The Crazy Things Girls Do for Love (11 page)

“You could always wear hightops or something like that,” suggests Kristin.

No, she couldn’t.

“And look like the Barbarian? I’d rather wear paper bags on my feet.”

“Well, what about that fake leather stuff vegetarians and vegans wear then?” tries Kristin.

Sicilee feels a new panic engulf her. “Vegetarians
and
vegans?” she repeats.

“Yeah, sure. They have lots of fake stuff. Cheese … mayonnaise … meat … milk. And leather. Jackets … shoes … boots … trainers … bags. Whatever.”

“That’s not what I meant,” says Sicilee. “I meant, how come you said vegetarians
and
vegans? You mean there’s a difference?”

“Um, duh… Yes.” Kristin turns on the hairdryer and plays it across her toes. “Why? What did you say you are?”

“Vegan.” Sicilee hears Maya Baraberra’s ultra-irritating super-cool voice saying,
I bet you don’t even know what a vegan is…
“I thought they were the same thing.”

“Oh boy, have you got on the wrong bus!” This is the first time Sicilee ever noticed how witch-like Kristin’s laugh can be. “Vegans are, like, really fanatical. Vegetarians are just a pain in the butt. You know, all vegans are vegetarians, but all vegetarians aren’t vegans.”

Now
she tells her.

“Merciful Mother!” Sicilee steps off the stool and sits down on the floor with a thud. “Fanatical like how?”

“Well … they won’t touch anything that’s ever been
near
an animal. And I mean
nothing
. No milk, no eggs, no butter, no cheese—”

“No cheese? You mean they don’t eat pizza?”

“Not with cheese.” Kristin wiggles her toes. “And no honey, either.”

“Honey?” What does honey have to do with chopping up cows and putting them in a bun with ketchup? “Are you making this up?” demands Sicilee.

“Who could make this up?” asks Kristin.

“I don’t believe it.” She refuses to. “You have to be wrong. No one could live like that. It’s like punishing yourself just for being alive.”

“It gets worse,” Kristin assures her. “You know that sweater you were wearing today? And the blouse? They’re out, too. No wool and no silk.”

No wool and no silk?
Is she supposed to go naked as well as barefoot?

“And your silver parka’s out because it’s filled with duck down.”

“What am I supposed to do? Wrap myself in a blanket?”

“Not a wool one,” says Kristin.

Sweet Mary! Is there no end to this?

“Which means that you should ditch all your mittens and gloves and scarves.”

Kristin has never shown any sadistic tendencies before, but she has to be winding Sicilee up. She
has
to be. “How do you know all this stuff?” demands Sicilee.

“Don’t you remember when my brother went through that post-punk, pissed-off-about-everything phase during his first year in college?”

“Vaguely,” says Sicilee. “Didn’t he have a pin through his eyebrow?”

“Yeah, but besides the pins and the tattoos and stuff he went vegan. You wouldn’t believe how torturous it was. You’d think he just got off the space ship from Mars. He wouldn’t touch anything until he’d read the label. And can you believe it, he wanted to throw most of my make-up away! And my shampoos and conditioners and God knows what else. How sick is that? It drove my mom totally nuts. It was like living with the food police. And God forbid you ate an egg! He went into mega meltdown like you’d bitten the head off a live chicken.”

Sicilee groans. Holy Mother! No wonder nobody likes these people. They want to wring every drop of joy out of life that they can.

“I have it! I have it! I know what you can do!” Kristin is so excited that a cotton ball falls from between her toes. “Just
say
you’re wearing fake leather or fur or silk or whatever. Some of the stuff they make now is pretty cool. Nobody’ll know the difference.”

Gloom floods Sicilee’s heart. “Maya will know.”

“Maya?”

“Yes,
Maya
. Little Miss Oh-how-I-love-your-boots. What do you think she’s doing when she skulks past our table at lunch? Taking the scenic route? She’s checking up on what I’m eating, that’s what she’s doing.” No wonder she smirked at Sicilee the other day when she saw her eating a cheese sandwich. It’s a miracle she didn’t say something about it this morning.
Oh, wow. Sicilee, you’re the only vegan I know who eats cheese
and
wears leather…

“Oh, get real, Siss,” says Kristin. “She can’t rip your clothes off you to check the labels.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past her,” says Sicilee.

Chapter Twenty
Juanita, Mary Jo and Whatshername

“I
can’t help it, those two really push my buttons,” Waneeda is saying. “It was bad enough at the meeting when they wouldn’t shut up even to breathe. All that blahblah crap about how Green they are. It was enough to make you puke.”

