by JC Gatlin
Abbie, Susan and the twins jumped off the stage as the crowd gave a halfhearted clap. Most everyone had turned their attention to McKenzie and Rocky rather than the girls on stage. Abbie didn’t care. She approached Rocky at the back booth.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“The woman’s nuts.” Rocky looked toward the exit doors. “She gets jealous all the time.”
“Well, is she coming back?”
“I don’t know.” He left the booth, winding through the crowd, and headed toward the exit. Abbie looked at the other girls. As they sat back down in the booth, she watched a guy in a white sleeveless t-shirt climb on stage.
“I’m dedicating this song to the couple who was just fighting and stormed out of here like a couple a bats outta hell,” he said into the mic. There was some laughter and a few cheers. Then he launched into “You Give Love a Bad Name.”
Abbie paid no attention. He wasn’t the man who was following her. She glanced around the bar again, then looked down at her phone. She stared at the photo of the man in the tan trench coat and brown hat.
He obviously wasn’t here, in the crowd. That meant he was out there, somewhere. Watching her. Waiting for her.
* * * *
The wall-to-wall bodies in Gaspar’s Grotto, the dim lighting, the loud music—it all worked to his advantage. He folded the tan trench coat beside his thigh on the bench, set his brown hat on top of it, then placed his hands on top the table. The booth was in the back, near the bar. There, he just became another face in the crowd.
He opened his notepad.
Abbie Reed was on the karaoke stage, singing. He made a note of that. She was surrounded by her tall roommate, Susan Nichols, and that other girl, the red head in the red Japanese dress, McKenzie Thomas. The twins joined the girls on stage. They sang a song by Sting, and Susan kicked a shoe into the crowd.
At one point, Abbie looked directly at him. Their eyes connected. He held his breath, expecting her to recognize him. If she did, she didn’t acknowledge it. Perhaps from the stage, with the lights shining in her eyes and the ocean of people around them, she couldn’t make out one face from another.
However, her friend, the male wearing glasses and a loose fitting bowling shirt, had crossed his path. Came right up to the booth, then passed by, headed to the bar. The male returned to his booth and flirted with a random woman. McKenzie Thomas must have caught him. She stomped off the stage and confronted the male. They argued. She stormed out.
He scribbled another note.
Abbie Reed and the remaining girls finished the karaoke song and returned to their booth. They spoke to the male for several minutes before he too got up and left, presumably running after McKenzie Thomas.
Now Abbie Reed, Susan Nichols and the twins—they sat in a booth only a few feet away. If Abbie Reed looked up, glanced in his direction, surely she would see him—recognize him.
He grabbed his hat and trench coat. The girls watched a new karaoke singer on the stage. They were distracted. This was his chance to leave before they spotted him. He reached for his phone. It wasn’t on the table. He glanced down at the bench, looked under the table and on the floor. It was gone.
He didn’t have time to look for it right now.
He looked back at Abbie Reed and the girls. All he could see were the backs of their heads. They were still focused on the karaoke singer. He got up from the booth and rushed to the exit doors—right behind McKenzie Thomas and the male with the glasses and the loose fitting bowling shirt.
Chapter 19
Abbie typed “Mission Accepted and Completed” into her phone and hit send. She then looked at the faces across the booth. Susan sat next to the twins and clapped in rhythm to the guy on stage singing the Bon Jovi song. Dharma sipped her non-alcoholic Lemon-Orange Fizz. Susan ordered another beer and Abbie ordered what Dharma was drinking. By the time the drinks arrived, they had mostly forgotten the drama and Dharma handed Abbie a glass. “Happy Birthday.”
They drank to that toast.
Four karaoke songs and a couple of drinks later, Abbie cleared her throat. She held McKenzie’s pink hair ribbon. “Do you think she’s coming back?”
Susan shrugged. “Who cares?” she said. “Thank God I’m not in a relationship. The ridiculous, childish squabbles I get into with men I’m not even sleeping with are enough to keep me single until I’m in Depends.”
