Vintage Veronica (22 page)

ithout even catching my breath, I go straight to my desk to check on Violet. The boot box seems to be in the same spot, and my heart races as I lift the lid. I am greeted by the sight of one black pebbly paw with five long black claws extending from the pajama sleeve. It’s almost like she’s waving hello.

I feel hugely relieved to see that Violet’s still there, though I want to make sure she’s breathing. Gently, I inch the fabric back and her elongated head appears. Her shiny eyes meet mine and her pale indigo tongue darts out. I extend one finger and touch her lightly on the back of her head, between her eyes. I think she likes that, though it’s hard to say for sure. She doesn’t exactly purr or anything.

For about half a minute I’m so focused on Violet that I don’t think about what I just saw. But then it all comes rushing back.
What the hell is going on?
Was Bill actually telling the truth about him and Ginger? Are they really “an item,” as he so proudly put it? How could that possibly be? She’s so cool and stylish and everything, and Bill’s, well, Bill.

Plus, if they are together, how could Zoe not know?

Jesus
. First finding out that Len has been lying to me, and now this.

How can the world be so fucking upside down?

About five, maybe ten minutes later, Ginger appears on Employees Only! Not counting the stairwell incident, this is the first time I’ve ever seen her without Zoe. She looks a bit like a baby giraffe. Or like Bambi when he first learns to walk. All gawky and splay-legged.

But beautiful. Surprisingly so. There’s something about Zoe that just erases everything around her. So much so that I never quite noticed that Ginger is kind of a Pretty Girl. With incredibly fried blue-and-pink-streaked hair the texture of straw, of course, but pretty nonetheless.

“Hey,” she says guiltily when she sees me.

“Hey,” I reply, waiting.

“Look, what do you want?” she asks.

“I … what?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” she says. “You can’t tell Zoe. Got it?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“So, what.”

“What?”

Ginger rolls her eyes. “What do you want?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Want for what?”

“Jesus, dumb-ass. For keeping your mouth shut, okay? Name it.”

“It’s okay.”

“What’s okay?”

“I don’t want anything. I won’t tell.”

“Sure.”

“Seriously, I won’t.”

“Yeah? How do I know?”

“I don’t know. You don’t, I guess. But I won’t, really.” I think about what Bill said. “I just … I’m not like that,” I tell her.

She makes a sort of rueful noise. “Everyone’s like that,” she says.

I shrug. “Not me.”

She fiddles with the dangling bugle beads on the flag dress, her favorite. I gather up my things, hoping she’ll take the hint and leave first. I’m not planning on taking Violet home any time soon, yet I’m afraid to walk out and leave her until Ginger is gone.

But Ginger doesn’t seem to want to leave either.

“Hey, how’d it go with The Nutbuster?” she finally asks.

“Um, okay.”

“Did you get fired?”

“Not exactly.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I can’t resist telling her. “Actually, she kind of tried to promote me. I think.”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

I kind of shrug.

“For real?” she says.

“Um, yeah, I think so,” I say.

“That’s totally great,” she says, without enthusiasm. “Really great.”

“I said no.”

“What? Why?”

I really, really don’t want to tell her why, because I know that once she knows, things will change between us. But things have already changed between us. I have a nasty throbbing on one side of my head and I almost feel like what I saw in the stairwell was a dream or something.

Today has been beyond surreal—and getting stoned with Bill was the least of it. All of a sudden, the curtain is pulled back and nothing is what it seems: Len is a liar, Bill and Ginger are having a secret affair. And there I am, too, I guess: the employee Shirley sees as a regular grown-up professional-type person is actually a dumb little kid who screws up everything she touches.

So, basically, it’s not so much that I decide to tell Ginger as it is that I pass out from the exhaustion of not telling her.

“Because … I’m in high school,” I say.

“Get out.”

“Seriously.”

“No way, really? I thought they didn’t hire high school kids.”

“They do if they don’t know it.”

“Holy shit. Vee!” Ginger looks impressed. “How old
are
you?”

“Sixteen. Well, almost sixteen.” Close enough.

“No way! Shit, you look, wow, older. I figured you were maybe younger than me, but I was thinking you were at least seventeen. Zoe was sure you were nineteen, like us.” She laughs and shakes her head.

“Yeah, whatever. The thing is …,” I start to say.

“You should fucking do it.”

“What?”

“You should totally take the job. Shit, you can come here after school, right?”

“Yeah, but I dunno …”

“What don’t you know? You’re good at this stuff. I mean, look at the amazing outfits you put together. Plus, you’re a great drawer. I mean, you’re totally artistic.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, whatever.”

Ginger looks pissed. “It’s NOT ‘whatever.’ My whole life, people have told me all the things I can’t do, all the things I suck at, what a loser I am. Even now, if Zoe found out about me and Bill? She’d laugh her ass off.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” I say, even though I know she’s right.

“Tell the truth,” she suddenly demands. “You’re his friend, but he totally skeeves you, right?”

For a second, I think she’s talking about Len. I hold my breath, wondering if I should tell her the truth:
Yes, he did used to skeeve me, totally, but then I got to know him better, and now, well …

But then I realize she’s asking about Bill.

“No,” I tell her. “Bill’s a good guy. I mean, he’s kind of a stoner, but I guess you already know that.”

“Yeah,” she says coyly, smiling to herself. “He didn’t really give me crabs, you know. Zoe made all that shit up.”

“What’s her problem?” I ask.

“I dunno. She used to just ignore him. But then, when she found out I liked him, she decided he was the King of the Freaks. She’s like that with every guy I hook up with.” She gives me a pointed look. “Wait and see. She’s totally gonna do it to you, too.”

