My Last Innocent Year(54)

“What’s that?” Abe asked.

“Nothing, Dad. That’s great about Jeffrey. Mrs. Greenbaum must be very happy.” The Greenbaums lived around the corner from us and were in the Judaica business. Jeffrey and I had kissed once in the back of a taxicab. He was the first boy I ever made cry.

“I always said every Jewish family needs a doctor,” Abe said.

“Maybe Mrs. Greenbaum will let us borrow Jeffrey.”

“Did you decide about the magazine?”

“I’m letting them know tomorrow.”

“Did you ask for more money?”

Debra pulled off the towel, revealing popsicle-red hair. “No, Dad, but I will.” I hung up as Kelsey walked in and surveyed the mess.

“Debra dyed her hair,” I said.

Debra struck a ta-da stance. “Whaddaya think?”

“Well,” Kelsey said, “you’ll be easy to spot in a crowd.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Debra asked.

“Nothing,” said Kelsey, as Crashy wiped her red hands on one of Kelsey’s towels. “I just don’t like coming home to a mess.” She walked into the bedroom and closed the door. I followed her, leaving Debra and Crashy giggling in the bathroom.

Kelsey looked over at Debra’s bed, unmade and piled high with clothes. I thought I saw part of a sandwich under her pillow.

“I don’t like the way she’s acting right now,” Kelsey said. “Do you?”

“She’s okay.”

“Now you think she’s okay? You were the one who was worried about her. I think she’s up to something. I think Crashy is in on it, too.”

I folded a couple of Debra’s Tshirts and put them in a drawer. I had been worried about her, but she seemed better, or maybe I had just stopped paying attention.

“I know she thinks this Crushgirls stuff is funny,” Kelsey said, “but I don’t. And if she’s planning to do something around graduation, she’s going to get in real trouble.” She put a hand on her hip. “Did you ever look at the floor plans I left on your desk?” I looked at her blankly. “For the apartments my mom found. If we want to move in July, we have to choose one.”

“I know,” I said. “I will.” Connelly had just told me about a friend who was renting a room over his garage. I was planning to look at it tomorrow. We’d talked more about our plans for the summer, ideas for my story, which he thought could be a book. I could feel Kelsey watching me. I knew she needed an answer, but I didn’t have one.

“Isabel?” she said. “Are you even listening? What’s going on with you these days?”

Just then, Debra pushed open the door. “Whatcha talking about?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Where’s Crashy?”

“She split.” She plopped down on Kelsey’s bed, mussing the bedspread.

Kelsey frowned. “What are you guys up to?”

Debra folded her hands across her chest, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

“Come on, Debra,” I said. “Tell us.”

“Oh, my God, we have a great idea. It’s such a great idea. And Kelsey, we need your help to pull it off. You have a key to the art center, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Do you know if the sculpture of Eleazar Wilder is bolted to the floor?”

“Debra, what are you on about?” Kelsey asked.

“Okay, so get this: the night before graduation, we drag that old coot out into the middle of the green. A couple of guys from Agora have offered to help us, and Crashy has her Jeep. Normally I’d say no to male assistance, but this plan is too good.” She was practically vibrating as she described her plan, which involved spray-painting the words “womyn are everywhere” on the sculpture of Eleazar Wilder, founding father of Wilder College, then dragging it out into the middle of the green so that everyone—parents, faculty, alumni—would see it on their way to graduation. It would be, according to Debra, the greatest Crushgirls stunt ever, a way to show everyone that the patriarchy was toppling and the reign of women—womyn?—had begun. Or something like that. Honestly, the plan was poorly thought out and juvenile, not to mention derivative of previous Crushgirls stunts. I almost said as much, but it didn’t seem worth it. Kelsey looked outraged, but I just felt sad. Aside from being unfeasible and, most likely, criminal, Debra’s stunt wasn’t fun or clever. It was, I thought, beneath her.

“What do you think?” Debra asked.

“I think you’re out of your mind,” said Kelsey.

“Oh, you’re no fun.”

“Fun?” said Kelsey. “What’s fun about criminal mischief? What’s fun about getting arrested, or worse, not getting your diploma?”

“What about you, Izzy?” Debra said. “Are you in?”

“Debra, I don’t know. I think we’d get in real trouble for that. That piece is probably valuable. There are probably cameras, and alarms. Have you thought any of this through?” I wasn’t sure why I was fixating on the details, as if that was all that stood in the way of making this a good plan. “What if we planned something else? Banners, or we could spell out something on our caps? A message or something?”

“Lame,” Debra said.