“I’m worried about her,” Abbie said.
“It looked like she and Rocky had a pretty big fight,” Lindsey said. Lindsay corrected her.
“It wasn’t a fight. It was a tiff.”
Lindsey shrugged. “Well it looked like a fight to me.”
“We’re lucky we didn’t all get kicked out,” Abbie said. She stared at the ribbon, then set it on the table.
“Maybe we should go find her.” She tried to talk over the loud music. An older man in a bandanna was singing a Beatles song now. She didn’t recognize it or really pay attention, instead looking over at Dharma. “What’d he say to you?”
Dharma made a face. “He invited me to be a distributor for some vitamin thing.”
Susan shook her head. “And that was it?”
“What else were you expecting?” Dharma yelled over the loud music. “Your red-headed girlfriend up there on stage stopped singing, marched over here and took him by the ear.”
“Maybe we should go after them,” Abbie said again. Her phone chirped. She looked down it.
Abbie read the text message and typed a quick response. She hit send.
After several moments, her phone dinged again. She read the text message.
Abbie sighed, frustrated, and typed again as Susan asked her what she was doing.
“I want to know who is sending these messages,” Abbie said. She typed a new message.
After several moments, she received a response.
She looked at Susan. “For all I know, it’s a robot on the other end.”
Susan planted her elbows on the table. “Well, did you really think it was going to be Joss Whedon or Sarah Michelle Gellar? There’s better odds that it’s your father.”
“I don’t think it’s Clinton Reed anymore. He doesn’t have a PhD,” she said. “And I can’t even imagine what it would take to get him to come back to Tampa.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” Susan looked up at the ceiling as if she was giving it serious scrutiny. “Do you have any other siblings you haven’t seen in a long time?”
Abbie looked away. “Yeah, but if she is waiting for me somewhere, it’s not going to be at some lame birthday party.”
“Lame huh?” Dharma took a sip of her drink. After a second, she added, “Let’s do it. I’ll go with you. Let’s run outside.”
Abbie looked around the club. The man with the tan trench coat and brown hat wasn’t in here, in the club, which meant he was obviously out there, waiting for her. She sat back. Dharma grabbed her hand.
“I know you’re scared, but we’ll go together,” Dharma said. “We’ll do the dare—you and me.”
“But what if he’s still out there?”
“So what if he is?” Susan huffed and waved her arms. “Like Rocky said, he can’t do anything to us when we’re all together.”
“But what does he want? Why is he following me?”
“Are you kidding?” Susan put her hands on her hips. “You’re a pretty college girl. The kind of stalker bait they could bag and sell at Wal-Mart.” Susan took another drink. Everyone was silent, staring at her. She looked across the table and put down her drink. “Okay, so let’s say someone is actually following you and this isn’t all in your pretty little head. Here’s the facts. There’s a lot of people out there and there are cops and police dogs and even that cute campus security guy roaming the street, protecting us, keeping the peace. So we’ll be safe. I promise.”
Abbie shrugged. She looked at Dharma. Dharma nodded.
Draining the last of the lemon-orange fizz, Dharma stood and walked away from
the booth. Abbie set down her half finished drink on top of a ten-dollar bill and followed her to the front door, leaving McKenzie’s pink ribbon on the table. Racing outside, the two scrambled onto the sidewalk as pedestrians swerved around them. Together, they screamed, “I’VE LOST MY VOICE! PLEASE, SOMEONE, HELP ME FIND IT!”
Several people stopped, shocked. Others ran away from the girls. A few boys laughed. Abbie ran through the crowd, repeating the phrase. Just for fun, Dharma ran to a Japanese couple, got up in their faces and yelled, “I’ve lost my voice. Can you help me find it?” The Japanese man snapped a photo of her with his phone.
With that, both girls headed for the empty lot across the street. They fell down on the grass, laughing.
