Devoured (4 page)

She hangs up and groans. “‘I guess I’ll just have to call your father and have him tell payroll to cancel this week’s check since you’re too busy doing nothing to earn it,’” she says, doing a dead-on imitation of her stepmother. “I could kill my father for marrying that witch and making my life a living hell! The summer I was ten she made me scrub toilets in the park so I could learn to ‘appreciate’ all the employees’ hard work! Do you know many toilets we have?”

“Uh, a lot?”

“
Sixty-five
and I’ve cleaned each and every one of them.” She hands me her phone. “Put your number in. I’ll give you a call tonight and you can tell me what Nicki’s singing, okay?”

“Okay,” I say, punching it in, “but sometimes she doesn’t pick a song until the last minute.”

“Maybe you guys can come over sometime. I go to White Cliff Academy and most of my friends—besides Luke—summer elsewhere, so I’m stuck here in la-la land with nothing to do but obey Patty’s every command.”

“Sure, that’d be great,” I say, thinking Luke’s family must be raking in the dough reading tarot cards if they can afford to send him to White Cliff.

Ari’s phone starts playing “When You Wish Upon a Star” again. “Oh my freaking God,” she mutters as she takes it from me. She pushes a button and yells, “I’m coming already!” She rolls her eyes as she clicks the phone off and shoves it back into its holster. “I’ll call you.”

“Great.”

She turns the corner, and I take a hit of my inhaler. I count to ten and exhale as I open the door to the parking lot. Running toward Nicki’s car I wonder how long it’ll take me to bike from my house to Luke’s so we can finish our conversation.

THREE

Slamming the car door shut, I’m relieved to see Nicki’s taken the keys out of the ignition and left them on the dashboard—her way of letting me know she’ll wait for me to say when it’s time to leave.

“Well?” Nicki says as she turns her off iPod. “Are you gainfully employed?”

I hold up my information packet. “Yup, and I met a friend of yours.”

Nicki raises one eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Arianna Roy.”

“Ari Roy works
here
?” She shakes her head. “I never in a million years would’ve thought she’d be slumming it in the Land of Misogyny.”

“Oh, please!”

“Sorry,” she continues. “Land of Enchantment isn’t just about stereotypically helpless women in need of rescue— there’s Hansel and Gretel’s Haunted Forest, which is more of a celebration of child abuse and cannibalism, and the petting zoo in Mother Goose’s Family Fun Farm, which is all E. coli, all the time!”

I have to laugh. Nicki has never gotten over falling into a huge pile of crap at the Fun Farm during her first and last visit to the park when she was four. “Actually, according to Ari’s father—
the owner of the park
—they take great pride in the sanitary conditions at the farm, which I sincerely hope I’m never assigned to work at. I don’t care how fast the poop is scooped, when it’s ninety-five degrees out, that goat and pig crap is gonna smell worse than the rotting pile of gym clothes and half-eaten sandwiches lying at the bottom of Cooper Summerfield’s locker!”

Nicki waves her hand in front of her nose. “Oh, God, I’m having an olfactory flashback to last Friday. Figures our lockers get the afternoon sun—all that sweat and stink just marinates in the heat. Who knows what exciting odor du jour Cooper will subject us to senior year?” She shakes her fist in the air. “Damn you alphabetical order.”

Blue sky shows through some of the clouds shredding in the wind, and I hand Nicki her keys. “Maybe we could sneak one of those air sanitizers into his locker,” I say as I pull the seat belt across my chest.

Nicki starts the ignition and backs up. “I still can’t believe Ari kept quiet about the fact that she’s the heir to the Land of Enchantment for the two years we’ve been in the chorus. Not that we talk too often—Ari’s a little too hot and cold for me, so I try to avoid her.”

I nod. “Yeah, I experienced some of Ari’s many moods today, but you know, she’s had a rough life.”

“Rough life? Her dad owns a freaking amusement park—which explains why she goes to White Cliff and drives a Mercedes!”

“Uh, if money equaled happy, the rehabs in Hollywood would be out of business. And anyway, would
you
be bragging about being the heir apparent to the Land of Enchantment?”

“No!”

“See? And she’s got a father who, in my opinion, has an extremely unhealthy obsession with fairy tales. Add a wacko stepmother to the mix and I think a
rough life
applies.”

