Page 73 of You're so Basic

Big Mike, clear as day, wearing a blue polo shirt with a popped collar and khaki pants. I’d know that ruddy complexion anywhere. He’s not looking at me, so I follow his gaze to a cubicle across the way, where Dunkins is sitting in a desk chair, Danny seated across from him. Big Mike mutters something under his breath, then slips into an office. What the…

If he were under arrest for hamster napping or making financial deals with small children, he wouldn’t be allowed to wander around the station, would he? Then again, I’m a public fornicator, and I was allowed to use the restroom…

I make my way toward the cubicle, my mind a mess.

“Take a seat, take a seat,” Dunkins says as I near the desk. He nods to the empty chair next to Danny’s. I lower into it, watching him. Wondering about Big Mike.

There’s a cup of coffee sitting on the cubicle desk, and I fight a cringe as Dunkins lifts it up for a sip. It’s got be cold and stale, but he doesn’t so much as flinch.

Someone needs to get this guy a good pumpkin spice latte, but I hope to Jesus they’ll ask for oat milk.

Nodding at the phone, Dunkins says, “Go ahead. Make that call, son.”

Danny doesn’t hesitate, and he’s clearly got a much better memory than I do, because he dials his friend’s number from memory.

My gaze wanders back to the door I saw Big Mike slip into, but there’s no sign of him.

I hear Danny murmuring to Shane. He doesn’t tell him what happened, probably because that would be the same as admitting to it, and he spends enough time with a lawyer to know better. Dunkins is looking at his screen, and he clicks through to something and then straightens in his seat as if he downed a gallon of milk and it just caught up with his digestive system. The second after he reads whatever it is, he minimizes the window.

Danny returns the phone to its cradle. “He’s coming,” he tells Dunkins.

“No need, no need,” Dunkins says, leaping up from his chair with more oomph than I thought him capable of. “Chief says I can let you go with a warning.” He waves a finger at us, and adds, “No more fornicating outside. You might think only the trees see you, but the man upstairs knows. And so do I.” He taps his fingers to his eyes, accidentally touches his eyeball and flinches as he shifts the fingers to point at us.

Danny’s brow furrows, because this is quite the turnaround. My mind jumps back to Big Mike, ducking into that room.

He did this. I’m not sure why, or how, but he’s the reason why we’re walking free.

Danny gets to his feet in a quick, fluid movement, not about to let this reprieve go. It’s obvious he wants to get out of here as badly as I do. Or maybe more. He’s been for-real arrested, so this must be bringing up memories for him.

I want to ask him more about that. I want to know everything about him, but I also want to get the hell out of here.

He helps me with my crutches, and not five minutes after we entered the pen, we’re leaving through the door we used to enter it.

“Now, no more screwing around, kids,” Dunkins says. “But you have yourselves a blessed holiday. You can tell everyone at the Thanksgiving table that you’re grateful for law and order.”

“Will do,” Danny says, “and we’ll say we’re grateful foryou, Officer Dunkins.” Although I know he’s being sarcastic, Dunkins grins as if he’s just saved the world from a couple of delinquents. He shuts the door after us, so any thought of him driving us back to our car flies out the window.

Danny puts his arms around me. “I am so fucking sorry,” he says in a whisper that finds my ear.

As if it’s his fault.

As if I didn’t twist his arm to take me out there in the leaves, with the view of the mountains spread out before us like a buffet.

“Do I smell?” he mutters. “I don’t know if it’s my paranoia kicking in, or what, but I think I smell like that car. I’m worried I’m always going to smell like that car.”

Laughter rumbles through me. “You don’t. But let’s put a plastic bag over my boot and take a shower when we get back. A long one. There’s something I have to tell you first though.”

Big Mike, slipping into that room.

Big Mike, at the station but not in uniform.

“Come around to the front of the building,” he says, giving me a squeeze. “There’s a bench we can sit on across the street while we wait for Shane.”

We make our way there, slowly, and even though it’s afternoon by now, it’s not much warmer than it was this morning. The fall is deepening, getting ready to give way to winter. Maybe that’s a good thing: winter isn’t the kind of season that lends itself to hexes. I’d like to think it doesn’t, at least.

When we’re settled on the creaky wooden bench, Danny leans my crutches up against one side. After he texts Shane an update, he puts his arm around me again. I let myself settle into him, then lean into his ear. I need to tell him about Big Mike, but what comes out first is, “You called me your girlfriend.”

He edges away slightly so he can look at me. “I didn’t want Dunkers to think you were—”

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