Opening Act (9 page)

Shay removed his beer and closed the fridge. “Why do you keep letting people talk you into that kinda behavior?”

She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and said, “Well, you know my nickname—‘Kid Daredevil.' ”

“Yeah. But nobody actually calls you that.”

“They will before I'm finished with 'em.” She took another swig, then made a face and said, “Blaagh. Still there.”

“Listen,” Shay said, prying the lid off his beer bottle, “if five Smirnoffs haven't done the job, a sixth isn't going to help.”

She looked at him and emitted a little defeated grunt. “You're right.” She set the bottle on the counter and said, “I should try a couple shots of Jägermeister.” She left the kitchen, and a moment later Shay heard her cry,
“Hey, who moved the bar cart?”

He took a swallow of beer and left the kitchen, peering down the hallway to make sure the bathroom door was still shut. Then he rushed out the front door, bolted over to the stairwell, and loped up the steps, two at a time, to the roof.

It was a warm night with a brilliant half-moon. A handful of people had spilled out of the party and come up for some privacy and quiet among the vents, chutes, and smokestacks. Seeking out a relatively obscure corner where Zee wouldn't easily find him, he came across Lockwood, seated with his feet dangling over the edge, serenely smoking a doobie.

Shay sat next to him. “I gotta wonder,” he said, “if it's a really good idea to get high when you're perched five stories up.”

“No wondering about it,” said Lockwood. “It is an absolutely terrible idea.”

Shay set his beer down beside him, then lowered himself and swung his own legs over the edge. “Share?” he asked, extending his hand.

Lockwood passed him the joint.

Shay took a hit, passed it back, and said, “So, this girl you invited…”

Lockwood laughed. “I was a conduit, man. A means to an end.”

“I'm guessing I was the end?”

“All signs point to yes.”

He sighed. “Sorry, man.”

Lockwood shrugged. “I should've seen it coming. I
did
see it coming.”

Shay cocked an eyebrow. “Then…why?”

He bounced his head from side to side. “Ahhh, you never know. I coulda been wrong.”

Shay put his arm around Lockwood and gave him a squeeze. “You're twice the man I am. You know that.”

“Everyone knows that.” He took another toke.

“You're a genius. You're funny, and wise, and generous, and…and everything. You're a man's man.”

Lockwood gave him a sidelong, suspicious look. “What do you want?”

“Why do I have to want something? I just love you, man. I'm just giving you some
love
.” He squeezed him again.

“What—do—you—want?”
Lockwood repeated, more deliberately.

Shay gave up the act and let go of him. “Rescue me from her.”

He laughed. “Me and what army?”

“Any army you want. Just hire them. I'll pay for their ammo and transport. Fuck it, I'll buy an aircraft carrier.”

“You can't afford an aircraft carrier.”

“I'll pool my credit cards.”

“You only have two. Both maxed out.”

Shay sighed. “Man, I need a new band. We all know each other too well.” He gestured for the joint, and Lockwood passed it to him.

“Besides,” Lockwood said, “you seem to have rescued yourself.”

Shay shook his head as he sucked in, then after exhaling said, “No, she'll find me. And she'll never let go. She's like a terrier on a pants leg.”

“What about the other one? The one she came in with? I thought you were making some progress there.”

“Gone.” Shay sighed. “Walked out as soon as yours got me cornered.”

“Huh.” Lockwood shook his head. “Chicks, man.”

“Chicks, man,” Shay agreed.

After a longish pause, Lockwood said, “Probably just as well, though.”

“Just as well, though, what?”

“That the other one left.”

“Oh, yeah? And your reason for saying so?”

Lockwood gave him a come-on-now look. “You know perfectly goddamn well.”

Shay grimaced. “Pernita doesn't own me.”

“Fuck if she doesn't.”

“She
doesn't
. Everything between us is totally NSA. We established that right up front.”

“That was just a gambit, man. You
must've
realized that by now. That was just till she got your signature on the dotted line. Now she rules your skinny white ass.”

Shay resisted the urge to argue back. What he really wanted was to drop the subject entirely. The fact was, Lockwood was right, and Shay hated to admit it—even to himself. He hated to admit he could have been so naive, so stupid, that he could be
played
like a goddamn violin.

“We should go back to the party,” he said.

“We should,” Lockwood agreed.

“The fans, and everything.”

“The fans,” Lockwood echoed.

They sat exactly where they were for eleven minutes more, till Zee stumbled up behind them.

“
There
you are,” she said, plunking herself down next to Shay. “I wondered where you'd gone to. You said you weren't going to move.”

“I suddenly felt all flushed,” he said. “I had to get some fresh air.”

“Poor baby,” she said, and she felt his forehead. “Better now?”

“Much,” he said, and he turned to Lockwood and mouthed the words,
Rescue me!

She sniffed the air and said, “You guys getting high?”

Shay shot Lockwood a look that said
absolutely not
.

Lockwood surreptitiously moved the joint out of sight and said, “I was. Downstairs. Came up for air.”

Zee looked around. “You didn't happen to see my roommate up here, did you?”

“Your roommate?” Shay said, suddenly on alert.

“She's not downstairs anymore. I thought, since everyone seems to be coming up here, maybe she did, too.”

“You and Loni live together?”

“Mm-hm.” She looked at Shay. “You know her?”

Shay affected a nonchalant look. “I was talking to her in the kitchen, when you introduced yourself.”

“You were?” She giggled. “I didn't even notice.”

