Part 31 (2/2)
”Who's Edgar Abbott?” I asked.
”He's on the football team. I think he may be a quarterback. Or a halfback.”
”It's all jock to me,” I said.
”He smelled surprisingly good,” she mused.
-1- ”Don't let Caleb hear you,” I warned her.
0-
1-
1 8 6.
105-54406_ch01_1P.indd 186 105-54406_ch01_1P.indd 186 4/17/13 8:58 PM.
4/17/13 8:58 PM.
”Caleb could crush Edgar Abbott. Not that he would. Caleb's a pacifi st. Next year he's thinking about joining the peace corps,”
Becca said wistfully. ”I might join him.”
”Say what? Is this your cancer brain talking?” I walked over to her and spoke loudly into her ear. ”Becca, are you in there? This per- son says she wants to join the peace corps.”
Becca shoved me with a frail hand. ”I didn't say it was defi nite, but he got me thinking. The cancer got me thinking, too. If I live, maybe I should do something more important with my life than pre- tending to be someone else for loads of money.”
”(A) You mean when you survive, and (B) there is nothing more important than starring in one of my horror masterpieces. It's on your f.u.c.k- It List, remember? I didn't see anything about saving other people's lives.”
”Your capacity for empathy never ceases to amaze me.”
I knew Becca was joking, making fun of me for sounding callous.
But part of me knew she was absolutely right. The one thing I rarely expressed was empathy.
Which brought me back to Leo.
”I was thinking of inviting Leo to Dead of Winter Con. Well, maybe not inviting him, but seeing if he was going.”
”I think that would be a fi ne idea.” Becca pursed her lips, hold- ing in words she didn't think she could say.
”What?” I demanded.
”Nothing. I said I thought it was a fi ne idea, and I do. You should do it right now.”
”Like, right now?” I asked as though it were Becca's decision.
”I'm not getting any younger.”
--1 -0 -+1 1 87.
105-54406_ch01_1P.indd 187 105-54406_ch01_1P.indd 187 4/17/13 8:58 PM.
4/17/13 8:58 PM.
”I can tell. You're starting to talk like an old broad.”
”This old broad says you need to call him ASAP. My bunions are killing me.”
”Would you settle for a text, Madame Bunions?”
”Only if I get to read it.”
”I'll get your bifocals.”
I stared at my phone for a minute before I concocted this brilliant work of art: Hi. R u going to Dead of Winter Con? If so, I'll c u there. This is Alex, btw.
I stupidly hit send before I showed it to Becca, and when she read it afterward she berated me for it.
”Really? You haven't talked with the guy in months- after you had s.e.x with him AND his brother died AND he loves you, and that's your reconciliation text?”
”I texted him another time, too.” I shrugged. ”I didn't think it was so bad.”
”You could have at least asked him how he was doing.”
”That was implied,” I explained.
”I fail to see where that implication was.”
”Now I'm on CSI? I said hi. No one ever bothers with that in a text.”
<script>