“I don’t know… I thought they were pretty funny.” Joy Marie smiles over her sandwich. “It was like watching a game of verbal tennis. I kept expecting one of them to fall over the net.”

If only…

“Oh, right. And I suppose you think it’s hilarious the way they follow Cody around like tracker dogs.” No wonder he always walks in groups of three or more; he needs the protection.

“Yes, I do,” says Joy Marie. “Maya’s usually so cool she wouldn’t break sweat in a sauna. And as for Sicilee…” Joy Marie grins. “Come on, Waneeda. It’s like finding out that the Queen of England takes out her own garbage.”

A smile pushes at Waneeda’s mouth. “Yeah, well…” she concedes, if grudgingly. “I guess that is pretty funny. But it isn’t funny the way they’ve been putting it on ever since the meeting.” Waneeda can’t decide which of them irks her more: Sicilee strutting around looking as green as one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men; or Maya plastering her bag with all those new badges (NO COAL … DAMS FOR THE DAMNED … BE A SOLUTION TO POLLUTION … WHERE WILL YOU BE WHEN THE OIL RUNS OUT? … WHERE DO YOU THINK THE ENVIRONMENT IS? … – and so forth, as Clemens might say), so that it’s a miracle she can lift the damn thing. “It’s not like they’re fooling anyone.”

Joy Marie allows herself a small smile. “You mean besides Clemens.”

Clemens doesn’t count. Expecting him to realize what Sicilee and Maya are doing would be like expecting an Amazonian native to tell you where to eat in New York.

“But don’t you think they’re outrageous?” insists Waneeda. “Are we all supposed to be stupid or something? You’d have to have the brains of a rock to believe that either of them gives a toothpick about the planet.”

Joy Marie chews thoughtfully for a few seconds. “You mean unlike
you
?”

“Excuse me, but I don’t drive around in a car as big as a bus. And I don’t go shopping every single weekend, either,” snaps Waneeda. “And as for all that malarkey about being vegetarians…”

Joy Marie is of the opinion that they have to give Maya the benefit of the doubt. “She does have a BE KIND TO ANIMALS – DON’T EAT THEM button on her book bag.”

“OK, maybe Maya,” says Waneeda. “Her crowd probably thinks red meat’s really passé.”

“Well, it’s nice somebody does.” Joy Marie glances at the plate of spaghetti and meatballs Waneeda is eating. “I’ve never noticed you avoiding it.”

“But I’ve never claimed to be a vegetarian,” argues Waneeda. “When did I say that? Never, that’s when. But Sicilee did.
And
she has fur boots. And a fur coat! People who wear fur boots don’t refuse to eat cows!” Waneeda jabs at a meatball with so much force it jumps onto her tray. “You know as well as I do that the only reason either of them went to the meeting was because of Cody Lightfoot. They were all over him like flies on a corpse.”

“At least they acted like they were interested in the environment and had something to say.” Which, of course, is not something that can be said about Waneeda.

Trust Joy Marie not to let that go. “Can’t you get off my case about that?” snaps Waneeda. “And, anyway, they were just trying to impress him.”

“Maybe.” Joy Marie looks down at her sandwich. “But I bet they know as much as you do about being Green. Maybe more.”

Joy Marie is, in fact, being diplomatic. For the last year-and-a-half, Waneeda has let everything Joy Marie’s tried to tell her about the environment circle around her head and immediately vanish into the ether without the inconvenience of having to go in one ear and out the other first. And Joy Marie knows it. So does Waneeda.

Nonetheless, Waneeda is all set to defend herself – but isn’t given the chance.

“You ladies aren’t busy, are you?” asks an unexpected voice beside them. “You mind if I have a few minutes of your time?”

Waneeda and Joy Marie both look up in surprise, if not complete confusion. Having Cody Lightfoot suddenly appear beside you takes some getting used to even if he hasn’t almost caught you talking about him.

Possibly because he’s used to girls gaping silently at him, Cody doesn’t wait for an answer but pulls out the chair next to Joy Marie and sits down. “Don’t let me impinge.” He waves one hand at Joy Marie’s sandwich and Waneeda’s plate of spaghetti. “I can talk while you eat.” His other hand holds a plain brown folder, which he lays in front of him on the table.

Waneeda is so surprised that Cody wants to talk to them that she swallows half a meatball without chewing it first.

“Is it about the meeting?” asks Joy Marie. “Because if it’s about the meeting, I haven’t had time to type up the minutes yet. I usually do that over the weekend.”

