Star Power (11 page)

T
here was a lot of racket coming from what appeared to be a private back room, and just as much noise came from all the people in the pub area, who were surrounding a juice bar situated under a sign that read
JUICE ONLY
—
NO ALCOHOL
. Charly looked for the neon pink sign that spelled ladies' room, but one wasn't there. What she did see, she didn't like. Over a doorway in the back, huge electric fuchsia letters said
SQUATTERS
,
THIS WAY
→, and in blue lettering ←
STANDERS
,
THIS WAY
. Charly shook her head. She guessed she was supposed to go toward the right to squat because how dare she just go to the girl's bathroom like a normal girl?

On her way toward the light, she stopped. The noise from inside the closed-off room down the hall from the rest rooms was calling her. Blending in with the rest of the people, she made her way to the door, happy there was a small peephole in it. On tiptoe, she pressed her eye over the hole, trying to see inside. Everything was minimized. She pushed harder, focusing. Things were smaller, but she could make out the crowd and the surroundings. They were encircling a table that held a bowl on top, but she couldn't see what was in it. Whatever it was, though, seemed to be holding their interest, but not hers. Standing on her toes made the bathroom urge return; she began to dance in place.

“Hey! The bathroom's over there,” a male bystander said, lingering behind her, obviously waiting to go into the back room. “I do the same thing when I gotta go. I guess everyone has a potty dance.”

Charly blushed. She didn't realize that she was being so obvious. She stepped out of his way. “Thanks,” she said, then began to walk away.

“Don't worry,” he said to her, making her stop and turn around. “Just about everybody came up on a good lick—I'm sure everybody's cabinets are empty—so, believe me, there's plenty left. You're welcome to come in and partake, so hurry back. I'll make sure there's a good variety to choose from, if the spread is as great as it was.” He winked.

She didn't know what he was talking about, what “spread” he was referring to. Not knowing what to say, and needing to get rid of the heat her bladder was causing, Charly just winked back. Her feet were connecting with the sticky tiled floor as she sped toward the Squatters sign.

Inside, all she saw were stalls, and as she made her way to them, she noticed they were filled. She grimaced and danced in place. Finally, someone wheeled their wheelchair out of the back one, and Charly brushed past her. She didn't care that she wasn't technically handicapped. Midsquat, she smiled. The sign for the ladies' room may've been a bit crass, but it was definitely befitting because there was no way she was sitting on a public toilet, even if there were paper covers.

“Mya, sister girl, I'm telling you. They don't know me. I just outran my aunt shooting at me, so why would I be scared of anything?” a squeaky voice said.

Charly clenched midstream, and made her stomach knot up. She thought the voice belonged to Rory, but the rush of splashing water was too loud to be sure.

Mya laughed. “Rory, you're crazy. You know that, right?”

Charly let go, rushing herself. She had to hurry up so she could put her hands on Rory. There was no Liam to stop her. No cameras to tape her. There was nothing but a small space and ample opportunity.

“Yes, so I've heard,” Rory said. “So what's up with you and Mitch?” she was asking Mya when Charly finished relieving herself, then stood to adjust her clothes.

“Mitch? Mitch? Mitch?” Mya tsked. “Never mind Mitch, ask me about Liam. I don't want local. I want world-wide.”

Charly's adrenaline really rose now. She knew Mya was after Liam, but she also knew she wouldn't get him. After zipping her pants, she pulled back her hair and tied it in a knot. She didn't care if her hands weren't clean. Cleanliness wasn't on her mind now. With her foot, she flushed the toilet, then she walked out of the stall.

“Charly!” Mya said, her face a mixture of surprise and something else. Her look didn't say you've-caught-me this time, it registered that she was under the influence.

“ 'Ey, sister girl,” Rory began.

Charly knew it was going to happen, but she didn't see it happening. She never saw her fist connect with Rory's face. She turned a blind eye to swinging her fists and kicking her legs. Even putting Rory into a headlock had somehow avoided her view. No, she couldn't see, and she was too mad to feel, but her adrenaline made her act. It pushed her to limits she didn't know she could reach, and made her bounce back when Rory retaliated. It was a fight of the fittest and, to Charly's surprise, it wasn't an easy one.

“Stopitstopitstopit,” Mya was yelling while she tried to part them. “Stop!”

Hands were still swinging. Feet were still kicking. Charly's hair was somehow wound around Rory's fist, and the back of Rory's shirt was pulled up and over the front of her head. Charly couldn't move her head and Rory couldn't stand. They'd deadlocked, and unless one of them let the other go, the fight was over.

“That's enough! Just let go. Somebody let go,” Mya was still yelling.

