Authors: Melinda Metz - Fingerprints - 2
Tags: #Fantasy, #Mystery, #Young Adult, #Science Fiction
When Rae stepped through the door, she felt like she’d entered another universe. Or at least another house. The
walls were painted bright white, and the small room was empty except for a long table that had photo equipment in
one corner and some kind of machine-Rae figured it was a laminating machine-in the center.
“All right,” the chicken man said. “Money first. Fifty bucks a pop.”
“I heard it was twenty-five,” Anthony answered.
Rae’s eyes widened. He’d said in the car that he didn’t know how much the chicken man charged.
“You sure you didn’t hear it was thirty?” the guy challenged.
“Yeah. Maybe that was it.” Anthony grinned, they all forked over their money, and the chicken man picked up his
camera.
He’s slick, Rae thought. If Marcus were here, he’d have just handed the guy the money without saying a word. Of
course, Marcus wouldn’t have even been there in the first place. He’d probably have turned around the second he
saw the chickens.
God, why did she keep thinking about Marcus? “Okay, who’s first?” the chicken man asked.
“Anthony, you go,” Yana instructed. “Rae and I need to glam up. I want to put some more makeup on that baby
face of hers so she’ll look a little older.”
“Good idea,” Anthony said.
Rae felt herself blush. She never wanted to hear the expression baby face again. Yeah, she didn’t look as sexy as
Yana with all her earrings and her tattoo.
But she wasn’t a chipmunk head, either.
“Is it okay if we use your bathroom?” Yana asked the chicken man.
“Straight through the door,” he answered. “Everything in this place is straight through the door. The rooms are all
in a row. It’s a pain in the butt.”
Yana grabbed Rae’s hand and tugged her across the room. “We’ll be back in a minute,” she said. Then she pulled
Rae into the bathroom and shut the door behind them. The bathroom didn’t have anything too freaky in it-except for
the porcelain frog toilet brush holder, but that was more cheesy than freaky.
“Should we change into our other clothes first?”
Rae asked. “We could go grab them out of the car.”
“Uh-uh.” Yana shook her head. “It would look weird if our IDs have the same clothes we’re wearing. How often
would that happen, right?”
“Right,” Rae agreed. She never would have thought of that on her own. Even though she didn’t have a baby face,
she felt like she had kind of a baby brain, at least compared to Yana and Anthony. Yeah, she’d made it through a
summer at the funny farm and was doing okay being gifted, but when it came to fake IDs and the like… clueless.
Yana yanked open her massive purse and studied the contents for a moment. “I think this is the lipstick for you.
Baby got mouth. And you should make sure everybody sees it.”
“I have put on makeup before, you know,” Rae snapped, but she took the lipstick out of Yana’s hand, glad her
layer of Mush kept her from getting any thoughts. It wasn’t cool to peek into someone’s head, even if they didn’t
know she was peeking. At least except when she had to, like to find out if Jesse’s dad knew anything about where
he was.
“Don’t get all bent,” Yana said. “I like the makeup you usually wear. It’s just kind of quiet for a bar.”
“Yeah, which is why I wear it that way for school, ” Rae answered. “You’ve never seen what I wear when I’m going
out.”
“Okay, okay,” Yana muttered as Rae put on a coat of the dark bruised-cherry-colored lipstick. And she didn’t say a
word as Rae started making up her eyes using her favorite going-out liner, a silver one that went on all cool and
slick and made her eyes look even bluer.
She tried to remember the last time she’d worn the liner, the last time she’d even gone out. It was the party at
Robert Mandon’s, she realized. Lea had come over to her place first, and they’d gotten ready together. Rae’d wanted
to look amazing for Marcus, and she’d tried on so many outfits and so many different makeup combos that Lea had
finally threatened to leave without her.
But I guess it worked, Rae thought, using a stick foundation on her forehead, nose, and chin to smooth out her
skin tone. That night she and Marcus had gone farther than they ever had before. If they’d been alone-without
people banging on the door every few seconds-well, things might have gotten pretty intense.