“The minutes?” He smiles as if she’s said something odd but adorable. “You mean all that old-fashioned so-and-so said this and so-and-so said that blahdeblah?” He half-turns in his seat and leans his elbows on the table, so that he is looking at both of them in an almost conspiratorial way. “I wouldn’t worry about that, Mary Jo. You know, there was so much going on.” Joy Marie is so unused to being smiled at like this by a boy that she makes no response to the fact that he still doesn’t know her name. “It’d take you hours just to get down everything Clemens said.” He gives her a mischievous wink. “All you really need to type up is the gist. You know, twelve new members … decision to have a big celebration for Earth Day this year … raising awareness – that kind of thing. Just for the record.”

“They’re minutes,” says Joy Marie. “I wasn’t planning to turn them into a term paper.”

Cody laughs, but Waneeda is watching his fingers tap on the folder. The only boy who has ever spoken to either Joy Marie or her in a voluntary, friendly way and not because of some ulterior motive is Clemens. She wonders what Cody wants.

“So what is it you want to talk about?” ventures Waneeda. And then, when the Lightfoot smile falls on her like an especially brilliant beam of sunlight, she says, stumbling, “I mean … if it isn’t about the meeting.”

“It’s Juanita, right?” But he gives her no chance either to agree or disagree with his innovative interpretation of her name. “I hear what you’re saying, Juanita. Thing is, it kind of
is
about the meeting. It’s linked. Connected.” His smile somehow circles both of them. “Like a string to a balloon.”

Waneeda and Joy Marie nod. Uncomprehendingly.

“See, the thing is… I don’t know if Clem told you, but I got to have a few words with our great leader yesterday.”

“Great leader?” repeats Waneeda. Has Cody been to Washington and back in only a day?

Cody doesn’t realize he’s been asked a question. “Don’t get me wrong – I comprendo that Clemens has had his bad scenes with Dr Firestone – I’ve heard all about them. But the good doctor and I hit it off all right. He has that weird tie-thing going on, but he’s not as unreasonable as Clem lead me to believe. He absolutely heard what I was saying.”

Dr Firestone. Of course that’s who he meant. Still not certain where this conversation is going, Joy Marie and Waneeda nod again.

“I’ll announce it at the next meeting, of course, but the terrific news is that he’s totally on board. And he really loves our slogan: make them aware and they will care? He was a little apprehensive that we might offend some people while we’re trying to get them on board. You know, because there’s been some precedence for that kind of negative thing? But I told him there was no need to worry. I said that the new Environmental Club is as user-friendly as a puppy now. And then I explained about the Earth Day gig and getting local businesses as well as the school involved and everything, and he was over the moon. He says he’ll back us two hundred per cent.”

“That’s great,” says Joy Marie. “Dr Firestone is usually in front of us, telling us to stop – not behind us.” Suddenly aware that she’s still holding half a cheese sandwich, Joy Marie takes a small bite.

“Clemens must be really thrilled,” says Waneeda.

“Right. Of course he is.” His eyes on them, Cody opens the folder. “And I knew I could count on your help. I knew straight off you guys are real backbone types.” He leans forward just a little bit more, as though he’s about to confide some secret that may break their hearts. “Which kind of brings us back to those minutes you mentioned before, Mary Jo.”

Waneeda puts down her fork. She knew he wanted something.

Dr Firestone, who may wear wacky ties, but is still both a pedant and a bureaucrat, would like to see something in writing. No major document or anything like that, just a brief description of how they see the Earth Day gig working out and some of the thoughts there have been on how to generate interest among the student body as well as among the good citizens of Clifton Springs. Something to show his people – the rest of the staff and the school board and the town council – so they know what’s going down.

“I figured that since you’re the lady who was taking notes…” Cody trails off as if he’s waiting for Joy Marie to fill in the blank, but she is chewing rather automatically at this point and doesn’t stop to speak. “I brought you this. It’s what we used last year? In my old club? I figured you could use it as a model. Or even borrow from it liberally. It’s just to get us started.” Without much effort, his smile could disarm a large army. It makes Waneeda drop her fork. “Which should make it pretty easy for you to whip up a couple of pages and run off some copies for Dr F.” Now he seems to be trying to disarm not a large army but entire nations. “I know it’s kind of short notice – I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, it is so awesome of you – and I’d offer to help with the typing, I really would, only I’m, like, all thumbs when it comes to stuff like that.” He spreads his fingers in the air so that he seems to be smiling at them through a fence. “And I’m busy as a bird, really. But maybe Juanita here could give you a hand.”