A Field Guide for Heartbreakers (14 page)

Examining the Triad: Mother, Father, Daughter
.”“You really read a book on the plane?” I asked.“Don’t sound so surprised. I learned a lot. Even about you.”“You did?” I asked.“Yeah, you’re doomed. But I’m doomed too. It’s called the parent/gender triad tragedy. Simply put, guys want to marry their mothers but continue to sleep with whores. And girls want to track down younger versions of their fathers and fix them. And if you have a disinterested dad you’re extra doomed.” “That seems way too simple and terrible,” I said. “Did you read the whole book or just the table of contents?” Sometimes Veronica only made it that far.“I read the whole thing. Listen, I know it’s a bummer,” Veronica said. “But it explains a lot. The book also gave me insight into why I can’t get along with my mother until I’m out of college and mature.” I didn’t challenge her any further. Again, she had a valid point. Mother-daughter relationships were notoriously fraught with tension, particularly during the teenage years. But Veronica looked so miserable about it. “Screw the Corkster. Let’s go. We’ve got a whole world out there to experience,” she said.She shoved some money into her pocket and pulled me toward the door. And then we were gone. Out the door. Out of the dorm. Onto the crowded sidewalk. Swallowed by Prague and her powerful heat.

Chapter Fifteen

I
f Veronica had wanted to wear a T-shirt with Kafka’s head on it, we could have scored that item, in any size or color, right away. Locating the perfect dress, however, took a bit more time. “Why is everything in this store made out of hemp?” Veronica asked. “I mean, what sorts of people choose to wear drug plants? And what do they know that I don’t?”“It’s a hemp boutique, Veronica. I think hemp is a very durable and eco-friendly material.”She took a sturdy green dress off a rack and lifted it up. A crude rope belt hung around its waist. “I might wear this,” Veronica said. “If I were a refugee.”“Come on,” I said, tugging her out of the store.After three hours of searching through the Castle Quarter area of town for the perfect dress; after wading through unpractical boutique after unpractical boutique; after trying on dresses with crystals sewn into their necklines and hems; after trying on linen blouses so thin I could see every dotted discoloration in Veronica’s skin; after slipping on beaded skirts that were so expensive they rivaled American used-car prices; after the disappointing spin through the hemp store, Veronica and I reached a hill that was too steep to climb.“If we go any farther, I’m going to require a tram,” I said.Veronica glared at the hill and then at the sun.“Global warming has definitely hit Eastern Europe,” she said. “Why are we climbing this hill anyway?”I puffed out air. I was out of breath. Veronica turned her back to the hill and stared at me, waiting for an answer.“Seven blocks ago you said you thought you could smell maple bars. You suspected it was coming from this direction. So here we are,” I said.“Yeah,” she said, wiping sweat off her forehead. “The sun is affecting my short-term memory. I did say that. But in all honesty, I lost the scent of the maple bars about four blocks back.”I wished the sun had been affecting my memory, both long and short term. I was plagued with issues.What did Hamilton mail me?When would it arrive?Was Waller going to kiss me?How come my father and I couldn’t connect?Would I have enough money to last me?Would Boz be waiting for Veronica when we got back? When should I call my mom again?If I came across Corky alone in a public bathroom, would she really stab me?“I think Boz just sent me an e-mail. I can feel it,” Veronica said. “We need to find a café.”I opened my guidebook and located an Internet café four blocks away. “What do you think Boz wrote to you about?” I asked.“Well,” Veronica said, slowing her pace to fall in step with me. “He’s probably providing me with information about Corky.”“Boz knows Corky?” Veronica shook her head. “Right before Corky and I got into that big fight because I’d borrowed her computer, I e-mailed Boz about her. I told him if he had any free time he should research her online. I said that she frightened me,” Veronica said. “You got in a big fight with Corky because you borrowed her computer?” I asked.“Sort of. That’s how I came across her blog. And also read all her e-mail,” Veronica said.This information fell out of her casually, like she was refreshing my memory. “Holy shit. You read all of Corky’s e-mail?” I asked. “You totally invaded her privacy. No wonder she hates you.”“Please,” Veronica said. “I did it out of self-preservation.” She stopped walking. “Hey. Is it just me or are you drawn to men with rifles?”“Like on television?” I asked.“No,” Veronica said. “Like hot Czech soldiers. Oh my god. They’re the same ones I saw yesterday. Follow me.”I looked ahead. I’d seen Czech soldiers standing guard beside the castle in their crisp blue suits and hats. But I didn’t think the guys we were walking toward were soldiers. I pulled on Veronica’s arm to stop her. I looked in her eyes to see if she was joking or possibly had grown delusional from sunstroke.