Shine - Lauren Myracle [37]
Worse crimes? Oka-a-a-y, that was interesting. As Dupree got up, I pulled a napkin from the dispenser. I folded it into smaller and smaller squares as he made a big deal out of dusting himself off, righting his chair, and sitting back down. This time he planted all four legs on the floor.
“Um, y’all are freaks,” I remarked, careful with my tone. I was just a normal, everyday girl scoffing at how ridiculous boys were when they got all macho.
“Whoa,” Dupree said. “You don’t see me going around tossing people on their asses, do you?”
“I don’t usually hear guys using the term ‘party pooper,’ either,” I said. “Unless they’re five.”
Beef snorted. His breathing had grown more regular, and I felt like it was maybe safe to go on.
I set down my folded-up napkin. To Dupree, I said, “You ran out of beer, so you went to the Come ’n’ Go?”
“That is correct,” Dupree said stiffly. He sounded like a schoolmarm, but his primness was so deliberate that it crossed over into being a joke. “Patrick’s shift was almost over. We sweet-talked him into leaving early.”
Beef rolled his eyes. I could see that Dupree was pleased, and I was, too. We were one more step back toward normal.
“Then what?” I said. “Did y’all head back to the Frostee Top?”
“Nah, we decided to take the party on the road.” He appraised me from the waist up. “You are looking mighty fine, by the way. Why don’t you party with us no more? What possible reason could a lady as fine as you have for breaking the hearts of two handsome bucks”—he thumped his chest—“like us?”
The thumping stirred up some indigestion, or possibly smoker’s phlegm, and Dupree fell into a coughing fit. He tugged a napkin from the dispenser, spit into it, and examined the contents.
“It’s baffling,” I said.
“We picked up Patrick, and we went to Suicide Rock,” Beef told me as if he just wanted to get this over with. Suicide Rock was a clearing deep in Pisgah Forest, where the river widened and created an awesome swimming hole. It was good for partying when people were sick of the Frostee Top, because it was far enough off Route 34 that only locals knew of it.
“What’d you do up there?”
“Nothing,” he said. “We drank some more and then we went home. Same as I told the cops. All right, Cat?”
“Fine,” I said. I’d hoped we’d gotten past the angry spell, but his jaw was sharp. These new moods of his made me miss my chick-fuzz Beef. “I’m not accusing you of anything, you know.”
“Feels like you are.”
“Well, I’m not. I just want to find the bastard who went after Patrick.”
“I hear that,” Dupree said. There was something false in his tone, and I turned toward him. He was staring straight at me, his stoner’s glaze replaced by a sly intelligence I’d hadn’t known he possessed.
“Why?” Beef said.
I was startled. “Huh?”
“Why do you care? You haven’t hung out with Patrick in years.”
“Yeah, but he’s still my friend.”
“Oh, really? Since when?” He radiated hostility, and this time it was aimed squarely at me. “When’s the last time you hung out with your good friend Patrick, huh?”
My body grew hot, and I hated him. I’d never in my life hated Beef, but I did then. A lump lodged in my throat, and I knew what would come next if I didn’t watch out. So I used a trick I taught myself years ago, which was to turn myself off on the inside. There was a girl sitting at a table, and that girl was me, but the switch had been flipped and I didn’t feel anything anymore. I could put on a show of being a real girl, but I was somewhere else.
“So you partied at Suicide Rock,” I said, as if reading the words off an index card. I looked at Beef, but at the same time not. “You, Patrick, Dupree, and Tommy. My brother. Bailee Ann and Robert.” I paused. “Who drove? How’d everyone fit?”
“Now, Robert didn’t come with us up into the forest,” Dupree clarified. “Patrick made him go home.”
Good for Patrick. Of course he’d be the one to show a lick of sense.
“But Bailee-Ann had her pickup, so we had plenty of room,” he continued. “Tommy rode