Tonya Hurley_Ghostgirl_03 (13 page)

The conversation turned from gowns to scowls as Petula pulled into the lot. As she exited the vehicle, a bag of giveaways rolled out with her, falling onto the pavement below and prompting chuckles from the stragglers doing their best to be late for class. She picked them up just as she would a tampon that fell out of her purse: quickly.
Watching Petula scurry to scoop up the clothing, the Wendys felt a twinge of guilt until Darcy arrived to put it in perspective for them.
“How selfish,” Darcy said snidely, appearing from behind The Wendys and draping her long, lean arms around their necks. “Airing her dirty laundry in public like that.”
“That’s not her laundry,” Wendy Thomas corrected, staring blankly at the bag.
“Yeah,” Wendy Anderson concurred, recalling Petula’s germophobic repulsion toward public washers and dryers. “She limits her wardrobe to hand-washables and dry-clean-only.”
Darcy was impressed with both how observant and how stupid they were.
“She has no idea how this reflects on both of you,” Darcy continued to needle, shaking her head dejectedly to emphasize her point. The Wendys, clinging to Darcy like two parasites in need of a new host, nodded their brunette updos in agreement.
Scarlet raced into the parking lot as usual and spied the last empty spot a few spaces from Petula. As she pulled in, she could see Petula pick up the last few items that had fallen from her car, toss them in her backseat, and trudge off, head down, toward the front doors. In all her life, Scarlet couldn’t recall ever having seen Petula hang her head.
Could this get any worse? Scarlet wondered as she saw the Wendys and Darcy leading the laughter. She was then slapped with an unequivocal “yes” as Petula was approached by a freshman wearing a handmade tee that had BANDTARD painted across the chest. He was obviously in the midst of being initiated and she was obviously being pranked.
Scarlet actually felt sorry for Petula as she witnessed her comeuppance. She’d gone from popular to punchline just like that. The guy’s voice was so inappropriately loud it was impossible not to hear him, even from this distance.
“Hey, I heard you need a date for prom,” the freshman said, blocking her path, saliva unwittingly spraying from his mouth and onto her outfit as he stuttered out the invite.
“Ewww, cobra mouth,” Darcy shouted.
Petula looked over and saw the Wendys and Darcy hunched over the hood of their car, laughing like rabid, über-fashionable hyenas. The bandtard came over to them with his hand out, and Darcy peeled off a few singles and thanked him.
“That was cheap,” Darcy chuckled to The Wendys.
“You should know,” Scarlet swiped as she approached, getting in all their faces.
“What comes around goes around,” Wendy Anderson said.
“Just like an STD,” Scarlet punched back. “Ain’t that right, Wendy?”
Wendy Anderson clammed up immediately, and Wendy Thomas wasn’t about to jump in.
“I’d really love to get into a battle of wits with you guys, but I never attack anyone un-armed,” Scarlet said, silencing The Wendys’ hope for retaliation.
“Hey, maybe you can go with that bandtard if Petula passes,” Darcy said, offering her a few bucks. “I hear you might need a date.”
The song contest was picking up steam, and the radio station phone lines started lighting up like crazy.
“Look at that,” Damen said, studying his computer screen, as Scarlet’s song topped the voter list. “I think we have a hit on our hands.”
He said “we” instead of “she” because he really considered it their song. She’d written the lyrics for him, but he’d laid down a smoking-hot guitar track on it.
Wait until I tell Scarlet! he thought, and then remembered that she wasn’t too happy he’d submitted the song in the first place.
Charlotte watched helplessly as his mood changed. There was a sadness in his eyes that she’d never seen before. The optimism, confidence, and determination that everyone admired about him were giving way to self-doubt and uncertainty.
“Don’t worry,” Charlotte said as she moved around behind his chair and placed her hands gently on his shoulders. “Scarlet will see that you’re doing all this for her,” she whispered in his ear.
His neck and shoulders relaxed as he eased back into the chair. Charlotte was here to help him, and she felt that she had begun to do her part, however small, to comfort him.
Seeing the phones lighting up in support of Scarlet made him feel especially close to her, so he pulled out his letter, determined to finish it up.
Charlotte read over his shoulder as he collected his thoughts and copied them down. Finally satisfied that he’d said all he meant to say, Damen closed the letter, as he always did, with a “Y.T.N.F.” and pulled back to read the valediction aloud before he signed it.
“Yours… Till… Niagara… Falls, Damen.”
