The Hard Bounce - [27]

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about what?” She was playing it casual, but a little too much.

“Nothing happened. We kissed. That was it.” I didn’t lay the blame on her for the kissing, even though she started it. It wasn’t like I was an unwilling participant.

“We did, huh?” Bright red stormed into her cheeks and she looked away, probably disappointed that the frog hadn’t turned into a prince.

“Listen, it’s no biggie.” I felt my own face flushing, suddenly embarrassed to be the ugly fuck I am.

“We really have to leave, though.” She looked at her watch again, furrowing her eyebrows. “I am so late.”

We made our way down the stairs and into the harsh morning light. I walked her to her car, and she unlocked her door and stopped. “I didn’t… offend you or anything last night, did I?” She made another pained face in anticipation of my response.

“At the bar? Yeah. With the smooch? Not at all.”

She winced. “Sorry about that. Thanks for not… You know.”

“I know.” I didn’t want to ask what kind of guy she thought I was. I already knew. “Forget it.”

With a tight smile, she got into the car and pulled away. I stood there, angry with myself for reasons I couldn’t put my finger on.

Chapter Nine

“Where the fuck you been?” It was nice to know Junior cared.

“Sorry, Ma. Did I break curfew?” I had called the office to check for messages and was surprised when he answered the phone. I was at a pay phone in the little coffee shop where I’d stopped to get breakfast. Once again, it was way early for me and the three cups of weak coffee couldn’t cut through the wad of cotton where my brain used to be. My muscles were still stiff from the awkward position I’d slept in, my stomach full of greasy eggs.

“Nobody likes a smartass, Boo. That little prick Paul called the office six times before I checked the machine this morning. I tried you at home and couldn’t leave a message. Why didn’t you pick up?”

“I wasn’t at home.”

He paused, waiting for me to continue. I didn’t.

“You can tell me later. I came in here to catch the kid the next time he called, and get this… he only wants to talk to you.” Junior said the last line in a nasal singsong.

“I think you scare him, buddy.”

“Good. He’s gonna be more scared if I get my hands on him. Where are you?”

“Cosmo’s Diner on Mt. Vernon. Did he say when he’d be calling back?”

“He said he’d call back every hour.”

I checked my watch. It was a quarter to eleven. “Listen, when he calls back, tell him to meet me here. Have him take a cab and I’ll pay for it. Where will you be?”

“I’m going back home and sleeping. Way past my bedtime.”

Almost forty-five minutes later, Paul arrived, towing a squat Goth girl who was dressed in what looked like a black wedding dress. Their expressions gave me pause, the two of them wearing faces like a pair of slapped asses.

Black eyeliner had dried in streaks down the girl’s face, and I wondered if they were from her crying or had been drawn on intentionally. Enough goop was caked under her eyes to give her a vaguely raccoonish look.

They looked fucked up. “You two on anything?”

“What?” Paul asked.

“I’m not supplying you two with a munchie feast if you’re stoned, Paul.” Bad enough I was feeding Paul. I didn’t need to feed his chubby girlfriend, too.

“Yo, man. That’s messed up. Besides, Tammy’s straight edge.” Paul clucked his tongue. “I bring you news, and you act like my old man. That’s so messed up.”

“What have you got, Paul?” I sipped another mouthful of the dirty water in my cup.

The girl answered me with huge whooping sobs. “He hurt her so bad.”

I shook my head, her non sequitur throwing me for a loop. “What? Who? Who hurt who? Who’s he?”

The girl just wept harder. The waitress shot us a look, and I felt my face burn with embarrassment at the spectacle.

“Cassie,” Paul whispered.

My skin rose like an ice cube had been placed on the back of my neck. “Who did?”

The girl kept crying.

“Who hurt Cassie?” I said, a bit too sharply. I didn’t have the patience to play the crying game with an overwrought mascara case.

“I don’t know!” Her words were spaced by sobs. Fresh trails of makeup ran down her round cheeks. Black tears splashed on the table, pooling into an inky puddle.

“Where? Where is she?”

“Tammy saw her at a party last night,” Paul said.

“She saw Cassie at a party last night?”

“She saw a DVD. A movie at the party.”

Holy Shit at the Pearly Gates.

“What party?” My goosebumps decided to call some friends over.

Tammy couldn’t answer me. She was lost in her fear and pubescent anguish.

I jumped up from the table and ran back to the pay phone. With trembling fingers, I called the office again. The phone rang four times before the machine picked up. I hung up and called Junior’s apartment. His machine picked up immediately. “Junior! Pick up! Emergency! Yo, Junior!”

The phone beeped again. “What is wrong with you, man? Can’t a brother get some beauty sleep?”

“Is Miss Kitty back yet?” My foot was tapping impatiently. Screw the coffee, I was wide-awake now.

“Yeah. Just got her back yesterday. Why?” Junior yawned.

“I’m still at the diner on Mt. Vernon. Get here, ASAP.”