“And no one will ever believe you.”
Ardelia whirled, all swirling skirt and bouncing curls, and grabbed Cherry’s hand. They ran for the trees, leaving the stunned kid to pull himself together, alone on the walkway.
“Oh, my God.” Cherry’s face ached from laughing. “That was epic.”
“Mmm.” Ardelia ran her tongue over her teeth. “Tasted like cinnamon gum.”
They were hidden now behind some elms and a length of wire fence. Ardelia rested against a tree, tipping her face toward the stars.
“I wish I’d taken a picture of the guy’s face,” Cherry said. “I think you gave him a stroke.”
Ardelia laughed, breathless. “Sometimes it’s even better. One guy actually fell over.”
“Wait, have you done that before?”
“Once or twice.” She shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe someone will start a website. A bunch of online conspiracy theorists. Does Ardelia Deen really kiss strange boys in the night?”
Cherry shook her head. “You’re like the tooth fairy, except for make-outs.” She looked over her shoulder to where they’d left him, imagining the kid still standing there, mouth hanging open, smeared with Ardelia’s lipstick. “Jesus. I almost feel a little sorry for him.”
“Oh, who cares?” Ardelia reached for Cherry’s hand. “Come on, I can’t sit still.”
A while later they lounged on a park bench, each with an ice-cream cone from the snack stand near the gate. It was the first truly warm night of the year. Voices carried over the park, other couples on other benches, a little kid screaming and laughing, despite the late hour, and somewhere someone playing a boom box. The park and the air and the cold ice cream on her tongue — it all felt too special to be real. They were only missing fireworks and a picnic blanket.
Ardelia sniffed. Her nose was running a lot tonight. She dabbed it with a paper napkin.
“You get allergies?” Cherry asked, catching a rogue dribble of mint chocolate chip.
Ardelia tipped her face toward the sky, blinking. “Sure.” She sniffed again.
“Vi was making fun of me earlier.” Cherry caught another dribble as it raced down her waffle cone. She was judging the perfect moment to bite off the bottom and slurp out the remaining ice cream, just like old times. She hadn’t changed that much. “She was ragging on me because I bought these fancy chocolates from the organic market.”
“Oh?” Ardelia seemed distracted. She looked up the walkway toward the park entrance, sniffed again. “Sounds like reverse snobbery to me.”
“What’s that?”
“What? Oh, you know, it’s like the regular variety, except in reverse. It’s when you think someone must be uptight, condescending, stuffy — what have you — simply because they have a little more money than you do.”
“Huh.” She’d never known there was a word for it. It felt weightier with a word. She felt a little stab of guilt, wondering how much of Cherry’s reverse snobbery Ardelia had sensed in the beginning.
“You know?” Ardelia said suddenly. “Fuck her, right? You’re trying new things. And what’s she doing? Making fun of you for it.”
“I guess. . . .” Cherry focused on Ardelia’s red eyes, her running nose, her twitching knee, which was frankly two twitches away from driving Cherry absolutely bonkers.
“Sorry,” Ardelia said, and laughed at herself. “Don’t know where that came from.”
An errant drip slid off her cone and planted itself in Cherry’s lap.
“Wait, are you on something?” Cherry asked.
Ardelia bit her lip. She smiled guiltily. “Maybe.”
Cherry was scandalized. She’d never seen anyone on drugs, other than weed, and that didn’t count. Ardelia seemed twisted on something exotic. And exhausting.
“What? What is it?”
“No. I’m not telling you,” Ardelia said, a little of her manic cheer returning. “Don’t do drugs. Don’t do drugs, Cherry. I don’t want that for you. I’m responsible for you.”
Cherry laughed. “I didn’t say I wanted any.”
“Good. Do as I say, not as I do. Okay? Okay?” She pressed her forehead to Cherry’s. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Cherry couldn’t stop laughing. Was this what they called a contact high?
“Come on.” Ardelia stood and tossed the remainder of her cone into the trash. “We can’t stop now, or it’ll just be too depressing.”
