Page 39 of The Big Easy & Other Lies
“I told Rhett that I don’t do hot and sexy,” I said, explaining what happened and ending on a wail.
When she finished laughing—and it took a while—she caught her breath and then laughed again.
“What do I do?” I demanded. “This is the second most embarrassing moment of my life.”
“Only the second? Wow. What was the first?”
“Remember when I left public school forever? Help me figure something out before I have to leave LaSalle and live like a bag lady.”
“Bag ladies aren’t hot and sexy, so I guess that fits,” she said, her voice thoughtful.
“Livvie! I’m trying to laugh about this except IT’S NOT FUNNY.” I could feel the hot prickle of my flesh contracting as I imagined Rhett opening that text again. “This is a freaking nightmare. I texted him that I don’t do hot and sexy. Do you understand how much fail that is?”
“Well, not responding is making it worse, so you should say something.”
“I know that! Help me!”
I could hear laughter still lurking in her tone, but she kept it together when she answered. “Tell him that it was supposed to go to someone else.”
“But who admits that out loud to anyone for any reason?” I wailed again.
“Tell him it was a movie quote. Everything is a movie quote,” she said, her voice calm and rational now.
“What movie? He might ask.”
“It doesn’t matter. Make something up that he’ll never watch. Tell him it’s a Lifetime movie or something if he asks. But take a deep breath,” she said. “He’s all right. I think he’s going to give you a pass on this. Just text him, because the longer you take, the weirder it gets.”
“I’ll call you back in a second.” I ended the call and tapped out a message to Rhett.Sorry. Sent to the wrong person. Inside joke.
A minute later he texted back.No prob. So, Daddy-T’s?
No way. Daddy T’s wasn’t far in terms of miles, but it was a different universe in terms of possibility. Delphine would never let me out, and it made no sense to go even if she did. I wanted to keep Rhett at a distance. Showing up for random invitations didn’t keep people at a distance. And those were the exact arguments I used when I called Livvie back. “So of course I’m not going,” I concluded.
She countered with an argument that sounded like she had cribbed it from the secret part of my brain that told uncomfortable truths.
“You want to go. You can’t tell me you’re not dying to find out what’s happening at eight o’clock with your cute boy in a dimly lit jazz bar.” I couldn’t. “Youhaveto go on behalf of every girl who has ever had a wild crush and never had the chance to see where it could lead.”
“It’s not a wild crush.” It totally was and growing wilder by the day.
“Whatever, Cam. You are in some serious like. What is the harm here? You like him? You date? Are these bad things? He wants to come to your house, and you say no. He says, ‘You’re still awesome, let’s hang out anyway.’ You go the LeBlanc’s house and Angelique is a jerk and you punch her in the face and she never bothers you again. Then you go study to be an amazing fashion designer and forget all about us except for that one boy you stole before all the other girls had a chance, and he is a great memory and maybe even goes to college down the street in New York, and it’s all a happy ending. What’s the downside?”
“Your imagination is out of control,” I said when the word flood subsided. “No wonder you want to be a writer.”
“Thank you. I’m still waiting to hear the downside.”
“Delphine won’t let me go.”
“She’s asleep by the timeWheelis over, isn’t she? How’s she going to know?”
“She’s at bingo tonight. What if she comes home and catches me gone?” I could almost hear Livvie rolling her eyes.
“When has she ever come home from bingo before midnight?”
I didn’t answer.
“Never, that’s when,” she said. “Give me a real downside.”
“I don’t have a ride, so it’s irrelevant.”
