Page 40 of All That Glitters
Veronica groaned first, easing one eye open and immediately regretting it. “What time is it?”
Debbie squinted at the window, the effort causing sharp pains in her eyeballs. “Daylight time.” She pulled a cushion over her face to block the light. “Make it stop.”
Veronica fumbled for the sunglasses on the floor and slid them onto her face. “So, did you talk to him last night?”
“Talk to who?”
“Tony,” Veronica said, her voice raspy. “You were finally gonna out yourself. Tell him about your not-so-secret undying love for him.”
Debbie looked down and saw the phone in her hand. The memories, blurry and tequila-soaked, came crashing back. She sat bolt upright, then immediately clutched her head as the room spun violently. “Oh. My. Gosh. You let me drunk dial Tony?”
“It was too funny not to,” Veronica croaked.
Debbie cringed, rubbing her pounding temples.
“So did you guys talk?”
Debbie thought about it, trying to piece together the fragments of the night before. It was like trying to assemble a jigsaw puzzle while wearing oven mitts. “No. No, I think I got his voicemail.” A fresh wave of horror washed over her. “And then I proceeded to leave a long, mushy message.”
“Did you tell him you wanted to have his babies?”
Debbie froze, gritting her teeth. “I don’t know. But I might have.”
Veronica burst into laughter, which immediately turned into a pained groan. “Ow, don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
“It’s not funny,” Debbie hissed. “We’ve gotta erase that voicemail before he hears it.”
Veronica stopped laughing. Her sunglasses slid down her nose, revealing bloodshot eyes wide with disbelief. “We?”
The alley behind Tony’s duplex smelled of stale beer, discarded food, and other things Debbie and Veronica didn’t want to think about. They crept along the wall, hugging the shadows, both wearing sunglasses that made them look ridiculously suspicious. Their heads pounded with each step.
“Do you know what the Bar is gonna do to my future career if we get caught for breaking and entering?” Veronica whispered frantically. “I’ll be disbarred before I even pass the exam. I’ll have to become one of those lawyers who advertise on bus benches. ‘Injured? Call the Garbage Girl!’”
“It’s your fault,” Debbie shot back, peering around a dumpster to make sure the coast was clear. “You’re the one who let me drink and dial.”
“I wasn’t the designated dialer!” Veronica protested. “That’s not even a thing!”
“But you knew I was doing it! And friends don’t let friends dial drunk!”
“Let’s just do this,” Veronica sighed, giving in.
The girls dashed down the alley to the back wall of Tony’s duplex and stopped beneath the high bathroom window. Debbie looked up at it.
“I’m gonna need a boost,” Debbie said.
Veronica cupped her hands, and Debbie clumsily used her as a stepping stool to reach the window. Veronica grunted under her weight. “Have you been eating concrete? You’re heavy.”
“It’s muscle,” Debbie grunted, straining to reach the window. “From all the running. Away from fires. That I accidentally start.”
Debbie reached the window ledge and peered inside. The bathroom was small and cluttered, but mercifully empty. She pulled a screwdriver from her pocket and jammed it into the window frame, trying to jimmy it open. It slipped from her sweaty grasp, and the handle struck the glass with a sharp crack. The window shattered, raining glass onto the bathroom sink below.
“Oops.”
“Tell me you didn’t just say ‘oops,’” Veronica whispered from below.
“It was a small oops.”
“There’s no such thing as a small oops when it involves breaking and entering.”