They were out a long time. Walking, talking. Cherry could barely keep up with Ardelia. And then, after ordering milk shakes at a twenty-four-hour diner not far from the harbor, Ardelia decided she had to be taken home. The Spider zipped quietly through the vacant back streets, the wheels bobbling over the cobblestone avenues. It was that too-late or too-early hour of the night when the city was most empty. Cherry could smell baking bread.
Ardelia wiped her cheeks. They were sparkly in the low light of the dash.
“Are you crying?”
“My eyes are just raw.” Her voice was hoarse, that of a much older woman. Ardelia seemed to have aged ten years since the park. She curled up her knees and rested her cheek against the seat. She put her hand on Cherry’s knee. “Thank you.”
Cherry squeezed her friend’s hand, not sure what she was being thanked for. By the next stoplight, Ardelia was asleep. She looked roughed up, her hair frizzed from the night’s humidity, her lips dry and cracked. It was the first time Cherry had seen her look frayed, frail, and she couldn’t decide if this was the kind of raw that comes after a workout — the used-up, good-for-you kind — or the beat-down look of someone who’s just had the shit kicked out of them.
Without Ardelia’s infectious energy, the late hour pulled on Cherry like a lead coat. She felt beat-up herself. She thought they’d been having fun, but, really, Ardelia was having fun with herself. Cherry was an accessory, an add-on. She thought of the kid in the park and the warm air and the ice cream — and it took the sweetness out of everything.
But it was also — sort of, a bit — exciting. And it had been pretty funny, pretty ridiculous, the look on the guy’s face. Jesus. She felt so different. Even the exhaustion, the fact she’d have to sneak in through her window so Pop wouldn’t know she’d been out all night, and the knowledge that tomorrow she’d be wrecked for school were good things. She felt stretched, sore like a muscle that didn’t get much exercise, used for the first time.
She yawned, guiding the Spider toward Ardelia’s hotel, through the orange and empty streets. The sun was rising in a city, and look how she’d been out all night, and look at the color of the sky, a color you could drive into forever.
Next morning wasn’t pretty. In homeroom Cherry clutched her thermos of coffee, taking tiny, trembling sips. First period was biology, which Cherry usually enjoyed, mostly because she liked Mrs. Polino. Mrs. Polino had a sense of humor. You could tell she used to be a dumb kid from the way she joked around with the dumb kids and didn’t take any shit from the smarties. Mrs. Polino was tough. A chalk thrower. Which was why Cherry should have known better than to fall asleep in her class.
A terrible bleat like an air-raid siren jerked Cherry awake. Her knees hit the underside of her desk, nearly toppling her. The class was in hysterics. Polino stood a few feet away, brandishing the air horn she used to snap unruly students to attention.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Polino said. “Did I interrupt your nap?”
“I wasn’t —” Cherry started. Polino squeezed the horn again. Kids were convulsed with laughter, in tears.
“See me after class, Kerrigan.”
Everyone went, “Oohhhh.”
Cherry stayed seated until the last student filed out and she and Polino were alone. Polino leaned against the teacher’s desk, arms crossed, and indicated that Cherry should sit closer by kicking out the nearest chair. Cherry moved to the front row.
Polino glowered, letting her stew, studying her.
“Are you on drugs?”
“What?”
“Smack. Dope. G
rass.”
“Grass?”
“Cherry.”
“I’m not on drugs, Mrs. P. What makes you think I’m on drugs?”
Polino opened a folder on her desk. “Your academic record’s never been stellar, Kerrigan. But lately it’s atrocious. There’s a smell coming off this thing.” She waved the file in the air. “It smells like deadbeat.” Cherry tried not to smile. Polino was funny even when she was ripping you a new one. “Then there was your suspension —”
“That was for a good cause! Vi —”
Polino stopped her with a raised hand. “I admire your motives. But you didn’t make up any of the work you missed. You didn’t even try. Look.” She moved from her desk to the seat next to Cherry. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. In case you can’t tell, your teachers like you. I like you. Boy, if I could have given it to that punk Neil . . .” Polino entertained that fantasy for a moment, then refocused. “You are dauntless, Cherry Kerrigan. But lately you’ve been stupid. What’s going on?”
