby to move through it with her flip-flops, toe ring, and short shorts when Tony decides he has one more thing to add.

“Hey, Sam, you should bring Shelby to bar night sometime. If you girls don’t think hanging out with a bunch of old people is too boring.”

I’m stunned into silence. Inside, I am frantic to break the eye contact between Shelby and Tony and cover up the fact that I never told Shelby about bar nights.

“It sounds like fun,” Shelby says.

“You’ll have to ask Sam what she thinks about Wednesday nights at the Harp.”

“Okay, will do,” Shelby says.

Inside the stairwell, Shelby pinches my arm really hard.

“Bar night? You never told me you’ve been going to bars since you started working here. And here I was thinking you were just working late all those Wednesday nights. Some friend you are, keeping a bar that serves minors a secret.”

“I don’t know if the Harp & Bard serves minors,” I say, rubbing my arm. “And anyway, you know I don’t really like drinking.”

“Well, you know I do.”

“It’s no big deal, Shelby. Maybe you can come next time or something,” I say, hoping I don’t have to follow through.

The short walk to the deli makes me hot and cranky. I wanted Chinese food today. I wanted to eat my steamed vegetable dumplings in the conference room with Meg and Jack and AJ and Grace, just like I always do. Shelby’s intrusion is ruining my day.

“So, what’s the deal with AJ? Did you ever find out if he’s dating Jessica Palladino?”

“No,” I say. I remember Jessica being all flirty with AJ the weekend of the Fourth. AJ was smiling at her the way he smiled at Shelby just now.

“Why don’t you flat out ask him? Unless I’m wrong and you’re not interested in him. Are you?”

“Jessica hasn’t called the obit desk lately, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t something still going on there,” I say, maybe more to myself than Shelby. “I don’t want to pry.”

We arrive at the deli, and I pull open the door with its jangly sleigh bells.

“Hi, Sam,” John says from behind the counter. “Did you call in an order?”

“Hi, John. No, I’m eating here today with my friend. John, Shelby. Shelby, John.”

“Nice to meet you, Shelby.”

“Hi!” she says, giving him a cutesy wave.

We place our orders and sit at a table for two.

“So we’re going Wednesday, right?” Shelby asks as soon as we sit down. “My mother can drive. We can pick you up and go straight from work. And she won’t mind coming out late to pick us up—you know her. Or maybe Tony or AJ can give us a ride home.”

I grind my teeth and think of Tony’s demise.

Anthony “Tony” Roma
,
a competent feature writer known to everyone but himself as Coma Boy, died Monday. He was 19. Roma fell into a vegetative state (adding a prophetic effect to his secret nickname) shortly after returning from a ten-day vacation on Aruba, thus learning the hard way that, yes, there is such a thing as “too tan.”

chapter twenty-two

Crosswords

On Wednesday night, Shelby and I walk into the Harp & Bard. I’m wearing the clothes I wore to work, but I did apply makeup and took some extra time on my hair this morning in anticipation of the outing. I blew it out and am wearing it long. When I see Shelby in her turquoise halter top and denim miniskirt, however, I don’t know why I bothered. Even if I did look good this morning, eight hours in the newsroom has taken its toll on my appearance.

It never seemed like a good idea to bring Shelby to a bar night, and my fears are confirmed the second we set foot in the Harp. My high school life, like a deadly asteroid, is colliding with my newsroom world. I have been working with these people for weeks, and suddenly, it’s like Shelby’s assuming ownership. Without warning, she walks right up to Tony, who’s standing at the bar talking to Alexis, and says, “Remember me? I’m Sam’s friend.” I do admire her nerve; it’s something I never would have done. The dirty looks from Alexis don’t deter her.

“Who’s that?” I hear Harry ask Meg.

“Sam’s friend,” Meg says.

“
Really?
” Harry says, not bothering to hide his surprise.

I guess maybe we do look like an odd pair. I’m happy to see AJ over by the jukebox and walk in his direction.

“No practice tonight?” I ask.

“Our singer’s away.”

“I thought you’d have better things to do, like go out with your girlfriend or something.”

