Not the Girls You're Looking For

by Aminah Mae Safi

  “See you,” said Lulu, grinning.

  Lulu arrived home to the dark of her house. She found her mother, dozed off on the couch while Murder, She Wrote hummed along in the background. Lulu crouched down low next to her mother’s still form.

  “Mama,” Lulu whispered.

  Her mother made a sound between a hum and a groan, a noise only those recently awoken are able to make sincerely.

  “Mama, I’m home. I’m all right. You should go to bed now.”

  Her only verbal reply was to hum again, though she twisted herself back into an upright position. She mussed her hands through her sleep-induced hair. She reached out and lovingly grabbed Lulu by the chin and smiled.

  “Mama, I’m going upstairs now,” said Lulu.

  Her mother looked over at the clock on the cable box. She nodded, following Lulu up the stairs. Lulu kissed her mother good night and went into her room.

  Lulu’s brain was full, full and tangled and complicated. She went through the motions of getting herself ready for bed, but she hardly started to brush her teeth when she went in search of her sweat pants. She went on like this, distractedly trying to ready herself for bed for a quarter of an hour. After finally getting her contacts out, she crawled into bed and fell asleep.

  30

  Bulletproof

  Lulu should not have been disappointed. But deep within her, she had believed that if she’d pulled off the right plan, she would magically solve all the problems in her life in one fell swoop. She’d had her revenge, or, at least, delivered a great comeuppance. She had enlisted Emma’s help, and gained a new friend in Diana in the bargain. And when Audrey had apologized at lunch, Lulu knew the plan was working, would work. Knew it was gaining mass and pulling the right people into its gravity. But Lo had not been drawn in. She hadn’t shown even a flicker of interest in Lulu. Or any of them. She’d been disappearing at lunch since the start of semester, likely finding a way off campus during the hour and meeting up with Scumbag Luke.

  It made Lulu feel as though her plan was ultimately a failure. She knew she shouldn’t look at it like that. But she’d made her revenge so craftily, so carefully, that she believed it must have attracted Lo’s attention.

  Luckily, Lulu knew where to find Lo tonight, because Scumbag Luke was throwing a party.

  Lulu and Audrey flanked around Emma and Diana. They were a united front—a protective guard against the world—and they would not break. Not this time. The atrium narrowed, and the girls had to walk single file to pass through. As Lulu walked by Michael Rossi, he muttered rudely under his breath, loud enough that Lulu could hear him, but quietly enough so that she knew he meant to be talking to the boy beside him.

  “What?” Lulu shouted, surprised by the force of her own voice. It was wild and powerful, not like a jungle cat or a bird of prey, ready to pounce, more like the Grand Canyon, steady and wondrous to behold. “What was that, Michael?”

  Michael was taken aback. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  “That’s what I thought.” Lulu turned then, as he stood gobsmacked in her wake.

  “Holy shit, that was amazing,” said Diana. “You’ve gotta teach me that trick one day.”

  “I learned it from Lo,” said Lulu.

  “Come on. Let’s grab drinks,” said Diana with a nod.

  Diana’s easy confidence made Lulu grin. Once in the kitchen, Lulu saw Nina Holmes, who clapped and handed Lulu a drink.

  “Lulu! Drink! I missed you!” Nina must have been totally obliterated to be grabbing Lulu for a hug.

  The drink was reminiscent of a lemon push pop. Lulu gulped her first two sips, then scrunched her face with the overtly sweet taste of the drink. Nina swatted at Lulu playfully. Lulu set the drink down inconspicuously on the corner. She needed the most of her faculties on this evening, birthday or no.

  “You guys adopted a freshman?” asked Nina.

  Lulu looked to Emma for an answer.

  Emma took a deep breath. “No. She’s my girlfriend.”

  Diana beamed and grabbed Emma’s hand.

  “Aren’t they adorable?” said Audrey with a head tilt. Audrey was so proper she could make anything seem all right.

  “Holy cow!” Nina took another swig of her drink.

  “I know, right?” said Lulu. “Isn’t it great?”

  “It’s amazing!” said Nina. She got out her phone, ready to demonstrate her ability to group message and talk simultaneously. The news would be across the party in ten minutes flat.

  Emma reached out with her free hand and squeezed Lulu’s for a moment before releasing it.

