Page 7 of The Wrong Girl


  I watched part of Manny’s video again. Then I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and drove toward River Road. No, I hadn’t planned to go by Poppy’s house. That’s just the direction I chose. I didn’t really know where I was going.

  I wished I had someone to share the video with, someone to laugh about it with and talk to about how dumb everyone was. But I didn’t. I was alone. And I ended up at Harlow’s Pic ’n’ Pay just before River Road starts to curve up from the river. Sometimes Harlow lets me buy a beer without carding me. He’s a good old guy.

  I parked in the little lot in back and stepped in through the back door. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the lights. Harlow keeps the store extra-bright because he thinks it will discourage robbers. Good luck with that.

  He was behind the glass counter in front pulling up some lottery tickets for an old couple. I started toward the beer fridges and bumped into a tall, skinny guy with a floor mop and bucket.

  “Hey—” My eyes were still adjusting, and I almost didn’t see him.

  He had greasy brown hair down over his forehead and funny eyes, dark eyes that seemed to be darting around all the time, like they were nervous. He had a silver ring in one ear and a silvery nose ring, and he wore a plain sleeveless white T-shirt over low, baggy jeans that looked like they’d drop to the floor at any second.

  “How’s it going?” he said, leaning on the mop handle.

  “Not bad.” I realized I’d seen him before. “You go to Shadyside?”

  He shook his head. “Dropped out last year. Couldn’t take any more. You know?”

  I tried to edge past him, but the soapy bucket was in the way. “So you work here?” I asked.

  “Yeah. And a couple other places. Maintenance work. You know.”

  “Maintenance work?”

  “Yeah. I mop up and stuff. I’m Lucas. Lucas Smith.”

  “Keith Carter,” I said.

  I glanced to Mr. Harlow at the front. He was just shooting the breeze with the old couple while they scratched off their tickets. I turned back to Lucas. “Do you think I could get a beer?”

  He propped the mop against the wall. “Yeah. No problem. I’ll get you one.” He motioned with his head to a small back room. I stepped inside. It was narrow and dimly lit. Stacks of soda and beer cases on one wall. Shelves of cleaning supplies.

  Lucas brought me a Bud and I twisted off the cap. “Thanks, man.” I dropped onto a narrow wooden stool and took a long sip. It felt good on my throat. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it.

  Poppy suddenly flashed into my mind. I don’t know why she kept showing up in my thoughts. I chuckled, thinking about how shocked she would be to see me drinking a beer.

  She didn’t know me at all. And she didn’t care enough to find out.

  I took another long slug of the Bud. Lucas and I talked for a while. He’d dropped out of school last year because his dad had left, and his family needed the money. He now did janitor-like work in three or four stores, and he said it paid him enough to get by.

  He pulled a cigarette from a crinkled pack and offered the pack to me. “Smoke?”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t.”

  He lit it with a plastic lighter and took a long drag. “You should. It’s very relaxing. Seriously.”

  I watched him take another long puff. The smoke curled around his face. “You know they’re not good for you, right?” I said.

  He snickered. “Doctors don’t know everything.”

  I shrugged. “Whatever.” I finished my beer, thanked him, and climbed to my feet. I stopped at the doorway to the little back room. “What do you do for fun?” I asked him.

  The question made him blush. His cheeks turned bright pink. A strange, lopsided smile spread across his face. “I like to follow girls around the store,” he said. “You know. I’m a stalker.” And then he burst out laughing. This crazy laugh. It just erupted from his chest.

  I thought he was joking. I couldn’t really tell. So I just ignored what he said. Maybe I should have taken him seriously. I don’t know. Maybe I should have warned someone about him.

  Later, in my room with the door locked, I cut a little deeper than usual. The knife dug into my shoulder. But I didn’t feel it at all. I was pretending to cut Poppy.

  Cut cut.

  It was her that I wanted to hurt.

  17

  Poppy Continues the Story

  “Do you want fries with that?”