“I can’t believe we did that.” Dharma gasped for breath. “My heart is pounding a million miles per second.”
Behind her, a gaggle of drag queens—bouffant wigs, heavy caked makeup, shimmering animal print gowns—came out of a nightclub. One dressed as Cher. Another as Dolly Parton. The third was a black Marilyn. Her white pleated skirt blew up in the wind. Susan and the twins came around them, and found Abbie and Dharma on the ground.
“You see. No creeps in the vicinity.” Susan stood over them and gestured toward the crowd of people on the sidewalks and streets. There were adults and teenagers. Drunk college riding bikes. Boys on skate boards zipped past. Scientologists handed out pamphlets. A horse and carriage trotted along the brick-paved street. They were surrounded by activity. “See. Everything’s fine. You’re just over-reacting.”
“I guess.” Abbie picked up her phone. She tried to call McKenzie again, but the call went straight to voicemail. She hung up.
“Did you send the mission complete text?” Susan asked.
“Not yet.” Abbie still stared at her phone, willing McKenzie to call her. “I want to catch my breath.”
“I get it. You’re worried about her.” Susan sat down beside Abbie and Dharma. The twins stood, hovering over them. Susan looked over at them, then back at Abbie. “But I’m sure she’s fine. I doubt they’re breaking-up over this.”
Abbie gave her a sideways glance. Lindsey bent down and touched her shoulder. “I doubt this is their first fight. Maybe he’s a dawg and hits on women all the time.”
“Yeah, she’s right,” Lindsay said. Lindsey looked at her sister with wide eyes, mouth open. Lindsay nodded. “You have a point. I mean, what do we even know about him anyway?”
“Obviously McKenzie is hyper jealous and possessive,” Susan said. “What do you really know about Satan’s bride when you come right down to it? You said you hadn’t seen her in a couple of years.”
Abbie sighed. “I’ve known her for over a decade and a half. We grew up together.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Susan folded her legs to sit crossed-legged, and stretched her arms behind her back to support her weight. “I mean, are you the same person you were in high school? We change a lot in college. We transform, you know?”
“I’m still the same person,” Abbie said quietly. “Unfortunately.”
Susan looked away and sighed. “Send the mission completed text and let’s get to the next dare. McKenzie is probably waiting for us down the road at the next location.”
Dharma stood. “Isn’t this whole thing kinda juvenile?”
“Yes, but isn’t it kind of fun too?” Susan’s eyes lit up. She put her hand on Abbie’s shoulder. “Come on. Admit it. You’re having a good time.”
Abbie looked over at her. “Let’s just get it over with.”
“There’s my little trooper,” Susan said. “We’re getting close to the undisclosed location where your surprise guest is waiting.”
Abbie’s face lit up. “So you do know who it is.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. There’s really only one way to find out.”
Abbie sighed and sent the mission complete text, then looked at Susan. Abbie started to ask for a clue when a new text message came in. All the phones dinged, except for Dharma’s.
“We’ve got the next dare,” Susan said.
The girls laughed. Lindsey took a black magic marker from her purse. “This is the best one yet,” she said.
“It was my idea.” Lindsay held up her own magic marker. Lindsey’s back straightened and she shot her sister an offended scowl.
“It was actually my idea,” she said. “I came up with it after seeing that scene on that television show.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Lindsay held out her marker and tapped Lindsey on the nose with it. “I’m the one who suggested it for Abbie’s party.”
Abbie took the magic marker from Lindsey, then took the other one from Lindsay. “Okay, which way are we headed?”
Susan pointed and the girls headed east along the old Ybor District sidewalk.
Chapter 20
There’s something that’s always bothered me about Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” Susan said. The girls walked east along Eighth Avenue. “And I get it. She’s got super powers. But every night she kicks and punches vampires—yet her makeup is always perfect. No sweat. No ripped clothes. Never a hair out of place.”
