Cash Braddock Read online

  “She came out two weeks after graduation. We dated the entire summer before I went to college.”

  “Oh.”

  “Sorry. You’re lacking on the queer kid gossip.”

  “Damn. I thought that was a good one.” He turned the bottle in his hands. “Jessie Chandler.”

  “Ran into her at Faces.” I thought back and tried to situate it in time. I was really into cuffed pants that summer. “About eight years ago.”

  “Skylar…umm…James?”

  “Jamison. I went to her wedding last year,” I said.

  “Fuck me. You win.” No shit. “What about you? Anything exciting happening?”

  I searched desperately for something to tell him that couldn’t be used as leverage. Andy was off limits. So were my uncle and Nate. “I went on a date tonight.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “She hot?”

  “Totally. Met her at a party. Followed her around until she agreed to leave with me.”

  “That’s my boy. Never give up. So how’d it go? Pretend I care about more than her bra size.”

  I mustered every ounce of the douche bag teen I had been. “Her name is Laurel. She’s got a body that—actually, she doesn’t. Not your type.”

  “Too gay?” he asked. I nodded. “So she’s got a body that would make you blow your wad? But mine’s safe?”

  I laughed because he expected it. “Exactly. But I don’t know. She’s kinda standoffish. We’ll see. You know?”

  “Ahhh, classic Cash.” There was no classic Cash. “Let me guess. She doesn’t know you’re a drug dealer. And she’s got some job that makes you clench when you think about telling her. You’re not going to call her.”

  I realized that I had no idea what Laurel did. I’d avoided the subject for my sake. “It’s not like that. I just don’t know if I’m gonna call her.” I almost believed it.

  “She didn’t put out? Poor kid.” Henry drained his beer. “I’m going to take off. Thanks for the beer.”

  “No problem.”

  “Let me know if the chick puts out.”

  Sure. Henry would be the first person I’d call. “Right, man. I’ll see you later.”

  He left. I heard the door close. I waited until his car started up, then went to turn the lock. I could never quite place what I didn’t like about Henry. He was fun. Charming when he wanted to be. Great for looking at girls with. Total dick, but I never felt threatened by it. It was more like, under the surface, he was a misogynist. I’d never seen overt evidence. It was just that most women weren’t really people to him. Somehow my looking like a boy was enough to escape his misogyny though.

  I rinsed out our bottles and tossed them in the recycling. Then I stashed the pills he had brought. At least he was good for free drugs.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What are you doing tonight?” Andy dropped into the chair next to me.

  “Ice skating.” I didn’t look up from my book.

  “It’s June.”

  “And?” I asked.

  “It’s sunny.”

  “That would explain why I’m wearing sunglasses.”

  “And this is California. Nobody ice skates,” she said.

  “All valid points. You neglected to mention that I don’t know how to ice skate.”

  “You don’t know how to ice skate?”

  “Does this shock you? Do I seem the ice skating type?”

  “You’re not going ice skating, are you?”

  “Thank God you’re pretty.” I set down my book.

  “Why do you bitch about me being sarcastic? It’s a learned behavior.” She had a point.

  “Were you leading somewhere with your questions?”

  “Huh?”

  “Tonight?” I asked.

  “Oh, yeah. I didn’t know if you were like going out with that chick again or anything.” She studied her shoes intently.

  Smooth. “It’s not on the schedule.”

  “Oh, okay. ’Cause it’s been a couple days since you went out. I didn’t know, if like, you had plans.”

  “Why are you trying to manage my social calendar?”

  “Tonight’s open mic. At Fox and Goose. Mom said I can’t go solo because they serve alcohol. So I asked if I could go with Cassie, but since Cassie is fifteen, Mom vetoed that too.”

  “So I’m your third choice?” I asked.

  “Only in the most respectful sort of way. I didn’t want to go with Cassie. She’s like clingy. I think I’m over her.”

  “Be still, my beating heart.”

  “You have a heart?”

  “Don’t you have school?”