Charlotte swooned. She would have died to hear something like that from Eric, or anybody for that matter. It was corny, sure, but Charlotte was a sucker for that kind of thing. The thought of roaring white water rolling endlessly over rocky cliffs to the riverbed below conjured up images of infinite, undying, ever-renewing love.
Just then the program director, Jerry Stylus, burst in the room.
“Dylan!” the PD barked. “Did you submit this track?”
“Yep,” Damen answered proudly, gesturing to the call-in board. “It’s absolutely killing!”
“Maybe so,” Stylus acknowledged, “but unfortunately, it’s my turn to do some killing. The song is disqualified.”
Charlotte gulped so loudly she feared they might hear her.
“No way!” Damen yelled, jumping to his feet.
Charlotte had never seen him in such a state. It was as if Scarlet was standing right there beside him and had been insulted personally.
Mr. Stylus quickly realized he shouldn’t have been so cavalier. He waved the cue sheet for the song up and over the console, close enough for him to read to Damen, but not so close that he might get punched out.
“I was just reviewing the credits for all the submissions, and I see you did the music on the track.”
“Yeah, so?” Damen was pacing behind his chair and trying desperately to calm himself. “It’s my girlfriend’s song.”
“It’s against the rules,” Stylus informed him. “No station employee can participate in any on-air contest.”
“So, you mean if I hadn’t taken this job…” Damen’s voice trailed off.
Charlotte knew what he really meant to say. If he hadn’t come home, if he hadn’t changed everything to be near her, none of this would have happened. It was a series of unintended consequences that he’d set in motion. He only meant to be with her and to show his love and support by recording her song and submitting it. And now it had all gone wrong.
“It’s standard conflict-of-interest stuff,” Jerry concluded as he folded up the cue sheet and handed it tentatively to Damen. “Sorry, kid.”
“Sorry?” Damen said sarcastically, dropping down in his seat and hanging his head. “You’re not the only one.”
This was going to be a problem. Scarlet never wanted to be entered to begin with, but now that she was, Damen knew she was excited about it, even though she’d never admit it to him. She was going to be shattered by the disqualification, and so would their relationship.
“If you don’t mind,” Stylus requested, adding insult to injury, “just delete the track from the playlist before the end of your shift.”
Damen nodded silently.
“Niagara…,” Charlotte mouthed somberly, “falls.”
Chapter 16 Close to the Edge
The Edge… there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.
—Hunter S. Thompson
Love is a drug.
Falling in love is transformational but not always in the ways that we hope. You go from being a whole person to being half a relationship, sometimes losing a large part of yourself in the process. Unfortunately, it is almost always the secure, self-assured part of you that turns up missing. But the real trouble begins when you need another person to help you find it.
Hey,” Charlotte said as she approached Eric, who was hanging out on the front steps of IdentiTea, fiddling with his guitar. He looked a little like a puppy waiting for its master, a far cry from the street-tough punk she knew and, although she hadn’t said it yet, loved.
“Hey,” Eric replied, looking up at her with some excitement, but then immediately putting his head back down to continue playing.
“I’m here,” Charlotte responded.
“So I see,” Eric said.
It was oddly strained and awkward between them, leaving Charlotte more suspicious than ever about his feelings for Scarlet.
“So, what have you been up to?” Charlotte asked.
“Just hanging out,” he said. “You?”
“Nothing much, just trying to help smooth things over,” she said, watching his face for any reaction. “Damen loves her so much. You’re never going to believe how he signs his letters to her.”
“She isn’t happy,” Eric snapped.
“Why do you care so much if she’s happy?” Charlotte asked pointedly.
What she wanted to say was, why don’t you care about my being happy, but she fought the urge.
“Because that’s why I’m here,” Eric said defensively.
“Are you sure about that?” Charlotte asked.
“What are you trying to get at, Charlotte?”
“I think you’d better check your motives,” she said, her jealousy no longer remotely veiled.
“I think you’d better check yourself,” Eric said as Damen passed them and went into the café. “Frankly, I don’t really care what he writes to her in letters.”
“Oh, I forgot,” Charlotte snapped, “it’s not cool to express your feelings like that, is it?”
Eric put his guitar down and looked Charlotte in the eyes.
“Why are you always so quick to point out how inadequate I am?”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” Charlotte said, extending her neck a bit to see what was happening inside.
“What way did you mean it, then?” Eric asked, annoyed that she was suddenly distracted by Damen’s arrival.
“We’re here to do a job, for them, not for us,” Charlotte said, refocusing on Eric.
