Paulie looked to me with wide eyes, a satisfying look of desperation creasing his features.I felt my own lips curve into a grin that widened as Misely continued, cocking her hip in a way that leaned her into my hold further.Unable to help myself, I ran an encouraging palm over the exposed skin at her side.This woman and her fucking crop tops.
“Don’t look at him, sweetheart, I’m speaking.”Her statement held all the condescension of a million car salesmen when they spoke to women.“Now, off the top of my head, from the exterior condition alone I’d say that this van is worth no more than $1,000.Because you made a poor attempt to swindle me, we’ll knock off a hundred bucks.Really Paulie, you could’ve been more convincing.Add in our $300 scrap discount, and that’s six hundred.Seems fair to me, what do you think, baby?”
She looked up, batting those gray-blue eyes at me innocently.I gave her a look that I hoped expressed how impressed I was with her.Because,fuck,I was.Something glittered there as she waited for me to add my piece and I wondered if it would be inappropriate to steal a kiss from those sparkling pink lips before deciding,fuck it, and doing it anyway.She hummed against my mouth making satisfaction swirl in my chest.
My eyes didn’t leave hers when I pulled back, my voice huskier than I would have liked.“Well, considering I’m a professional mechanic with a shop of my own back home, maybe I should take a perusal of the vehicle first.Maybe we’ll be able to drop that down a couple extra—”
“Fine!Six hundred even.”Paulie interjected, making us both look back to him.He ran a hand through his thinning hair, revealing his stress.Rodger stood to the side, covering his mouth to hide a smile that I still caught.
twenty-one
Misely
“Well,hedidn’tlieabout one thing,” I said an hour later, kicking my feet up on the dash of the passenger side.The seats had cigarette burns, and the interior was laced with the acrid odor of many years of neglect and smoke and things probably better left to the imagination.“It is ‘vintage’.1985 Chevrolet G20.High demand, though?I doubt it.”
I’d pulled the van’s owner’s manual out of the glove compartment and thumbed through it.The pages were the cleanest thing in the entire vehicle, making me wonder if it’d ever been touched.I felt Talon’s sidelong glance my way.If he was surprised by my breaking the silent treatment I’d been giving him for two days, he didn’t express it.I’d been angry.Angrier than even I had expected.And the reality was, I couldn’t really nail down what exactly I was angry about.
I’d gone back to our room that night and done my best to wait up for him.I wanted to grill him more about the strange phone call I’d overheard.But I’d fallen asleep before he’d ever come back to the room and when I woke up to him tucking me in, I’d kept my eyes squeezed shut tightly, pretending I didn’t feel him pull me in to his chest and breathing me in.When I felt the handcuff latch around my wrist though, my heart had sunk.And I felt…hurt.
That’s probably why I was so pissed.Not only at Talon, but at myself.Because why the hell did I feel anything?Lust was one thing.Fury.Hatred.All things I could understand.All things that at least made some sense.But hurt?Over what?Him being exactly who he claimed to be?Ridiculous.That’s the kind of crap romanticizing, heart-eye Misely from one year ago would get caught up in.
Not badass, independent, make her own way Misely of the here and now.
Talon’s only response to my random factoid was a halfhearted grunt.For whatever reason, that made me itchy for him to say something.An uncomfortable tingling starting in my ankles and crawling over my bones until it hit my teeth, trying to force me to open my mouth and carry on the one-sided conversation.I didn’t.I bit my lips and leaned forward, poking the power button to the radio.Talon sighed heavily but did not protest.
Static overwhelmed the cab, so I began to turn the dial through stations.Country, country, yodeling?Country, hip hop, country, pop, pop, country, gospel, hip hop, until finally—yes!I settled on a station that was playing Y2K punk music.I hummed along, barely containing my grin.A nostalgic sense of comfort filled me up and I just barely missed the look of confusion that Talon gave me.
“What?”I snapped, feeling a little defensive.
“Just wouldn’t have pegged you as a punk chick, that’s all.Seems more like your friend’s thing.”
I rolled my eyes so hard I was sure I could see the back of my own brain.
“I guess this is just your friendly reminder that you don’t know a thing about either of us.”I looked away from him, trying not to let myself get bitter.I shouldn’t have said anything.I should have ignored him altogether.I shouldn’t have broken the silent treatment.
Talon shrugged his shoulder.“You’re right.I wouldn’t have pegged you two as friends at all if I hadn’t seen you together with my own eyes.You seem so different.”
I resisted rolling my eyes again.Not because of him per say, but more because I’d heard it so often.Aesthetically, Birdie and I were different, sure.We liked different clothes and makeup.But on the inside?Birdie was my other half, through and through.She had this way of softening all my sharp edges, holding me accountable and always, always being a constant source of support.Constantly getting tossed looks or hearing people remark on how ‘different’ they thought we were was tiring and irksome.
“I suppose if all you see is what’s on the outside, then yes, we’re different.”I crossed my arms over my chest glaring out the passenger window.The music had lost its appeal.
Talon went quiet again for a moment before saying, “Okay.”His tone was contemplative.“Then tell me.How did you become friends?”
“Why do you even care?”I bit out before thinking better of it.
When I looked at him through narrowed eyes, he seemed unbothered by my snappish response.
“Fine, don’t tell me.We’ll be in the car for another…” He pretended to think about it for a second.“Three to four hours at least.If you’d like it to be silent, that’s no issue for me.”
I groaned, slapping my palms to the top of my thighs.Leaning my head against the back of my seat, I stared up at the nicotine stained roof.Just thinking about the day that I met Birdie brought better feelings to the surface, a small smile curving against my mouth.
“It wasalmostimmediate,” I said, letting my eyes fall closed.“It was the day of freshman orientation and we’d both just arrived on campus and were dropping our bags off in our dorm.Neither of us had any family accompany us, so we were just standing there awkwardly.
“She was wearing this grungy looking jean skirt that had safety pins all over it and a black t-shirt.I was so intimidated by her at first, it was kind of hard to make eye contact.She looked at me like I was a total freak.I was wearing my favorite shoes at the time—six-inch Barbie pink pumps that gave meallof the confidence, and a sequin crop top.Looking back now I guess I can see how that wasn’t the typical attire for day one on campus, but oh well.I looked hot.
“Before we could even say hi or introduce ourselves, we took a look around our dorm and it was adisaster.It was probably the tiniest room on campus, the mattresses were stained, and there was a leak in the ceiling that was dripping on very old, yellowing cracked tile.
“Well anyway, I do this thing where I will sometimes quote music that could apply to a situation when I’m feeling uncomfortable.So I did that, and right when I caught myself, Birdie finished the verse.The rest is history; we’ve been inseparable ever since.”