by Kim Askew
“As if we had any choice,” Troy said.
“Yeah, well, you were a lot safer in here than out there.”
I threw the blanket off my legs and got to my feet. “You wanna bet?”
“Oh, hey, Miranda!” Randall made his way over to me. “Don’t worry—a few guys from the maintenance team were the first to make it in this morning, and they found Grady—along with your little note spelling out all his crimes. The police are down there questioning him now.”
“Oh, what a relief! I was worried he’d sweet-talk his way out before we could explain the situation.”
“Apparently, he tried, but from what I’ve heard upstairs, there’s evidence in his office as well as down by the loading dock where he’d stashed the stolen goods. But I’m sure they’ll want to question everyone who was in the mall. I’m going to head down that way and find out some more details.”
Randall trudged off and, after flashing me a quick grin, Caleb stood up, clasped his hands, and stretched them overhead with a yawn. Now that I had a chance to suss out the room, I was surprised at how many of the Eastern Prep kids had migrated to our little enclave over the course of the night. They say a crisis brings people together, and while I liked to think maybe I had a little something to do with it (what with conjuring dance parties, promoting rock concerts, and all), I guessed it was probably due to the fact that the food court had more bathrooms.
Ariel came flitting over to me like a cygnet from Swan Lake. Was she always this perky after two hours of sleep, or was the carton of OJ in her hand spiked with an energy drink? I suspected the former.
“You’re not really mad at me, are you?” she said, pausing to gauge my reaction.
I thought about everything she’d done for me last night, gamely going along with my every whim, no matter how vainglorious, silly, or even dangerous. I’d initially made the excuse that I’d done it as a diversion for her, when all along she’d been the one trying to help me.
“How could I be mad at my best friend?”
“I’m your best friend?! I’ve never had a best friend!” I half-expected her to implode into a maelstrom of confetti, but instead she leaned in closer and whispered for my ears only. “Would you say I did a good job, then?”
I glanced at her, attempting a look of nonchalance even though I knew exactly what she meant.
“We can talk about it later.”
Once the rest of us managed to catch up to Ariel’s level of alertness (well, maybe not quite), Caleb rightfully pointed out that it wasn’t fair for the janitors to have to deal with our super-sized mess. He and Chad rounded up some empty garbage bins with Colin and Cory while Ariel and I teamed up to put the tables to rights and wipe them down. Ours wasn’t the only cleanup effort in progress. Raj’s crew circled around the Itneys like mad scientists, deliberating a solution to their orange-hued, henna-stained skin, with suggestions ranging from boric acid to WD-40.
“But I kind of like it,” Whitney said. “It’s like the ultimate fake tan!”
I had just tossed Ariel a spray bottle with disinfectant when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Rachel standing behind me with her arms crossed. Uh oh.
“Rumor has it you were the grand architect of my elevator run-in with Bunnicula,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
“Oh. Uh … yeah. I guess that wasn’t exactly the most mature thing in the world to have done, but—”
“Forget it. My therapist has been telling me for months that exposure treatment was the only thing that would cure my leporiphobia.”
“Come again?”
“That’s the scientific name: the paralyzing fear of bunny rabbits. I’m sure it wasn’t your intention, but you probably cured me. Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Okay?” I thought the situation between us had mellowed after our encounter in the ladies’ room, but now I wasn’t so sure.
“I think you might need to have a word with Brian.”
“I’d prefer not to. Why are you telling me this?”
“He’s outside like a raving lunatic right now, spelling out ‘I Heart Miranda Prospero’ in the snow.”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“I wish. You can see it from the upstairs atrium overlooking the parking lot. Of course, he forgot the ‘S’ in your last name. Please tell me you are not back together with that sleazebag. I know you and I didn’t end on great terms, but I think I speak for us all,” she pointed over to the Itneys, “when I say that we can do better than him.”
In so many ways, Rachel and I represented two very opposite sides of the same coin, but on this point we were in agreement. I’d cried too many tears at the mere thought of my ex-boyfriend over the course of the last month, and though I had vilified him for the mess he’d made of my life, I could see in hindsight that I was to blame for being so uncomprehendingly spellbound by him in the first place. It was just as Caleb had said to Grady; I hadn’t just been a fool for dating Brian, I’d been a bigger fool for not figuring out how to get over him. Suddenly, I felt unable to suppress my laughter at the visual of Brian tromping through the snow to profess his love when we all knew it would melt as soon as the mercury climbed. Tears welled up in my eyes, but this time, they stemmed from the kind of unimpeded laughter that gives you a complete ab workout. It seemed a fitting enough reprisal that he was pining away for me in a mad state of unrequited love, literally left out in the cold for a change. Who knows? Perhaps it would make him a better person. After all, that’s what it had done for me.
I reassured Rachel that I was in no danger of reconciling with Brian and headed back to Hot-Dog Kabob to grab some fresh towels. Truth be told, I had spotted Caleb in the vicinity and hoped to intercept him for a quick tête-à-tête before we all made our exodus. Worried the enchantment had somehow faded now that the night had officially ended, I needed to know that Caleb still had a “package deal” in mind for us. He’d been bewitched—or so it seemed—by my prevailing sovereignty in this inconsequential mall microcosm. Yet now that I’d decided to put my plotting and politicking behind me, I wondered if what remained would still be of interest to him. Who was the “great and powerful” Miranda Prospero now that I had abdicated my reign of petty payback? I was standing behind the counter parsing all this when Reggie and Stacy, the Eastern Prep kids who’d taken such joy in heckling me mere hours ago, approached. Ariel skedaddled over and lifted the counter to stand by my side, as if worried I was about to face an encore rationing of insults.
