by Lila Felix
She looked at me for an answer to my spaz-out but I could give her none—yet. She wrote her number on the back of the card along with her address with a heart in the middle of the string of numbers instead of a dash. Either I was losing it or I really had it bad already—‘cause damn that heart was really cute.
I tucked it into my wallet and opened her door for her. I waited until her car started before moving. She waved at me and then drove away. I tried my damndest not to read too much into it but it couldn’t be helped.
I stalked over to where Nixon waited for me. He looked distracted.
“What’s up with you,” I asked him sincerely.
He showed me the screen of his phone, “I need you to take me to the airport.”
Chapter 23
Nixon
The recycled, refurbished, rubber smelling air on airplanes made me want to sprout wings and just—well—wing it.
I got the first text while Mad chatted up Storey. I feigned the need to pee and fled to the bathroom, not wanting to alert them. It was my Dad, and he said my Mom had been in an accident. Also, it said to wait for more info. Wait? Wait? How in the hell was I supposed to sit and wait for more info? It’s like when the doctor gives you a test for an illness and then pats you on the shoulder and says, ‘we’ll contact you after the weekend with the results.’ I waited as long as I could in the bathroom and then went back to the table. I might as well watch Maddox’s song and dance, maybe it would distract me.
I texted him over and over until finally he answered. She was driving not drunk as I expected but overdosed on lithium. Lithium? I didn’t even know why a person would take lithium much less why my mother would take it. I booked a flight on the next plane out of LAX. It left at midnight. That way I didn’t wreck Maddox’s semi-date.
I showed him my phone, not trusting my own voice enough to tell him what happened to my mom. He took the phone from my hand and read the text messages, scrolling them up and down, re-reading. And I knew my friend. His reaction would be guttural and instant.
“Let’s go. We’ll pack up tonight and we can be home in a day or so if we take turns driving.”
He made a move to get into the passenger door but I put a stop to it. “No, Mad. You need to stay. Find your Dad. Hell,” I scrubbed the back of my neck furiously, not good at all with anything remotely mushy. “If nothing else, take the shot with this girl. Who knows, you might actually get to first base.” I punched him in the arm at some lame attempt to lighten the situation.
“No man, it’s fine. He’s probably not even here. And Storey, well, it’s fine. I’m not letting you go home by yourself.”
I rolled my eyes at him. His eyes glazed over a bit as he said her name. I could see what he couldn’t. He was long gone. “Nope, I already booked the flight. Take me to get my stuff. Keep the Rover. I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer.” He didn’t put up much of a fight, which meant I was right all along.
We got in the truck and hauled ass back to the motel to get my stuff and then to the airport. I barely made it on time for my flight.
“Are you sure?” He asked one more time.
“Yeah man. I’m sure. I have my other truck at home. Just take care of her, okay? She’s sensitive.” I patted the hood of my car.
That made him laugh and I left him there on the curb of the biggest airport I’d ever seen, alone to his devices. I got on the plane and got one more text from my dad before I had to turn my phone off.
They’re taking her to Woodrow Sinclair Hospital. Come home.
I didn’t know much about whatever my mom overdosed on or what it treated. But this much I did know. Woodrow Sinclair was the mental facility that people only whispered about.
Chapter 24
Storey
I think I’m a hoarder. Not one of the gross hoarders that uses the bathroom in a bucket. But the clean kind that simply loves to shop. But everything is completely organized. So am I a hoarder or a just a girl who likes clothes? Oooh, I forgot about that yellow scarf.
I got home and did that completely girly thing where I shut the door and collapsed against it in an estrogen fueled pool. I let myself just sit there for a few minutes, purse spilling out onto the floor, keys digging a well in my palm. I plunked my head back against the door a couple of times in pure excitement. He was just so cool and calm. And his eyes, I could spend a lifetime staring at one and then beg for another round just to gaze into the other one. He probably thought I was challenged, bobbing back and forth between one eye and the other.