“They’re not soldiers. They look like security guards, Veronica. I think they’re guarding that bank.”She stared back at me with perfectly lucid eyes. “Having a cool job only makes a hot-dude hotter,” Veronica said. There was no stopping her. She walked up to a guard with thick dark hair. Normally I thought she’d go for the blond. But the dark-haired one had amazing eyes and strong-looking lips. Had he not been armed and on duty, had be been six inches shorter, had he have been living in Parma, Ohio, I might have mistaken him for Boz. “It’s me again,” Veronica said.The hot-dude glanced down at her, but he didn’t say anything. His brown eyes were sexy, awesome, and powerful.“I know that you’re on duty and that you probably can’t talk to me. But I’m going to put my phone number in your pocket. We’re here for the month.” Veronica turned and gestured to me. “Call us.”He didn’t respond at all. I was mortified. This was beyond reckless. Then we started walking away.“I’m going to die,” I said. “Right here on this Prague sidewalk. You can’t give your number out to armed security people. What’s wrong with you?”“I can’t help myself. Something about this area of Prague makes me crave hot-dudes with an unbearable intensity.”I frowned at her in disappointment.Then the hot-dude responded. “What’s your name?” he called out in a thick accent.Veronica turned back around and smiled. “I’m Veronica.”I kept walking. I could not believe this.“How old are they?” I asked when Veronica caught up with me.“Twenty?” she said.“Either that guy has led a really hard life, or he’s thirty! Can’t we locate some guys who are still in their teens?” “Teens are babies. Seriously. Roger is the only hot-dude we’ve come across still in his teens. He’s a boring nineteen, the rest are twenty,” Veronica said. “And tragically, due to his aggressive politeness, I’m beginning to see him more as a brother figure than a hot-dude. I mean, he’s no challenge at all. I could crack him like a peanut.”“Hot-dudes can’t be nice?” I asked.We stopped in front of the Internet café. “My Boy Scout years are behind me,” she said.Veronica had never dated a Boy Scout. She skipped into the café and sat down at an open computer. I dragged a chair across the floor and joined her.“Maybe I should check my e-mail after this,” I said.Veronica didn’t respond.“My mom said that Hamilton called. It sounds like he wants to talk to me,” I said.There was a weird pause, which I didn’t know how to analyze. “The phones here are so unreliable,” Veronica said.“Yeah. My mom gave him the dorm address. He’s going to mail me something. But he might have sent me an e-mail too,” I said.I stood up when I saw a guy vacate a computer.“No! Don’t open another account. Save your money. You can use this one when I’m done,” Veronica said.I sat back down. Veronica pecked away. She was very focused. But when I tried to look over her shoulder, she hid the screen with her body.“Did Boz write you?” I asked.“No,” she said.“Then who did you just send an e-mail to?”“Somebody else,” Veronica said.“What are you reading now?” I asked.“Other e-mails,” Veronica said.I hated it went she acted ridiculously secretive.“Yeah. I know. Whose?” I asked.“Mine.”“Who sent them?”She sighed. “Right now I’m reading a couple from Gloria.”I stared at the back of Veronica’s brown head like I was glimpsing the ponytail of a lunatic. “Gloria Fitz?” I asked.“Yep.”“Why is she writing to you?”“Because I wrote to her.”“Why are you writing to Gloria?” I asked.“I don’t remember.”This made absolutely no sense. “Okay,” Veronica said. “I remember now. I wrote to her and apologized about the mall incident.”“You did?” I was stunned. This was so un-Veronica. “Why?”“Because I need her help. She’s keeping track of Boz for me while I’m gone.”I continued to gawk at the back of Veronica’s head. What was she thinking? “You can’t trust Gloria Fitz. She hates you.”“I know.”“Then why bother reading her e-mails?”“Listen, she’s been giving me useful information. Men are capable of anything. Zigging instead of zagging, in particular. While I’m here and he’s there, I need somebody to be a set of eyes for me.”“She’s spying on Boz for you?” I asked.Veronica turned around and looked at me. “First, keep your voice down. Second, I didn’t like the judgmental tone in that last question. I’m not perfect, Dessy. You know that I have gaping imperfections. Why start calling me out on them now? And she’s not spying so much as she’s attempting to thwart any additional doghouse construction and Celerie encounters. The exchange student ships out in two weeks, you know?” I felt ill. It’s one thing to have gaping imperfections, but it’s quite another to jeopardize the fate of your broken relationship by enlisting the help of a known enemy.“Veronica, I’m not judging you. I just worry that you might not have thought this through. Have you ever considered that Gloria might be giving you inaccurate information in an attempt to sink your relationship with Boz?”“I’m not brain damaged. Of course I think that,” Veronica said.