“Didn't notice a lot of things,” Lockwood muttered so that only Shay could hear.

“Where did she go?” Zee asked.

“I'm pretty sure she left.”

She slumped her shoulders. “Honestly, that's
so
like her. To just leave me here. I mean, I told her she could, but that doesn't mean she
had
to.”

“She seemed kind of…uptight,” said Shay.

“Oh, don't even get me started! Her idea of fun? You wouldn't believe it. Your average librarian is a she-wolf by comparison. I don't even know what she'd do if she didn't have
me
. I drag her everywhere. Not that she ever thanks me.”

“You're a good friend,” he said. “In fact, you're a real philanthropist, Zee…Zee…sorry, what's your last name again?”

“Gleason.”

“You're a real philanthropist, Zee Gleason.” He raised his beer bottle to toast her and took a swig.

“Oh, you
are
smooth,” murmured Lockwood, who knew exactly what Shay was up to.

Suddenly Shay clutched his pocket. “Sorry,” he said, “phone just vibrated. Won't be a minute.” He got to his feet, pulling his phone from his pocket as he did so, then strode away from them, speaking into it. “Hello?…Yeah, I heard from him…Did you confirm for Friday…?”

When he was far enough away, he slipped behind a duct and took the phone from his ear, ending the pantomime of having gotten a call. He opened Facebook, and typed
ZEE GLEASON
in the search bar. When Zee's page popped up (God, was there
nothing
that woman wouldn't do in front of a camera? Shay had to roll his eyes.), he clicked on the link to her Friends page, then searched for
LONI
.

Nothing came up.

That was odd. He searched again, thinking maybe she spelled it in some other way—like a dude,
LONNIE
. Or maybe all Welsh or something;
LLONI
. A few other variants were equally unsuccessful. But he was on the hunt now, and he wasn't going to let a bad scent put him off the trail.

As he returned to Zee and Lockwood, he wondered why he was even bothering. Loni really
did
seem a little too uptight—not to mention a little too quick to take offense. Both being things he really hated in women. Yet he seemed ready to overlook them in Loni's case. Likewise her superior attitude and her transparent bullshit about not knowing who he was. She was full of herself in ways Shay usually found repellent.

Yet he was the opposite of repelled. In fact, he couldn't seem to get her out of his head.

Was it because this was the first time in a long time that a woman had walked away from him? Was it as simple as that? Was he merely reacting to a rejection, like some goddamn Neanderthal?
Grunt, I will
make
you love me.

Or was it that he'd grown tired of being chased and flattered and fawned over? After all that sickening sugar, a little vinegar tasted surprisingly…
sweet
.

Zee and Lockwood were exactly as he'd left them. He'd hoped they'd have shimmied together, closed up the space between them, but they'd kept it open for him. In fact, they didn't appear even to be cognizant of each other. Zee was staring dreamily in one direction, Lockwood sternly in the other. With a sigh, Shay sat back down between them, picked up his beer bottle again, and downed a slug.

“
That
was awkward,” Lockwood muttered.

“So, I was saying,” Zee said, chirpily resuming where she'd left off, “Loni's gone and left me, and now I don't know
how
I'm going to get home…or to, y'know,
wherever
it is I'm going next.” She smiled coquettishly. “I guess I'll just have to hope someone comes along to help me out.”

“Really sucks that she left you hanging,” Shay said. “What kind of person does that?”

“I know, right?” she said, inching closer to him.

“I mean, she must be a total bitch.”

“Well, not total. She's just got major issues.”

“Like what? Wait, don't tell me. She's one of those tech-phobes who, like, hates Facebook and shit.”

“Well, she doesn't
hate
it, exactly, but she doesn't use her real name 'cause she doesn't want people from her past finding her and ‘bothering' her.”

“ ‘People from her past'?” he said, shaking his head. “Man, that is lame. I mean, what is she, twenty-two? Who's she talking about? Her ex-nanny or something? Who's got a ‘past' at twenty-two?”

Zee laughed, and grabbed his arm as if to keep from rollicking herself right off the roof. “You're so funny,” she said. She wasn't laughing anymore, but she wasn't letting go of his arm, either.

“So, what, does she use her porn name or something?”

She looked at him, in the moonlight, and it was clear she'd been trying to steer his attention in quite another direction. “Hm?” she asked. “Porn name?”

“You know. Like, you take your first pet's name, and the name of the street you grew up on, and that's your porn-star name. Tell me you never heard of this.”

She giggled. “Really? This is a thing? Oh, my God. My porn-star name is…” She thought for a second. “Bubbles Fairbanks.” She squealed in delight. “What's yours?”

“Tyler Montana,” he said.

She screamed and slid her other arm around his. She was now attached to him like a barnacle. “Oh, my
Gawd
, that's a
total
porn name! I am so
dying
!” She pressed her face against his shoulder and groaned happily into it.

He was growing a little uncomfortable with her invasion of his private space—hell, she was all but crawling under his shirt—so he turned to Lockwood and said, “What's
your
porn name, man?”

Lockwood gave him a sidelong glance, then looked back ahead and said, “Wilbur Forty-Third Street.”

Shay laughed, but Zee didn't. Then there was a spell of quiet that seemed like it might go anywhere.

“Soooo,” Shay said, trying to get back to the point without drawing too much attention to it, “your roommate uses her porn name for Facebook?”

“No,” she said dreamily, as though falling asleep. “The name of some English poet.
So
lame.”