  “School’s out. Remember last week when I got home and I was like ‘school’s out’ and you started singing some song and I was confused?”

  I grinned. “Alice Cooper. Good times.”

  Andy stared blankly at me. “Does this mean you’ll come?”

  “If they take requests, you’re required to ask them to play that song.”

  “Okay.”

  “And don’t ask me to buy you beer.” Andy had never asked me to buy her beer.

  “That’ll be tough.”

  “If we accidentally run into your friends and you ditch me, I’ll be pissed.” I put air quotes around accidentally.

  “I told you, I’m over Cassie.”

  “And I have to speak with your mother.”

  “Mom,” Andy shouted. “Cash said she’ll go.”

  “You lack decorum,” I said.

  “Mom, what’s decorum?” Andy shouted.

  “Something you lack,” Robin shouted back.

  “Hey, you guys agree.” Andy nudged me.

  “Shocking.”

  “Leave at eight?”

  “Sure.”

  “Dope. You’re the best.” Andy ran back in the house.

  Great. I always wanted to be the best.

  *

  I was waiting in line at the bar for a beer and trying to keep an eye on Andy at the same time. Thankfully, Andy was staying stationary. The line for beer, sadly, was stationary too. The music was terrible. Not that I was expecting a lot from an open mic, but I could be an optimist. Sometimes.

  By the time I got back to our table, the act had changed. Some girl was on stage failing at an Ani attempt. The only thing going for her was a buzzed head. Delightfully retro.

  “This is an experience,” I said.

  “Shut your face. You don’t know how to have fun.” Andy sipped the soda I’d brought her. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  A group of people migrated to stand in front of our table. Andy strained to see over them. After a minute, most of them moved on. Except for one chick.

  “This sucks,” Andy said.

  “Sorry, kid.”

  “I’m gonna be tall like you one day.”

  She was already close to passing me. “It’s good that you have aspirations.”

  “Big words.” Andy nodded.

  “Excuse me,” I called to the body blocking us. “Hey, you mind?”

  She turned. It was Laurel. In that moment, I regretted not calling her. Mostly because her eyes flashed the sexiest shade of blue I’d ever seen. It was like the ocean at nighttime. When the ocean was pretty. And her hair was falling into those blue eyes. It was all fantastic. Christ, I should have called her.

  “Laurel?”

  “Cash? Hey.”

  Andy looked at me and mouthed “Laurel?” in the most obvious way possible.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I asked in all of my intelligent glory.

  “Suffering through open mic with no seats. You?”

  “Just suffering.” Andy coughed. Subtle. “Why don’t you sit with us?” I grabbed Andy’s backpack and shoved it into her lap, then pulled out the remaining seat at the table for Laurel.

  “No, I don’t want to intrude.” But she stepped forward like she wanted to.

  “I’m Andy Ward.” Andy reached across the table to
shake Laurel’s hand.

  “Laurel. You must be the neighbor.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I, of course, have no idea who you are. Nope. Not a clue,” Andy said.

  “So you’re not the one who threatened to text if Cash refused to?” Laurel sat down.

  Andy turned an impressive shade of pink, but she managed to keep rolling. “Tragically, Cash is a pansy. But I’m not, so I figured I could help her out.”

  “That’s kind of you.”

  “Yep. That’s me. Benevolent.”

  “Big word,” I said.

  “I downloaded a dictionary.”

  “I’m proud.”

  “So I guess I’ve gotta pee. Or something. I’ll be back.” Andy stood.

  “If I find you making out with Cassie, there will be hell to pay,” I said.

  “Got it. If I make out with any girls in line for the bathroom, I’ll make sure none of them are named Cassie.” Andy saluted.

  “Go get ’em, tiger.”

  “She’s a pistol,” Laurel said as soon as Andy was out of earshot.

  “Noticed that, did you?”

  “I’m very observant.”

  “You know, you’re not required to sit here. I mean, the teenage charmer can get a bit obnoxious.”

