Secrets and Lies (5 page)

Goth Girl snorts, watching the embarrassment visibly spreading across my face, like fire on a dried out Christmas tree. “Fuck it.” I toss down my silverware.

“That’s what he said,” Josh jokes, before putting his hand over mine. “Come on, there’s no way it was that bad.”

Carter’s eyes are on the side of my face, reassessing what he thinks of me based on this new information. No wonder Beth wants to kill her brothers. I elbow Josh in the ribs and try to stand up.

“Rebound guy,” I explain to the table of strangers. Oh, my God! I want to drag Josh outside and let the oddly large collection of campus cats eat his face off. “This one told me it’s the fastest way to mend a broken heart.” I jab my thumb at him.

“No one thinks you’re a slut, Kerry.” Josh offers. “That’d be shallow. They don’t even know you.”

What the hell is he doing? “No, they don’t—at least they didn’t. So, thanks for sharing my messed up love life with a group of strangers. Appreciate it.” My tone is getting sharper and sharper, because the wounds are still too new. It might be funny in a month, or a year, but not right now.

Goth Girl kicks Josh under the table. “Stop being a dick, Josh.”

Josh makes a face. “I am not a dick, Emily. She didn’t know any of you—well, except for him, and let’s face it, he’s Carter—there’s not much to know.” Carter presses his lips together like he wants to kill Josh, but he doesn’t say anything. “Now you guys like her and it’s all because of me.” He smiles his flashy, pretty-boy grin, and jumps up. “Catch you later, surrogate little sister.”

When he leaves, I slam my head on the table. “Oh shit, he adopted me.”

“He likes you,” Carter says tightly.

Emily taps the table in front of Carter. “No, he doesn’t. He’s doing the same shit to her that he does to his little sister, Beth.” Emily makes a face at him and then chugs her container of milk.

Carter scowls at her and I realize there’s more story here that I don’t know. Lifting my face a little more, I ask, “You guys know him?”

No one answers. Finally, Emily rolls her eyes and huffs. “Yeah, we know him. Carter and Josh used to be best friends.”

“What happened?” I ask. Normally, I wouldn’t have, but they all know a crapload of stuff about me and I still know very little about them.

“We’re not friends anymore.” Carter gets up without looking at me, collects his food and walks off.

The table is too quiet and I just lost my only connection to this group of people. An uneasy swirling in my stomach leads me to say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

Emily offers a half smile. “It’s not you. Josh stole Carter’s girlfriend. They cheated for a while without telling him. It wasn’t pretty when Carter found out. No one talks about it, so whenever Josh is around, that’s the elephant in the room no one will acknowledge. So, New Girl, what’s your next class?”

“Uh, Art History III.” The table looks at me weird, so I shrug. “I’m kind of an art nerd.”

CHAPTER 7

Walking to the grocery store is getting old. I took the bus to the mall. It was an adventure I have no desire to repeat any time soon. The driver seemed to have stepped directly out of a zombie flick. We’re lucky we didn’t all die on the way over here. Now, I’m stranded at the mall, camped out in a little café with my laptop, scouring Craigslist for a cheap car.

“Hey Kerry!” I look up to see Beth across the hallway, waving at me. I smirk and wave back. She runs over and takes the seat across from me. Beth has a lot more money than I do and the shopping bags to prove it. “What are you doing?”

“Shopping for a car.”

“You don’t need a car.” I glance up at her and give her an expression that says she’s nuts. “I meant, you don’t need your own car. You can borrow my stylish soccer mom car whenever you want.”

I’m touched; I really am, especially since she has a nice new car. But I can’t be a leech like that. “Thanks, Beth, but I think I need my own set of wheels. I need a job.” I at least need a temporary job—and before next Tuesday night, so I don’t have to be the damned figure-drawing model. How stupid am I? I didn’t think professors did things like that to students, but what do I know?

“Oh,” she scoots around and looks over the screen with me. “What about that one?”

“It’s too much money. It has to be under a thousand.”

Beth gives me a smile. “It is under a hundred thousand.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” I look up and can tell from the look on Beth’s face she isn’t joking. “I meant under a grand. I only have a couple thousand bucks in the bank and it has to last me until the end of the semester.”

Beth’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. “Are you serious?” I nod. “Your parents aren’t going to send you more money?”

