The Art of Lainey (6 page)

I wait until she swallows. “He kissed her.”

She gasps. “No way.”

“Yeah way.” Reality starts to set in for me. My life. My epic summer. It’s gone. It’s like I’m back in eighth grade, not making the soccer team. And this time it’s even worse because I didn’t mess anything up. I didn’t fall on my face at tryouts. I just . . . lost. I’m a loser.

I bite back tears. I will not freak out in the coffee shop again.

My dad strolls out from the back. “What’s this? Meeting of the minds?”

“Just girl talk.” I keep my voice light.

“Ah,” he says. “Covert ops. Carry on, ladies.” He makes a loop around the dining area, stopping to wipe down a few tables and ask a pair of college kids how their drinks taste. Then, satisfied that everyone seems content, he turns back toward the office.

Bee waits till my dad is out of sight. “You know what this means, right?”

That I’m a total loser?
“That Jason is an asshole?”

“Well, maybe. More like if you want him back you have to step up your game.” She pauses. “
Do
you want him back?”

I lower my voice. “I do. Is that terrible? We’ve spent the last two and a half years together, Bianca. I don’t even know who I would be without him.”

“You would be my amazing friend, Lainey,” Bee says vehemently. “The same person you’ve been since second grade. Seriously. You don’t need Jason to define you.”

“You don’t think? Remember how the soccer team joked that instead of ‘Mitchell,’ my jersey should say ‘Chase’s girlfriend,’ because that’s how everyone knows me.” I slouch forward in my chair. “It’s more than that, though. I can’t imagine my life without him. It’s like I try, but nothing makes sense. Everything was perfect, and now everything is crap. I need him back. I need everything to go back to the
way it was.”

Bee purses her lips together. I can tell she still doesn’t agree with me, but she’s not going to argue. “Okay,” she says. “Then we need a better plan.” She drums her fingernails on the table and stares off in the direction of the tribal masks.

They stare back. Grinning. Laughing at me.

Her eyes light up. “I’ve got it. Where’s your book?”

“
The Art of War
? I didn’t exactly think I would need that at Jason’s.” I wasn’t even planning on needing the muffins. I seriously thought after almost a whole week apart that Jay would miss me.
Dude, who is this Alex girl and what does she have that I don’t?

“I knew you were going to say that. Which is why I downloaded a copy onto my phone.” Bianca pulls out her cell and starts swiping the screen.

“I’m not sure I’m up for ancient Chinese literature right now.” I sink even farther down in my chair.

“Come on, Lainey. I know you. Strategizing will make you feel better.”

“Maybe.” I’m not convinced, but if I go home I’ll end up face-down on my bed crying, which definitely won’t make me feel better. “Okay, but I’m going to need ice cream for this.” Pushing back my chair, I head through the back dining area and around to the front. I slide behind the counter and help myself to a big scoop of Caramel Meltaway, loading it down with whipped cream and chocolate-covered espresso beans. I grab a spoon and head back to the table.

Bianca frowns at my monster-sized dessert. “Are you expecting company?”

I down a big spoonful of nothing but whipped cream. The airy consistency makes me cough. “Obviously not,” I say. “I’ll probably be alone forever.”

Instead of responding, Bee opens
The Art of War
, scrolls to Part IX, and sets her phone down in front of me.

“
‘The Army on the March’
?” I scoff. I skim a few passages. “So I’m not supposed to attack Jason in a river or a salt marsh?”

“Keep going.”

“Or from the bottom of a mountain?” I take a bite of ice cream.

“Exactly,” she says.

“Exactly what?”

“This whole section is basically saying you have to be on even ground to fight. Or better yet, you want to be the girl on the mountaintop. Think of it like in soccer. If the field isn’t level, it’s easier to score when moving downhill.”

“Oh, I get it. Jason is dating someone new so he has the upper hand, the better position.”

“All we have to do is find you a guy to date and you’ll be back on level ground.” She smiles. “Then Jason will see you, get jealous, and
voilá
—you’ll be the one on top.”