  “Totally. And if you guys don’t want me cramping your style, just let me know.”

  “Done.”

  “Cool.”

  Suddenly, I missed Andy. She was good at being a buffer.

  Laurel leaned back in her seat and studied the stage. I looked to see if it had gotten interesting. Nope. Same old Fox and Goose. They were going for a pub thing. And they’d been around since the last time pubs were cool, so there was a certain nostalgia to the place. The open mic, however, was still subpar.

  Laurel was not subpar. Her V-neck was just low enough to show me a slice of tanned skin. It was distracting. Actually, all of her skin was distracting. The hint of muscle in her arms, the flash of ankle below her pant cuffs, the smooth plane of her neck. I had a disturbing desire to trace my fingertips from her ear down to the loose neck of her shirt. I was pretty sure that would be a bad idea. Kind of creepy. She pushed her hair back from her face in that way she did, and I almost lost it.

  Thankfully, Andy decided to come back. Or maybe that was a bad thing. I wasn’t sure. I feigned interest in the stage. Laurel was seemingly fascinated by the terrible musicians. Andy was fascinated by her phone. At that moment, my phone started vibrating with a text. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Andy. It was Andy texting me from one seat over.

  Shud I get gone?

  I gave her a withering look. She shrugged.

  “No,” I said.

  “Your call.” Andy turned to the stage.

  I leaned back in my seat. Just enough so that Laurel wouldn’t see me staring at her. Why wasn’t I going to call her? Oh, yeah. She was distant and detached. And if she stopped being distant, I was afraid to tell her what I did. Why was that a problem? I wasn’t looking for a marriage and two point five of my own. Andy was enough of a handful and we only shared a building, not an address. Who could it hurt if I got Laurel naked and never ended up cohabiting? No one. That’s who it would hurt. I didn’t need emotionally available. We didn’t need honesty.

  I leaned closer to that tantalizing neck. She smelled really good. Like cedar and the musky bite of hair product.

  “You want another beer?” I asked.

  She glanced at the glass in her hand. It was almost empty. “Sure. Arrogant Bastard.” The beer, not me.

  “Done. Andy? You want anything else?”

  “Nope. Thanks.”

  I scooted back and maneuvered out from between their chairs. The line at the bar had dwindled. I caught the bartender’s attention.

  “Two Arrogant Bastards, please.”

  He glanced at me. “ID.”

  I handed it over. He checked it, looked at my face again, looked back at the ID. It was the name. And the haircut. I’d had stoner hair to my ears in high school, and my lovely ID still had the same photo. Now, with the sides nearly shaved and the top combed with pomade, it was surprisingly different from the kid I’d been. Every time I renewed my license, I meant to get a new photo, but then I remembered I’d have to go to the DMV, and that was unappealing. So the shot of me at seventeen stuck.

  The bartender set two glasses on the bar and took my money. I went back to our table and squeezed back into my seat, careful not to brush Laurel in the process. Had her seat moved closer?

  Andy was still on her phone. She was typing, but watching the stage. From the look of the screen, she was on Snapchat. I didn’t get it.

  Laurel took the glass I set in front of her and nodded her thanks.

  It was kinda nice sitting there. Okay, it was filled with tension. From me mostly. Laurel was cool as fuck about the whole sitting a foot away thing. Andy was seemingly unaware. So that just left me. Sitting, vibrating, pretending that I was interested in a kid playing Simon and Garfunkel on the ukulele. Tragically, his set ended and the next band started to set up.

  Next to me, Andy went electric, then slumped lower than humanly possible on a bar stool.

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s her,” Andy whispered.

  “Who?”

  “Bailey.” Andy groaned and sunk lower.

  “Bailey? The girl from homecoming.”

  “The girl from homecoming.” More groaning.

  Laurel leaned over. “What’s up?”

  “Andy’s not feeling well.”

  Laurel looked confused. “That’s too bad. What happened?”

  “Her ex-girlfriend is in the band.”

  Andy tried to hide behind me.

