With an Extreme Burning

“Oh, you do? Isn't it a little late for that?”

“I don't mean about your purse. That really was an accident; I wasn't snooping. And you're right, your personal life is your own and you're entitled to your privacy. If you want to tell me about the condoms, fine, but I won't ask you again. Is that fair?”

“… I guess.” But Amy wasn't mollified. When she felt wronged she had a tendency to nurse her anger. Just like her father in that respect, too.

Cecca said, “I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm sorry for that, too. But I had a reason.”

“What reason?”

“Another one of those calls this afternoon. Only this time he said something that upset me. Something ugly.”

“What did he say?”

Cecca told her.

“God, what a dickhead creep,” Amy said. She plunked herself down on the edge of her bed. “But you should have known it was just crap.”

“I can't help worrying. I love you, you know that. The thought of anything happening to you …”

“Nothing's going to happen to me. I mean, he wanted you to worry. That's how those weirdos get off.”

“I know that.”

“So don't let him get to you, okay? If he calls again, which he probably will.”

“If he does and you answer, don't say anything to him.”

“Why not? I'd like to tell him some things.”

“We talked about this before. Talking back will only provoke him. Promise me you'll just hang up.”

Amy scowled. But then she said, “All right. It's no big deal anyway. He'll go away eventually. Chris Ullman's mother had an obscene caller last year and he said all kinds of crazy things to her. And he went away after a few weeks. This one will, too.”

Will he? Cecca thought as she returned to the kitchen. Yes, probably. Except that he's not a random caller. He knows my name, he knows Amy's name, he knows where we live.

What if he's more than just a telephone freak?

What if he's some kind of psycho?

They went to the new Tom Cruise movie. Kimberley wanted to see it, she was a big Tom Cruise fan, and there wasn't anything else playing that excited Amy much. It was all right. Funny in parts; once Amy even laughed out loud. Lots of sex. But every other word was “fuck” or “shit,” like a lot of movies you went to, and it got to be pretty monotonous and silly. People didn't really talk like that, and if they did, who wanted to listen to them? It just wasn't very intelligent. Kids' stuff. She wasn't a kid anymore, even if Mom insisted on treating her like one sometimes. Like tonight. Big scene in the kitchen with Owen there, and then going ballistic about the rubbers. And all because the creep on the phone had upset her and she'd been worried. There wasn't anything to worry about, for God's sake. Besides, she could take care of herself. The divorce had turned her into an adult a long time ago, more than three years ago. The divorce, and then Davey Penner.

After the movie Amy wanted to go to Big Red's for something to eat, but Kimberley didn't. Kim thought she was getting fat. She wasn't, she was positively anorexic, but that was the way she was. So they drove around instead. Cruising (Tom Cruising, Kim said, ha-ha), which was technically illegal in Los Alegres, but the cops didn't hassle you as long as you didn't ride in packs. Amy didn't mind. She liked to drive. In fact, she loved it. The Honda handled like a dream. Not much power, but she wasn't into fast driving like some of her friends were. That was kids' stuff, too. Adults, if they had any brains, didn't drive like maniacs and endanger other people's lives.

They went over to the east side once, to see if anything was going on at Sonny's Pizza Shack (nothing was), but mostly they cruised the full two-mile length of the Main Street. Not much was happening there either. Kimberley thought Brian might be out cruising, too, but he wasn't. Amy knew it wouldn't have mattered much if he had been, even if Kim didn't know it, but there wasn't anything else to do and she didn't mind playing the game. Let Kim go on thinking she and Brian were going to get back together if it made her happy. Everybody knew they weren't. Not with Brian making it with Tara Sims. If you could believe the skinny—and Amy believed it—Tara did things with guys that Kimberley never even dreamed of.

“That Tom Cruise,” Kim said for about the hundredth time. “Man, what a hunk.”

Amy didn't think he was much of a hunk at all. But she didn't say anything.

“I'll bet he's hung like a horse.”

Who cares? Amy thought. “Probably,” she said.

“If I ever saw it, I'd probably die. Right on the spot.”

“Probably.”

“Wouldn't you? I mean, Tom Cruise's dick!”

Silly, Amy thought.

“The only one I've ever seen is Brian's,” Kimberley said. “It was kind of disappointing, you know? Not nearly as big as I thought it would be.”

“Mmm.”

“What about Davey's? You never said what it was like.”

“I don't want to talk about Davey.”

“Come on, Amy, tell me. Was it big?”

Amy sighed. “Huge,” she said.

“Didn't it hurt a lot?”

The radio was playing a rap song. Ice-T or somebody. Amy reached out and fiddled with the dial and got an oldies station.

“Why'd you do that?” Kim asked. “I like rap.”

“I don't.”

“Well, excuse me.”

“Oh God, Kim, don't you get pissy.”

“I'm not pissy. You're the one who's pissy. The way you've been lately, it's been like going around with my mother.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Well? You don't want to talk about anything, you don't want to do anything, you just want to mope around, looking deep.”

“I haven't been moping around.”

“Well, you have been deep. Half buried.”

“I've got things on my mind.”

“Like what?”

“Like things, different things.”

“Davey?”

“Davey and I are history.”

“Then what? Some other guy?”

“No.”

“I'll bet it is. Some other guy, right?”

“No.”

“What's his name?”

“Oh, balls, Kim.”

“Come on, what's his name?”

“Wouldn't you like to know?” And wouldn't you just crap if I told you?

“Steve Payton? I saw you talking to him at Safeway the other day.”

“Steve Payton's a nerd.”

“Then what were you talking to him about?”

“Ice cream, if you have to know. Tom and Jerry's versus Haagen-Dazs. Big deal.”

“Uh-huh.”