A few nod and some just stare like they’ve met their favorite movie star when they weren’t prepared.
One brave one asks, “Can I take a picture?”
“You know what? No.”
Every single mouth falls open.
“You want me to explain? You think I’m a jerk? I’m a cop. I have to do my job out there. I can’t be famous in whatever capacity or to whatever level you think I am. What if I want to make Detective one day? I’d be a target.”
“Do you want to be a detective?”
“I want the option.” Strolling away, my muscles are tense now. I hate saying no. Part of me wanted to suggest we all pose together. That’s more my style.
But I just got Chief off my back.
Can’t imagine her seeing that photo.
Me grinning with a dozen girls in skin-tight dresses and their breasts hiked for consumption. That’s not what I need right now.
What I need is…
“Hi,” Diana answers, “I didn’t expect you to call tonight.”
CHAPTER 26
ON THURSDAY
DIANA
“Y es, I’m going out with Wyatt tonight,” I sigh, walking around Lita to get to our bathroom. “You think I wore a red dress to watch movies with you?”
“You are asking for trouble, Diana!”
I grab the doorframe and use it to flip me around. “Maybe I am! But ya know what? Life is short. That’s what everyone says, isn’t it? I want to go, so I’m going. Pretty simple answer to the most distracting question I’ve ever had when it comes to a basic first freakin’ date!”
“Nothing is basic with a Cocker,” she warns.
“Arrggh!!!”
At my half-scream half-growl, Lita’s eyes go wide.
But I manage not to slam the door in her face. I do have some self-control. Barely.
I hole up in the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it for good measure.
She knocks, which I cannot believe, saying through the wood, “I’m trying to save you what I went through.”
Dabbing eye shadow onto the pad of my ring finger I call back, “What you went through must have been pretty exciting for you to still be holding onto it like this.”
Silence, then, “I mean the bad part! The not-lasting part!”
Blending into the valley of my eyelid I tell my stubborn roommate, “They can’t all last. The ride is still worth getting on.”
“You’re not going to sleep with him tonight!?”
That’s not the ride I meant.
I was talking about excitement.
Fun.
Even fear.
All of it.
Focusing on making the eyeshadow even on both of my peepers, I apply and blend while trying to stay steady, despite impatience. At her. Not at the taupe with a hint of mauve. Mauve Taupe. Is that what they call this? No, of course not. That’s too obvious. “I might sleep with him! I just might!”
Really?
I might?
Yes.
Even though I’m just saying that because I’m tired of her warnings, I might sleep with him tonight. It’s a definite possibility.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I opened that door and saw her literally pulling out her hair. She’s eerily quiet. Not what I’d expect after what I just shouted.
Grabbing powder blush I stare at it and opt for liquid. Just in case we’re making out and he grabs my face, liquid will last longer. “Lita? You still there?”
Nothing.
Through the mirror I stare at the door, waiting for it to combust with her standing among shards and smoke, snakes for hair, death-white eyes, flames shooting from her fingernails.
You shall not date a Cocker!
I shall not let you!
Heathen!
Feels like the majority ruling.
Don’t date Wyatt.
But he’s called every day since asking me out for tonight. Even from some club party thing where I could barely hear him over the dance music, and not the kind we play at Silver Linings.
Sliding my lipstick on, I remember that it was a struggle but still we talked for fifteen minutes, and I made him laugh. A few times. He got me laughing more than that, but I didn’t let him hear me every time he did. The guy has a big head. It’s more fun for both of us to make him work for it.
I trace my lips’s edges with my finger for precision, smack them together, and lean back to survey the impact of them matching my fire engine red dress.
Not bad.
Oh. Damn.
Why do I always forget mascara?
Snatching up the wand from my case, I glance to the door again and frown. “Lita?”
Still zip.
Huh.
This will only take a second. Few globs cleaned off with a clean wand I keep for glob-removal, and I step back to check myself out. I look good in red. Most women do. And I read a study that said we get asked out more when wearing this color. Good to know.
If it’s that appealing, why not hedge my bets and wear it on date one, since it’s not a blind date. If it were, I’d wear a turtleneck.
Warily I open the door, thoroughly anticipating an ambush.
But there she is on the couch, bent over, small, with her arms covering her head, shoulders shaking.
“Lita?” I walk closer, leaning left to see her face. “You okay?”
She sniffles and looks up, eyes bloodshot, nose red, voice quiet. “I really wanted him.”
Empathy melts me to sit with her, and touch her drooped shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be selfish.”
“You’re not!” she squeaks. I can picture her at age five. She’s little-girl-Lita now, and not the grown marketing guru who drives a Lexus. “I’m being selfish. I’m jealous, Diana! I’m sorry, but I’m jealous.” Fresh tears slide down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Smoothing her hair I whisper, “Hey, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me. That means a lot to me. You trust me with it.”
“We’re friends,” she sniffs, wiping her nose with the back of her forearm, still a little kid. “You’re not just my roommate.”
“I feel the same way. If it makes you feel any better, what happened to you might happen to me.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better!!” she laughs through the tears, “I don’t want you hurting. I just wanted Nicholas, you know?