“Is it true?” Stacy looked at me quizzically. “Were you the one who brought down the mall cop?”
“Well, it wasn’t just me.”
“She’s being modest,” said Ariel. “Grady would’ve gotten away with murder—literally—if it hadn’t been for Miranda.”
“Way to go, Ace.” Reggie offered his hand to me.
“Weren’t you terrified?” Stacy looked spooked.
“I, uh, didn’t really have time to be.”
“I bet the big shots at corporate will give you a mega-reward or something,” Colin said as a crowd began to gather. “The financial implications of catching him are pretty huge.”
“Score!” Troy said, leaning over the Spitfire counter to join in the conversation. “You know what that means, Miranda—you’ll be able to quit your job. Which, sorry to be selfish, will suck, big time, for me.”
“Oh, Troy! I almost forgot. A copy of Avalanche X turned up for the little dude. Remind me before you take off—I’ll get it for you.”
“Seriously? This is going to make that kid’s decade! You are a lifesaver, Miranda. See what I mean?” Troy looked around at the dozen or so who’d assembled around us. “She’s a cross between, oh I don’t know, Lara Croft and,” he paused to consider and then blurted out, “Mother freakin’ Teresa!”
“She’s hardly Mother Teresa.” Caleb had appeared at the edge of the crowd. “At least, I hope she isn’t.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to thi
s. I was so used to peppering him with cynical comebacks that any other approach made me feel tentative and uncharacteristically shy.
“So … do you think you will? Quit your job, I mean?” Ariel looked as sad as a bent-winged butterfly as she posed the question.
“Yeah.” The crowd parted as Caleb nudged his way through. “Would you blow this fast-food stand for good?” He stood before me and my heart leaped in response to his lopsided grin. I knew I’d found something that elicited far more thrill and excitement than any of my sundry schemes, and I could tell by the glimmer of admiration in his eyes that he felt the same.
“What, and miss out on fashion like this?” Relinquishing the last vestiges of my former snobby self, I reached under the counter again, this time pulling out my once-dreaded wiener-propelled hat. I placed it proudly on my head and turned to Ariel with a wink. “Help me?”
“Sure thing!” Her braces gleamed as though they’d just been Windexed. Looking at this kindred spirit, I felt a pang of gratitude in recognition of her unconditional friendship, even when I’d once been only condescendingly tolerant of her. I was lucky to have her. She arranged the hat on my head, tucked under a stray wisp of bang, and then murmured, “You’re good.”
She meant my hat, I think. Or did she? I thought back to the note my mom had jotted down in the margin of my book: “Rebuke = redemption!” It had seemed like English major b.s. the first time I’d seen it, but strangely, I could appreciate its significance now. I’m not going to pretend that tumbling off my perch on the elite high school pedestal hadn’t hurt. I wouldn’t wish my recent experience on anyone. Yet had I not fallen (or been unwittingly pushed?) out of so-called favor, I would never have ended up here, among these fascinatingly funny, steadfast, authentic, plain-old wonderful weirdos that I now called my friends. I glanced at Caleb. Not exactly a Jane Austen hero, but still. He’d taken me to task at times throughout the night, but his challenges seemed rooted in the belief that I was capable of more. Whether he’d intended to or not, he’d brought out the best in me, and I wanted more than anything to show him that I had learned from all my missteps. If real life truly did mirror the game of chess, now was my golden opportunity to, like the all-powerful queen, change course. It was time to make my move.
I gave Ariel’s shoulders a quick squeeze, then popped up the hinged counter and walked right into the waiting arms of Caleb. The crowd dispersed—or at least, I didn’t notice them anymore—as he enveloped me in a tight bear hug. I looked up into his face and was rewarded with a tender kiss on the forehead.
“You know, the first time I saw you, you were wearing this hat,” he reminded me, playfully spinning its propeller. I brushed aside his bangs and then stood on tiptoe to plant a reciprocal kiss on his lips. As I gave in to the spectacular awesomeness of the moment, I heard a noise as if from far away. I leaned back and turned to look. Still surrounding us were all our new friends, wolf-whistling, cheering, and clapping. I blushed and flashed them an I’m-so-busted grin.
It finally dawned on me that I didn’t necessarily have to give up all my influence and stratagems—that was part of my charm, after all. I made a silent vow to use my talents only for good—and I knew a couple of people who’d make sure I stayed true to that resolution. I grabbed Caleb by the wrist, pulling him in the direction of the escalator.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked.
“To Got Games for a pair of those trick handcuffs,” I said. “I’m not letting you get away so easy this time.”
As we headed up the escalator, I looked back down at the food court spread out below us in all its garish glory. In some ways it had been, for at least one night, an island unto itself; the promise of its time-worn theme fulfilled beyond measure. I waved farewell to the sea of faces about to be released from their confinement and said a silent goodbye to the past. My vision began to swirl, dreamlike, and I blinked back the hint of happy tears, wondering if the food court and everyone in it might vanish completely. Caleb’s arm tightened around me and I knew it was no illusion. A bright new day awaited us, and I hoped for smooth sailing ahead.
Copyright © 2012 by Kim Askew and Amy Helmes
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