Five Flavors of Dumb - Antony John [79]
I stole a moment to text Finn, begging him to meet me by the main doors at 2:15. I got the feeling I could benefit from a personal assistant, and Finn was uniquely qualified for the position.
Once we left the room, Baz flounced through the office toward the exit without so much as a good-bye. He was almost gone when the secretary looked up.
“Hello!” she shouted to get my attention. (A gentle wave would have been infinitely preferable.) “Aren’t you going to give your father a hug?” she asked indignantly.
Baz stopped and turned around. “Oh, good idea.”
My jaw fell open. “No way!”
“What has happened to you, Piper?” cried the secretary. “You used to be such a good girl.”
“Yeah, Piper,” Baz echoed. “What has happened to you?” The wicked glimmer in his eye had returned, and suddenly I had to keep from laughing.
I bit my lip. “Come on, then, you dirty old man.”
I stepped forward and smacked a kiss on Baz’s lips. He looked petrified. The secretary looked horrified. I felt vindicated.
“Run along now, Daddy,” I said.
Baz stumbled against a table on his way out, and tried pushing the door marked “pull” several times before correcting himself. He left without looking back.
I turned around in time to catch the secretary shaking her head. I could see her staring at my hair, weighing up my odd behavior, and realizing, at last, that maybe she’d been wrong about me all these years.
You and me both, I thought as I ambled back to suspension.
CHAPTER 43
I didn’t get out of suspension until 2:23. The principal wanted to read us the riot act one last time, and slowed down when he noticed how agitated I was. In an attempt to ram his point home with the utmost force, he even started lecturing directly to my hair. I let it go on for almost a minute, then began running my hands through my hair seductively, like an actress in a shampoo commercial. Almost immediately he turned bright red, and seconds later we’d been excused. I sprinted along the corridors and almost knocked Finn over as I turned toward the main entrance.
What’s the emergency? he signed.
We have a meeting with the manager of GBH.
Finn’s eyes grew wide. GBH? The band?
I nodded.
Can I get their autographs?
I’d rather you didn’t ask that until the negotiations are finished.
Negotiations?
They want Dumb to open for them on Saturday.
Finn looked as though he might pass out. So why am I here?
You’re my interpreter.
No! You can do this without me. Finn began to turn away, but I pulled him back around.
I need you, Finn. Not as an interpreter, but to buy me time. Please trust me. You’re my trump card.
Finn rolled his eyes, but when I took his hand he didn’t pull away. Together we walked outside and greeted Baz, who was loitering on the sidewalk. The manager for GBH stood beside him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other impatiently. He was older than I’d imagined, heavyset and balding, with a Bluetooth earpiece flashing neon and an ugly brown sports jacket with leather patches over the elbows. I couldn’t help thinking that as managers went, I looked much cooler than him.
“I’m Mike, and you’re late,” he barked.
I turned to Finn, who passed along the message in sign language.
“What’s this?” Mike asked, with curled upper lip.
“Piper’s deaf,” explained Baz. “I told you that.”
I smiled ambivalently, like I had no idea what was going on.
“Jesus Christ.” Mike rolled his eyes. “I thought you were joking.”
I already hated Mike, so once I’d pointed in the direction of a nearby picnic table, I walked unnecessarily quickly. I figured I’d at least get him sweating.
I sat down next to Finn and pulled my jacket collar tightly around my neck. The sky was blanketed in gray, one of those days when it feels like the previous night never completely ended. Mike and Baz sat down across from us and Mike removed his coat, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead.
“So you’re her translator?” Mike asked, pointing a stubby finger at Finn.
“Her interpreter.”
“Same difference. Well, start by telling her