Sign Here(14)

One beer.

Coors.

I snatched it and pulled it in to my chest before I realized how ridiculous I looked. How pathetic. But I didn’t put it down. There was a folded piece of paper underneath.


Don’t be mad.

—C.



She knew where to get beer. The whole time at Jack’s: the wide-eyed look, the hushed tones, the I-don’t-do-drugs-but-you-can-do-what-you-want moment—all of it was an act. She lied the whole time.

I shoved the beer into my briefcase. If it had been anything else, I would’ve put it on her desk. But I wanted that beer, and I wasn’t going to suffer on principle. Down here, principles are worthless. I had forgotten that for a second, but not forever. If nothing else, Hell gave us plenty of time.

“Hey, buddy.” Cal knocked on my cubicle divider, fidgeting with the seam of an oversized sweater. “Did you get my present?”

I nodded. “Regret showing Trey your true colors yet?”

I was being sarcastic, but she pitched forward instantly.

“He’s batshit, huh?”

I looked at her with my eyebrows raised until she backed up. “You should drink some water,” I said, nodding toward the kitchen. “They keep bottles in the fridge.”

She pulled harder on her sweater as she shook her head.

“Listen, you seem like a good guy, so I’m going to level with you. I was trying to go for a long game; I really was. I wanted to work the sweet-sad-girl angle for as long as possible, but I think I showed my cards too early last night. We didn’t have booze on Third; I guess I’m a bit of a lightweight now. Trey won’t shut the fuck up about it; he beeped me all night. If he tells KQ, I’ll be back to square one. I’ll have to go with a whole new character, and that’s just not how I planned it. I know I’m not your favorite person right now, but do you have any interest in making Trey sound like a moron?”

“What makes you think I’m a good guy?”

“If you counteract whatever stories Trey tells about last night, I’ll owe you.” She inched back into my space just enough for her knee to touch my elbow. “And think about how much fun it would be!”

I rubbed my eyes with my palms.

“Think about it: if we can put a chink in that Trey-is-perfect armor of his, maybe KQ will finally stop tea-bagging him long enough for the rest of us to get some recognition. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

I would. I would like that very much. But at least I knew what to expect from Trey. Cal was a wild card.

“Fine,” I said eventually.

Cal clapped her hands and grabbed my face, kissing both cheeks.

“We’re going to be great friends,” she said. “For real this time.”

She tugged her sweater down over her hips, a lifeless sack from her shoulders to her thighs. She was going for nondescript, and she was nailing it. She mimed clapping again, her eyes bright, and disappeared behind my cubicle wall.



* * *



—

“HOW DID OUR LITTLE learning experiment go yesterday, fucknuts?” KQ asked when she sat down. She leaned back in her chair, legs splayed. She was wearing a skirt. I kept my eyes on my granola bar, the only thing that didn’t get stuck in the vending machine.

“Turns out we have ourselves a real firecracker over here, everyone!” Trey said, throwing his arm around Cal and shaking her. She stayed limp under his attention. “This crazy bitch tore up the strip club last night.”

Everyone looked skeptical.

Cal blushed, red flooding her neck and cheeks. Even her blood knew how to lie.

“What does a night at the strip club have to do with sales?” KQ asked. “Not that I can’t appreciate a good time,” she added, smiling at Trey. Her knees were strangers at a party.

“I thought to myself, Trey, where would be the hardest place to sell something? How about somewhere where other people are selling things? And then I thought, let’s make it even harder. Let’s sell the thing that they are selling back to them.” He paused after this emphasis, letting the brilliance sink in. “Do you follow?”

“I’m following,” KQ said, her voice the polyester cousin of intrigue.

“So I asked my little grasshoppers here to get the strippers to buy us a round of drinks.”

When I walked in the door, I had been fifty-fifty about whether to help Cal. But Trey could go fuck himself. I was nobody’s grasshopper.

“How creative!” KQ exclaimed. “How did you all do?”

“Like I was saying, we might need to keep this one locked up, boss. I volunteer for the first watch!” Trey grabbed Cal’s wrists and pinned them to the table with one hand. With the other, he did an elaborate mime of locking her down, swallowing the key, and rubbing his belly.

Cal just sat there, wide-eyed and red-cheeked, drowning in a grandma’s sweater.

“Hey, Trey, maybe we should touch base as a group before we present anything,” I said, loudly enough for everyone to hear but quietly enough to make them think they shouldn’t have.

“You snooze, you lose, Pey. Shouldn’t have gone home early.”

“Pey didn’t—” Cal started. She gulped audibly before pressing on. “Pey didn’t go home early, Trey.” Then she whispered like I had. “I think we should check in, just to make sure your memory is on track.”