A bitter laugh jumps out before I can stop it. “Uh, no. They’re not like that. It’s okay, Beth. I can handle this as long as I can find something that runs. This one looks good. It just popped up.” The ad says it’s for an old VW Bus. I smile at the screen. I’ve always thought those were cool in a hippie sort of way. I could paint big flowers on the sides and get a fuzzy steering wheel cover.

Beth nods slowly. “It gets good gas mileage, too. Well, good for a van.” I give her a strange look, not expecting a rich girl to know crap about cars. “I know stuff,” she says, offended.

Smiling at her, I nod. “I see that. Do you know how to change a flat?”

She offers a sharp smile and nods. “Do you know how to change the oil?”

“Touché,” I laugh. “I won’t make rich girl assumptions anymore.”

“I’m not rich.” Beth is leaning in close to the computer screen when she says it, trying to read the listing.

“Where are your glasses?” It’s just a hunch, but I’ve noticed she holds everything up to her nose to read, so it’s kind of obvious by now.

She backs up and smiles sheepishly at me. “In my room.”

“Why aren’t they on your face?”

“Oh, God, you sound like my mother. They’re stupid, that’s why. I can’t wear contacts and the glasses are Coke bottles. I look like a lunatic with them on.”

“You look kind of crazy trying to make out with my laptop. The glasses can’t be that bad.” She sneers at me. “Oh, come on.”

“Fine, if you can actually look at them and tell me that with a straight face, I’ll wear them.”

She’s made this bet before. I can tell from her smug expression and tiny smile. “Deal, and you’re wearing them when you’re driving.”

“I don’t need them for driving.”

“How do you read the signs?”

She laughs. “Yeah, I don’t read signs.” No kidding. This explains her mad driving skills. I bet she can barely see the lines on the road.

“I noticed.” I glance at her, and send the guy who owns the van a message. Beth and I chat for a few more moments. While we chat, the van owner responds with a list of recent repairs, including new tires and a new starter. There’s a picture of it in a grassy lot, flanked by several other vehicles. It looks rust-free. Score. “I’m going to call him. Will you drive me to pick it up, if I buy it?”

“Psh, like you have to ask?” She leans in close to the screen while I walk away with the phone next to my ear.

It rings forever and someone finally picks up. “Hello?” A guy says in broken English.

“Hi. I just messaged you about the VW Bus. Listen, I know you were asking $1500, but is there any way you’ll wiggle on the price?” My heart is racing. I want this van. I can already picture myself in it. I’m going to get little pink curtains for the back windows. It’s going to be bitchin’!

“Wag gul?” he asks like he doesn’t understand.

“Yes, will you take $1000? That’s all I have.”

“You no do $1500?”

“No, I can’t. I only have one thousand.”

“I do PayPal for that price. You pick up today?”

I try not to squeal. “Yes. Sounds great.”

“Ok. I send you invoice. You pay and pick up by 5. Bus is yours. I no sell to no one else.”

I hang up and skip back to the table, completely and totally excited. This is the best thing that’s happened to me since I came down here.

CHAPTER 8

This is the worst thing that’s happened to me since I came down here. WTF? He can’t be serious. I circle the vehicle I bought with Beth gaping behind me. My arms are folded across my chest and I’m ready to have an aneurism. I point at the thing in front of me, and repeat, “I did not buy this. I bought that.” I point to the VW Bus parked on the grass next to it.

The little Asian man shakes his head and points at the papers from PayPal. “No, you buy bus. This is bus. Right here.” He slaps the sides of the vehicle and nods way too much. Yes, it’s a bus all right. Apparently, I bought a bus. No, not a VW bus, but an actual little yellow school bus that’s three decades old, burnt out on the inside, and with a generous heaping of rust on the outside.

“No, I bought that! I called. I said I wanted it, and you said you’d take a thousand bucks for it.” I’m whine-yelling at the man, but he still smiles at me.

“Yes, you buy bus.” He pats the yellow beast again and gives me a thumbs up.

“No, not that one. That one.” I gesture toward the van and point excessively, jabbing the air with my finger. “I bought that one.”

His dark eyes are kind and he just stands there smiling. “You buy bus. Nice bus. Run good.”

I slap my palms to my face and try not to scream. Seriously. I’ve been at this forever and I’m not getting anywhere. I turn to Beth and say, “Please help.”

She steps daintily through the gravel and mud towards us, holding up the hem of her trademark hippie skirt. “Uh, sir, Mr. Nice Man, she wants that one.” Beth walks over to him and then actually crosses to the van and taps it. “This one.”

I glance at the guy, hopeful that he understands, and he does because his smile widens. “You want van?”

