Wile E. Coyote stood on the top of a mesa, watching a plume of dust trace a lonely road. He fired up the jet pack strapped to his back, cinched his crash helmet on tight, and lowered his visor. He flipped a switch and was off.
I smiled over at Brady. He didn't smile back. "How was the race?" I said.
"Okay. We met some --"
The roadrunner BEEP BEEPED and stole his concentration.
"Huh?" I asked.
"Never mind." He grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels.
I pulled the controller out of his hands and clicked back to the cartoon. "Either we have a real conversation, or the coyote is toast."
"So what do you want to talk about?" he asked.
"Anything," I said. Then I rushed to fill the silence before the television sucked him back in. "You were saying you met someone last night?"
He opened his mouth to speak but the BWHAAAAA of a train whistle interrupted. We turned to the TV screen in time to watch poor, unsuspecting Wile E. get flattened, yet again.
"Last night?" I said.
He shrugged and reached for the remote. "We met girls."
"Yeah, right."
"You don't think that's possible?"
"At a racetrack? Not really," I said.
"Some girls are actually interested in cars," Brady said.
"Good for them."
"Aren't you jealous?"
"Should I be?" I asked. "Are you interested in girls who are interested in cars?"
"I didn't say that." He stretched for the remote again.
I accidentally dropped it behind the couch. "What are you saying?"
After a little more prodding, he started by saying there happen to be a lot of girls at the racetrack. One of those girls had dark hair, like Madison's, and a dimple in her chin. "And she knows all about engines." Brady practically gushed once he got going.
"Did she flirt with you?"
Brady smiled. "You are jealous."
"I didn't say that."
"But you are. I can tell," he said.
I flicked his arm.
"Jeez." He rubbed the spot. "Do you really think you have a right to be mad? All I did was talk to a girl for a few minutes while you – " He stopped talking and turned back to the TV where Wile E. was busy setting a trap.
"While I what?" I asked.
"While you spent the whole night hanging out with boys."
"Hanging out with boys? I was with Craig."
"And Dave."
"Yes. And Dave. I was hanging out with our friends, not with some girl who probably researched motors on the internet just so she could flirt with guys she doesn't even know."
"Not motors, engines. Motors are electric. Engines are ..."
"Whatever."
It turned out that Jacob gave the girl his phone number. I exploded as soon as I heard it. "How can you stand to be around him? He's such a creep, a jerk, an ... (expletive deleted)."
"Hey! I didn't give her my number," Brady said. "Why is this such a big deal to you anyway?"
I couldn't believe I had to explain this. "It's such a big deal because Madison is my best friend and your best friend is cheating on her."
"Jacob's not cheating exactly."
"Then what, exactly, would you call it?"
He couldn't say, not exactly anyway. One thing he was clear on though: I shouldn't tell Madison any of it. If I did, Jacob would know Brady had violated some kind of 'Guy Code'.
"What's that?" I asked, but Brady wouldn't tell.
The whole thing made me feel a little sick. "I'm going to go home and take a nap."
"You could sleep here." Brady guided my head onto his shoulder.
I tried to pull away but he tightened his grip. I slid out from under his grasp and stood. "I'd rather go home," I said.
He stared at me. "Home?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"Nothing."
I knew there was more he wanted to say. By the time I reached his front door he couldn't hold it in any longer. "Have fun with Dave," he said.
I was about to tell him 'Maybe I will' but when I spun in his direction, I saw his anger was mostly gone. Instead, he looked sort of sad. And sweet. And very, very cute. And I remembered that I really didn't feel good. I really meant to go home. There was no sense arguing over nothing.
I walked back to him, messed up his hair and gave him a hug. "Let's do something later."
"Definitely," he said. He hugged me back, then kissed my neck. "Call me when you wake up."
I thought about Jacob as I walked toward home. As much as I didn't like the kid, I hoped there was some way he and my best friend could work things out. Madison would be devastated if they couldn't. Besides, if Brady was telling the truth, any flirting that happened at the racetrack had been harmless. Boys and girls do that all the time. It doesn't have to mean anything. Does it?
I hoped Brady and I could work things out too. I didn't understand what was bugging him lately, though I suspected part of it could be fixed by avoiding Dave Brown. That should have been easy enough ... I'd only been practicing for it all my life.
But when I opened the door to the coffee shop, where I'd gone to collect my skateboard, who did I see? That's right. Dave. And Craig, of course.
The fireworks stand wouldn't open until six. The boys were biding their time, drinking coffee and making lists of potential objets d'explode.
I'd meant to grab my board and go, even after I saw them there. Make that, especially after I saw them there. But when they offered their list, I couldn't push myself away. I mean, there was this detailed drawing on it, depicting three figures on the top of a building, a round-ish thing, some fireworks and the word KAPOW!!!!!!
"What's that?" I asked and pointed.
"A watermelon," Dave answered.
Kiersten rolled her eyes, but I couldn't resist. I was laughing while they explained just how they were going to acquire either a bag of:
A: Poo
or
B: Vomit
when I remembered I was supposed to be sick. And I was supposed to be going home. And napping. And calling my perfectly wonderful (but lately strange acting) boyfriend as soon as I woke up.
"Hey guys," I said, "I gotta go."
"Stay," Craig said.
"Yeah, stay." That was Dave. "I already ordered you a chai."
How ya gonna say no to exploding body excretions, fun friends, and vanilla chai?
"Just for a few minutes," I said. I reasoned that the drink was made of tea, and tea is what my mom always gives me when my stomach is upset. Therefore tea must be healthy. I could stay there with Craig and Dave: for medicinal purposes only. Sure.
"Why do you have to leave anyway?" Craig asked.
I told him I felt sick. He raised an eyebrow at me again. Dave yelled to Kiersten to bring a sack. "Looks like that bag'o'puke might be easier to acquire than we thought."
He and Craig high-fived. I hmmphed. "A little sympathy?"
"You don't really look sick," Kiersten said.
Dave scanned me from head to toe while I squirmed on my stool. "I don't know," he said. "She definitely looks sick of something." Then, a heartbeat later, "Brady sure was an ass today."
"Yeah, what is it with him lately?" Craig added.
I started to say it was nothing, that Brady was the same perfect boy he'd always been, but I was pretty sure Craig wouldn't believe me. It looked like Dave might not buy it either. I fished for another tactic.
"It's not him ..." I took a long sip of chai while they waited. "It's Jacob."
"Huh?" the three of them asked.
So, even though I'd promised Madison I wouldn't talk about her love life, and even though I'd told Brady I wouldn't tell on his best friend, I opened my big, fat mouth and let it all fall out. I told them about the girl at the races. I told them about Lily P. at the theatre too, but Craig already knew. He'd read it on my blog.
He had?
Turns out cheddarbob of 'You rock' fame was really Craig. Once we'd got that straightened out, I started to recite another half dozen incidents of bad boyfriend behavior Jacob had engaged in over the last month. The front door bell jingled. I stopped my rant long enough to lean back on my stool and take a peek. And froze. There, holding the door open for old lady Pasternak, was Brady. Crap.
"You haven't seen me," I whispered, and ran for the bathroom.
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