Page 35 of Anywhere with You
“Nope. She violated the Endangered Species Act.”
Cara leaned forward. The waiter passed by, smiled at us, and kept going.
“She was caught with a baby sea turtle during Mardi Gras,” I said.
Cara put both her hands over her mouth. “What?”
“Well, first she was arrested for public urination, then the officer saw that her pocket was moving. And dripping. That’s where he found the sea turtle.”
“You are making this up,” Cara said, dropping her hands.
“No, if I was making up a story, it would be believable. So the turtle is fine. It goes to a rehabilitation center. But Tamara goes to prison.”
“For turtle smuggling?”
“Well, for that and for punching a cop in the testicles for stealing her pet. She testified that it was a rare species of cat, then called the judge a stupid fuckface for not believing her. And then she vomited a bright blue substance, according to the news, all over her lawyer.”
Cara tried hard not to laugh, but she managed to say, “I don’t believe a word of this.”
But I expected that response, and I already had my phone out.I turned it to show her the article: “Houston Woman Convicted on Multiple Counts, Including Endangered Species Act Violation.”
There’s a picture, too. Tamara, still lovely, with a bright blue smile.
We finished the last bites of our meals and ordered dessert, chatting about our one-sided romances and cocktails that did not contain blue Kool-Aid.
“What about your first kiss?” Cara asked.
“Oh, it was magical. Freddie what’s-his-name. Sixth grade. On the school bus on our way back from a field trip to a drastically boring cave.”
“Hey, caverns can be cool.”
“Nerd. Anyway, we were holding hands, and he leaned over to kiss me just as the bus hit a pothole. He slammed his face into mine so hard that I broke a tooth.”
Cara shook her head, staring at me in horror. “That’s traumatizing. Is that why you only kiss women now?”
“Yes. That’s why I only kiss women now. Obviously.” I laughed. “What about you?”
“Oh, mine was much better. I was in fourth grade, and a boy on the playground kissed me…with tongue.”
“No,” I said, not sure whether to laugh, but Cara was grinning.
“Yes, except I didn’t know about French kissing, so I kept my lips together, and he just licked my mouth.”
I had to laugh, and Cara just shook her head at me.
“Gross,” I said. “But that doesn’t count. What’s the first kiss you actually participated in?”
“Oh,” Cara mocked. “Your dental injury counts, but me being lapped at like a dog doesn’t? Fine. It was five long, kissless years later.”
I tried to count with margarita-brain. It took me a minute. “High school?”
“Yes. No, the summer before high school. This is how I got over Melissa and her seductive guitar. My parents had some friends visiting, and their son—”
“Friends, right? Not family members?”
Cara looked even more grossed out than when she told me about the licking kiss. “Not family, you weirdo. No, friends from Mexico who were in New Orleans for vacation. Their son was a year olderthan me, with these big brown eyes and unkempt hair. I adored him immediately.”
“Did he play guitar?” I smirked.
