Page 8 of The Big Easy & Other Lies
“No.”
Bran chimed in. “You’re saying Delphine is going to pick up your cell bill and pay your SoHo tuition?”
I frowned. “I’m saying that I think Satan must have spit, and that’s how Angelique got born. She’s an evil droplet of Satan spit. Therefore, I think I’ll skip the party.”
“That spit is a true fact,” Bran said.
“What’s that quote Mr. Holmes always says?” Livvie asked. “Something about how Angelique triumphs if good men sit by and do nothing?”
“That’s from Winston Churchill,” I corrected her. “He said evil triumphs when good men do nothing.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Ba dum dum.” Bran tapped out a rim shot on the back of her seat.
“Yeah, the last Labor Day party with Angelique went so well for me,” I said. “Only an idiot would go back after that.” The Labor Day party rotated among select LaSalle families for hosting. Two years ago, the Guidrys’ party had been the start of my troubles with Angelique. Her boyfriend at the time, a senior football player named Cash—who happened to be the son of the hosts—had cornered me in the kitchen and hit on me. Despite my best efforts to shut him down, Angelique walked in and busted him grabbing my butt as if somehow that was my fault. And now she hated me for trying to “steal” a boy I wouldn’t take if he came with a free puppy.
It didn’t help one bit that when Mrs. LeBlanc came to investigate Angelique’s conniption fit, she flipped out on her daughter instead of me, for some reason. Bran said it was rich people guilt, and his folks are rich so maybe he knows. All I knew was that I escaped the kitchen after that and hid in the catering van until the party died down enough for Miss Annie to let Livvie drive me home.
“Last year Angelique never even came in the house,” Bran said. “She hung out by the pool and charmed people. It’ll be fine as long as she doesn’t know you’re there.”
Easy for him to say. He wasn’t there when she charged into the kitchen and found me trying to push Cash off of me. He didn’t see her face twist in anger or listen to the vile insults fly out of her mouth. If Livvie hadn’t come in right then and cussed Angelique out while Cash dragged her off and her mom hissed at her to act like a proper LeBlanc, I don’t know what she would have done next.
“Let’s sum up,” said Livvie. “You can let evil triumph, or you can make a grip of cash. I worked the LeBlanc’s Thanksgiving soiree last year and trust me, Judge LeBlanc tips huge.”
“If I set Angelique on one side of a scale and my paycheck on the other, how’s that scale going to lean?”
“Toward your paycheck by a hair,” said Bran. “He’s loaded. Sick piles of old family money. And if I tell Dean to keep pouring the whiskey for Judge LeBlanc, then he’ll get even more loaded and hand out bonuses like crazy.”
Livvie pressed her advantage. “You have to come. If Angelique tries to get at you, I’ll spit in her soda and serve it to her as a cocktail, I swear.”
“Gross!” I yelped and then broke up when she held up her hand and Bran high-fived it. “You are terrible people and excellent friends.”
Livvie and I went all the way back to the first day at Magellan Middle School when we were assigned to do an icebreaker together in our life science class. In eighth grade, she appointed herself my bodyguard after the Toni Chenevert debacle.
Toni had hung out with us in PE, and we liked her. She wanted to know why Livvie always invited her over, but I never did. Since I hadn’t wanted to lose one of the few friends I’d made thanks to my paralyzing shyness, I invited Toni to come over one day when I knew Delphine would be out shopping. I had warned Toni about the house, but as soon as I’d let her in, she burst out crying and ran home. The next day she blabbed about it to everyone under the guise of “being worried for Cam.” Her mom even said something about it to the principal. He called me in to investigate, but since Delphine had put the fear of God into me about ending up in the foster system, I had denied that there was a problem, and my overworked principal dropped it.
I ate my lunch in the library that day and every day for the rest of the year. Livvie joined me sometimes, but she couldn’t convince me to show my face in the cafeteria again. No one was mean to me or anything, but they had all looked at me like...I don’t know. Like I was tainted or something. Or like they felt sorry for me. Or better than me.
Livvie had convinced me to apply for LaSalle to leave the humiliation behind when our classmates all went on to the public high school. She helped me write the most tear-jerking essayeverto win my scholarship. She won hers with a perfect grade point average. Not that my grades were bad. I just couldn’t get higher than a B in science to save my life. Dr. Bickham’s class would be keeping the 3.8 streak alive for me this year.
“Fine,” I said, conceding defeat. “I’m going on the condition that neither of y’all talk to or doanything else,” I poked Livvie, “to Angelique.”
“Miss Annie thanks you.” Livvie snatched the water bottle from her cupholder and took a swig. “But you should let me at Angelique.”
“Can we stop talking about her?” I begged. “I’ve got bigger problems right now.”
“Capstone?” Bran asked.
“Meaner.”
Livvie snorted. “Delphine.”
“Yeah. She’s getting worse.”
Bran shook his head. “Not possible.” Bran was the only other human being on the planet who knew the details of my living situation. He and Livvie had “dated” for about a week during our freshman year, until they decided they had no chemistry. And they didn’t, but Bran fit us somehow, and he stuck around. Eventually, I got used to him enough to let him in on the crazy. Over time. Alotof time.
“You wouldn’t think so,” I said. “But the new dollar store opened over in Metairie and she came home with a car full of canned cat food and more yogurt than we can fit in the fridge. Guess what I had for dinner last night? And breakfast this morning?”