Cherry studied her hands. She trusted Mrs. Polino. There weren’t many teachers you could talk to about real shit. “I’m going through some changes.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Not like that! I’m not preggers. It’s just . . . Have you ever been certain you wanted one thing, just this regular, normal, wonderful thing? And then you try something a little more . . . I don’t know, exotic? And suddenly you’re not so sure?”
“Okay,” Polino said, taking this in. “You know a lot of girls experiment —”
“Oh, for Jesus.” Cherry covered her ears. “I’m not gay. That’s not . . . Forget it.” She stood. “Thanks for the talk. I mean it. Let’s just chalk this up to senior-itis.”
Polino looked up, frowning but not angry. “You know the puffer-fish thing?”
“No. What’s that?”
“Puffer fish live at these great depths, down where the pressure is so intense it would crush a human to a pulp.”
Cherry laughed. “I know that feeling.”
“Well, these puffer fish, when you bring them up to the surface, where there isn’t so much pressure, you know what happens?”
“They go, Why the hell didn’t I do this earlier? It’s way nicer up here?”
“They explode,” said Polino. “Their bodies aren’t used to it, like the fish who were born near the surface. The puffer fish burst.”
Cherry shifted her weight. “This is a metaphor.”
“I teach biology, kid,” said Polino. “English lit is down the hall.”
That evening Ardelia took Cherry to dinner again, this time at the craft service table on set. Morale was low. Today’s session was cut short, with one cancellation and a no-show. The girls who’d kept their appointments were hardly stellar mommy material. They were nearing the bottom of Ardelia’s list, and Cherry wondered whether they’d been too harsh on the earlier candidates. A snotty attitude or slight gambling problem didn’t seem so bad compared to a manic-depressive or a girl with a stutter who’d stormed out calling Ardelia a p-p-pretentious bitch.
The evening’s shoot was a crowd scene, and dozens of extras milled around under a large tent, waiting for costumes. Cherry thought she recognized a few kids from school. They were like cattle, cordoned off in numbered sections. She followed Ardelia past the tent, toward the spread of eats labeled principals only. The extras nearest stared with envy. Starving cattle.
“I’m getting a little discouraged,” Ardelia said, piling her plate with fruit. Cherry had tried to detect any lingering effects from last night’s chemical freak-out, but Ardelia seemed undamaged, if a little maudlin. “We’re two-thirds through the list, and every candidate seems like a disaster. I suppose we could go through another agency, but I’m not sure I have the energy for it.”
“It only takes one,” Cherry said, turning her back to the hungry-looking extras.
“That’s true.”
She couldn’t believe the bounty on the craft table. In addition to picnic-style crackers and cold cuts, there were cookies, cake, pastas warming in chafing dishes, chicken wings, skewered meats, and coolers full of different sodas and bubbly water.
“Jesus, next time I’ll bring a shopping bag.”
“I know, it’s meager. They’re cutting costs,” Ardelia said.
They took their eats to a nearby table, out of sight of the extras. Cherry picked at her cold cuts and looked up to see Ardelia studying her.
“What?”
“I think you’d look nice with your original color, that’s all. Wouldn’t Cherry look nice with dark hair?” Ardelia asked someone over Cherry’s shoulder. She caught a whiff of scented shampoo as Maxwell dropped beside her.
“Stunning,” Maxwell said, helping himself to one of Cherry’s French fries. “Of course, you really can’t top Ardelia’s Bride of Frankenstein look.”
Ardelia modeled her tower of hair. “There’re three support rods in this thing. I don’t know how ladies did it back then.”
“How goes Mommy Quest 2013?”
“Miserably,” Ardelia said. “Maxwell, won’t you carry the baby?”
“Can’t. No babies. It’s in my contract.”
“Poo.”
“Hey,” said Cherry, “wouldn’t Spanner do it? Seems like she’d do anything for you.”
“I asked. She said no,” Ardelia said.