“Okay, but see, there’s nothing going on with me and Lenny. I mean, not anymore. Seriously.”

“Sure, whatever you say,” says Ginger, smirking.

“Honestly. I swear.”

“Wanna know a secret?” asks Ginger.

“Okay.”

“Promise you won’t say anything?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Ginger hesitates. “I actually know Lenny pretty well. He used to hang out at my house a lot when we were kids.”

“You … what?”

Ginger glares and points her finger at me. “You promised!”

“Yeah, but …”

“We went to the same elementary school. He was in my little brother Matt’s class. They were friends.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever been to his house?”

“Yeah, once. A long time ago, back when he lived with his grandma over on Dorset Avenue. Before his mom … do you know about his mom?”

“What, that she’s dead?”

Ginger’s eyes widen. “Get out. Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I think so. In the car accident?”

“What car accident?”

“The one where he hurt his leg … you know, the reason he walks like that?”

Ginger looks at me suspiciously. “Who told you that?”

“Why?”

“Because that’s bullshit. Lenny fell off the monkey bars and broke his leg in second grade. When they did the X-ray, they found this big-ass tumor on the bone. He was in the hospital, like, a million times. I know because my mom’s a nurse. She used to sneak Matt in to go see him. That’s why he walks that way.”

“Oh.” I feel more confused than ever. “I thought he was in a car accident. With his mom.”

“Nope. Did he say that?” She shakes her head in disbelief. “His mom was never really around much. When he was in the hospital, she showed up drunk a couple of times, so they called social services. And then she just took off. I don’t know what the story was, but he changed schools. We never saw him after that. Until he started working at the store.”

“So you knew about his pets? And … the snake?”

“I knew he was into reptiles, but I didn’t realize that your snake was his snake until later. Honest.” She looks genuinely apologetic.

“What about Zoe? Does she know about any of this?”

Ginger laughs and shakes her head. “Please! I can’t even
believe I’m telling you. You have enough dirt on me as it is. If you tell Zoe any of this, I will seriously have to kill you.”

“I told you, I’m not going to.”

“Okay, okay. Just checking.” Ginger boosts herself up to sit on my desk and starts rummaging through her giant purse. She pulls out a mirrored compact and reapplies her lipstick. Next, she digs out a handful of tiny baby barrettes and clips them randomly into sections of hair around her temples. Then, finding a nail file, she drops the bag to the floor, crosses her legs, and starts filing.

All of a sudden I have an idea.

“Look, Ginger? There is, actually, something you could do. Do you think you can maybe talk to Zoe about calling off this whole Secret Spy Girl thing? I mean, this whole theory she has about Lenny stealing clothes is completely insane. There’s nothing going on like that at all, really.”

Ginger nibbles on a fingernail, scrutinizes it, and then drops the file back in her bag. She hops off my desk.

“Yeah, I have no doubt, Vee,” she says, sighing and zipping her purse. “I mean, I totally believe you, okay? Really. But the thing is, there’s nothing I can do. Once Zoe thinks she knows something, it’s pretty much impossible to get her off it.”

“Yeah, but all you’d have to do is tell her you think there’s nothing to it.”

“Yeah, no. Sorry,” says Ginger, looking extremely unsorry.

“Great,” I say.

Ginger looks at me and laughs. “Oh, come on. It’ll be okay. She’ll lose interest. Eventually. She always does.”

“Eventually is not good enough,” I tell her. “I’ve got to get her to lay off this. I mean, what if
I
say something? You’ll back me up, right?”

“Yeah, bad idea,” says Ginger, talking slow like I’m five years old. “I’m telling you this for your own good. If you want to be dumb, be dumb. Tell Zoe whatever the fuck you want. But remember this: Zoe likes you, okay? You’re lucky. If you want to fuck that up, be my guest. But don’t go dragging me into it.”

“Fuck
what
up?” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Excuse me?” Ginger’s voice is testy.

I know I should stop, but I don’t. “How can you stand it? I mean, she’s supposed to be your best friend and you can’t even tell her you have a boyfriend?”

“It’s not like that,” says Ginger angrily. “What you don’t seem to get is that sometimes I
choose
to keep some things to myself so I don’t have to listen to Zoe’s shit.”

“Yeah, but—” I start to say.

“But what, Vee?” says Ginger. “Admit it: whatever you and Lenny have been up to, you’ve been keeping it from Zoe for the same damned reasons. You want to have it both ways, too.”

“Bullshit,” I tell her, but she knows she’s got me.

“The good thing about Zoe is, you always know what’s what. Sure, she can be a pain in the ass, but at least she doesn’t feed you some line of bullshit to get you to feel sorry for her or something. Like some people.”

Meaning Len
, I realize. Jesus, maybe she’s right.

“Look,” says Ginger softly. “It’s simple. I’d rather be the
one having fun and laughing it up than be the one being laughed at. I’ve already been that girl, okay? I’ll be damned if I’m going back.”

Her eyes are wide, eyebrows arched. She looks angry. Or maybe, possibly … Yeah, she looks scared.

“I’ve been that girl, too,” I admit.

“So you know how it is,” says Ginger pointedly.

And I nod, because I do.

Or at least, up until now I thought I did.

Now I’m not so sure.

Just then, the boot box jumps.

“Holy shit,” says Ginger, startled. “What the … ?”

“It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s just Violet.”

“Who’s Violet?” she asks nervously.

I slide the box over and pause with my hands on top. “If I show you, you’ve got to promise not to tell Zoe.”

Ginger nods, eyes wide.

Slowly, I lift the lid.