At least that hadn’t happened. If she’d gone for it with Marcus and then he’d dumped her for Dori-tears started to
sting Rae’s eyes just thinking about it.
“Hey, are you all right?” Yana asked as she finished applying a pair of fake eyelashes studded with little
rhinestones.
“Yeah,” Rae told her. “Just got a little makeup in my eyes.” No more thinking about Marcus, she ordered herself.
Yana dug around in her purse again and pulled out a container of glittery powder and another makeup brush. She
dipped the brush in the powder and lightly ran it over Rae’s curly hair. “Now you have sparkle highlights,” she said.
“This stuff looks weird in my hair. It doesn’t go good on the bleach job.” She spread some across her cheeks,
giving herself a glow.
“You ready?”
Rae nodded, and they headed back into the ID making room. “Took you long enough,” Anthony mumbled. His
eyes lingered on her face for a second, and then he quickly glanced away, tinges of red on his cheeks.
“Stand over there in front of that piece of blue curtain,” the chicken man told Rae. As soon as she did, he snapped
her picture, then motioned for Yana to take her place. “I’ll make you both nineteen. No use pressing your luck. You
want to use your own names?”
“Sure,” Yana answered. “Then we won’t mess up.”
“Give me some old ID so I have something to work off of,” the chicken man said. Yana handed over her driver’s
license. Rae gave him an expired gym card.
He headed over to the table without another word and started working, his motions sure and economical.
When he handed her and Yana the fake IDs, still warm from being laminated, Rae reminded herself to toss her card
before they got back to Atlanta. It wasn’t something she ever wanted her dad to see.
He’d end up in the hospital if he did.
“Don’t get in any trouble tonight,” the chicken man told them. “No drinking and driving. Your spirits would come
after me for sure.”
“You don’t really believe in that crap, do you?”
Yana asked.
The chicken man smiled. “Mostly no, sometimes yes.”
“And those chickens in front. You don’t really-”
Rae began.
“Don’t worry, baby,” the chicken man interrupted. “Just for show.”
Baby again. Rae rolled her eyes.
“We’ve got to get going,” Anthony said. “Thanks for the discount,” he told the chicken man.
“Just the regular price, dude,” he answered, laughing. He led them back through the freaky room and gave them a
half salute as they headed out the door.
“So where exactly is this Hurricanes place?” Yana asked when they were all back in the car.
“I found it on the map. It’s not that far. Over on Bourbon Street,” Anthony answered, concentrating on extricating
the Hyundai from the parking place.
“Come on, Rae. We have to get changed.” Yana patted the spot next to her.
In the car? Rae almost asked. But she didn’t. It would probably just get Yana and Anthony laughing at her again.
She wiggled her way into the backseat as Anthony did a Y turn and headed out of the chicken man’s neighborhood.
“I borrowed one of your bras, too,” Yana told Rae. “With that sheer shirt I borrowed, it’s all about the bra.”
“That’s cool,” Rae answered. She pulled her arms inside her T-shirt, then pulled her head inside, too. It was like
being in a tiny tent. Then she struggled to get into her sequined halter top without giving anybody in another car-or
Anthony-a show. Changing from her jeans to her favorite BCBG black pants was easier since the lower half of her
body was pretty much hidden. She jammed on her silver ankle boots, with their skinny high heels, and she was
finished.
“Done,” Yana said a second later.
“Just in time,” Anthony told them. “Hurricanes is right up the street.” He inched his way into another barely-there
parking spot.
“I love this place,” Yana yelled as they crossed the street. She had to yell because there was a different kind of
music coming out of every bar, plus some boom boxes on the sidewalk. When they hit the sidewalk, they had to
weave through a crowd of people-obvious tourists, college students, suits-watching some kids break dancing.
Then almost immediately they had to get through another crowd surrounding a guy who was doing some kind of
extreme juggling act with hatchets. Finally they managed to get into the short line leading into Hurricanes.
