All the Inside Howling (Hollow Folk #2)(4)

“All right,” she said, pointing a finger at me, “explain.”

“Explain what?” I rubbed my ear. “What the hell is going on? All night, everybody’s been looking at me like, I don’t know, like I killed somebody.”

Tossing her hair back, Becca dug out a pack of cigarettes and lit up. The ember at the tip glowed the same color as the sodium lamp, faded, and glowed again. Puffing out smoke, she shook her head in the same kind of disgusted amazement that Miguel had shown earlier.

“Is it worse,” she said, dragging on the cigarette again, “if you know or if you don’t?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “How can I know? I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”

Exhaling through her nostrils, she looked a bit like a dragon, and the silver eyeshadow sparked like it was plugged into a wall socket. When she spoke, she marked each word by tapping the cigarette’s tip against the Dumpster. “It’s. His. Birthday.”

“What? Whose—oh. Shit.” A sick feeling flooded through me, the kind of dizzying, empty-your-stomach rush like the world had flipped upside down and any minute my feet were about to come unglued from the pavement. It was Austin’s birthday. How could I not know it was my boyfriend’s birthday?

Becca rolled her eyes. “I told Kimmy. I told her you weren’t enough of an ass to know and not do anything.”

“I—”

“I told her you were an ass, a huge dumb-ass, dumb enough not to know. But not so much of an ass that you’d know and not do something.”

“Thanks. Thanks so much. Can you put that in writing?”

For the first time that night, she cracked a dry smile. “Well?”

“Well, I’m screwed. Totally.”

“The day’s not over, lover-boy.”

“No, it’s not that. We—” My face heated, and I kicked a flattened Bighorn Burger cup. It rasped against the asphalt as the wind skated it towards the street.

“Oh, Jesus. What did you do?”

Now my face really was on fire, and hot prickles had started along my collarbone, under my arms, and down my back. I shrugged. “He wouldn’t let up, just kept going on and on about skipping work, coming over for dinner, and I . . .”

When I didn’t finish, Becca let out a long sigh. “You are not screwed,” she said, twisting the cigarette around to eye the tip before returning it to the pack. “You are fucked.”

“I am. I am totally, truly fucked. I didn’t even call him on my break. I forgot.”

“See? You’re not totally fucked. You’re also an ass. A huge, colossal dumb-ass.”

“I’m also an ass,” I repeated.

“Not to worry,” she said, grabbing me by both arms like she was afraid I was going to puddle on the floor. “I can definitely put that in writing.”





Damage control step one: the phone call. I didn’t have a phone, so I called from the payphone. Normally, I would have asked Sara to use the phone in her office, but she was his aunt, and all of the sudden I realized why Sara had seemed off all night. So I dropped in two quarters and dialed his cell, and it rang eight times before going to voicemail. I dialed again, and this time it cut off after three rings. I dialed again. One ring. One, that’s all, and I heard his dopey message again: “This is Austin, I’m probably busy being awesome.”

A sharp pain radiated from the center of my chest, like a piece of steel as thick of my wrist had punched straight through me. With every failed phone call, the pain intensified, and pressure built on my chest like a screw being tightened. I couldn’t explain it, I couldn’t even wrap words around it, but I had to talk to Austin. I had to talk to him. I had to talk to him now.

“I need your phone,” I told Becca. “That one’s not working.”

She just gave me a sad, knowing look. “I don’t think it’s the phone, Vie.”

“He’s not answering because he’s pissed,” Kimmy screeched. Her braces flashed and snapped, and she had a viciously triumphant grin.

Angel, in the process of taking off her apron, just shook her long, dark hair, snapped the apron taut, and then snapped it again. Hard, loud, angry snaps.

“Maybe he doesn’t recognize the number,” I said. I needed to talk to him. I had to talk to him. Mr. Big Empty was coming, and the world was collapsing around me like wet origami, and I needed to talk to Austin. If I could talk to him, I could still make everything ok. “Give me your phone.”

Becca put a hand on my chest. “Take a breath.”

“Don’t do that. I’m fine.”

“Just take a breath.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me.”

Kimmy squawked, but Becca waved the younger girl to silence.

I ignored the protest. “Are you going to let me use your phone or not?”

Without a word, Becca dug out her phone, unlocked it, and handed it to me. I dialed. On the second ring, Austin’s voice said, “This is Austin, I’m probably busy—”

I punched the end call icon and slammed the phone on the counter. Becca’s features tightened, and she grabbed the phone and turned her back on me, but I was too angry to care. He was ignoring me. I was trying to make things better and he was ignoring me. As I turned to go back to the kitchen, Sara poked her head out of her office.