I finally got up and changed into my pajamas. And then it hit me. I didn’t ask if he was seeing someone. I didn’t ask how old he was. Well, technically I asked but didn’t make sure to get the answer. I was such a giddy mess, I blubbered on and on about skating and derby to his cousin when I should’ve been getting pertinent information about Maddox. I made a vow to myself to find out the important things when I saw him again. If I saw him again.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I checked the calendar and saw a shoot I’d forgotten about in Malibu the day after next. I was so ditzy about appointments, I had to write everything down. I’d forget my own ass if it wasn’t attached.
I smiled at the word Malibu. I loved it. On TV they portrayed it as some huge place with tons of people. But really the only thing of real interest, other than the beach, was Pepperdine University. It had some small shops and restaurants but all in all it was a quiet place.
I got in bed but not before checking the other bedroom in the apartment. Liza didn’t usually come home very often but I checked in her closet every night anyway, for creepers. I opened the window before getting into bed and before I knew it, I was out cold.
The next morning I was awoken earlier than usual by a text. My heart jolted into my throat when I saw the phone number, immediately coming to the conclusion that it was Simon. The area code was a New Orleans region code. I clenched my pillow against my chest as I slid the bar across the phone and read it.
It’s Maddox. Dinner tonight?
I chastised him through the phone yelling ‘Duh’ at it before typing my reply. I had to play with him just a tad.
Who?
His response came quickly and it made me snort. He fell for it.
Um…Maddox from last night with Nixon.
Though I thought of tons of ways to string this hoax along, I relented.
Duh. Just kidding. Of course, name the place and time.
It took a while for him to answer and my heart sank little by little with every ticking second. After ten minutes I cussed at myself for playing around.
Sorry? It was a joke.
Did I make you sweat?
Did he make me sweat? I wouldn’t really call the heat he made me feel the kind that made you sweat.
Understatement. How about Stanley’s Pizza on Pico @6.
K, see you then.
I took the day to get a pedicure and a manicure. Last time I forgot to get a pedicure was the day the photographer wanted a shot of me lying on my belly with my feet in the air. Needless to say, there was some major airbrushing done because when the pictures came out, my feet were near perfect.
I read the rest of my latest book conquest as the scalding water worked its magic on my feet. After two hours and apple red toenails and fingernails, I made my way to my agent’s office to see if I had a paycheck or not. I hoped she wasn’t there. I wasn’t really ready to have an ‘I’m not renewing my contract’ interrogation just yet. I slipped past the front door of the office and pointed my moving feet directly for the Human Resources office. The crotchety Mrs. Stephens stiffly shoved an envelope at me then shooed me away while she dogged someone out over the phone. I tore it open and found that I was paid for both days of the car show even though I only worked one. I shrugged and took it. It was their choice to pay me or not.
I walked down to the smoothie joint and grabbed a Pineapple Junkie. I got a call from my dad and left the shop to talk while I strolled home. When I was a kid, my mom and I were close
. After I started dating Simon she would pull me aside once in a while and tell me to be careful or be safe. She looked at him like he was a criminal—and he was, I just didn’t know it yet. After everything came out she tried to reach out to me but I was a jackass. I doubted she looked for an admittance of how right she was but in my mind, she represented the voice that I was too stupid to listen to. And when she and I fell apart, my dad picked up the pieces. And it’s been that way ever since. He calls, asks me the pertinent questions, gives me her love secondhand and then hangs up.
I got home and though there were three more hours until our date, I had to get in my closet and pick out what I would wear. Yes, I was that girl. But I never apologized.
I ended up picking out a pair of tight low waist jeans with holes in the knees. I grabbed a thin gray vintage Rolling Stones t shirt that once belonged to Renee’s brother Ellis. But I stole it while he wasn’t looking. I laid it out on my bed and picked out underwear, bra, shoes, and even the purse I would bring. I wouldn’t have this luxury when I went to college so I took the opportunity while I had it.
