Five Flavors of Dumb - Antony John [51]
It was a first-rate self-pitying line, and somewhat true. But he was going to have to do much better than that to throw me off the scent. “How much was it?”
“Not much. It was used.”
How much? I repeated, reverting to sharp signs and a fierce face so I could convey my seriousness without having to scream.
Still Finn hesitated, clearly deciding whether or not to lie. 750.
My mouth hung open in shock. I couldn’t make sense of any of it. Where are you getting all this money?
None of your business.
It is my business when I have to cover for you after school each day. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. Are you selling drugs?
No! At the mention of drugs, Finn looked like he was about to burst into tears. It’s from the poker games.
I’d have been less surprised if he’d told me he was growing a bumper crop of marijuana in his bedroom. True, Dad used to play poker with us all the time when we were younger. It was something he could do with me that didn’t involve speaking or signing, plus he liked winning. But when I switched to chess he bailed, saying a chess game was too great a time commitment. I’d figured that was the end of the Vaughan family’s poker playing days.
Or not.
When do you play poker?
Lunchtime, replied Finn, content to sign as long as it kept his secret under wraps. And we started playing after school too, because you made me wait while you rehearsed. Except Friday, when you made me go to the rehearsal. In a way, the whole thing is your fault.
I laughed, but inside I was utterly freaked out. You’ve really won a thousand dollars playing poker?
He clearly misread my surprise as admiration. Almost. I’m a lot better than everyone else.
And how does everyone else have hundreds of dollars to lose?
I don’t know. He laughed suddenly. Probably selling drugs.
I didn’t laugh. You’ve got to stop. You could get expelled.
“The thought had occurred to me,” he said out loud.
I sighed, “And that doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it? All the teachers hate me.”
“They wouldn’t if you’d try harder.”
“Yes, they would. Because no matter how hard I try, I’m not you. But we share a last name, so they’re all waiting for me to become class superstar. For as long as I’m there, they’ll compare me to you. And I’ll always fall short.”
“Do you want me to talk to them?”
“God, no! I just want you to admit I don’t fit in.”
“You were fitting in fine during lunch break today.”
Finn looked down, blushed. “What do you mean?”
“You, Kallie, Tash. Quite a cozy threesome.”
“We were just going over some stuff. That’s all.”
I smiled sweetly to irritate him. “But you’re still not really interested in Kallie, right?”
Finn’s shoulders slumped. “For the last time, no. I’m not interested.”
“Isn’t she hot enough for you?”
“I’m not talking about it anymore.”
Finn leaped up and hurried across the basement. But as he ran up the stairs, I caught him smiling too.
CHAPTER 32
Josh was last to arrive for Friday’s after-school rehearsal, sauntering in almost ten minutes late as though prearranged times were optional for Godlike lead singers.
“Glad you decided to join us,” I quipped, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
“I’m sure you are. You missed me, I get it,” he said, the famous Josh smile intact.
I almost rose to the bait, but managed to keep control. “I have news,” I said with forced enthusiasm. “Good news of the paying variety.”
Everyone looked up. Apparently, I had uttered the magic word that got their attention.
“The producer of Seattle Today wants us to appear on the show next Tuesday,” I explained. “We play one song, then do a brief interview.”
Will flicked away the curtains of hair obscuring his eyes and leaned forward in his chair. “Seattle Today is just a bunch of old women,” he droned, seemingly without engaging his face. “They’ll want something really boring.”
I was taken aback that Will was the one to complain. “Sure, they’d prefer a tame song,” I admitted. “And yes, it’s mostly old women. But right now, that’s your main audience.”
“That sucks.”
“Maybe so. But they’re paying . . . three hundred