Page 78 of Dirty Daria
“Nick Moony just turned up dead.”
“Goddamn it!” I turn to punch something before I remember where I’m at and try to reign it in.
Mother fucker!
“What happened?”
“Hung himself. Though I doubt it was self-inflicted.”
“Shit. Okay. I guess we’re back to square one.” I turn to leave the office, turning back as I hit the doorway. “Oh, chief?”
“Yeah?”
“You got that backwards. Andrews is definitely the worse news of the two.”
“Get outta here, ya’ dick.” He throws a crumpled piece of paper at me. I duck even though it wouldn’t hurt if it hit me.
When I get back to my desk, Andrews is already sitting across from me, in Reed’s chair. Rocking back and forth like he’s self-soothing and tapping his pencil against his forehead.
It’s how he thinks.
Fuck my life.
34
Quinn
I have an idea. And I already know that I’m the only one who’s going to think it’s a good one. So, I’m not even going to tell Daria about it. Or Mack. They would just disagree with me and try to talk me out of it. If that didn’t work, I have a feeling one of them would tie me up and lock me in a closet so I couldn’t go through with it.
I’m fairly certain it’s fool proof. Or at least as fool proof as I can get something without knowing all the outside parameters involved. Like who I’ll run into. Or what they’ll do. Or where I’ll go. Which sounds like a lot, but I don’t think it is.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Reed and his decision to go undercover. The only reason he could have is to find David’s killer. I mean, he loved David, even if David was a douchey scumbag. They were friends as kids, they grew up together, college roommates and all that. So, it makes sense that even if a part of Reed hated David now, he would still want vengeance, right? Or at least closure?
To bring justice to David’s memory.
So, to aid in that, I have an idea.
I have a dress all picked out. It’s dark blue, which goes better with my eyes than black. And tight around the chest, because, a girl should show the assets that are worthy. Loose and flowy around my hips and butt, which is fine by me because I don’t like them anyway, but still short, to about mid-thigh. When I put my heels on, the combination makes my legs look a mile long.
Or like Daria’s.
Which is ah-mazing!
I showered already, shaved every part of me that needed it, and moisturized a ton. Because there’s no telling when I’ll get a chance to do that again. And I’m a firm believer in moisturizer. That and staying hydrated. The two best things you can do for your skin.
Anyway, my nails are polished, both fingers and toes, in a light pink so that if it chips it won’t be as noticeable as some of the darker colors are. I suppose I could have just gone with a clear coat as well, but I really like having just a hint of color. I think it makes my hands look more elegant and interesting.
My hair is pinned up in loose curls, with just the right number of tendrils falling around my face. I almost feel like I’m getting ready for prom all over again and my mom is going to barge in with her camera and start taking pictures of my whole getting ready process. An entire roll. She’s excessive. Case in point, thirty-six photos of me putting my makeup on. Never to be looked at again.
A nicer bra and panty set, since you never know who’s going to be looking. Nothing too sexy or slutty, simple lace cups and a booty short, also in navy blue. Some soft eye makeup, bright red lips, just a hint of shimmer in my décolletage and at the tops of my eyelids. Small glass studs in my ears, which in the right light look like cubic zirconia.
A few finishing touches on my hair and it’s almost time for my dress. I’m never quite sure if you are supposed to put your shoes on before the dress, or vice versa. Or if it matters. But when I stand in front of the full-length mirror, all I see is a girl who looks dressed to kill and sexy as hell. Which is perfect for what I’m going for.
I stick my cell phone, compact, lipstick, and eyedrops in my clutch and head out the door. My Lyft should be here any minute and I already have multiple destinations requested just in case I don’t get it right the first time.
I look back at my little apartment above the garage once last time, in case I don’t see it again for a while. If I had a dog, this is where it would sit in the window and wag its tail as a way of saying goodbye. Oh, except if I had a dog, I’d need someone to feed and walk it in case I’m not back right away. Since I’m the only person I know who does that for other people, maybe the dog is a bad idea. So, instead, I’ll just say goodbye to the apartment.
The car pulls up and I get in the back.
