Read Call the Shots Online

Authors: Don Calame

Tags: #Young Adult

Call the Shots (25 page)

Evelyn sighs. She weaves her arm into mine and leans into me as we walk. “Can’t you ask them to leave us alone?” she whispers.

“They’re my friends,” I whisper back. “I don’t want to hurt their feelings.”

I take a furtive glance at the clock above the mall directory. I’ve got one minute to somehow ditch Evelyn and get over to DeLuca’s to meet up with Leyna.

How the hell am I going to pull
that
one off?

“A
NYTHING YOU WANT.”
Evelyn’s right hand sweeps out toward the mall like Willy Wonka presenting his scrumdiddlyumptious chocolate room. “My treat. Money’s no object.”

“Seriously, Evelyn,” I say, “this isn’t necessary.”

“You promised you’d let me do this for you.”

“But there’s nothing I want.”

“You haven’t even looked. Come on, let’s go in here.” Evelyn peels off and goes into Banana Republic.

I turn and glare at Coop. “What now, Einstein?”

“Dude, take a pill.” He glances at Evelyn, who’s pawing the sweaters on a display table in the store. “We just need to rejig a little. Let me think a minute.”

“I don’t
have
a minute.” My jaw is clenched so tight I feel like my teeth might shatter. “I’m supposed to be at DeLuca’s
right now.
How am I supposed to get away?”

“Okay, okay.” Coop scrubs his hand over his face. “Matt. You need to keep Evelyn here for, like, twenty minutes while we go to the coffee shop.”

Matt’s eyes nearly flop from their sockets. “What? How? What am I supposed to say?”

“Tell her Sean wants the gift to be a surprise.” Coop grabs my arm and starts pulling me away. “And that you’ll help her pick out the perfect thing.”

“But . . . What . . . I don’t . . .” Matt stammers, his head on a swivel, looking from us to the store and then back to us again. “Don’t do this to me!”

“It’ll be fine,” Coop calls over his shoulder, shoving me toward the nearest exit. “We have complete faith in you. Meet you back here in twenty!”

“I hate you!” Matt calls, defeated.

Coop flashes him a smile just as he yanks me out the door.

“Where are we going?” I say. “DeLuca’s is in the mall.”

“We’re taking the outside route,” Coop explains. “Just in case Evelyn decides she wants to come after us. She’ll look in nearby stores, not outside.”

“Good idea.”

Coop grins, a twinkle in his eye. “It’s the only kind I have.”

We start jogging down the sidewalk. The outside air is crisp and frosty. Tiny puffs of steam escape our lips as we dodge the winter-coat-clad shoppers with their bags and carts.

The perimeter of the mall is hunormous. We run for what seems like forever, passing the Gap, Toys“R” Us, the movie theater, and T. J. O’Halligans before we make the turn around the corner of Wal-Mart. My legs and lungs are burning, and I’ve actually started perspiring.

I’m so hot that I have to take off my coat and tie it around my waist so that I don’t drench my fancy shirt in sweat. The cold air feels good on my body, cooling me down, drying my skin.

We’re jogging by a graffiti-tagged dumpster when Coop reaches into his pants pocket and takes out his phone.

“Text from Matt,” he says, slowing down to a walk so he can read it. “Evelyn loves the idea of surprising you.” He’s huffing and puffing and trying to catch his breath. “She’s got him imprisoned in the changing room right now trying on a whole whack of shirts.” Coop snaps his phone shut and slides it back into his coat pocket. “What’d I tell you? We’re golden, dawg.”

For the first time, I start to believe that this crazy plan just might work. “How close are we to DeLuca’s?” I ask.

“Not sure,” he says, starting to jog again. “Let’s duck in the next set of doors.”

I break into a trot right behind him, my feet lifting from the pavement in a rhythmic ease. Your Jedi Master is on his way, Princess Leyna!

As we pass the loading docks and round the corner, I see the
SOUTH ENTRANCE
sign up ahead.

“There,” Coop says. “Let’s go.”