“You’re joking, right? I told you Jessica isn’t my girlfriend. She’s not even around anymore.”

Maybe I sensed this, but his confirmation seems important.

“Anyway, bar nights are lame. But a bar night with your wacky friend—this could be interesting.”

“You didn’t think she was so wacky when you met her on Monday,” I say, my jealousy rising as I remember his silly grin.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The next thing I know, Shelby is next to AJ and giving him a sideways hug!

“Hi, AJ,” she says.

“Hey,” AJ says back. Clearly uncomfortable. “I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want anything?”

Shelby opens her mouth and I cut in. “Nonalcoholic.”

“Oh,” Shelby says. “No thanks, then. I’ll ask Tony to get me something.”

WTF? “I’m going to get a Diet Coke,” I say. I follow AJ and expect Shelby to do the same, but she’s beelineing for Tony again, like a riptide I can’t control. Is this about scoring beer or Tony? She knows how I kinda felt about him, until he stole my story.

Alexis is at the bar when we get there, holding out her money for the bartender. She looks in our direction and says, “It’s like Chuck E. Cheese’s in here tonight with all the kids around.” Bitch.

There’s a restless, uncomfortable energy in the room tonight. Or maybe it’s just me. I talk to Michael for a while and see what’s happening with the mayor, Sy Goldberg, and the yearbook picture.

“We’re deciding how and when to confront the mayor with the yearbook picture,” Michael says. “Absent any definitive evidence from city records, we’ve got to tell this story a different way and still make sure we’re covering our bases and not slandering anyone.”

“Got it,” I say distractedly.

Ordinarily, I’d be much more interested, but I’m torn between doing what I want to do and hovering over Shelby, who is now playing the vintage Ms. Pacman machine with Tony.

Twenty minutes later, I lose track of her completely. I’ve been sitting with Meg and Harry. Shelby came up to me a while ago and said she was going to the ladies’ room, but she should have been out by now. Looking around, I notice Tony is missing too, and more important, so is AJ. I push my chair away from the table and stand up while poor Meg is in midsentence.

“Are you okay?” Meg asks. “You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine,” I say. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

There are two stalls inside. One normal-size, and one wheelchair-accessible. Hesitantly, I peek under that latter one, half expecting to see two sets of feet, but the bathroom is empty. Is that how I picture my best friend? What’s wrong with me?

I’m walking out of the bathroom when I run into AJ.

“Hey, Sam. I was looking for you. I wanted—”

“Have you seen Shelby?”

“What? No. I wanted to ask you.…” He keeps talking, but I’m so focused on finding Shelby. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for Shelby.”

“She’s a big girl. She’s not lost.”

I scan the main barroom. It’s not very big, but I still don’t see her anywhere. I start walking away, and AJ touches my elbow lightly.

“Where are you going? I was trying to say something here.”

I relax my tense shoulders and make eye contact. “I’m sorry—you’re right. What were you saying?”

At that very moment, the back door swings open, and Shelby walks through, laughing, as Tony holds the door open for her.

“Where the hell were you?” It comes out angrier than I intended.

Shelby looks hurt. “I was just outside the door, talking to Tony.”

“Why couldn’t you talk in here?”

“It’s my fault,” Tony says. “I stepped outside to have a cigarette.”

“You smoke?” I ask.

“Only when I drink.”

“Speaking of which, I’m going to the bar,” Shelby says, and then she looks at me. “It that okay with you,
Mom
?”

“Fine,” I say, crossing my arms.

When I look up, AJ’s stance is mirroring my own. “What?” I snap.

He looks like I just slapped him. “Why are you so pissed at Shelby?”

“Because I couldn’t find her.”

“Is that why? Or is it because of who she was talking to when you did?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means why do you care if she talks to Coma Boy?”

“Why do
you
care if I care?” I say.

Our eyes connect, and we just stand there—deadlocked. Anyone watching us might think we’re having a moment, but I can read the anger in AJ’s eyes and feel the negative tension between us. Why is this happening? I don’t like him being mad at me, not tonight. Not ever.

He throws up his hands in disgust. “You know what? I don’t. In fact, I’m out of here.”