“You’re just mad that you know I’m right and you don’t want to admit it.”
“I am not, and you’re not. Right, that is.”
“Oh, sure, sweetie. I believe you.” She patted my arm. I chucked my straw wrapper at her, and she laughed. Her smile fell as she saw someone across the dining room.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Her demeanor had completely changed. I searched and saw a table of guys looking over at us. They weren’t even being stealthy about it. They could definitely take some lessons from Dusty. One of the guys said something to the others and they all laughed. Well, it didn’t take a genius to put those two things together. Most of them didn’t look familiar, but I’d definitely seen at least two of them at the party.
Hannah tipped her head forward and her hair fell in front of her face like a mane on a depressed lion.
“So I need your help,” I said, turning so I blocked Hannah from the view of the other table, and blocked her view at the same time.
“With what?” She kept her head down. I wished I could get the whole story from her, but I knew if I pushed she’d close up like a steel trap. I knew that because I’d do the same thing.
“I really want to get a job, but I don’t want something that’s going to suck, so I need help thinking of a job I could have that wouldn’t make me want to slit my wrists.”
“I think I’m up to that challenge,” she said, finally lifting her head. I had no idea if the guys were still looking and laughing, but Hannah raised her chin and flipped her hair back so her scar was completely visible. It was a totally “suck on that” moment. Yes, there was a reason I was friends with her.
We spent the rest of our time brainstorming ideas. Some were ridiculous, like selling my organs online, or finding a potato chip that looked like the Virgin Mary, but some weren’t. The campus radio station had paid positions, I knew, as did the student newspaper. The library was another option, and I already had connections because Taylor and Hunter worked there.
“They pay ten dollars an hour for nude modeling in the art department. It’s not really that bad,” Hannah said, as if she was commenting on the weather.
“You’ve done it?” I nearly walked into the trash can as we left the Union.
She nodded.
“Here and there. I’m not ashamed of my body.” Her words were sharp, as if she wanted to pull them out of her mouth and hurl them like knives at the group of guys who had been so obviously talking about her. I bet she could if she wanted to.
“Well, I don’t know if I’m that destitute, but I’ll put it in the maybe column.” It seemed like a weird note to leave on.
“You know, if you ever want to come over to hang out or study, or whatever, you’re welcome. I have, like, a whole man cave right outside my room.”
“Sounds good. I’ll text you, okay?”
“See you in bio.”
She walked away, her shoulders a little hunched, but that might have been because of the cold.
* * *
Dusty’s Golf was parked outside when I got home that afternoon, along with Hunter’s rust bucket. The other cars were absent.
“Hey, Jos!” Hunter said when I walked in to the sounds of his guitar and Dusty’s beat boxing.
I wrote that I was home on the chart and set my bag down, noticing that the girls had written out on the chart. “Hey, Hunter. Where is everyone?”
“Um, I think Renee kidnapped Taylor and Darah to go look at wedding stuff. Or something. I sort of tuned it out. Mase is at the gym and Paul had a lab.” Weird.
“Hey, Jos,” Dusty said, giving me a sort of half smile. It wasn’t his full-on grin, and I didn’t know what to make of it.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” I went to the kitchen and grabbed an apple.
“Just thought I would swing by and see how everyone was recovering.”
Hunter looked a hell of a lot better than he did in the morning.
“I’m shocked they went shopping even though they were all hungover,” I said, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch from Dusty.
“They bounce back pretty quick. They’re young,” Hunter said with a smile as he strummed his guitar. “Requests?”
I shrugged.
Hunter put the instrument back on the little stand he had in the corner of the room. “Something wrong?”
“Not really. Just... I don’t know.” I risked a look at Dusty, and he had his hands in his pockets. “Did Hannah seem weird last night?”
“No, why?” Dusty said.
“I don’t know. She was acting weird, and then today I saw some of the guys from the party at the Union, and it was almost like they were laughing at her or something. I may be just reading too much into it, but she got very...un-Hannah-like afterward.”
“Did somebody say something to her?” Hunter leaned forward, ready to get to his feet and go after whoever it was.
“I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me. I probably should have kept it to myself. Please don’t say anything to her.” Dusty and Hunter nodded and shared a look. I could just picture the two of them, grabbing their swords and saddling up their white horses. They were cut from the same cloth.
“Who’s in charge of dinner?” I said to change the subject.
“Well, that’s also why I’m here,” Dusty said, clearing his throat. “Hunter has informed me that it’s your turn for dinner and I just happen to have volunteered my culinary skills to assist you. If you will have them.”
I had no idea if he could cook at all, or if he was just screwing with me. I also had no idea what was really behind him being here, because he obviously had a reason.
“Don’t you have your own home?”
“Yeah, a shitty apartment. Why would I want to be there, when I could be here at the Ritz?”
Yellowfield House was pretty nice. Oh, who was I kidding? It was freaking sweet, as houses went. I mean, not only was it nice, but it was so damn clean. Darah was like a fairy godmother who flitted around and made sure there were absolutely no cobwebs or dirt or anything that resembled dirt.
But still. Why was Dusty here all of a sudden? I mean, how stupid did they think I was? I mean, you wouldn’t even be able to put this past a six-year-old.
“Fine. You can help me, but we’re making what I want, and if I tell you to get out of my way and let me do something, you do it. Understood?”
Dusty looked at Hunter, who looked like he was holding back a laugh.