Little Miss Red (20 page)

Or was this just like in
Drowning in Doubt
, when Devon found out that the rabbi she had fallen in lust with was actually a thief? If I remembered correctly,
he
stole silver menorahs too!

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Uh, nothing,” I replied, glad I remembered from all those
CSI
episodes I had watched with Jeremy that the most important thing to do when around a criminal was to not let on that you knew they were a criminal. As nonchalantly as I could, I shut the safe and started picking up the stock certificates.

He walked over and put his arms around me. “You sure? You’re looking at me kind of weird.”

“Weird how?” I asked, nervously.

He shrugged. “Most of the time you look at me like you’re all into me, but now…I don’t know…it’s different.” A panicked look came over his face. “You still like me, right? What you said last night when we were making out—that I’m the coolest guy you’ve ever met in your entire life—that still stands, right?”

For someone who never worried because he always lived in the moment, he sounded completely freaked out. Almost like he was…insecure.

“Right, Red?” he said, anxiously.

Before I could respond, my iPhone rang. I glanced at the display. It was Michael! What was I going to do? I couldn’t take the call in front of Jack. Maybe he was a criminal, but that didn’t mean he deserved to be kicked when he was was feeling so unsure of himself.

Except that he had totally lost interest in me and was back on the couch watching TV.

“You’re supposed to be on a plane!” I whispered when I answered.

“Why haven’t you responded to any of my e-mails?” he demanded.

“I’ve been busy. Wait—you’re not using your phone when all electronic devices are supposed to be turned off, are you?”

“No. I’m already here in Florida. I got on an earlier flight. Hey, Sophie, you’re not really mad at me, are you?” he asked nervously.

I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t one of those girls who liked to play games, but it was obvious that the best way to get a guy to like you was to pretend you weren’t interested. “Can I call you back in a little while? I’m sort of in the middle of something,” I said.

Right then Jack sneezed. Maybe
he
was allergic to drama too.

“Is that your grandmother?” Michael asked.

“It’s the TV,” I said as I marched into the bathroom.

“Wait—where are you going?” Jack called after me. “Are you
sure
you’re not mad at me?”

As I stared at my arms, I could see the red welts starting to come back. I couldn’t take the stress anymore. Living an exciting life torn between two men was literally making me sick. Or at least very, very itchy. It was time for me to stop being what Devon’s sister called a “sneaky, conniving harlot” and return to my regular-girl roots. I sighed. “Michael, there’s something I need to tell you,” I said, scratching at my arm.

“What is it?”

“Well, I was very moved by the declarations of love you sent me today—”

“I didn’t say I loved you,” he said.

“Yes you did. You wrote ‘Love, Michael.’”

“Yeah, but that’s just a…whaddyacallit…salutation.”

“Actually, it’s a closing salutation,” I corrected. “Okay,
maybe you didn’t say you
loved
me,” I admitted, “but you
did
say you wanted to get back together.”

“Do we really need to spend so much time talking about this?” he asked, uncomfortably. “Why does everything always need to be such a
discussion
?”

I ignored him and continued. “But the thing is, during the time when we were broken up, I—”

“Sophie, do you want a bagel too?” Grandma Roz yelled from the kitchen.

“No, thank you,” I yelled back.

“
Ow
. My ear!” Michael yelled.

“Sorry. Anyway, after we broke up…around the same time, actually…I met someone,” I admitted. “And…well, let’s just say it got pretty serious pretty quickly.” I felt horrible breaking his heart like this, but I had to stop spinning a web of lies. It was such a relief to finally come clean after holding my secret in for so long that my legs buckled and I had to sit on the toilet.

“What do you mean, you met someone?” Michael asked, confused. “You’ve been in Florida with old people.”

I scratched at my other arm. “I met him on the plane. His name is Jack. And, actually, he
is
a little older. And very well-traveled. He’s in a band. They’ve toured all over the Midwest.” I decided to leave out the part about him maybe being a criminal until I gathered more information.

“But we were together for three
years
!” Michael said. “You can’t just hook up with someone and in three
days
say it’s serious without giving me a chance. What kind of return policy is
that
?”