I took a long hot bath with tons of strawberry scented bubbles and turned on Patsy Cline on my iPod. Listening to oldies was part of the job at first since they were played at all the vintage car shows. And then they started to not suck so hard. And now I love any oldies song—especially Patsy Cline.
And I would enjoy what was left of my job. But it always felt like a bridge. Planks and ropes which connected my former life full of crushed plans and unfulfilled dreams to the one I wanted. I’d wanted to be a teacher since my first day of school and while most kids’ dreams changed over time, mine never had. A thought hit me. I’d never brought a guy to one of my shoots but I wondered if Maddox would want to go. It was worth a shot. I felt this need to have him see what I did—almost a need for him to not approve but be proud of me.
I shook my head and sat up in the bathtub. Where in the hell did that come from?
I heard Patsy singing about walking at midnight and looked at the heart shaped clock on my bathroom wall. I screamed a little, realized that I’d been in the tub for nearly two hours and now only had an hour to get ready. I hated getting ready in a frenzy. It made my stomach jumpy.
I shimmied into my red lace boy shorts and matching bra. The jeans went on next and then the t shirt. I twirled in front of my full length mirror to check everything. My red bra could be seen in the back because the shirt was so thin but I didn’t have time to overthink it. Hopefully he wouldn’t be looking at my back. I blow dried out my hair as fast as I could and brushed it up into a cute ponytail with my side parted bangs pinned back. My agent wanted me to dye my hair blonde when she first met me but my first shoot’s photographer loved that I was a brunette. I was told in no nice terms to never dye my hair. I slammed my make-up bag into the sink and turned it over, spilling the contents out so I could better access them. I went for the simple mascara, black eyeliner and red lipstick. It was classic and I could draw that thick black line on my eyelid as easy as signing my own name. I finished getting ready and put on my watch and some little heart earrings in. Shoes on and I was ready to go.
I struck a pose in the mirror and then rolled my eyes at myself. Who was I kidding? I could make the guys follow me, but I wanted to make this one stay.
I drove through traffic to Pico and after twenty or so minutes found a parking spot. Driving anywhere in Los Angeles County was the pits and Venice was no exception. I flung open the door to Stanley’s and let the smells of pepperoni and the sounds of Jerry Lee Lewis envelop me. Some kids brushed past me meeting another group in the back. And that’s when I saw him in the back, arm thrown over the back of the bench like he was entertaining an invisible dame. He tugged at the thighs of his jeans straightening some nonexistent wrinkles and looking very uncomfortable. I bypassed the hostess and weaved my way through the congregations of pizza eaters. When he spotted me, he stood and I stopped in my tracks feeling like I should curtsy or pull out my handkerchief and blot my forehead—whatever mid century Southern belles did when they swooned.
I sat down on the opposite bench and he waited until I sat before sitting himself. His manners were freakin’ impeccable. I felt like a social pariah in comparison.
The waitress brought our menus and he turned an odd shade of green even under the weird lighting in this place.
“Are you ok?” I asked though it was clear he wasn’t.
He put down his menu and cleared his throat and motioned me to move closer to him with a wave of his hand.
“I have to tell you something.” He whispered and the scent of his cinnamon breath had me wringing my hands together under the table.
“What?” Come on, give me something good.
“I hate pizza. Since I was about six years old—hate it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Well, you seemed pretty hellbent on it. You wanted it yesterday and we intercepted you. Then you said it again today and I just couldn’t tell you ‘no’.”
“How old are you?” I asked him. I acted like it was part of the conversation but really it was my curiosity.
“I’m eighteen.”
I sat back in my bench and gave him my best glare with arms folded across my chest. “Come on Mad, it’s been twelve years since you had it. You’ve got to try it again. If you don’t like it, we’ll leave and never eat pizza again.” I cocked my eyebrow to him in challenge.