“Then why trust her? Why take advice from somebody who actively wants to see you miserable?” I asked.Veronica turned back around and commenced typing. “Listen. I didn’t want to tell you this because I didn’t want to involve you, but I’m blackmailing Gloria. So there’s no way she’s got the nerve to screw me over on this completely.”“You’re joking. Please tell me you aren’t really blackmailing a fellow high school student in a stupid attempt to save a relationship that you wrecked!”Veronica turned around again, looking offended. “You don’t even like Gloria.”“She doesn’t deserve to be tormented,” I said.Veronica shrugged. “Sure she does.”I leaned back in the chair, and it moaned. “Don’t worry. I’ll sort this out when we get back to Ohio. Once things get normal again,” Veronica said.“Normal?” I asked.Things hadn’t really been “normal” for me and Veronica for years.“Sometimes I feel like our lives resemble a cheesy cable drama,” I said.Veronica used the mouse to emphatically click and close her account.“And what would you rather your life felt like?” she asked. “A PBS special? A medical documentary? A sports telecast?”I leaned back a bit more and didn’t answer her.“Our lives are pretty good,” she said.“I know,” I said. “It’s just that I find your whole plan with Gloria alarming.”Veronica sighed. “Maybe it is stupid. Maybe I am being unethical. But we all have things we need to work on, right?” she asked.I’d never told Veronica about my conversation with Hamilton and my three flaws. But right now it seemed like she was somehow able to read my mind.“One of the things that I love about you is your ability to look past my weaknesses. For me, I think a lot of my interpersonal relationships—Boz, my mother, most of my peers, et cetera—are negatively influenced by my controlling nature and inability to troubleshoot without employing various levels of manipulation. And it’s like you can totally see all that and you love me anyway.”Veronica was right. I did love her. And it was oddly reassuring to hear her speak with a fair amount of accurate introspection. She stood up, and I followed her out of the café. She turned and, not surprisingly, began walking back toward the vicinity of the hot-dudes with rifles. “Veronica, slow down. There’s something about my breakup with Hamilton that I never told you,” I said.I didn’t want to carry my flaws around with me anymore. If Veronica could come clean about her flaws, I should be able to air mine, to share with her the whole awful truth of everything that Hamilton had laid out against me. We walked in a hurry down the sidewalk, passing underneath the awnings of a series of outdoor cafés.“I thought there might have been more to that story,” Veronica said.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
I’d never heard the sound of gunfire before. I froze.“Get down! Get down!” Veronica screamed, yanking on my arm. “Don’t shoot me. I’m an Australian!”We both fell onto the hard walkway. My cheek was flat against the pavement. But everybody else kept moving. Legs and feet dodged my body. I couldn’t believe that people could be this unaffected by open gunfire in the middle of the day!“We should get up,” Veronica said.“Is it safe?” I asked.“Yeah,” she said. “Look over there.”I did. But I didn’t see anything dangerous or criminal.“It was a motorcycle,” she said. “It backfired.”I quickly made it to my feet. “Oh my god. I feel like such a fool.”“I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.” Veronica dusted off her jeans and motioned with her head for us to cross the street. “Veronica!” a voice called.I looked around. Oh my god. It was the armed hot-dude. “Are you hurt?” he asked, walking toward us. “I saw you fall.”Veronica shook her head. “I was hoping to see you again. Here.” He handed her a small piece of paper, and the two of them stood there smiling at each other like love-struck baboons.Veronica finally looked at the note, then refolded it. “I’ll call you,” she said.“Good,” he said. “It’s Alexej.” I wanted to rip his note out of her hand and eat it. Alexej didn’t stay long. He quickly jogged back to his post in front of the bank.“He is way too old, Veronica.”She had a big stupid grin on her face. “He’s perfect.”“And he’s not very responsible. Did you see how he just abandoned that bank for no reason?”“He was worried about me. He saw me on the ground, and like a prince, he came to my rescue.”“You were on the sidewalk for a couple of seconds. We weren’t in any danger.”She turned to me and grabbed my arms. “But Alexej didn’t know that.”Veronica then proceeded to skip into the crosswalk. She also began to sing.“What is that song?” I asked. I couldn’t quite place it. “Is it country?”“It’s my own song. I’m making it up as I go along. It’s about my new, number one hot-dude.“Melt me, melt me, melt me,” she sang. “In the street. In the sky. In a big banana pie.” The words grew crazier, and the melody more bizarre. This was so stupid. She needed to drop her hot-dudes. Relationships weren’t
that
difficult. If she liked Boz, she should tell Boz. If she cared about him at all, she should stop mangling his heart. “
Melt me, melt me, melt me
.” I listened in disbelief as Veronica sang her inane hot-dude song, over and over, all the way home.