I had forgotten how funny Michael could be. Jack was hot, but he wasn’t all that funny. And funny
was
very important.

“Do you at least want something to drink?” Grandma Roz yelled. “I just made a new batch of Crystal Light!”

“No, I’m okay,” I yelled back.

“
Ow
,” Michael yelled.

“Sorry.”

“Do you yell in
his
ear and shatter
his
eardrums too?” he demanded. I could tell from the sound of his voice that not only was he heartbroken, but he was also seething with jealousy, just like Juergen, the German architect in
Reveling in Rapture
, after Devon left him for a Hungarian violinist.

The stress of shattering Michael’s heart like this was so overwhelming I almost started hyperventilating. As I grabbed onto the side of the toilet to steady myself, I flushed it by mistake.

“What’s that noise?” he asked.

“The toilet flushing,” I admitted.

“While you’ve been telling me about how you’re cheating on me, you’ve been going to the
bathroom
?!”

“Okay, A) I was not cheating on you—I didn’t kiss him until you decided to ‘push the stop button’; and B) I pushed the toilet thingy by mistake,” I said. “I just wanted to have this conversation in private because my grandmother and
Jack are in the living room. Probably watching
The Sands of Time
.”

“What?”

“A soap opera.”

“The guy you’re cheating on me with watches
soap operas
?!”

My neck started to itch. “Okay, C) he’s very in touch with his feminine side because of the musician thing; and D) I repeat—I am not cheating on you. I met him after we had semi-broken up.”

“Yeah, but everyone knows that there’s a two-week window after a breakup where either party gets to change their mind!” he cried.

There was? Usually, I was so good about Googling stuff, but I had gotten so caught up in Jack, I hadn’t had time to double-check the rules.

“I can’t believe this,” he grumbled. “I flew all the way to Florida to see you—”

“Um, excuse me—you flew to Florida because you were hanging around your house being annoying and your mother couldn’t take it anymore,” I corrected him.

“You’d think by dating someone for three years, you’d know them pretty well,” he went on, “but I guess not. I guess there’s nothing else to say then—”

“Michael, wait—” I cried. I couldn’t let it end like this. “See, the thing is, as compatible as Jack and I may be, the truth is…I’m torn.” Especially if it turned out Jack was a
thief and the only time I’d be able to see him was during jail visits. “And sometimes I find myself missing you. A lot. Like a lot–a lot.” Okay, maybe the missing-him thing hadn’t happened until this phone call made me remember how funny he was, but it was definitely the case now.

“Yeah, well, you can’t have it both ways,” Michael said coldly. “You’ve made your decision. Anyway, I have to go now. We’re about to go into Red Lobster for the early bird special. Good-bye, Sophie. It was nice knowing you.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but the line went dead.

No wonder Devon ended up in rehab—the pressure from feeling torn and the guilt of having to break someone’s heart was enough to make anyone drink and become addicted to antianxiety medication on top of diet pills.

I was right—when I came out of the bathroom, Jack and Grandma Roz were watching
The Sands of Time
. Apparently, the drama of a nurse named Monica making out with Dr. Geraldo Alonso, who had to leave his country during a revolution, had replaced the drama of the break-in.

Jack looked up. “You okay, Red? You look a little upset. It’s not me, is it?” he asked anxiously.

“No, it’s not you,” I sighed. Okay—thinking it was always about you? So not sexy. But I
was
upset. I had gotten what I thought I wanted—a free-spirited, motorcycle-driving hottie—but maybe at the end of the day, I
liked
sitting on a couch watching
MTV Cribs
on a Friday night. Or maybe not. I didn’t know anymore. Drama really jumbled your brain.

“You kids should go out for your night on the town,” Grandma Roz said. I couldn’t get over how calm she was about everything. “No reason to sit here on your tushes
and watch me fill out a police report. Especially since you’re all dolled up after your day of beauty, Sophie.”

Unfortunately, with the humidity, all but one of my curls had uncurled and my makeup had pretty much melted down my face.

“Whaddya say, Red? Ready for another adventure?” asked Jack.

“I guess so,” I replied. It was either that, or sit there wondering if I had made the wrong decision about breaking up with Michael.