Nicki tilts her head from side to side as if considering whether she thinks Ari has racked up enough teen angst points to agree with me. “I guess. And it couldn’t have been easy after Kayla checked out.”

“Huh?”

“Kayla was in the chorus—decent alto—she was Ari’s BFF until she went missing last year.”

“Oh my God,” I say slowly. “I think I met Kayla’s brother at the park today.”

“Hot guy—curly black hair, fabulous biceps?”

I nod. “That’s Luke.”

“He used to pick them up after practice sometimes,” she says as a smile breaks out on her face. “He’s got the dark, brooding thing down pat, that’s for damn sure.”

“Yes, he does,” I say with a little too much enthusiasm.

Nicki gives me a quick look, and my cheeks flush. I turn away from her to watch the scenery out the window.

“Is someone forgetting she has a boyfriend?”

“Since when does having a boyfriend mean you can’t appreciate a good-looking guy?”

“It doesn’t, but the way Ari was always hanging on him, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s had her name forcibly tattooed on his ass. If you want to keep your
fabulous
new job, I’d be careful about admiring him so openly.”

A shiver runs through me as Remy’s “Be careful, Meggy” echoes in my head. “Um,” I choke out, “don’t worry about it. Ari’s pretty much guaranteed that Ryan and I will be working side by side with no Luke in sight.”

I decide not to tell Nicki I’m planning to visit Luke the first chance I get. She’s 100 percent grounded in a reality that isn’t haunted by ghosts. There’s no way she’d believe I just want to see Luke to talk about my dead sister and the Stephen King–like vision she showed me.

I look back out the window and roll my eyes. Not only does Nicki not believe in ghosts but in second grade, after I told her about Remy coming back, she went home and told her mom, who told
my
mom. That got me four months of drawing pictures of my family with my stupid therapist until she was convinced I’d faced the truth about what happened to Remy and Dad.

Like their empty places at the kitchen table didn’t scream the truth every day.

At least Nicki was apologetic. Mom just increased my visits to Dr. Macardo and checked out of my life a little bit more. Talk about needing therapy.

“So what was Kayla like?” I ask, hoping to change the subject.

“She was nice, kind of quiet.” Nicki shrugs. “She let Ari do most of the talking. They did have a couple of catfights, which I attributed to Ari being genetically predisposed to bitchiness. The weird thing was that shortly after Kayla went missing, Ari showed up at practice with her hair bleached just like Kayla’s.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, until then Ari’s hair was closer to your color. At least she’s got the money to maintain it. You know how much it drives me crazy when people let their roots get out of control. I did overhear a couple of the older chorus members saying it was probably Ari’s way of keeping Kayla’s memory alive, but I never bought that. I just think something about her is off.”

“Well, you probably won’t be too psyched to hear she wants to hang out with us this summer. She’s also planning on calling me tonight to find out what you’re singing for the audition.”

“Oh, God. Don’t get involved with her, Meg, our lives have enough drama.”

“It might be fun to see how the Mercedes crowd lives, and it’s not like I’ll be able to avoid her at the park.”

“Whatever, just leave me out of the equation, okay?”

We turn the corner onto my street and I see Mom’s car in the driveway. “Do you want to come in and see how the new routine went?”

Nicki shakes her head as she parks in front of my house. “I should practice my song. Tell your new BFF I’m singing ‘Moments in the Woods.’”

“Ari was surprised to hear you were actually practicing. She said you’re a shoo-in.”

“Well, that was surprisingly nice of her to say, but with the new director you never know how it’ll go—I don’t want to get cocky.”

“Hey, I’m bringing Ryan to visit my dad this afternoon.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“I know we haven’t been going out that long, but Ryan asked about him—something Jason
never
did the entire six months we were together. Anyway, it’s Fergus’s therapy dog visit today at the nursing home, so I asked Ryan if he wanted to go. I made it sound like it was more about entertaining the residents—something he can get service hours for—and then I casually mentioned he could meet my dad too.” I smile. “He said he’d love to meet him.”

“That’s cool,” Nicki says. “And God knows those little old ladies will
love
having Ryan there.”

“That reminds me. Mr. Archulata keeps asking when you’re coming back.”