Rae pulled her ID out of her purse, hesitated, then stuffed it into the front pocket of her pants. She shouldn’t have it
out, like she was expecting to get carded.
Yana gave her a nudge, and she moved up a step.
Then another. And she was in front of the bouncer, a big, buff guy who looked like he should have his own
exercise video.
“I need to see some ID,” he said. Rae had it out of her pocket and into his hand in a second. The bouncer flicked
his gaze over the ID. Then back up at her.
“The chicken man does good work. But there’s no way you’re nineteen.”
Anthony slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door. “Crap,” he muttered.
Rae got in the shotgun seat, and Yana took her usual place in back, filling up the car with their girlie smells-hair
stuff and makeup, some kind of musky perfume from Yana, and that clean, grapefruit scent that Rae always wore. It
still seemed strange that someone would choose to smell like a grapefruit, but he had to admit, on Rae it worked.
Like it warmed up when it combined with her skin and got kind of… sexy.
“Sorry, guys,” Rae mumbled.
“It’s not your fault,” Anthony said, staring straight ahead at the car parked in front of them. It was too weird looking
at Rae in that top, which, whether she knew it or not, was designed to get a guy to stare at her breasts. With her
back bare, it was totally obvious she couldn’t be wearing a bra, and once you got that info, well… that was it.
“So what do we do?” Rae asked.
Anthony looked across the street at Hurricanes, which meant looking past Rae. Except his eyes kept getting
snagged. And not just on that sparkly top and what was under it. On her lips. On her hair. Her hair drove him crazy-there was so much of it, and it was so curly, that he was always wondering what it would feel like to burrow his
hands into it.
Knock it off, he ordered himself. How could he sit there obsessing over a girl’s hair when Jesse was missing?
“Maybe there’s a window in the guys’ bathroom I could go through,” Anthony said, forcing his mind back to his
most immediate problem. Then he shook his head. “But that wouldn’t really help.”
“The two of us could probably get in with our IDs,” Yana told him.
“But we need Rae,” he answered without thinking. He shot a glance at Yana in the rearview mirror.
She didn’t look like she thought it was strange that they needed Rae to ask a bartender a few questions.
They sat in silence for a long moment, then Yana broke it. “I think that bouncer liked me,” she said. “I bet I can get
us in.”
“What, you think you’re just going to smile at him and he’ll fall on his knees and say yes to anything you want?”
Anthony asked.
“Pretty much,” Yana said. “Stay here. I’ll wave to you when it’s okay.” And she was out of the car before he or Rae
could say another word.
Anthony watched her strut across the street. He had to admit she was pretty good guy bait. “It’s still weird that you
two are friends,” he said, talking without thinking again. Okay, here’s the order – use brain, then open mouth, he told
himself.
“What are you talking about? Yana’s great,” Rae protested.
“Yeah,” Anthony agreed.
“Yeah, but what?” Rae pressed.
Why couldn’t she be the kind of girl who let stuff drop? “It’s just that you’re pretty different,” he answered.
“Different how?” Rae asked.
There were the obvious ways-like how they dressed. But the big difference was that even though Yana joked
around a lot, Anthony got the feeling that she was hard inside. Kind of like him. And Rae-Rae could come off hard
sometimes. But it was like she’d had to learn to be that way to get through the hospital. It was more of a shell-not
her center.
“Different how?” Rae repeated, a twinge of that very hardness in her tone. Defense mode.
He didn’t think she’d especially like the whole soft-versus-hard thing. “Uh, you know. You’re all prep school, and
she-”
“That’s such bull,” Rae interrupted. “Why are you and Yana so hung up on the private school thing? The people
who go to my school are just… people.”
Yeah, rich people. Smart people, Anthony thought.
“Have you ever even been inside a public-” he began. Then he caught sight of Yana waving frantically from across
the street. It looked like she’d been waving for a while. “Come on,” he told Rae. “I guess we’re getting in after all.”