“On the count of three,” Rory said, her face toward the floor. “You let me go, and I'll let you go.”

Charly just heaved. She was tired and out of breath, but she was no fool. There was no way she was going to release Rory from her grip. As long as she had Rory bent over, she could knee her in the face. That was exactly what she was going to do if Rory didn't let her hair go. She was going to break Rory's nose with one swift movement of her leg. As if reading Charly's mind, Rory tightened the hold on Charly's hair, pulling her face closer to hers and making her head turn in an awkward position.

Mya stuck her leg between Charly's leg and Rory's face, then used both her hands to try to untangle Charly's from Rory's shirt and Rory's from Charly's hair. “Come on. Stop. The fight is over,” Mya said.

“You better get your hands off me, Charly,” Rory demanded.

Charly's laugh was laced with anger. “Or what? You gonna hurt me? How are you gonna do that, because, as you can tell, it won't be with your hands. I guess you're gonna get me locked up again.”

“Is that what this is about?” Rory asked, her voice bouncing off the floor.

“What else would it be about?” Charly snapped.

Rory released Charly's hair, then burst out laughing, Now Charly knew for a fact that Rory was crazy. To Charly's surprise, Rory put up her hands in surrender. “You got it. I deserved it.”

Charly couldn't believe Rory was mature enough to accept being wrong. The girl was loud and crass and ghettofied, but she was certainly more honest than many, to a degree. There was still the jail thing hanging over her head. Charly stood still for a few seconds, then freed Rory. She jumped back to give herself enough distance to attack again just in case.

Rory looked at Charly with glassy eyes, and Rory smiled. She straightened out her messy hair, nodding her head. “Charly St. James, sister girl! I gotta give it to you. Your little light in the behind butt can scrap. I don't remember ever having a fight like that,” she said, slurring her words.

Mya laughed. “That's because no one will fight you, Rory. So, really, it's not that you don't remember. It's that you haven't had one.” She grabbed her stomach, then bent over in a fit of laughter. One that was too extreme for the situation.

Charly just stood there taking it all in. Deserving of a butt kicking or not, Rory's reaction was off, and Mya's overwhelming glee made no sense. She sniffed the air expecting the smell of alcohol, but there wasn't one. “Are you guys crazy?” she had to ask.

“Yep,” Mya said, “crazy and loving life.” She walked over to Charly, then tried to hook her arm through hers. “Come on. It's time you enjoy life, too. You're here doing so much, but you're not having fun,” she whined like a spoiled child. “If you're gonna hang out with us, hang out.” She smiled wider, then reached into her pocket and shook something that rattled. “We've got candy!” she sang.

Charly stepped back. “I need to straighten myself up.”

Rory nodded. “Yeah . . . I did a pretty decent job on your do. My fault. Handle that, sister girl, then meet us in the other room. The one with the peephole. And make sure you come too, and don't worry about a ride home. We got you, and the car isn't stolen. Promise.” She looked at Charly with an apologetic face.

S
omething told her it wasn't going to be hard to figure out why Mya and Rory were acting the way they were, but it was going to be interesting, Charly thought. Rory's lazy tongue that made her slur and Mya's fit of unreasonable laughter had alerted her to trouble, and told her something was out of the ordinary. Predicaments she, herself, would avoid at all costs. She was here to fix a problem, not become part and parcel to one. She washed her hands, fixed her hair, straightened her clothes, then made her way out of the Squatters room. Liam was just across the pub, chatting with someone, and she waved her arms to get his attention while she walked over to him.

“Excuse us,” Charly said to whomever. “We have a slight show emergency,” she added as an afterthought, not wanting them to think she was rude.

“What happened to your face, love?” he asked, touching her softly by her ear, then turning her cheek so he could inspect her.

Charly put her hand where his had been, and felt a slight sting. She hadn't noticed the scratch in the bathroom, and hoped it wasn't as bad as it felt. She shrugged. “Listen, we have to go over there,” she said, pointing to the room where Mya and Rory were.

“Cool. What's in there?”

“Trouble and solutions, hopefully,” she said, then began to walk.

Liam stopped her. “What do you mean?”

“My answers about Mya. That's what's in there. I just know it. I just ran into her and Rory, and Rory was slurring and Mya was giddy. It was weird,” she explained.

“Whoa. Whoa. Rory? You didn't say anything about Rory just a second ago. That changes things,” he added. “So that's where the scratch came from. I knew you were hiding something. You not seeming to care about being scratched was a dead giveaway.” He looked her in the eyes. “Did you lay a hand on Rory, Charly?”