  “With the new boyfriend,” Andy whispered. “Don’t forget the new boyfriend.”

  “With the ex-girlfriend’s new boyfriend,” I told Laurel.

  “Got it.” Laurel glanced around. “So we’re gonna need to get her out of here, right?”

  Andy stopped groaning.

  “I think that would be good,” I said.

  “Okay, but she doesn’t want them to see her. That door is too close to the stage. Won’t work.” Laurel turned around and looked behind us. “We can head for the door back that way, but we have about fifteen feet of open space. You think we can shield her? I’m thinking if we stay shoulder to shoulder, keep the pace even, this will be totally doable.”

  For some reason, I found her focus very sexy. “I’m in. How do we get up?”

  “You stand first, let Andy get behind you. Start walking, then I’ll close in.”

  “You got that?” I asked Andy.

  “Got it.”

  I stood and tried to be taller and wider than I was. Andy practically fell out of her chair. Laurel leaned across the table for Andy’s bag, which blocked us long enough for me to turn around. I nudged Andy forward. We started walking. Laurel pressed in against my right side. When Andy veered too far to the side, Laurel took her elbow and directed her between us. There was a tricky moment when I tried to open the door, but then we were outside free and clear.

  “Oh, my God. I think I almost died.” Andy collapsed against the railing ringing the sidewalk.

  “Here’s your bag.” Laurel handed over the backpack.

  “Thanks for getting me out of there. That was awesome. I could have died, you know? Holy shit.” Andy clutched the backpack to her chest and did some deep breathing.

  “That was very impressive,” I said.

  “Well, yes. It was. I mean, at any time we could have been seen. The world might have ended. But we kept it together.” Laurel managed utter sincerity when she said it. She put her hand on Andy’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  “I think I’ll pull through. It was touch-and-go there for a minute, but…” Another deep breath. “Yeah, I think I might make it through the night.”

  “At the very least.”

  “You’ll have to check my vitals in the morning,” Andy said.

  “Probably two
or three times throughout the night. Four-hour intervals should do it,” Laurel said.

  Andy started to laugh. “If you think that’s often enough.”

  “Maybe we should consult a medical professional.”

  “It’s okay. My mom’s a nurse.”

  Laurel nodded. “Good. That’s good. But I think you need proper medication.”

  “There’s medication for this?”

  “Ice cream. It’s standard. Five to ten ounces. With hot fudge.”

  Andy glanced at me. I smiled.

  “What about whipped cream? Is whipped cream standard?” Andy asked.

  “I didn’t think I needed to mention it. I just assumed you knew,” Laurel said.

  “I’m young. I’m still learning.”

  “That’s allowed.” Laurel started walking. Andy and I hustled to keep up. “So this girl?”

  “Asshole,” Andy said.

  “I gathered.”

  “She broke up with me at homecoming.”

  “Interesting. I didn’t take you for a sports fan.”

  Andy scoffed. “No. Like at homecoming. The dance. I’m there in my fancy shirt and tie. I’m wearing suspenders. I’ve even got a fedora. And we’re dancing. It’s nice. I leave the floor for two minutes and when I get back, there’s Bailey making out with Bailey.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “They’re both named Bailey. The ex-girlfriend and the new boyfriend,” I said. “Remember Party of Five?”

  “No way. What parent would do that to their child?” Laurel asked.

  “What’s Party of Five?”

  I patted Andy’s head. “Shhhh, honey.”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “That dictionary app is doing wonderful things for you.”

  *

  “You were so right.” Andy dropped her plastic spoon into the melted remains of her sundae.

  “We are older and wiser,” I said.

  “You’re definitely older.” Andy grinned.

  “Hey,” Laurel said.

  “You can be wiser. Cash is just old.”

  “And that wraps up our evening,” I said.

  “Awww, Cash. Come on. I was kidding.”

  “Yeah, I know. But it’s late and I promised your mom.”

  “Square,” Andy said. I shrugged. “It’s summer. My curfew isn’t until eleven.”