“She said no? To you?” Cherry couldn’t believe it. “I know it’s a big decision, but I can’t picture her turning you down.”
Ardelia twirled some cold sesame noodles around her fork and shrugged.
“Too bad Cherry’s only seventeen,” said Maxwell. “She could carry it for you.”
“How do you know how old I am?” Cherry said.
Ardelia smirked. “Maxwell’s taken quite the interest in you.”
He took another fry. “Careful, Deen.”
“He checks your Facebook page.”
Cherry turned to him. “You do?”
Maxwell glared like he was trying to incinerate Ardelia on the spot. “Is it so wrong to take an interest in the girl who saved my friend’s life?”
“Are you stalking me?” said Cherry.
“Yes, Maxwell!” Ardelia planted her palms on the table. “Are you Cherry’s stalker? Are you obsessed with her?”
“I mean, I am pretty fabulous,” Cherry said. “You wouldn’t be the first man I’ve broken.”
“Har-har. This is why I eat lunch alone.” Maxwell stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m due in makeup.”
“I’ve got to run, too,” Cherry said, clearing her plate.
The girls hugged good-bye, and soon Cherry found herself walking in the same direction as Maxwell. She didn’t get nervous around boys. Even with Lucas, her first feelings had been fluttery but never edgy. Now she found herself searching for something to say. All she could think of were references to his movies, which seemed dumb.
Maxwell spoke first. “She adores you, you know.”
“I adore her,” Cherry said. As usual, the thinking happened after the talking. Cherry realized it was true — she adored Ardelia.
“She hasn’t taken to anyone like this since Spanner.”
As if conjured by her name, Spanner emerged from the director’s tent a few yards away, doing her best not to hobble on her ankle brace. She looked furious.
“She sprained it falling out of bed,” said Maxwell. He didn’t explain further, and Cherry didn’t ask. They watched Spanner signal a hapless PA, waving the doomed boy over.
“That’s why she hates you, you know,” Maxwell said. “You remind her of herself.”
“Her?” Cherry raised an eyebrow so high it hurt. “Oh, yeah, we’re total soul twins.”
“You wouldn’t know it, but Spanner’s from humble beginnings,” said Maxwell. “They met when Ardelia was filming The Rented Girl in a tiny village in the West Midlands. Spanner was cast as a child circus performer.” Maxwell chuckled. “Ardelia says that girl spoke with the thickest backcountry accent you�
��ve ever heard. Almost unintelligible. I suppose she’s what you’d call British trailer trash.”
“Spanner? But she’s so . . . polished.”
“Spanner was her last name,” Maxwell corrected. “Gracie Spanner. She changed it to Spanner Grace a few years later, around the time she started speaking the Queen’s English and buying designer clothes. Quite the Eliza Doolittle.” Maxwell smirked. “You can always spot a social climber. They know the proper way better than the ones born rich.”
Spanner harangued the PA. Her voice reached them across the lot, the distance robbing it of coherence, leaving only its sharpness.
“Why are you telling me this?” Cherry asked.
“Just thought you should know what’s possible,” said Maxwell. “In life. You could have what she has, if you want it.” His eye met hers for the first time, and the force of their blue was like a physical shove. Cherry felt something stir in her center — and squashed it.
“I don’t want what she has. Thanks.”
Maxwell shrugged. “The way Ardelia’s been grooming you, you may not have a choice soon.”
“Grooming me?”
He didn’t seem to hear her. His thoughts had wandered elsewhere. “I was thinking of exploring your town tonight,” he said, his conspiratorial tone gone. “Anything here to do besides throw cans off the bridge?”
“There’s a club,” Cherry said. “Shabooms.”
Maxwell considered this. “Sounds interesting. I think I’ll check it out. Ciao, my dear.”
Before she could react, he kissed her on both cheeks. She knew from television this was how Europeans said good-bye, but that didn’t stop her turning red. And then she was staring at his back as he sauntered away.
“Hey,” Lucas said. He was right there all of a sudden, like he’d teleported in straddling his tiny trick bicycle.
“Jesus! You scared me,” she said. “Why aren’t you at work?”
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