  Audrey looked at Emma, at Diana, at Lulu. “What now?”

  It should be noted that while Emma was making her declarations to Nina, the kitchen where they stood was not devoid of other human life. And while each girl might have had her own answer for What now? none of them were allowed to answer it. Because just as Nina Holmes was about to relay her fresh information to at least a dozen of her closest contacts, Scumbag Luke crossed the kitchen in less than three steps. Lo stood behind him, wary and unsure.

  Having both seen and heard the scene with the inebriated Nina, Scumbag Luke did exactly what anyone would expect of such a boy. He slurred a slur in Emma’s direction, though Diana, Lulu, Audrey, and even Nina were graciously included in his fear and his hate.

  And while the kitchen was noisy, as soon as the words were out, the din quieted to nothing. Emma stared wide-eyed. Diana’s face grew grim. Audrey swallowed her nerves. Nina and Lulu looked on in horror, as though they knew such a thing were possible but somehow still had not expected it.

  But Lo, she had the good sense to yank her hand out from Scumbag Luke’s. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me,” said Luke, who, unlike Michael, was clearly unwilling to back down.

  Lo looked at him plainly. She made a quick, curt nod. And without any other warning, without any wind-up, she socked him straight in the nose.

  “The fuck?” Scumbag Luke grabbed his nose, now streaming blood. There were involuntary tears in his eyes.

  “Don’t you ever, ever use that word again. We’re done. Now apologize.” Lo flexed her hand, resisting the urge to shake it out after her punch.

  “What?” Scumbag Luke was more stunned than anything.

  “You heard me. Apologize.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Scumbag Luke, his voice warbled and nasal from the flow of his own blood.

  “Not to me.” Lo pointed to Emma. “To her. Apologize to both of them. Now.”

  “I’m sorry.” Blood had dripped onto Scumbag Luke’s pristine white polo shirt.

  “Don’t you dare use that word again. And if I ever even hear of you saying it, I’m calling your girlfriend.”

  “How?” he choked out.

  “I stole her number off your phone. For emergencies. Don’t fuck with me on this, Luke.” Lo flipped her hair magnificently, triumphantly, grabbed a set of keys, and stalked out the kitchen, through the atrium, and, as everyone heard from the slamming of the front door, out of the house. For a moment everyone was too stunned to respond. Then the room erupted with chatter.

  This was a night to remember.

  31

  The Sisterhood of the Uniform Pants

  Emma looked around her, her startled state evident. “Did … did Lo just fight for my honor?”

  “Uh. Yeah,” said Lulu, equally flabbergast. “I think she did. To be honest, though, who hasn’t wanted to punch Scumbag Luke in the face?”

  Nobody had an argument to that.

  “What a night,” said Audrey to nobody in particular. She grabbed the drink that was in Nina Holmes’s hand. But she caught Lulu’s eye, and she poured the drink into an unsuspecting lady palm that was sitting in a large piece of decorative pottery.

  Nina Holmes was still too stunned to relay her gossip at all. Everything that passed in the kitchen was already around the party in ten minutes flat, though.

  “I’m going to go afte
r her,” said Lulu.

  “Me too,” said Audrey.

  “Me, three,” said Emma.

  “I’ll stay. In case she doubles back,” said Diana, understanding that what needed to happen belonged to the other four girls alone. Emma leaned into Diana for a kiss. Realizing she was two seconds away from rudely staring, Lulu turned to give them privacy. Emma only had that kind of focus when balancing chemistry equations and shuttering photos from behind her camera.

  The three girls went outside. And there, sitting on the stoop of the porch sat Lo, crying. Audrey, Lulu, and Emma stopped in their tracks.

  Lo looked up. She wiped her nose across her sleeve. “Come to gloat, have you?”

  “No,” said Lulu, in motion again.

  “Come to say you were right? Look at Scumbag Luke, a scumbag like you said all along?”

  Lulu laid her hand on Lo’s forearm. “No. We wouldn’t say that. Especially me. Not anymore.”

  “Don’t touch me,” said Lo, yanking out of Lulu’s grasp. “Nobody touch me.”

  But Lo didn’t wait around for anyone to try. She got up, wiping her face against her other sleeve, and ran to a big black pickup truck across the street. She unlocked it and got in, speeding away into the night.

