She tilted her head, thinking it over.
“I’ll owe you one,” I said.
“You owe me so much…” She smiled. “Are you wanting to do this right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Does Sara know?”
“We’re not really talking…”
“I’ve noticed. So how do you propose we move however many bags of drugs without anyone noticing?”
“I have no idea.”
She shook her head. “Well obviously we’ll use Helena as an excuse…”
“We’ve got more to bring back from there?”
“Supplies. Bags of flour, plastic tubs filled with sugar and coffee…”
“So we take a load from Helena, with some room to spare, and we mix in some extras from the magic school bus.”
“We pile them in the basement, and while we’re at it, we figure out a special storage area for your crap.”
“Under the subfloor. There’s a good half a meter under the plywood.”
“Sounds pretty obvious to me.”
“I’m open to ideas.”
She shook her head at me. “You have a real talent for getting us to the worst case scenario, Baptiste.”
“You think I should have just left it alone.”
“Yeah… now you’ve stolen someone else’s drug stash and brought it home with you. What part of that plan makes sense?”
“The previous owners are dead.” And I’d needed the MDMA. But I didn’t tell her that.
“Dead, eh? You sure about that?”
“Fifty percent sure…”
“I think the only question is whether or not we’ll all live long enough to see this bite you in the ass.”
At least I didn’t need to guess how she felt about it.
By the time Lisa had pulled Graham aside and told him the story, it was almost seven at night, and we figured that it wouldn’t make much sense to be out hauling supplies in the middle of the night. We’d have to wait until morning.
Of course, there’s our weekly meeting in the morning… always at just the wrong time.
But I’d figure something out.
In the meantime, I could hear laughing from upstairs in Fiona and Kayla’s room. Not just the two of them, but another laugh that I hadn’t heard before.
I went upstairs to see.
They were in the middle of a movie night, having brought the big screen upstairs and planted it on Fiona’s desk. Fiona was sitting on the bed beside the red-haired girl, who was sitting up for a change.
Not only had no one invited me, but they’d decided to watch one of my old favourites.
Or maybe they’d picked it because they knew it would lure me in.
“Anchorman ?” I said. “About time.”
Fiona shushed me as Ron Burgundy explained the German roots of San Diago.
I sat down on Kayla’s bed beside her.
She gave me a quick squeeze on the thigh and a warm smile.
I looked over to the red-haired girl and gave her a smile of my own.
She saw me and looked back at the screen. She didn’t seem to want to acknowledge me.
“I’ve never heard of that expression either,” Fiona said as she watched the movie. “When in Rome?”
I didn’t know how to answer that.
“Yazz flute?” she asked a moment later. “What’s that? I don’t really get this movie.”
“It’s an acquired taste,” I said. “Maybe you had to be there.”
“I can’t imagine you in one of those suits. Did you really dress like that?”
I laughed. “I’m not that old, Fiona. This is set in the 1970s. How old do you think I am?”
“Old enough to be born in the last millenium,” Kayla said. “That’s how old.”
“Fuck,” I said. “I am old.”
I noticed that the red-haired girl was glaring at me.
I decided to shut up for a while.
And I listened to them laugh, often at the wrong parts, like they found the idea of the movie trying to be funny a lot funnier than the actual jokes.
But it was still nice to hear Kayla and Fiona laugh.
The other laugh didn’t come back. The red-haired girl had withdrawn; she was still watching, but every few minutes she’d take a break from the movie long enough to give me an angry look.
She didn’t want me there.
But Kayla did.
She was making sure her body was pressed against mine, nuzzling her head against my shoulder.
Every so often I’d pull away a little, so that Fiona didn’t get the wrong impression.
Or maybe so Fiona wouldn’t figure out exactly what I was starting to feel.
Once the movie ended, the red-haired girl laid back down in Fiona’s bed.
Fiona seemed surprised by that, and stood up. “Aren’t we going to watch number two?” she asked.
“I’m tired,” the girl said.
“You can’t be tired, Gwyneth,” Kayla said. “Not when there’s more Ron Burgundy on the way.”
“Gwyneth…” I said. “So that’s your name…”
“I’m tired,” the girl said again.
“Maybe a drink?” Kayla asked.
“We can watch it tomorrow night,” Fiona said. “It’s okay.”
“I can make my famous nachos,” I said.
“I’m not interested,” the girl said.
“You don’t like nachos?”
“I’m tired… can everyone just let me get some sleep?”
“What’s going on, Gwyneth?” Fiona asked. “You were fine a few minutes ago.”
“No, I wasn’t fine,” she said. “I’m not fine. Can you get him out of here please?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m not sure what I said…”
“Just get out of here!” she screamed.
“Calm down,” Kayla said. “Don’t yell at him.”
I got up off the bed and started walking out of the room.
“You don’t have to go,” Kayla said.
“I think you should,” Fiona said.
I left the room.
Kayla followed after me. All the way into my bedroom.
She closed the door behind us.
“I’m sorry, Baptiste,” she said. “I don’t know what that was about.”
“She doesn’t like me,” I said. “That’s okay. She isn’t the first person to take an instant dislike to someone.”
“It’s not okay.” She hung her arm over my shoulder. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Don’t… she’s been through a lot, Kayla. More than I think either of us could ever understand. If hating on me helps her… well, that’s fine.”
She nodded. “It’s too bad, though, eh?”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s pretty cute… you know, in spite of the whole vastly underweight thing.”
“I wouldn’t know…”
“Come on… I’ll bet you were delighted to add another girl to the mix. One more flavour for your collection.” She wrapped her other arm around me and started pulling down on my neck. She gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “Don’t try and tell me you’re not interested in trying out a few new tastes.”
I took a step back. “You can’t do that, Kayla.”
“What?”
“You can’t just kiss me. You can’t keep touching me. You can’t do that.”
“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”
“I’m still with Sara. That hasn’t changed. And I’m pretty fucking old, remember?”
“I don’t care… about any of that.”
“What about Matt? Can’t you molest him or something?”
“I don’t want Matt,” she said. “I want you.”
“I can’t.”
“We’re here, Baptiste. Just do what you want.”
“I’m not sure what you’re expecting.”
She kissed me. “Like that.”
“Oh.”
“Well?”
I gave her a kiss.
Then another.
I wrapped my arms around her and lowered her onto the bed.