  The guy pretended to think about it. I knew him and his friend from school. They’re on the Shadyside Tigers basketball team and they think they’re hot stuff. Wilson Teague and LeShaun Jenks. Actually, they are hot stuff.

  “Can I have onion rings instead?” LeShaun asked, waving the menu at me.

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  Wilson grinned up at me. “Can I have half fries, half onion rings?”

  No way Lefty would do that. I grabbed the menu from him. “You’re pulling my chain, right?”

  They both laughed.

  I saw Ivy and Jeremy walk into the restaurant. They took a booth near the kitchen. I started away from the table, then turned back to the two guys. “I forgot. How do you want your cheeseburgers?”

  “Cooked?”

  “On a plate?”

  I frowned at them. “You guys are a riot.”

  They both laughed again. “You’re looking good, Poppy,” Wilson said. “You still hanging with Keith?”

  “Keith is history,” I said. I saw Lefty watching me from the kitchen. Waitresses weren’t supposed to have conversations at the tables. Lefty had listed all his rules for me when I’d started two days before. It was a pretty long list. I remembered most of them, I thought.

  Lefty pounded the bell on the counter. That meant there were cheeseburger plates ready to be picked up. I tore the guys’ order off my pad and handed it to Lefty. Then I hurried to deliver the plates.

  Kat Martin, the other waitress on the early evening shift, had called in sick. So I was doing the whole restaurant. It wasn’t a hard job, but it kept me moving nonstop.

  It was cool in the restaurant. Lefty already had the air-conditioner going, even though it was only April. But I kept mopping beads of sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. And the black-and-yellow cap with the big L on the front that Lefty makes us wear as part of our uniform was making my hair itch.

  I took orders at two more tables and refilled water glasses around the room. Then I walked over to Ivy and Jeremy’s booth. They were holding hands across the tabletop and, for a brief moment, I felt a pang—of loneliness, I guess.

  Jack hadn’t been around much. We texted each other, and he called once to tell me about something he was scheming. But since the car accident disaster, he had made himself pretty scarce.

  “Poppy, tell me again why you’re working here?” Ivy said, letting go of Jeremy’s hands.

  “Because I love cheeseburgers,” I said. She knew perfectly well why I had to take this job. After the car prank, Mom had said I had to have an after-school job to show that I could be a responsible person. She said I had to keep the job all summer. So here I was, a block from school, waitressing at the home of the two-dollar double cheeseburger.

  Ivy sighed. “You got off easy, you know. My parents aren’t letting me take that modeling course in New York. They made me call them up and cancel it. I have to stay in Shadyside and be a nanny to my two cousins in North Hills.”

  “Oh, wow,” I murmured. “That’s harsh.”

  Ivy’s eyes teared up. “My life is ruined, and all because of a bad joke.”

  “I had an internship lined up at the summer theater at the Town Center,” I said.

  I didn’t want Ivy to think that she was the only one whose life was ruined. I guess I’m more competitive than I thought. Or maybe I just wanted to share the misery around.

  I turned to Jeremy. “You haven’t said a word.”

  He shrugged. “I had an allergy shot this morning, and I’m feeling kind o
f weird.”

  Lefty rang the bell. I saw Wilson’s and LeShaun’s food on the counter. I carried it to them and wrote out a check for the table behind theirs. Then I came back to Ivy and Jeremy.

  “Can you two come to my house when my shift is over? Jack said he’d come by because he has something to talk to us about.”

  “Oh, no. Not another prank,” Jeremy said, shaking his head.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little soon?” Ivy said. “Maybe we should slack off for a while. Like maybe twenty years or so?”

  “I know where you’re coming from,” I said. “But Jack says he has an awesome idea that can’t go bad.”

  Ivy and Jeremy both started talking at once, but I didn’t hear them. My eyes were on the restaurant door, where two girls had just walked in. The bright sunlight through the glass door kept me from recognizing them immediately. But then my eyes focused and I saw Rose Groban looking around for an empty table. And standing beside her . . . my sister?

  “What is Heather doing with Rose?”