“A guy to date,” I repeat slowly. I feel like eating my way to the bottom of this bowl of ice cream and then getting a refill. I feel like crawling into bed, pulling my covers up over my head, and crying myself to sleep. What I
don’t feel
like
is finding a guy to date.

“Yes.” Bianca peers around Denali as if one of the college kids bent over their laptops is just going to turn around and volunteer.

“Wait,” I say. “What if the guy falls for me and gets all stalkerish, like when the Swedish exchange student got a crush on Kendall sophomore year?” I’m actually thinking more along the lines of what if I flirt with a guy and he blows me off and I get to experience that crushing rejection feeling all over again.

Bee slides the ice cream toward her, out of my reach.

“Get your own,” I whine, grabbing for the bowl.

“No. You are not doing this,” she informs me, her hand wrapped firmly around the base of the dish. “I’m not going to let you drown yourself in ice cream. Gaining ten pounds will not make you feel better.”

“Neither will dating some other guy,” I say. “Let me finish reading the book. Maybe it’ll give me a better idea.”

“All right,” Bee says. “You work tomorrow, right? We can talk more then.” She tucks her phone back into her purse and then gives me another quick hug. “Let’s get out of here before your dad puts us to work.”

As we head out the front door, Micah and the new guy, Leo, are strolling over from the parking lot. They look weird walking together: Micah and his mohawk, Leo and his baseball cap and polo shirt. Micah raises one hand in a half wave, and Leo mutters something that sounds like “Hiya.” They’re both smiling at Bee. Neither one of them
even glances in my direction. Normally it would not faze me that I’m being ignored by kitchen weirdos.

Today it does.

“Nice to know my Invisible Woman costume still works,” I mumble. I can’t remember the last time I felt this alone.

T
he next day, Bianca and I grab the table by the bookshelf again after we finish our shift.

“I ordered us a barbecued chicken pizza,” she says as I settle into the chair across from her. “I figured we could go through
The Art of War
together, break it down, make a list.” She’s already got the book open on her phone.

I slide up a third chair and prop my feet on it. “Show me the way, Warlord Woman.” I pull
The Art of War
out of my purse. “I read the second half last night. The part about exploiting enemy weaknesses made sense, but then there was some stuff about spies and alliances that doesn’t seem as helpful.”

“All right. Let’s brainstorm strategies,” she says.

I flip through several dog-eared pages, reading certain passages as Bianca makes notes.

I’m on Part VII, Maneuvering, when Ebony strolls out of
the back with our barbecued chicken pizza. She’s wearing camo pants, a black sleeveless tee, and a studded leather necklace that looks like a dog collar. I resist the urge to tell her that her head is looking particularly shiny today. She frowns at my feet as she sets the pizza and two plates in the middle of the table. “Try not to make a mess, okay?” Without waiting for a response she disappears into the back.

Snatching a chunk of chicken from the slice of pizza nearest to me, I flip to Part VIII, Variation in Tactics.
“‘There are five dangerous faults which may affect a general
,
’”
I say.
“‘Recklessness, cowardice, a hasty temper.’”
I pause.
“‘A delicacy of honor? Over-solicitude’?”

“Pride and excessive worry,” Bianca translates, helping herself to a slice of pizza. “Maybe not
exactly
what Sun Tzu was thinking, but close enough for our purposes. So we need to make sure you avoid all of those feelings while you’re utilizing the rest of these strategies.”

I nibble on another piece of chicken. “Those feelings probably make up 85 percent of any given day for me, especially lately.”

Bee blots her lips on her napkin. “No one ever said war was easy.”

We finish going through the last few parts and then I slide around to Bianca’s side of the table so I can see the list she’s compiled.

“It’s like a top ten list,” she says proudly. “Top ten ways to win back your ex-boyfriend.”

I read through the list again. “So what does all this mean for me and Jason?”

Bee takes a bite of pizza before answering. “We’re obviously planning your attack right now. Number two: Know your enemy. You know enough about Jason, but we need to learn more about this EMT girl.”