“Well, the thing that bothered me about Buffy, and I’m a huge fan,” Dharma said, “is how she kept putting off Spike for Angel. She was so hung-up on Angel when Spike was clearly her soul mate.”
Abbie stopped walking and held up a hand, halting Dharma in her tracks. “There is no greater love than Angel and Buffy. Angel is classic mysterious loner dude. He loved and protected Buffy from afar and was just too noble and valiant for his own good.”
“Are you on drugs?” Dharma let out a sarcastic laugh. “It’s Buffy and Spike forever. They had a forbidden, dangerous, toxic love-hate relationship that made Angel look like a boring wax figure.”
“Angel was romantic.” Abbie was both excited and aggravated as she explained herself. “Once he accepted the impossibility of their relationship, he broke up with Buffy and left Sunnydale, leaving her to attend senior prom alone. And then once you think your heart can’t break anymore, he shows up out of nowhere in a tuxedo and dances with her… at her Senior Prom.”
“That whole episode blew-up the cheese meter.” Dharma moved her hands to mimic an explosion and its following mushroom cloud.
“It showed how deep their love was,” Abbie said. “Even though he couldn’t give Buffy the future they both wanted, he knew what he could give her was that one perfect high school moment.”
“Excuse me,” Lindsey interrupted. “Who are Buffy and Angel? Do they go to BHU?”
“I think I have a class with a guy named Spike,” Lindsay said.
“C’mon, Abbie. You’re supposed to be completing the dare.” Susan stopped them and pointed. On the sidewalk across the street, three college boys dribbled a basketball back and forth to one another. They looked like brothers, with the same hair cut and lean body type. They were short too. Susan pushed Abbie to ask them.
“Okay, okay. Stop nagging me,” Abbie said. She approached the boys. They stopped dribbling and turned to her. “It’s my birthday and I’m doing these dares,” she said to them. “And I was wondering if you could help me.”
The boys threw the ball back and forth. “Sure, what’s up?” the slightly taller boy said, catching the ball.
“You look like you work out.” Abbie laughed nervously, and then looked back at the group. When she turned back around, she saw him nodding. He couldn’t have been more than five-foot-four.
“Yeah, it was leg day,” he said. “Tomorrow is arms.”
“Great.” Abbie looked down at him. “How about you lift your shirt and let me sign my name on your abs?”
“Come again?” He dropped the ball, but caught it before it hit the ground.
“It’s a dare.” Abbie felt silly even saying it. “I have to sign my name on twenty-one different guy’s abs.”
“That’s crazy.” He tossed the ball to his brother and lifted his shirt anyway. “I guess so. Why not?”
His two brothers l
aughed as Abbie wrote her name just above his belly button. He laughed too, looking down at his stomach. Then he showed it off like a new tattoo. His brothers lifted their shirts. Abbie crouched down and signed her name on their stomachs as well. Then she returned to the girls.
“Okay, three down, eighteen more to go,” she said, putting the cap back on the magic marker.
Continuing along the sidewalk, they ran into more boys. One said that he would only allow her to write her name if she also wrote down her phone number.
“How would you read it?” she asked him. “It’d be upside down.”
“I’ll look at it in the mirror,” he replied.
Abbie laughed. “But it’ll be backwards.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’m dyslexic.”
Abbie shrugged and scribbled “Erin Outtercooch 987-6543.”
Another block further, they approached a dad walking with his wife and two kids. He had a large beer belly and said there was room for all the girls to write their names on his belly. This time Dharma, Susan, and the twins signed their names too. He returned to his family, laughing with five girl’s names scrawled across his wide pale stomach.
Behind the family, a little further down the street, Abbie noticed a black pick-up parallel parked along the curb. A familiar guy hopped out of the truck, and she waved to him. He looked at her and smiled.
Josh Parks locked his truck and made his way toward Abbie. He was out of uniform and wearing a canary yellow Tommy Bahamas shirt, ironed-creased tan Dockers, and white tennis shoes. Comb lines tracked through his parted black hair.