Page 6 of Script Swap
“She’s so pretty,” Millie said.“She looks like one of those girls on those Japanese shows you watch, doesn’t she, Keme?”
Keme had the decency to blush—and the wisdom not to answer.Instead, he turned to me and said, “What’s wrong with your face?”
“Shetouchedme!And she told Bobby his suffering was delicious, which is legit something out of—not even a Stephen King novel.Oh!It’s straight out of Clive Barker!”
“What suffering?”Millie asked.“Bobby, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Bobby said.
“What’s wrong?”Indira asked as she rejoined us.
“Nothing,” Bobby said.
“Everything,” Fox said.And then, with a particularly dirty look for me, he said, “Apparently Dash was assaulted by the Hamburglar.Presumably as a child.”
“It popped out!She was making eye contact!”
“Ah,” Indira said.“Tinny.”
“Wait,” I said, “you know Tinny?”
Indira gave me a little arch of her eyebrows that must have been the mature, adult equivalent of rolling your eyes.“Why don’t we get to our seats?”
Everyone else seemed to have the same idea, so we filed into the house.Like the rest of the building, it preserved a level of craftsmanship—and a style—that had long since gone the way of all the earth.More of those decorative details painted in gold leaf.Chandeliers that—while yes, a bit dusty—were strung with crystals that winked in the soft, warm light.High above us, the muses looked down from the ceiling.
We shuffled along, exchanging greetings with friends and neighbors.Althea and Bliss Wilson had dressed up for the occasion—Althea in a black evening gown, her white hair shining against it, and Bliss in a spangly cocktail dress, with an enormous feather boa she kept trying to tickle Althea with.There was something stabilizing and reassuring and normal about seeing the two women together after that bizarre encounter with Terrence and Tinny.
Maybe Terrence actually believed that schlock about me being the real star, though, because our seats might have been the best in the house.We were close enough to the stage to see everything, but far enough back that we didn’t have to crane our necks, and most importantly, our seats had drink holders.(A modern convenience that people hadn’t yet dreamed up in simpler times.)
No sooner were we settled, though, than Fox leaned past Bobby and said to me, “He thinks he’s in love with her.”
It didn’t take a genius to put together theheand theherin that sentence.
“Oh,” I said.“Well—”
“Which is ridiculous.He’s more than twice her age.He’s got to be at least fifty years older than her.”
“Bobby’s older than me,” I said.
Bobby shot his eyebrows at that.
From the other side of Fox came Keme’s “This is why I always call him a donkey.”
And, even worse, Indira’s answering “I know, dear.”
“He’s not in love with her,” Fox said.“Hecan’tbe in love with her.”
And then they paused.Waiting.
“Uh,” I said, “I’m sure it’s complicated.”
Fox stared at me.By degrees, their expression got icier and icier.And then they gave a single emphatic huff and returned to their seat.
“Did I say something wrong?”I whispered to Bobby.
Bobby patted my hand.
“What was I supposed to say?‘Off with her head’?”