  Ivy and Jeremy both turned to look at them. I hadn’t realized I’d said those words out loud. Lefty was pounding the bell, but I couldn’t stop staring at the two of them.

  They sat down across from each other at the table closest to the door. Rose wore a long-sleeved top, a bright magenta color, over a short black skirt. My sister was drab as usual, in a red-and-gray Shadyside High jersey and jeans with ragged holes at both knees. I recognized the blue flip-flops she kept kicking the table legs with. They were mine.

  “They don’t usually hang together, do they?” Ivy said.

  “Not usually,” I replied. “See you two later?” I didn’t wait for an answer. I turned and made my way to the front booth.

  Has Heather made a new friend?

  She knows how much I detest Rose.

  What is she plotting?

  I couldn’t keep the questions from whirring in my mind as I stepped up to them. But I took a breath and forced myself to play it cool. “Hey, what’s up?”

  Rose forced a smile. “Hey, Poppy.”

  I stared at Heather. She knew I needed an explanation.

  “Rose is giving me acting lessons,” she announced. “She thinks I show promise.”

  Rose grinned at me, flashing her perfect teeth. “Maybe you’d like to join us. We could have our own acting seminar.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said quietly.

  “But that could be so much fun,” Rose gushed. “And we could really give Heather a tutorial on everything we’ve learned.”

  I kept myself from strangling her. “I’m kind of busy,” I muttered.

  Of course, I knew what was going on here. Rose was trying to make me look like a bad sister. But come on. No way I’d encourage Heather to join the Drama Club. She had no talent. Not the tiniest spark. So Rose was stepping right in and giving Heather the attention and the support she couldn’t get from me.

  Rose still had that phony smile on her face. “You look awesome, Poppy,” she said. “That uniform suits you. Seriously. The black and the yellow . . . The yellow really brings out your features.”

  Nasty. But I wasn’t going to fall into any trap. I just gave her a fake smile back. “How was the play, Rose?” Of course, I knew the answer.

  “Unfortunately, we had to postpone it,” Rose said. “But we’re going to perform it for the whole school in a few weeks, so you’ll get to see it.” She and Heather shared a glance. “It was postponed because of your accident,” Rose said. “Did they ever figure out whose fault it was?”

  I shook my head. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just an accident.”

  Rose put her hands together, like she was praying. “Poppy, I’m just so grateful you weren’t hurt.”

  What a laugh.

  Heather kept this solemn look on her face, as if she believed Rose was being sincere. I wanted to puke. Really.

  I raised my pad. “What can I get you?”

  They ordered double cheeseburgers. Rose asked for hers to be rare. And Heather asked for rare, too. I squinted at her. She had never wanted a rare burger before in her life. Was she just trying to impress Rose?

  How pitiful was that?

  I put in their order. I took care of a couple of other tables. All the while, I kept my eyes on Rose and Heather. They were laughing together, both talking at once, both very animated and enthusiastic. As if they were best buds.

  It was all so clear. Rose was trying to grab my sister away. Another round in this endless competition she and I had. And then, of course, she’d act totally innocent and naive and pretend she didn’t know what any of the fuss was about.

  And poor Heather. My sister was so desperate for attention, I could see she was eating this up. Her normally sickly pale skin was pink and vibrant, and her dull, almost colorless eyes were actually alive behind her glasses.

  So totally sad.

  I could feel the anger burning my chest. This was such a Rose move. And I knew that when she got bored playing this game, she would drop Heather in a heartbeat.

  Oh, well. What could I do about it? I could imagine the furious reaction I’d get from Heather if I told her that Rose was only using her to get to me. I knew that would be a mistake, a mistake that could lead to World War III between us.

  The bell rang, startling me. I was standing right in front of the counter. I picked up the two plates with the rare cheeseburgers and carried them across the restaurant to Rose and Heather.

  They were giggling together about something but stopped when I approached. Heather had a guilty smile on her face. She knew she was hanging with Rose just to mess with me.