“EMT Girl. It’s like she’s a superhero. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

“What’s her name again?” Bee asks.

“According to Jay, his ride-along partners were a paramedic named Lance and an EMT named Alex. So unless he’s been lying to me for weeks, her name is Alex.”

“Do you know anything else about her?”

I see her walking out of Jay’s condo, her plain navy uniform hugging her curves, the sun shining brilliantly off her
scarlet ponytail. “Hair is fake. Boobs are probably fake.”

“Helpful,” Bianca says drily. “So she either works for the Hazelton fire department or Gateway Transport?”

“She works for Hazelton. I remember the ambulance from the day Jason broke up with me, and every other excruciating detail. I could tell you what color socks he had on.”

“So then we need to do a little research on the Hazelton FD.”

I dig into a slice of pizza while Bee goes a-googling on the local fire department website. Denali’s barbecue sauce is actually a mix of barbecue, powdered onions, and hot wing sauce. It’s delicious but after a few bites I’m fanning my mouth. “Find anything on her?” I ask. “X-rated blog? Slutty EMT calendar?”

Bee wrinkles her forehead in concentration. “There aren’t any first names on here. There’s a A. Malincheck. It says EMT-B, certification through Hazelton Community College.”

Jason told me it only takes one year to get EMT certified at the community college and two years to become a paramedic. That would mean Alex could be as young as nineteen. A nineteen-year-old girl and a seventeen-year-old guy? It’s weird, but within the realm of possibility. “Okay, so let’s say it’s her. Alex Malincheck. So what? What happens next?”

Bianca shakes her head. “I still can’t believe someone older is interested in Jason. He’s so immature.”

“You think? I always saw Jay as way more mature than
most of his friends.”

“Yeah, but that’s not saying much. Didn’t some of his friends get suspended for peeing in a girl’s Coke when they were selling refreshments at Homecoming?” Without waiting for a response, Bee goes back to her googling. “I can’t find her on any of the social networking sites,” she mutters. “I can’t even find a home address.”

“Gee, imagine how hard it must have been to find addresses back in the time of Dead Chinese Warlord,” I say. “How did he learn to know
his
enemy?”

“Sun Tzu,” Bianca corrects. “He probably enlisted the help of spies.”

Spies. Right. Strategy number ten.

“I bet we could get her fired.” I slide a second piece of pizza onto my plate. “She shouldn’t be hitting on the high school boys she’s supposed to be mentoring. Not to mention, if she’s nineteen, isn’t that technically illegal?”

Bianca’s dark eyes widen. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter because that would be really mean.”

“Meaner than stealing my boyfriend?”

“It would also be counterproductive,” Bee says. “Remember: we’re supposed to divide and conquer. If you get her fired, you’ll only unite them against you.”

I fan my mouth again. “Then what good does knowing anything about her do?”

“That depends on what we find out. I’ll handle the spying.” She smiles mischievously, clearly psyched at the idea.

“You?” I’m surprised. “I figured you’d find anything like
that to be inappropriate and criminal.”

Bee winks. “For you, Lainey Mitchell, I will sink deep into a life of crime.”

“Have I told you lately how amazing you are?” I ask. “Are you going to stalk her?”

“Yes, you have,” Bee says. “And
stalk
is a strong word.” She’s still grinning. “But you shouldn’t get involved. Jason might see you. It could blow your whole plan.”

I envision myself tailing Alex from the fire station back to her house, hiding out in the bushes to see if Jay comes over. I can totally see myself sneezing or getting a phone call at the worst possible moment, getting dragged out of the shrubbery by Jason himself. If dying of embarrassment is more than a figure of speech, getting caught stalking him and his new girlfriend would do it.

“Okay,” I say. “You’re in charge of spying. As far as some of the other stuff, I can work on being unpredictable and flexible and deceptive and decisive, but how am I supposed to get close enough to Jay to display these fabulous traits?”