“That’s my point, exactly,” he said. “I am thinking about her, but it seems you might be thinking of yourself first.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“Are you trying to say that I’m pushing Damen to get back with Scarlet because I’m jealous of her being with you?”
“You’re the one who said it.”
“Can you get over yourself for just a second?” Charlotte asked as she watched him strum away.
She put her hand on the neck of the guitar and held the strings so he couldn’t play.
“Look at me!” Charlotte ordered, becoming increasingly upset.
Their first-ever fight was officially on before they’d even had their first kiss.
“You’re going to make a scene.”
“Are you hushing me?”
“No, just cool it a little.”
Charlotte began to tremble.
“Make a scene?” she said. “No one could possibly see us except Scarlet.”
Charlotte knew from the look on his face that that’s exactly what he was worried about. His follow-up was even more telling.
“Did it ever occur to you,” Eric suggested, “that we might be here to keep them apart?”
Damen arrived at IdentiTea looking for Scarlet but found The Wendys and Darcy instead.
“Hey, Damen, what’s up?” Wendy Anderson greeted him cordially.
“Here to see your girlfriend?” Wendy Thomas added before Damen could answer. “You just missed her.”
Damen wasn’t surprised. He and Scarlet had been missing each other in every way for a while. The Wendys sensed Damen’s urgency and physically blocked him from getting through to guarantee a little face time.
“She is still your girlfriend, isn’t she?” Wendy Thomas gibed.
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Damen asked snidely, not wanting to throw even the tiniest piece of red meat to Hawthorne’s voracious gossips.
“Oh, we just heard some stuff,” Wendy Anderson said.
“From who?” Damen asked. “Scarlet?”
“Oh, no, no,” Darcy interjected. “Not from her.”
“Who are you?” Damen asked. “And what the hell are you doing in my business?”
“This is Darcy,” Wendy Thomas said. “She’s new.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Darcy cooed, snuggling up to Damen as if they were the only two in the room.
As this was unfolding, Eric walked over to Scarlet.
“Hey, Scarlet, I’m gonna catch you later,” he said.
“So soon?” Scarlet asked.
“I love this place, but it gets boring here sometimes.”
“You won’t be bored. You’ve got company,” she said, grabbing her bag.
As they walked away, Charlotte saw Eric pointing Scarlet in Damen’s and Darcy’s direction. It was as if he wanted Damen to get caught talking to another girl. Like he was working against her. Or more like, against Damen.
Or maybe he was just working for Scarlet.
Damen wasn’t quite sure how to approach Scarlet about the disqualification. Long story short, she was going to be mad. If he was too morose, she might assume he was feeling guilty and looking for sympathy from her when she was the one who actually needed the support. Maybe, he thought, the best way to deal with it was offhandedly. Scarlet might even be relieved to be out of the running for a competition she’d never intended to enter.
He braced himself as he walked up to her front door, hoping he’d picked the right approach.
“Hey,” Damen said, “I’ve got some great news.”
“What’s that,” Scarlet mumbled, barely acknowledging him. He followed her up to her room.
“Your song,” Damen began.
“What now?” Scarlet cut him off. “Did you get an offer from a record label?”
“Not exactly.” Damen paused, swallowing hard. “It was disqualified.”
Scarlet looked up at him from her bed and remained silent for a few seconds, not quite sure if she’d heard him right.
“What?” she screamed.
From her tone, he guessed relief was not exactly the emotion she was feeling.
“Employees of the station can’t enter contests,” Damen explained calmly as she stared him down scornfully. “I’m sorry.”
“So it’s all your fault?” Scarlet exploded, his apology clearly not enough for her.
This was the Scarlet he’d known when he was dating Petula and hadn’t seen since then. Tough, outspoken, brutal. Any worries she had about losing her true self were definitely misplaced, he thought.
“That’s not fair,” Damen countered, trying hard not to lose his temper. “I had no idea.”
“Not fair to whom?” She went on, “I didn’t ask to be entered but I’m the big loser anyway.”
“We lost,” Damen attempted to remind her.
“I lost,” Scarlet barked spitefully. “It was my name on the song, not yours.”
“Right,” Damen shot back reflexively. “It wasn’t my name, just my guitar.”
Damen instantly realized that he might have picked at a scab that was a little too fresh. Scarlet knew she was no guitar god; that was part of the reason she hadn’t submitted the song herself. She didn’t have enough confidence in her ability, Eric’s compliments notwithstanding.