Educational Experience

Part III--Chapter 5

If you've ever had characters "mutiny" and march off in a new direction you hadn't thought of before-most writers have-you'll know how I felt when this latest very long chapter took me to a place I wasn't sure I wanted to go. But when Amelie started to tell her story, I decided to let her, even if it winds up being cut or changed in the final draft. She's a remarkable woman! And WHAT a party!

Come DANCE with us!

Okay, here's what little I accurately remember about Freak Bowl. I say that because I got really high for the first time in, like, years, that night. On champagne, mostly, but later on Weezee hit me with this giant blunt full of atomic bud that dentists should use instead of that laughing gas stuff they give you, swear to God.

But it was an epic night. God, it was beautiful. I don't know if I can even begin to take you there, because aside from what my crew was doing, there was mad stuff just jumping off all over the place and nobody could've kept up with all of it.

But let's start all the way from when we were getting ready. Just because that I can do without sounding like I'm on crack or something.

First, we ran to our apartments to drop off all the stuff we'd bought. It wasn't that big a haul this time, because we didn't have time to really go nuts. Only thing that mattered was we'd spent  was enough to make those clerks enough commission to go on a cruise or something, I bet.

So we just threw all the bags and boxes and whatnot down and ran to get into some comfy clothes. I mean, jeans, t-shirts, ultra-casual. Except the girls had had these little midriff-baring bowling shirts made to fit them real nice.

They had "Fun House Girlz" on the back, too. We'd be selling them once we opened. Ones for men, too—not cropped like the women's version, though. And only the initials on the back. What guy wants to walk around with "Fun House Girlz" on his shirt? Though you never know...

Wyatt looked 'way happier in jeans. She also washed off all the war paint, too, even though it had seemed pretty natural to me. And when I came in the bathroom to comb my hair, she walked up behind me and ran a hand up my bare back, kind of like how some cats will touch you to get you to pay attention to them.

I turned and hugged her just because I'm always glad to see her. It's a reflex thing. I see her, I want to lay hands on her. No matter what else is going on between us.

And she looked up at me with these big, warm eyes and said, "So, on what should have been one of the best days of your life, I chose to be a total buzz kill. Discuss."

"What's this jive you're talking now?"

She laughed and sort of slapped her hands on my chest like she was trying to shut me up or wake me up or something.

"The dress," she said. "The attitude. You've given me whole worlds on a silver platter, things I would never have experienced otherwise. And all I've done is fight you at every turn."

"Yeah, but it's weird for you," I said. "I know that. When I first started hanging around with JJ I felt like we were living at warp speed. Couldn't catch my breath or think straight. It was just this steady stream of new things coming and going. Like when those waiters snatch away alla plates before you figure out whether you even like what's on 'em or not. Or what they are, even. So you shut down. Or you fight, like you said, if you're strong enough. Just to have some control over your life."

She ran her fingers through my wet hair and said, "And of course, I knew you would say something like that."

"Quit talkin' nonsense," I said. "What time is it? I bet they're freaking out down there."