“Dude. What’s up?”
Brian sighs like he’s been desperate for someone to ask. “Aw, man,” he says, shaking his head. “There’s this girl… I think…. Dude, I think she’s my soul mate.”
“Okay,” I say. Soul mate is a new one. “Who is she?”
“Callie,” he moans, like this is the end of the world. “I accidentally barfed on her cat and she was so cool about it, man.”
“You what?”
“I was drunk, right, and I kinda wandered into an alley, only it was more like a space between two houses, and there was this nice step and I sat down but then I didn’t feel well and I barfed. But I didn’t see that there was this cat on the porch—”
“You wandered into someone’s backyard and sat on their porch?”
“Well. Yeah. But I didn’t know that at the time.”
I shake my head.
“Anyway, the cat just sat there, man. It, like, let me barf on it. And then it started to try and lick it up. And this girl came out and saw me and I was like, ‘Dude, is this your cat, ’cause he’s messed up,’ and she was so nice and asked if I needed help, and she’s so pretty, bro, like, seriously, the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.”
I have no words. “Um, and she works at this pizza place?”
“What? No. She’s a hairstylist.”
“So…?”
“Oh, she recommended it to me. I gave her my phone number and we’ve been talking.”
“That’s great, Bri. I kind of can’t believe that some girl whose cat you puked on wanted anything to do with you. But that’s great.”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen her again, but we’ve talked, like, every night for the last three weeks. And when I said Pop and I got pizza a lot, she was like, ‘Do you ever go to Blackbird?’ It’s her favorite. So I got it for me and Pop the other day. And, um, yeah, it did taste like cardboard. She’s one of those whattaya call ’ems that doesn’t eat anything that comes from animals? So it was that kind of pizza.”
“Vegan?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Oh my god, you fed Pop vegan pizza? That’s hilarious, bro. Did he know what it was?”
“Nah. He liked the fake sausage part. But, uh, I thought it kinda tasted like feet.” A look of panic crosses his face. “Don’t tell Callie, though! If you meet her, I mean. I, uh, I sorta told her that I liked it.”
I laugh. “I won’t tell her,” I reassure him. “But you should probably be honest with her, or you’ll end up eating vegan pizza for the rest of your life.”
I’m joking, but Brian looks horrified.
“Oh shit, that’s no good. Thanks, bro.”
THE PHONE ringing jolts me out of a dead sleep, and I almost break Rafe’s nose with my head as I jerk upright.
“Fuck, sorry!”
“Hello?” Rafe says, instantly alert. I look over at the clock. It’s two thirty in the morning.
“Uncle Rafe?” says the tinny voice on the other end of the call. “Can you come get me?”
“Calm down, Cam. Tell me what’s going on.”
Her explanation is garbled, but I hear something about a party and her mom being mad and something about a boy that makes Rafe’s whole body go rigid.
“Where are you, sweetheart? … Can you ask someone? … Okay, listen. It’s going to take me a little while to get there because I’m not at home. I want you to go back inside, okay? Then use the GPS on your phone and text me exactly where you are.” Rafe’s voice seems to relax Camille the same way it relaxes me.
“Stand by the front door so you can see out the window when I get there. Don’t take anything from anyone. Not even water. Not gum. Not a damn ChapStick, Camille, do you understand me? I’ll call you when I’m a minute away and then you come outside. Not before that. If someone tries to get you to move away from the front door, you tell them your uncle is coming and you’re scared of making him mad, okay?” Rafe is already up and searching around for his clothes in the dark as he hangs up the phone.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s stupid and dead, that’s what she is,” Rafe growls. “Sorry to wake you. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He leans in to kiss me briefly.
“Wait,” I say, climbing out of bed and pulling some jeans on. “I’ll drive. That way you can call Cam when we’re close and you can just jump out of the car.”
“I—okay. Thanks, Colin.”
I smile even though I know he can’t see in the dark. It feels good to be able to do something for Rafe for a change.
He gives me directions from his phone between muttering about how much trouble Camille’s going to be in. “She went to some damn rave with a bunch of college kids. Little idiots with credit cards, I swear. And then went back to a house party with them. I know she took fucking E at that damn rave. And now some boy—”