Page 7 of You're so Bad

I shrug. “Your grandmother said you were part of some sort of art collective with that actress Sinclair.”

“I am, but we haven’t really gotten up and running yet. The grand opening for The Waiting Place is on October 1st. Sinclair’s been busy with…” She waves her hand.

“That shitty movie your grandmother and I were in?”

“Exactly. So certain details needed to…well, wait.”

“What’s the deal with the name, anyway? Reminds me of the clink.”

“You’ve been to jail?” she asks, wide-eyed.

“Only lockup.”

She nods slowly, chewing on that, then says, “It’s from a Dr. Seuss book. We’re a bunch of artists who are going to teach people at all different levels of ability to craft. The focus will be on helping people find their form of artistic expression.”

“You gonna show me how to make an ashtray?”

“Why am I not surprised you smoke?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“Only 420.” The look she’s giving me says she doesn’t think that’s any better, and maybe it’s worse. It helps me settle down, but I’m not about to say so. I don’t tell people about the dreams. Not even Burke knows, and he’s the person I’ve told the most. “So what happened at the craft fair?”

“Bianca was there selling her handmade pompoms.” I laugh. She continues speaking as if I hadn’t. “She calls them Queen Bee Pompoms, maybe you’ve heard of them.”

I laugh again. “I sure as shit haven’t.”

She shrugs, but there’s a slight smile on her face. “They’ve become pretty big over the last couple of years. Anyway. I’d seen her around a few times before, but this time we got to talking. We sort of hit it off. Fast forward four years. A little while after I started dating Colter, she met this guy Carter. We weren’t as close by then, because her business had started blowing up, and mine… Let’s just say I was working at a sweaty-ass gym to pay for my shitty studio space before Sinclair came along. Bianca had found other friends, but we did a lot of couple stuff together for the next year and a half or so. And then she and Carter—”

“Has a type, huh?” I ask.

This gets me a small smile. “They broke up, and she asked me to get drinks with her. Lift her up, you know? Obviously I wasn’t going to say no to that.”

“What she’d do, roofie you?”

She gives a shake of her head, her lips turned up. “No, she got me drunk and told me about Carter being an ass, then asked me to tell her all the things that bothered me about Colter. Turned out there were a lot.”

“Like what?” I ask, unable to help myself.

She looks at her beer, then takes a sip. “He wanted me to be more like him.”

“Boring?”

She gives a half-hearted laugh. “Maybe. And he didn’t get my art. He encouraged me to make something more commercial. Bianca had been on that party line for a while. Maybe they were already fucking.”

Probably, but I don’t say so. “They’re wrong. I don’t even like art, and I like yours.”

Her lips lift up slightly. “Thanks. Anyway, she convinced me to call him out on a few things over text, and it led to this huge fight. We decided to take a break, and the next thing I know, Bianca’s calling me up. She’d never planned on it happening, she said, but she and Colter had hit it off. They were in love, and she’d do anything to get me to forgive her. Anything but give him up, obviously.”

“Huh, ballsy,” I say.

Shauna shoves my arm and frowns at me.

“Shitty too.” I lift my hands. “But there’s no denying she’s got some balls. That means you’ve gotta show her yours are bigger.”

“Those pompoms she makes are fucking enormous. I don’t know if mine are bigger.”

She surprises me into laughter, and it’s even more of a surprise when she laughs with me. I feel a twinge of…something, but maybe it’s just that old impulse to ruin things. I’ve got a good thing going, being friends with Constance. I don’t want to fuck that up.

I shake off the thought. “When did she make that call to you?”

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