Nicki snorts. “The guy who felt me up? He’s the reason I’m staying away!”

I laugh. “Well, maybe he was looking for something a little more exciting than dragging his oxygen tank around.”

She shakes her head. “I’ll come with you next month, but this time
you
can sit with him and listen to his endless war stories.”

I open the car door. “It’s a deal! Good luck tomorrow, and thanks for the ride.”

Nicki waves as she pulls away. I head up the front porch and hear Olivia Newton-John’s “Hopelessly Devoted to You” coming from the open basement window. Poor Fergus. If Mom’s putting him through his paces right after the competition, it means the new routine wasn’t as ready as she’d hoped.

I grab a dog biscuit from the bowl on the kitchen counter and walk down the basement stairs. Mom’s still in costume, and she’s singing along to the CD. Fergus has his eyes glued to her, watching for hand commands. She turns to the slow beat of the song and twirls her finger in the air.

“No, spin!” Mom yells as Fergus rolls on his back.

“Fergie!” I call out. Fergus freezes for a second, and then hops up and runs over to me. I make a fist and he sits. “Say hello.”

Fergus sneezes and then gives me a deep, gravelly Scooby-Doo “Rello.”

I toss him the biscuit and turn to see Mom staring at me, hands on her hips, obviously pissed I’ve interrupted them.

“Didn’t go well?” I ask.

Mom shakes her head and turns off the CD. “Second place! I shouldn’t have tried something so new for the competition.”

“Second place is still pretty good.”

She looks at me like I’ve just said something completely scandalous. “Good? I haven’t had a second place showing in over a year! And the first-place winner came out of nowhere—some balding man with a horrific Brussels griffon dancing to ‘Love Shack,’ of all things. If he’s going to be a regular on the competition circuit, I’ve got to step up my game.” Mom wrinkles her nose. “You should’ve seen Kathy Gates acting all smug because someone finally beat us.”

“Is she the lady with the really bad perm and the Labradoodle?

“Yes, she rarely cracks the top five with the tired routine she’s been sleepwalking through the last three years! I should’ve at least gotten some points for trying something new.”

I sit down on the floor. Fergus cuddles up to me and puts his head in my lap. “Maybe you need to pick something up-tempo,” I say, hoping she’ll choose a new song.

She adjusts her skirt and I try not to cringe. It’s way too short for a forty-seven-year-old who needs to lose fifteen pounds. “We just need to work a little harder, that’s all. But we’ll have this nailed by the next competition!”

I count to five hoping she’ll ask me about the job interview.

“Well, why don’t you head up so we can keep practicing? You know Fergus can’t concentrate if he thinks you’ll be throwing him biscuits all the time.”

“I got the job, in case you were wondering.”

She gives me a blank look. “You already have a job.”

“I quit the bookstore, remember? So Nicki took me to Land of Enchantment for an interview.” I rub Fergus’s velvety ears, knowing she’ll never admit she was only half-listening to me yesterday morning when I asked her for a ride.

She unties the scarf wrapped around her ponytail and shakes her graying hair out around her shoulders. “Oh, right. I guess I forgot it was today.”

That’s because all you care about is the dog,
I’m tempted to say. “You did remember I’m taking Fergus to see Dad this afternoon, right?”

“Of course I remember,” she says, but I’m not convinced.

“I’m bringing Ryan too.”

“Tell your father I’ll be by tomorrow, okay?”

“Sure.” I wait, hoping she’ll note that I must be really serious about Ryan because I’ve never taken anyone but Nicki to see Dad. Or maybe she’ll mention that I should invite him over for dinner so she can get to know him better.

Something. Anything.

“Fergus, come!” she commands.

He pops up and stands at her side. “Can you push the play button before you go?”

“Sure,” I say again. “Don’t tire him out too much; he’s not as young as he used to be and Dad’s roommate likes to see him do tricks.” I turn on the CD and walk up the stairs.

That’s the longest conversation we’ve had in weeks.

“Thanks for letting me come,” Samantha chirps as she skips ahead of Ryan and me on the walkway to the nursing home. Her long, blond pigtails swish back and forth, and I roll my eyes—only she could get away with wearing pigtails after the age of ten. “I
really
need to knock some time off my community involvement hours. I still have like twenty-one to go.”