Charly shook her head adamantly. “No,” she told the truth. She hadn't put a hand on Rory, she'd put two. “Let's go, Liam. I need you for this one.”

He nodded, then led the way to the room, pushing on the door that swung both ways.

Teenagers were everywhere. Some were posted against walls, others surrounded an iron table, and a few were on the floor staring up at the ceiling as if a box office smash were showing above them. All were either acting like zombies, drunks, or clowns, and there seemed not to be a single one who was unaffected by something. “See?” Charly said. “See what I mean? I told you they were acting weird.”

“Charly! Liam! Over here,” Mya's voice called, loud and strong, then she burst into a fit of laughter for no apparent reason. She was standing next to the table, waving them over.

“Oh, I see you finally made it in,” the guy she'd met at the door before she went to the rest room said. “I saved you some.” He reached in his pocket, then began to pull his hand out.

Liam reached out and stopped the guy before he could pull out whatever from his pocket. “We're good. Thanks,” he said, then began pulling on Charly. “I've heard about these get-togethers. It all makes sense now—everything. Let's go.” He had her back through the swinging door and into the pub area in seconds, but not before she saw someone reach into the bowl, then pop something in their mouth.

“What's this? What do you mean? What all makes sense now? And did you see that?” she asked Liam, making her way back over to the door, and pressing her face against the peephole, careful not to push it open. “Is that a candy bowl?”

Liam pulled her away. “Yeah, it's candy all right. Skittles.”

Skittles. She was so tired of Skittles. It was like everywhere she looked, someone or something kept leading her mind back to the candy. “What's up with that?” She walked over to a table, pulled out a tall chair, then climbed up on it. She drummed her fingers on the tabletop.

Liam joined her. “It's called a Skittles party. It's where everyone takes their parents' medication stash, combines the loot, then they take turns picking one out. They call it Skittles because of the rainbow of colors the meds come in and not knowing what they're gonna get. It's a random selection, really, and they don't know or, possibly, even care how it'll affect them.” He made a face, then began to stand. “Let's go. We can't stay around here.”

Charly's jaw was on the floor. She'd suspected something was wrong, but never would've guessed prescription medication was involved. “Sit down, Liam. I'm afraid we can't leave. Rory and Mya are driving, and we can't let them do that. They're high.”

Liam got up from his seat. “You can wait around here if you want, but I'm out. They're not my responsibility, and our insurance doesn't cover us for stuff like this.” He eyed her. “And what if the cops come? You wanna go to jail again? This is illegal.”

Charly was up on her feet before he got the last word out. She'd done jail once, she wasn't up for it again. “Got'cha. Can we just wait outside in the car?” she asked. As much as she really didn't care for Mya, and really wasn't crazy about Rory either, she wouldn't allow them to drive.

Liam was adamant, pulling out the keys to the rental car. “Not me, Charly. I'm not waiting for them to finish getting high.”

He had a point, and she knew it. Mya and Rory weren't her responsibility either, but she couldn't just leave them, could she? No, she couldn't. It was clear that she'd have to get to Mya to get to Nia, and leaving Mya stranded wasn't a good way to do it. “I'll go get them. At least I'll try,” she said, making her way across the pub and back to the room door with Liam on her heels.

She pushed on the door, but it wouldn't budge. She tried again, and almost lost her footing. As soon as she removed her palms, it swung toward her face, and she jumped back. “Hey,” Trent greeted her. “What are you doing?” His question was filled with disappointment. He looked at Liam, then threw back his head in a what's-up fashion. “I told her to stay away,” he explained.

Charly's brows rose. “I can say the same for you. Right?” she deadpanned, putting her hand on her hip. “Anyway, I was going in to get Mya and Rory so we can drive them home.”

Trent shook his head. “Remember you heard me say ‘wrong brother'?” Charly nodded. “Well, change the sex. Now it's wrong sister. Mya's not leaving, not with you. You may have some luck with Rory, but you're gonna have to go in and carry her out.” He stuck his hands in his pockets.

Charly crossed her arms. She didn't like being dismissed so quickly. “How do you know so much?”

Trent shrugged, and a look of defeat moved across his face. “Because I'm ready to go, and I just tried to get her to leave. She won't. She won't give me the keys either, but promised to let one of my brothers drive.” He kicked at the floor. “And that's really messed up. I'm the only reason they got the car, and they promised me they wouldn't—that they couldn't—because you two would be here. It was a total setup.”

Liam nodded knowingly, then patted Trent on the back. “You're good. After all the help you've been giving me in the backyard, you know I wouldn't leave you stranded. You can ride with us.”