We pick up our pace, making a beeline toward the doors. I can almost make out the writing on the glass when I hear a loud feathery fluttering overhead followed immediately by a heavy, wet, rain-patter sound on the sidewalk all around me.

In the same instant, I feel a splatter of something warm and gloppy on my head.

And shoulders.

And all over my torso.

I skid to a halt, my stunned brain struggling to compute the meaning of the thick gobs of white and purple that spackle the pavement in front of me. It’s not until the shitty-sweet smell assaults my nose that I am struck with the full realization of what’s just happened.

“Coop!” I shout, holding my drenched arms out to the sides, not wanting to look down at myself.

“Dude,” he calls out over his shoulder, “come on! Stop screwing around.”

“Oh, God.” I stand there stiff as a scarecrow, feeling the wet leaching through my clothes. Trying not to breathe in the thick bird-crappy stench that envelopes me. “We have a problem here!”

Coop whips around. “Would you stop your —? Oh,
Jesus
!” He starts walking toward me in slow motion, his horrified expression almost more than I can bear.

“Is it that bad? Please tell me it’s not that bad.”

He bursts out laughing. “Christ, dawg! What the hell
is
that?”

“It’s shit, Coop. A bird shat on me.” My splattered clothes feel heavy and clammy against my skin.

“Bird? More like a pterodactyl.” Coop snorts. He cups his hand over his nose. “
Fuuuck
me. It reeks!”

“Does it, Coop? Does it really? I hadn’t noticed.” Tiny globs of guano fly off me as I shake with rage. “We need to wash it off. Like,
now.

“Dude, you’re head to foot,” he says, cracking up. “There’s no washing this off.”

“But . . . I have to meet Leyna. You said so yourself! If I stand her up, she’ll never forgive me.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not gonna be too pleased if you show up smelling like ostrich anus, either.” He busts up once again.

“So then what? What are we gonna do about it? There has to be something. Think. You’re the guy with all the plans.”

“Dude,” Coop says, trying to compose himself. He sniffles and wipes the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I don’t think you understand the severity of the sitch here. Not even the Coopster can work the kind of miracle you’d need. I’m sorry, but this mission is over and out.”

“N
O,” I SAY, LOWERING MY ARMS
slowly as my muscles quit on me at last. “I refuse to accept that. You got me into this. You need to help figure something out.”

“Okay, okay, just hold on a sec. Let me think.” Coop studies the heavens as though praying for inspiration. “All right,” he says at last. “Take off your clothes.”

“What? No. Why?”

“Look, dawg, you wanted a plan. Here is a plan. Your current togs are totally tainted, unsalvageable. I’m gonna pool our resources and get you some new threads. But in the meantime, you need to shuck off the shit-shirt before that bird crap soaks into your skin and completely contaminates you. If that happens, it won’t matter what new duds I scrounge up because the stink will leak right through them.”

I glance down at myself for the first time, surveying the damage. It’s even worse than I thought. My entire shirt, most of my jacket, and even my pants are saturated. But I shake my head. “I don’t care. There’s no way I’m taking my clothes off out here.”

Coop swivels his head. “Look, we’ll head back to that dumpster,” he says, nodding toward the Wal-Mart. “You can hide behind it till I’m back. It’ll be three minutes, tops.”

“My hair’s completely covered in crap too, so what’s it matter if I take off my clothes?”

“It
matters.
We can wash your hair in the bathroom sink. We can’t give you a full sponge bath. We’re wasting time here, boss. Leyna’s not going to wait for you forever. I’d say we’ve got around fifteen minutes before ‘casually late’ becomes a big F-you.”

“Just go tell her I can’t make it. Say I came down with the flu or something.”

“Bird flu,” Coop says with a laugh. “Sorry.” He sobers his expression. “Look, if you really want to blow your only shot with your dream girl, that’s fine.”

“Isn’t there any other —?”

“Dude!”
Coop roars. “With every second you bitch and moan, the shit particles are seeping deeper and deeper into your pores.”

“Can’t we at least go into the mall bathroom so I can hide in a stall?”

