Gandhi's Guide to Getting By

chapter twenty-one

Stella looks like a mess. Her blonde hair is in some sort of haphazard ponytail, half down, half up. Her mascara is smudged. Her clothes, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, look like they could use an ironing. By the time we get there, Uncle Frank, who has already left, has managed to "clear everything up", meaning the police aren't going to bother to prosecute someone for stealing a cell phone, especially when the guy whose cell phone she took isn't pressing any charges. He wants to get as far away from Stella as possible. He doesn't even care to hear an apology. "Really," he says to Stella, "I'm just happy to get my phone back."

"Maybe I can buy you lunch or something?" Stella says.

"Please don't," he says.

"No, really, I insist."

"Keep talking to me," he says, "and I will press charges."

"Oh," Stella says.

"See you," he says. He quickly makes his way down the front steps of the police station. "Too bad," Kate says as we watch him disappear down the street, "He was actually cute."

"Maybe we should go back to my place," Jen suggests.

"Or mine," Kate says. They both look perfect, Jen in a nice dress and heels, Kate in a tight skirt and flats. Anne, too, looks good in a loose black dress.

Stella says she just wants to go home and crawl into bed, but none of us are about to let her do that. It's two in the afternoon and no one, at least those of us who have work, plans on going back today. My phone, this time from Dad. I don't answer although I do check to see whether Matt has phoned. He hasn't, not since this morning. Nor has he texted. Justin, on the other hand, has. Apparently, three people have "dropped" by to talk, only "surprise surprise" I'm not here so he's got some volunteer listening to them, only the volunteer looks like she's about to fall asleep, she's so bored. Maybe it would help if we had coffee, but the line up at the Starbucks in Times square is shorter than the line up at the Young Office and guess who still can't get a cup of coffee. Get here ASAP BTW IHY.

There shouldn't be any one dropping by, I text back, I didn't put out any notice.

Word of mouth. JGHT

"Anyone know what the letters IHY and JGHT stand for?"

"I hate you and Just get here tomorrow," Shelby says.

"How did you know that?"

"How did you not?" Shelby looks at me, her hazel eyes surprised.

YTRGRESDWWMN, I text back. I have no idea what any of these letters stand for, but trying to decipher them should occupy Justin for the rest of the day.

"So my place or Jen's?" Kate says.

"What about The Whitney?" I say.

"What?" Kate says. Shelby is already shaking her head from side to side. She doesn't really like art and Stella is saying something about how if she goes anywhere it has to be somewhere with a couch or bed. "Oh, and a blanket," she says, "Definitely need a blanket. And a drink."

"Oh come on," I say as I try to hail two cabs. "They've got a great exhibit going on."

"No way am I in the mood to see art," Shelby says. "Besides, that's just weird given what we've all been through."

"I'm not in the mood to see art either," Stella says, "Unless it's an exhibit on beds. Also, it's about what I've been through not what we've been through."

Jen says I've missed the point. "This is so we can talk. Stella needs to talk right now, not look at art."

"Actually Stella needs to get drunk right now," Stella says. "And she needs a bed and she needs a blanket."