Charly nodded. “Definitely,” she added, feeling better. She may not have been able to pick Mya's brain about why she and Nia were clashing, but she knew Trent had answers. “So, tell me again, Trent. Why are you the only reason they got the car?” she asked as they walked out of the Juice Pub. If she didn't get anything else accomplished tonight, she'd get Trent to talk.

Trent stuck his hands in his pockets, then shrugged. “It's not really talked about anymore. It was a long time ago. No biggie,” he said, following them out of the side gate to the car.

Charly shot Liam a look, and he raised his brows and frowned, then he winked as if saying “Get him, Charly.” “Well, if you say so,” she replied, making her way to the car. She walked quickly, making the gravel roll under her feet and dust form in the air. She looked down. “Pigpen,” she said, laughing.

Liam and Trent threw her an odd glance. “Huh?” they said.

Charly shuffled her feet, making dust rise over and over. She had to get Trent to lighten up because he definitely wasn't going to spill in his current mood. He was too guarded. “Pigpen. You know, like the Charlie Brown character. C'mon, don't tell me you guys don't know about Charlie Brown and Pigpen.” Trent nodded slightly, and the corners of his mouth stretched. “Don't tell me I'm the only one who had to watch the holiday specials with my mom.” She looked at them both. She was pretty sure Liam had no idea what she was talking about, but she knew she had Trent's attention. The expression on his face told her so. He was just being cool about it. “You guys suck,” she said, then made her way to the passenger side of the car. She stood by the door, refusing to budge, knowing if she reached for the handle, Liam would have a fit. He took the gentleman thing to heart.

Trent stopped next to her and looked at her. His face told her he didn't understand why she was just standing there. “You okay?” he asked.

Liam ran around the car, then opened the door for her. “You blokes here,” he said to Trent, shaking his head. “Women aren't supposed to open doors, mate. Not if a man is around.” He schooled him, then walked around to the driver's side of the car.

Trent nodded, taking it all in. “My bad. Girls around here are . . . well, girls. They don't demand that kind of respect.” He opened the back door, then got into the car.

“Command,” Charly corrected. “Girls demand, women command respect.” She laughed, sliding into the front seat. “Even young women like me.” She closed the door, then turned around in her seat, resting her arm on the headrest. “I demand a lot, but because I work hard and stay on point—keeping my word, looking out for people, and, thankfully, keeping my grades up—my character kind of commands a certain type of respect.” She winked at him. She was baiting him, and hoped he'd bite. “You get it. Just like you look out for your friends. I'm sure that comes with some perks. It should.” She turned around, then strapped the seat belt across her torso and lap. Liam put his phone in the arm console, started the car, then revved the engine a little. “You want the top down?” he asked Charly.

Charly shook her head, then pointed to Liam's foot, then waved her hand, telling him to lay off the engine. She needed quiet. “No, I would love it, but I don't need any distractions. I can't zone out looking at the scenery,” she said after he stopped pressing on the accelerator. “I have to work out how to pull this off. I'm running behind,” she said as loud as she could so Trent could hear. She widened her eyes, looking intently at Liam, then said under her breath, “Star power. Remember?”

Liam nodded then grinned. “Now you got it.” He pulled off. “Well, cash in some of your perks. As much as you help other people, it shouldn't be a problem.”

Trent sat up, then leaned forward as much the seat belt would allow. “What are all these perks you two keep talking about?”

Charly smiled at him, nodding. He was playing right into her hand just as she had planned, but it would be worth it for all involved. No matter what, she promised herself, she was ready to bargain. He'd wanted to help Liam with the set, so that meant he'd be even more willing to help her with her portion of the show. No, he wasn't one of the extra hands who'd offered their services for a little publicity. She looked back at him and just stared, knowing the silence would just turn up his curiosity. Plus, she needed to size him up. If she got her way, she'd have to make him over too so he'd be camera-ready, and that meant making him a heartthrob. With one glance, his being an easy fix was apparent. He had features she could definitely work with, and was definitely a bonus for the special summer makeover show. He was a local and, on top of that, a teen whom Nia liked, so why not use him? She was sure she would be able to negotiate him some camera time, and knew he wanted it. She nodded. Yes, she'd spread her wings and turn into the angel who'd change his life while she changed others'. The town would shine when she was finished with it. Nia, Trent, the cast and crew, the locals and the town. That's one of the things star power was for—getting to the top—and that's just what she planned to do. “Perks. You know, like karma. When you do good things for people, good things come back to you. You know, like Mya and Rory and your brothers and whoever else using you so they could go to the pub.”

“Used? I never thought about it like that. But now that you've said it, that's exactly what they did. Just like they did to Nia.” He had finally spilled, and Charly knew it was only the beginning.