He pursed his lips together trying to hide a smile and when he did a dimple formed in his chin. He must’ve known it was there and was the object of my admiration because he quickly schooled his face in a way that made the dimple fade.
“Ok, one bite.” He nodded his agreement.
“Should we shake on it?” I extended my hand but the waiter appeared and took my order for a large carnivore with extra cheese. I could see Maddox shudder across the table. He picked at his flimsy napkin and started in on his inquisition.
“Tell me about modeling.” It was a softly spoken command.
“Well, it started on Halloween of my Senior year of high school. I was at a party and decided to go as a pin-up girl. The party was at my mom’s friend’s house whose wife was a modeling agent. She saw me and I signed a couple of months later after I got some things straight. I moved here the summer after I graduated high school and I’ve been doing it ever since. I really love it. It’s not really work for me.”
He had his chin propped up on the palm of his hand and he was either extremely bored or fervently interested. Which one, I had yet to tell.
“You’re really good at it too. I can tell you love it, Missy.” He called me by my stage name. My eyebrow let him know I was onto him. Unless he’d purposefully searched for me, there was no way he would’ve found out my name. For once in my life, I was pleased as punch to have a new stalker.
“You looked me up?” I was both terrified and intrigued.
The top tips of his ears reddened and he shrugged. “How could I not? If you looked that damn beautiful on the beach not even trying—I couldn’t imagine how they could make you look any better.”
Now it was my turn to blush. Though I’d been complimented by people in lines a mile long, never had I ever been spoken to so sincerely. I could only thank him and absorb the flattery.
“Wow. Thank you. But I won’t be a model for long. I start school in August, there won’t be much time for modeling after that.” He straightened his posture and leaned over the table again.
“And what is Missy Hellcat gonna be when she grows up?” He laughed.
“I hope to be a teacher—high school. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. But I had one my Senior year who helped me through some stuff. I’d like to do that too—maybe help a kid like me.”
He opened his perfectly shaped lips to say something but was shut up by his nemesis—the pizza. His expression turned to one of pain and discomfort and it made me laugh. What kind of guy in the history of guys has ever looked uncomfortable in front of a p
izza?
“You promised—one bite.” He took a piece from the pan using only his fingertips like the damned thing had cooties. I bit the insides of my lips trying not to laugh.
“Shit,” I heard him whisper to no one before he took a bite. After three or four movements of his jaw, I could see the verdict before even asking. He loved it. I knew he would. The pure joy that slowly rose over his face was priceless.
“This is not what I remember.”
Chapter 25
Mad
This was pizza? What in the Hell did they give me when I was a kid because it was shit and this was heaven.
God’s honest truth—I would’ve eaten pickled horse teeth if she asked me to flashing one of those smiles. And I couldn’t help but hang on every single word she said. I felt like a toddler, experiencing everything for the first time.
Her face lit up as she realized with me that in fact I was a liar. I did like pizza. I mentally gave six year old Maddox the finger—he gave it right back to me.
“Oh, you love it. I knew it!” She bounced on her side of the table before filling her own plate and digging in. Before I knew it, I had downed five slices and had never been so sated in my life. I also felt like an ass for pigging out like I did.
“I’m sorry. That was so good. I can’t believe I’ve been denying myself that.”
She laughed and winked at me. “It’s great. I feel all privileged for changing your mind about it. It’s like I scored a point for pizzas everywhere.”
The conversation moved back to her. I also explained that Nixon had left and why he left. And before I knew it, we were being asked to vacate by the waiter. I wasn’t ready to let her go yet but also didn’t want to be creepy by asking for more time. I walked her to her car and the plague of who I was consumed me. I couldn’t hold her hand. I couldn’t tower over her and be the audience to the look in her eyes turning from want to need. There would be no question about first date kisses. I cleared the self-hate out of my throat and thanked her for the night. She looked mildly confused but bid her goodbyes and left.