“Where are we going?” I asked a half hour later. Once you got out of the West Palm/Boca Raton area of Florida, there were less orthopedic-sneaker-wearing old people and
ALL YOU CAN EAT EARLY BIRD SPECIAL
signs and more rusted-out cars on cinder blocks and check-cashing places. On a good day, it was kind of creepy, but when you were in a Buick with a guy who may or may not be a criminal, it bordered on downright scary.

“Not quite sure. Thought we’d just drive for a while. Find a romantic spot and just hang,” he said, flashing me a grin.

Not the answer I was hoping for. How could I not have noticed how yellow his teeth were before now? And was it just my imagination, or were they kind of pointy?

My iPhone buzzed.

Just wanted u to know I met someone new 2. So now we’re even.

Little bubbles of jealousy began to stir in my stomach. I typed back.

Who is she? A waitress at Red Lobster?

NO. She’s a video vixen. I met her at the shuffleboard court.

A VIDEO VIXEN???? YEAH, RIGHT.

She is! She did a 50 Cent video! She’s half-Cuban/half-Jewish. Her grandmother lives here. Oh, and she’s an older woman—18.

The bubbles began to rise higher.

Yeah, well, Jack’s even OLDER. He’s 19!

Yeah, well, she once met Beyonce!

The bubbles began to pop.

“Who you texting?” Jack asked as he pushed the preset radio stations looking for a good song. Unfortunately, all that came up was easy listening and classical.

“Just someone…stupid,” I replied, texting back:

U said you liked my flat butt, but i just KNEW what u really wanted was someone with a booty!

Do your parents know ur hanging out with a guy who rides a motorcycle and only went to community college?????

“Hey look, a Dairy Queen,” said Jack. “Wanna stop?”

“Sure,” I said, not looking up from the phone. Maybe a Blizzard would help calm the jealousy bubbles that were now burning—like how Grandma Roz took baking soda for her heartburn.

Other than the bored kid behind the counter reading a
Fangoria
magazine, we were the only people in the place. The day before I probably would’ve thought that it was superromantic, but now? I wasn’t so sure.

After I had paid for our ice cream and we were settled at a table, Jack sighed and looked at me. “Red, we need to talk.”

Oh my god. How many “We need to talk” talks could a girl handle? My arms began to itch again. I was going to have to buy some calamine lotion with the little money I had left.

“About what?”

“Well, any self-help book worth its salt talks about how good communication is key in a relationship, and I’m just feeling…I don’t know…that we’re not
communicating
so good lately. Like ever since you got home this afternoon, you’ve been on Venus and I’ve been on Mars. Especially after the break-in.”

I fiddled with the brim of my cowboy hat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said nervously.

“I just feel like, I dunno, suddenly you don’t
trust
me or something,” he continued. “And everyone knows that trust is the most important part of a relationship.”

“And humor, that’s important too,” I added. “And chemistry.”

He shrugged. “Well, yeah, but after a while that chemistry stuff settles down. It’s just a fact of life. Actually, that’s when a relationship and true intimacy
really
begins. Before that is what they call the ‘infatuation’ phase—when the oxytocin is being released.”

“Oxy what?”

“Oxytocin,” he repeated. “It’s the same hormone that’s released when a woman breast-feeds. They call it the ‘bonding hormone.’”

Who
was
this guy? What happened to the dangerous Jack? The one who winked and turned on electronic devices when they were supposed to stay off? What on earth was he talking about? “How do you know this stuff? From your therapist?”

“No, I saw it on a special during a PBS pledge drive.”

Jack
watched PBS?

He took my hand. “I know you think I was the one who tried to steal from your grandmother,” he said quietly. “I can see it in your eyes. But I didn’t. I’d never do anything like that.” He shuddered. “I still remember how much my butt hurt after my dad found out I stole a Charleston Chew from the Quick-E-Mart when I was seven. Plus, stealing really screws with your karma.”

Self-help books, karma…the next thing I knew, Jack was going to tell me he was a Buddhist.

“And while I’ve come to really, really care about you this past week, Red, I’m not sure I can see a future with someone who would think I could do something like that. Which sucks because I think I’m kind-of-sort-of falling—”