  I was determined to show her that I didn’t care at all. Whatever. Heather thought she had a great victory over me right now, but it couldn’t be a victory if I didn’t play along—if I didn’t get angry.

  My problem is, I have a totally obvious face. Whatever I’m feeling or thinking shows up there instantly.

  I was seriously steamed that Heather would pull this kind of stunt. The anger was just bubbling hot inside me.

  But I gritted my teeth, stepped up to their table and set the plates down. “Here you go. Anything else I can get you?”

  Heather kept her eyes on Rose. Rose stared down at her cheeseburger. When she finally raised her eyes, her mouth was twisted in a scowl.

  “Anything wrong?” I asked. I could hear my voice go shrill.

  “I asked for mine without a bun,” Rose said.

  “Huh?” I gaped at her. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did,” she insisted. “I said rare with no bun.”

  I could feel all the muscles in my body tightening. “I didn’t hear that.” I turned to my sister. “Did you hear her say no bun?”

  Heather blushed. “I don’t remember.”

  She’s useless.

  I could see Lefty watching me from behind the counter. I turned back to Rose. “Well, just remove the bun, Rose. Take it off.”

  She brushed back her hair. “I don’t want to do that. I asked for no bun.”

  “But, Rose—”

  “If a bun is on the plate, I’ll be tempted to eat it,” Rose said.

  My heart was suddenly pounding. Was I really having this discussion? Anyone else in the world would simply remove the cheeseburger from the bun and not even think of making a fuss about it.

  “I don’t mean to be difficult,” she said, “but can you take it back and bring me one without the bun?”

  “I can do better than that,” I said in a tight voice I barely recognized. I reached down to her plate and removed the top half of the bun from her cheeseburger. I placed the top half on the table. Then I picked up the cheeseburger from the bottom and smashed it as hard as I could into her face.

  18

  Poppy Continues

  I pushed hard, watching the cheese spread over her cheeks. The tomato slid down the top of her magenta shirt, and when I pulled my hand back, the rest of the cheeseburger plopped onto her lap.

&n
bsp; Rose didn’t react at first. Then her eyes bulged and her mouth opened wide, and she let out a shrill, angry scream that sounded like the wail of an ambulance siren.

  Everyone in the restaurant turned to watch as she bolted up from her seat and, still screaming, wrapped her hands around my throat, and tried to pull me over the table.

  Heather was screaming now and struggling to get out of her seat as the table came crashing down, plates and glasses clattering, water puddling. Rose and I landed on top of it. She still had her stranglehold on my neck, and I was struggling to shove her arms away. We were wrestling and squirming over each other. The shouts of customers in the restaurant drowned out my groans and cries of pain.

  And then Lefty’s voice broke through the noise. He was standing in the middle of the restaurant, his head tilted to one side like a parrot, his chef’s cap in one hand, waving a metal spatula in the other.

  Then he gathered a breath and bellowed in a tone I did not know he possessed, “Poppy!”

  Everything froze. Everything and everyone. And the big room grew silent. Rose’s fingers slipped from my throat, and she fell back onto the floor and seemed to deflate like a balloon losing its air.

  Lefty pointed the spatula at me. “Can I see you for a minute?”

  Gasping for breath, I scrambled off Rose and turned to Lefty. “Am I—am I fired?”

  Lefty narrowed his eyes at me. “Three guesses.”

  “Rose is ruining my life,” I moaned. “I know what you’re going to say. She and I have been enemies since time began. But now it’s different.”

  Manny had his flip-flops off, bare feet on the coffee table. He leaned back in the big leather armchair and laughed. “Poppy, I didn’t know you were training for the WWE. You and Rose! A steel-cage match. We could take bets. Maybe put it on our YouTube channel.”

  I was on the couch across from Manny. I kicked his feet. “You’re about as funny as stomach cramps. I’m being serious here. She tried to strangle me. Look at my neck. You can see her fingerprints on my skin.”

  “I think maybe you started it,” Jeremy said. He and Ivy sat cross-legged on the carpet at the other end of the couch. “You know. Shoving a cheeseburger into her face.”