  Dolores Campo had cracked.

  Lulu’s eyes went wide. She turned to Emma. God knows why Lulu turned to her, because she’d arrived at the party the same time as herself, but she asked anyway, “Has she been drinking?”

  “No.” Emma shook her head, at a loss for other words.

  Lulu exhaled her relief.

  After a long, long silence, Audrey coughed. “That’s not Lo’s car.”

  Emma and Lulu stared at Audrey. Then they pivoted and stared at the curb where the truck had been. And Lo didn’t drive a truck.

  “Does that mean,” said Lulu. “Was that—”

  “—Luke’s truck,” said Audrey and Emma in a deadpan.

  “So. Somewhere out there.” Lulu waved to the expanse of the neighborhood. “Is a crying Latina girl in the borrowed property of her white ex-not-quite-boyfriend.”

  Audrey and Emma stared, wide-eyed and terrified. Dolores Campo being pulled over in the car of a Luke Westin would not go over well, even under the best of circumstances.

  “If Luke finds out.” Lulu shook her head.

  “He can’t find out!” said Audrey.

  “If he does. There’ll be hell to pay.”

  “You think he’d report it as stolen?” breathed Emma.

  Lulu nodded. And then she prayed to God, the prophet, and the other four saints whose names she blessedly managed to remember. Because they had to find Lo before Scumbag Luke realized his car was missing.

  Emma put her fingers to her temples. “We need to figure out where she went.”

  “She’s not picking up her calls,” said Audrey, who had already gotten her phone out.

  “Get in my car,” said Lulu. “We’ll drive around and find her. She can’t have gone far.”

  * * *

  But Lo was nowhere to be found. Not three blocks up, not four blocks over. And while a pickup truck might be conspicuous elsewhere, in Texas you couldn’t throw a rock without hitting one. Lulu grew frenetic, turning, turning, turning around corners, ducking into strange alleyways, driving past the same houses at least half a dozen times.

  “She’s not here.” Audrey, trying to break Lulu out of the searching haze, touched Lulu’s arm. “She’s gone.”

  “I’m trying again. I’m calling.” Lulu pulled over. She got out her phone and dialed Lo one last time. Her Hail Mary. Her ninety-nine names of God. The phone rang three times. Four. Five, six, seven. Half of ring number eight started when the phone clicked over. Lulu thought the answering machine had picked up. But the only sound was static air.

  “Lo?” said Lulu. “Lo, are you there?”

  A quiet “Yes” followed.

  “Ohthankgod.” Relief washed through Lulu.

  Emma and Audrey looked at her, bright-eyed, hopeful.

  Lulu nodded and held up her hand. “Where are you?”

  “I’m at Sam Houston,” said Lo.

  “The statue of Sam Houston?” Lulu couldn’t believe it. “Lo. That’s in Huntsville.”

  “I know,” said Lo.

  “How did you get to Huntsville?”

  “I got on the freeway and I didn’t stop,” said Lo as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

  Lulu didn’t know what to say for a moment. “Can you even pull over at the statue of Sam Houston?”

  “I dunno,” said Lo. “I just did.”

  “Will you stay there? Please stay there.”

  “All right,” said Lo. “I’m out of gas anyway.”

  “We’re coming to get you. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “All right,” said Lo.

  And Lulu drove to Huntsville, with Audrey and Emma in tow.

  * * *

  When they found Lo, she was sitting on Sam Houston’s right foot, lit up by a set of floodlights. Towering over her was sixty-seven feet of Texas heritage. The enormous statue of Old Sam was a monstrosity, but it was their monstrosity. Lulu leaped out of her seat, the car warning her with a repeating ding that her keys were still in the ignition. She didn’t care. She clambered onto the platform and grabbed Lo into a fierce hug.

  “That was so, so brave.” Lulu couldn’t believe Lo had taken Scumbag Luke’s truck. “And stupid. Unbelievably stupid.”

  Lulu wouldn’t let go of Lo, so when Audrey and Emma finally scrambled their way up the marble platform, they had to huddle around them both.

  “What happened to the sneaky Lo?” asked Lulu, through a mouthful of Audrey’s hair.

  “She had a leave of absence, I guess,” said Lo with a sniffle.

  “Oh no, not you, too. You’re too tough to cry, aren’t you?” Audrey squeezed the group hug tighter.