“Right. Sure. And risk running into Leyna? Or Evelyn? Or anyone else from our school? Looking like you were just shot from a whale’s vagina?” He sweeps his hand up and down. “You really want to take that chance?”

I throw my head back and groan in frustration. “Cripes. Okay. Fine.”

We trudge back behind Wal-Mart and duck behind the dumpster.

I unbutton my shirt with the tips of my fingers, careful not to touch the gloppy guano. It really does reek to holy hell. I slip the shirt off and let it slop to the pavement. The cold air stings my bare chest as I reach for my coat, which is balled up on the ground.

Coop steps on it. “No, sir. That’s slathered too.”

I wrap my arms around my naked shivering torso. “It’s cold.”

“Tough testicli. Deal with it.”

“Give me yours, then.”

“Uh, yeah, I don’t think so.” He runs his hand down the sleeve of his bomber jacket. “This is genuine leatherette, dawg. I just got this bad boy for Christmas. I’m not about to have it contaminated with bird squat. Go huddle in that doorway over there. It’ll be warmer.”

I glance over at the blue
WAL-MART EMPLOYEES ONLY
door just a few yards away.

“No way. Someone might drive by and see me. Or come out for a smoke.”

“Don’t be such a wet tampon. Have you seen a single car drive by? And who the hell’s going to take their cigarette break by a dumpster? Get real. You’re safe and sound. Besides, I’m only going to be a minute. I’ll grab the first thing I see.”

“Fine,” I say. “But if I freeze to death, you’ll be the one who’ll have to explain it to my mother.”

He sighs loudly. “Okay, you infant. You can have my coat. But not before you remove those beshitted jeans. I don’t want you getting any splooge on my brand-new hide.”

“Thank you.” I gingerly pinch my wallet and phone from my front pockets, then unbutton my jeans and let them drop to my ankles. Finally, I kick them off over my sneakers. “There,” I say. “Happy?”

Coop laughs, pointing at my four-leaf-clover boxers. “Those your lucky underpants?”

“And what if they are?”

“How they working out for you?”

“Eat me, okay?”

Coop squats down and pinches up my crappy clothes. “You owe me for this, boss. Big-time.” He flings the whole bird-shitty mess into the dumpster, then slips out of his bomber.

I snatch the jacket from him and quickly pull it on, hugging myself to try and get warm.

“All right.” Coop thrusts his hand out. “How much cash do you have?”

I open my wallet and pluck out the lone bill that’s there.

“Ten bucks?” He grimaces. “For a pair of pants and a shirt? They don’t have a Salvation Army in the mall, dude.”

“It’s all I brought,” I say, through chattering teeth. “Don’t you have some money? I can pay you back later.”

“Unfortunately I’m a little light right now.” He plucks the ten from my fingers. “I’ll see how far I can stretch this. Maybe Wal-Mart’s having a sale. What’s your size? Dwarf?”

“Short jokes? Now?” I crouch down, rubbing my bare legs. “Like I’m not humiliated enough here already?”

“Fine, I’ll guesstimate,” he says, turning to go.

“Hurry,” I say.

“No prob,” he calls over his shoulder as he jogs away. “Be back ASAP. You won’t even have time to miss me.”

I turn and lean my head against the dumpster. I guess if you have to be half-naked in public, this is the place to do it. With nobody around to see you and a nice big dumpster to hide behind.

Five minutes go by. Ten. Twelve. What the hell’s taking him so long? I just hope we make it in time to catch Leyna. And that she’s not too pissed that I’m so late. Maybe Coop can help me concoct a brilliant excuse — something that makes me seem selfless and maybe even a little heroic. Maybe I was resuscitating a cat that was hit by a car. Or maybe I should just tell her about the birds. She might find it funny. And feel sorry for me. And offer me a consoling, passionate kiss.

Other books

The Apostate by Jack Adler
Joe College: A Novel by Tom Perrotta
Doc Featherstone's Return by Stephani Hecht
Loving Che by Ana Menendez
Grimoire Diabolique by Edward Lee
Ring of Fire III by Eric Flint
The Book of Speculation by Erika Swyler