“Yes!”

He nods and says, “Fifteen hundred dollar.”

My face falls. “But you said I could have it for a thousand.”

“No, bus cheaper. Van fifteen hundred dollar.” He leans forward, nodding over and over again. The man is shorter than me and if I had the slightest inclination that he was screwing with me, I’d run him over with his yellow bus. The thing is, I don’t think he is. He’s been smiling and nodding at other people, and several of the girls in my hallway said he’s a great guy with cheap cars. No one mentioned a goddamn bus.

I groan and look over at Beth, before telling the guy, “I guess I need to cancel my payment. I don’t want a bus.”

“Yes, you buy bus. It nice.” He pats the side again.

“No, I didn’t want that.” I point at the thing and shake my head. “I need to cancel the transaction.”

“No cancel. Bus. You want bus, bus is here. Bus!”

“Beth, kill me. Please.”

She tries again. “She doesn’t want that one. She wants the other one.”

“Yes, extra money.”

“No!” I yell and my tiny voice suddenly sounds very loud as it travels through the yard. The few other people looking at old cars look my way. “No extra money.”

The man shakes his head and looks at Beth and then back at me. “What she want?” Beth points to the van and he lights up again. “Fifteen hundred dollar.”

“Uh,” Beth interjects, “why don’t I just spot you the difference. You can pay me back.”

“Because I don’t have an extra $500, and I’ll never pay you back.”

She shrugs and looks at the ground. Following her gaze, I notice that her pretty Chinese slippers are covered in mud. “I know that,” she says. “I was being nice.”

It must be nice to have money and kick it around like it doesn’t matter, but I’m not a leech. “Thanks, but no. I have to do this on my own.”

“You realize what you’re saying, right?”

Looking up at the yellow bus, I nod. “Fuck, yeah. I’m going to be the girl who drives around in a burnt-out school bus. Score.”

CHAPTER 9

I drive the bus back to the dorm and have issues finding a place to park. I head over by the lot where the school has their nice shiny new buses and park it there. No one will notice, right? As I climb down the steps, a guy in a uniform comes over. “You can’t park that here.”

“Why not? It’s a school bus.” He gives me a look that says to get the bus off his lot. “Fine.”

I march back up the stairs and drive it back around campus to my dorm. I bet they make me buy three parking permits because that’s how many parking slots I need. After waiting for well over two hours, three slots open up and I manage to pull the thing in.

Just as I pull the key out of the ignition, I hear a noise. It sounds weird, and it’s not a mechanical machine sound. It’s more like a nail on metal. I walk past the rows of seats and the disgustingly dirty windows. There is so much trash in back that it’s revolting.

My foot connects with an old Coke can and sends it skittering to the back of the van. It collides with the wall and something stirs. The hairs on my arms prickle just before the wild screech hits my ears and a seriously pissed off raccoon jumps up from the pile of junk on the floor. It claws up to the top of the seatback and hisses at me, its body in a pissed off cat stance, complete with arched back.

Screaming like a lunatic, I run away, leaving the keys in the ignition, and sprint straight up the stairs into the dorm. When I make it to the third floor, I fall out of the stairwell and gasp at the window, looking down at my bus below.

I’m close to crying. I spent all my money on a rotten bus with a rabid raccoon in the back. My bottom lip is quivering when Emily steps up next to me. She leans in before I realize she’s there and says, “What are we looking at?” I scream at the top of my lungs and she screams back as my heart explodes, and then she adds, “Well, that was fun. What the hell is wrong with you?” She’s laughing at me and looking out the window.

Clutching my heart, I stutter, “Don’t do that!”

Emily plays with the leather strap around her neck and rolls her eyes. I can’t tell if she likes me or if she thinks I’m mental. “You look a little freaked.”

“I am!” It all gushes out before I can stop. “Nothing is going the way it should be! It’s not just the modeling thing, it’s everything! My boyfriend dumped me, Josh told you guys I’m a whore, my roommate is a bitch, a really hot guy walked out on me last night, and to top things off I bought a bus with a fucking raccoon in the back.” I try to shut up and mash my lips together, but they quiver. “I didn’t know he was back there. I kicked a can and it must have hit him, because he jumped at me with his little paws and…” I’m holding up my hands up like they’re paws and a smile cracks across my face because I look ridiculous and it sounds really funny. Well, it would be if it happened to someone else. I laugh once, and drop my hands and look out the window. “See that piece of shit?”