  “Says who?” said Lo, tears welling, sniffles again threatening. Nobody had ever seen Lo like this. Not when Michael Rossi had called her Lolita. Not when she’d gotten a black eye after her first kickboxing class. Not even when Lulu had blamed her for Dane Anderson and cruelly called her a whore.

  “It’s like the rules of our friendship.” Emma’s voice cracked. “Lo is too tough to cry or crack.”

  “You’re supposed to be too nice to abandon us.” Lo began to cry in earnest.

  Lulu felt tears falling across her cheeks, but she refused to register them. “And Audrey’s supposed to be too proper to get falling-down drunk.”

  Audrey sniffled loudly. “Well, Lulu’s supposed to be too wild to care at all.”

  This renewed a fresh round of wailing for everyone. Luckily, Emma cried like Claire Danes, so her sobs muffled the sound of everyone else. She was an ugly mourner, Emma Walker was. And soon the sound of her howls caused Lulu to begin to laugh. Once Lulu laughed, Audrey had to laugh, and so too did Emma, and finally, wonderfully, Lo cracked a smile.

  “Y’all are all idiots. But you’re my idiots.” Lo squeezed them all tighter. She pulled back and dried her eyes against her sleeve. She looked over the fuel-less truck and said simply, “That’s Scumbag Luke’s.”

  “Leave it,” said Emma.

  The other three girls went slack jawed. Emma held out her hands for the keys. Lo dropped them into her palm without a word. Emma opened the door, wiped down the keys with her shirt, then stuffed them up in the driver-side visor. She wiped down the steering wheel, then she closed the door and wiped the handle.

  “Leave it,” she said again. “Let’s go.”

  Emma herded Lo into the passenger seat. Lulu got in the driver’s side. Audrey and Emma climbed into the back.

  “Lulu?” said Lo.

  “Yeah?” said Lulu, ready to take the car out of park.

  “Do you still have scissors in your purse?” asked Lo.

  “I think so, why?”

  “Can you not go for a second?” asked Lo, her voice unnaturally small and quiet.

  Lulu left the
car in park. She turned around and Audrey was already ready with her purse. Lulu dug in her bag and eventually pulled out a pair of craft scissors, blunted at the ends. “Will these do?”

  Lo’s gaze steeled. “They’ll have to.”

  Lulu tried to hand them over, but Lo wouldn’t take them. She shook her head and stared Lulu directly in the eyes. “I need you to cut my hair.”

  “What?!” screeched Audrey.

  “My hair. I need you to cut it.” And then Lo’s bravado became truly bold. She pointed to her jawline. “To here.”

  Seeing the look of pure determination hardening on Lo’s face, Lulu knew better than to protest. But. “Can’t we at least find a beauty supply store around here and get some proper hair scissors?”

  “No. They won’t be open and you know it. No stalling,” said Lo.

  “But your hair!” cried Audrey from the back seat.

  “Lulu.” Lo was determined. That much was obvious.

  “You have to promise to not be mad at me if I do it,” said Lulu.

  “I promise,” said Lo.

  “What do you promise?” Lulu had to cover all her bases on this one. She’d go with Lo to the ends of the earth, but she needed to hear the command clearly and from the first.

  “I promise to not be mad at you if I change my mind after you’ve cut my hair. Satisfied?”

  “Yes,” said Lulu.

  “Don’t do it, Lulu!” said Audrey.

  “God, Audrey. Quit being such an Amy March,” said Lulu.

  “I am not Amy March!” said Audrey.

  “Yes, you are, with your ‘Jo! Your one beauty!’ and all that crap,” said Lulu.

  Lo raised an eyebrow. It was the only piece of her stalwart expression that had moved. “Amy’s always been my favorite.”

  “You would,” said Lulu. “Mine was always Jo.”

  “If she’s Amy—” Lo started.

  “—and I am not Amy,” said Audrey.

  “Whatever, so she’s Amy. Then I’m Jo,” said Lo.

  “Oh, you’re not Jo. I’m Jo. You’re Meg,” said Lulu. “Definitely Meg.”

  “Meg?!” said Lo.

  “I’d rather be Meg than Amy,” said Audrey, crossing her arms and looking out the window. She was in her protest mode. Her pout would be next.