“No bloodshed,” I said. “Just a few tears.”
“Trina’s, I assume?” Alex said.
“No. Gilly’s. Max’s buddy. She had a meltdown at the museum.”
“Ah,” Alex said. “Kids and their crying. You couldn’t pay me enough to babysit.”
I yawned. “Kids are cool. You just have to get in their headspace and it all works out. I tried to explain that to Trina, but she totally freaked out, like I was questioning her existence or something.”
Alex laughed. “You tried to tell Trina how to improve her nanny skills? I’m surprised there wasn’t bloodshed.”
“Yeah.” I remembered her face in the gift shop. She’d definitely wanted to draw blood. And that whole “playboy” comment… I shifted on my towel, unable to get comfortable. “She’s not exactly the tooth fairy, dude,” I said. “She’s more like…I don’t know…a rampaging devil pixie.”
“Hmm. Like I said, Tinker Bell. Cute, but possibly psychotic.”
I glanced at him. “What?”
He rolled his eyes. “Did you not read Peter Pan as a kid? Or at least see the cartoon? Tinker Bell. Insanely jealous. Sort of psycho.”
“I don’t think Trina’s jealous of me, but she’s definitely psycho.” I took a long swig from my soda. “I may as well pay up on the bet now. There’s no way I can get her to relax.”
Alex laughed. “The summer is young, my friend. Let’s wait and see what happens.”
I shrugged. “Whatever,” I said, distracted by the tall, gorgeous blonde who winked at me before she dove into the pool.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so judgmental,” Alex said. “Maybe she has some official tight-ass disease.” He snorted. “TAD.”
The blonde swam to our side of the pool and leaned her arms on the edge, smiling right at me.
I was done talking about Bird Brain. As far as I was concerned, things between us were strictly business, and I was off the clock until Wednesday.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I said to the blonde. “Swim here often?”
Chapter Six
Trina
Monday, June 3
I made a beeline for the mall right after I lied and told Mrs. Forrester the day had been great. I don’t know why I bothered, since Gillian would tell her mom how I’d been mean to Mr. Perfect Nanny.
At least I could decompress with my best friend, I told myself as I navigated all the stroller moms and spastic middle schoolers.
Dressed in her uniform—a paper chef hat and sailor blouse with red bow tie—Desi glared daggers at me as I stood in line at the pretzel place. I knew she was paranoid that I’d post her photo online. She didn’t need to worry; no matter what she wore, she looked amazing. She was tall and gorgeous, with deep brown skin and cheekbones to kill for.
Once upon a time we’d been the same height, until Desi shot up to runway proportions and I stayed stuck at goblin-sized. In middle school people called us Salt and Pepper, which I worried was racially offensive, but Desi just laughed it off. For Halloween in eighth grade, we dressed up as salt and pepper shakers, me with a big S on my chest and her with a big P.
Desi rang up my sale, and we pretended not to know each other while the store manager hovered. She handed me my pretzel and whispered, “Wait by the fountain. My break’s in fifteen minutes.”
The fountain stood sentry in the middle of the mall, surrounded by statues of fake elk, fake boulders, and actual benches. Spray from the powerful waterspouts misted the air while I searched for a bench that wasn’t too wet. Mom texted to say she was working late at the hospital and I should eat leftovers without her. Sometimes I didn’t know how I handled the never-ending excitement that was my life.
Desi finally joined me, carrying two lemonades and a bag of pretzels, her hat tucked into the pocket of her pants. She handed me a drink. “Compliments of Pretzel Logic.” She leaned back on the bench. “All right, spill. How bad was it?” She sucked lemonade from her straw, appraising me through narrowed eyes. “You look wiped out. Were the kids that bad?”
“Not just the kids. Though Gillian was in rare form. But Slade…he was…” My voice trailed away as I pictured him towering over me in the gift shop, eyes flashing.
“He was what?” Desi prompted. “Did he set off the fire alarm as a prank?”
“What? No, of course not.” Even he had outgrown that.
“Did he let the kids play in traffic? Force feed them worms for lunch?”
Was Desi going to make me feel bad for every negative I’d said about Slade, just because he was friends with her boyfriend Trey?
“He totally questioned my authority, Dez. He bailed on us during the IMAX movie. He hated the binder. Gillian’s in love with him. Max thinks I’m mean.” My chest heaved as the words spilled out. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this! I’m an excellent babysitter. Remember that time I helped Jarvis build his volcano for the second grade science fair? He won a blue ribbon because of me.”
Desi slurped noisily from her straw, but I could tell she did it to hide her smile.
“You know I’m right. Slade has no business working as a nanny.”
“Max’s mom must not agree, or she wouldn’t have hired him.” She took a bite of pretzel, leaving a tiny speck of mustard on the corner of her mouth. Normally I’d tell her about the stain, but I was mad, so I didn’t.
I wanted to tell her the truth about how Slade got his job. But I couldn’t break my promise to the moms. Damn their delicious cookies and double salaries.
“You know, Trina, every other girl I know, and some guys, would be ecstatic to spend the summer working with Slade.” She slanted me a look. “Maybe you’re defective.”
I didn’t answer right away. Once or twice I may have caught myself staring at him during class. In the hall. Shooting hoops. And there’d been one time, one teeny tiny moment, when I’d almost lost my immunity.
We’d stayed after school for GSA club. Slade rarely came to the meetings, but everyone knew he was a total supporter because of Alex. Whenever Slade did show up, he was always the center of attention.
It was time to hang the fundraising car wash posters and Alex, always in charge, had pointed to Slade and me. “You two take the second floor.” I’d felt light-headed when Slade turned his full wattage grin on me.
He’d joked about our senile Spanish teacher, and I’d struggled for words, frustrated with myself for falling under his smexy spell. He’d held the poster too high for me to reach with the tape, looking down at me, laughing, making a joke about me needing a ladder. It wasn’t mean; it was flirty. And I knew it.
And for one never-ending moment, we’d stared at each other and I thought my heart would fly right out of my chest and crash into his. But the moment passed, and we returned to the GSA meeting, where he drifted across the room to joke with Alex, and it was like nothing ever happened.
“I’m not defective,” I told Desi. “Just immune to his spell.” I remembered his hand grasping mine in the gift shop and how my whole body had tingled. Okay, maybe ninety-nine percent immune.
“Whatever.” Desi wiped her mouth with a napkin, erasing the yellow stain. “What are you doing tomorrow, since it’s your day off?”
“Maybe a movie. And I should do more research on field trips for the kids.” And try to figure out where I’d gone wrong with Gillian today. I needed to rein her in, stat.
Desi stood up and blew into her paper chef’s hat, puffing it out like a balloon. “I’ll go to a movie with you, but only if you don’t rag on Slade the whole time. You need to step back from this situation and reevaluate.”
I gaped at her. “I need to reevaluate? Me? What about him? He doesn’t even—”
She put up a hand. “Save it for later. I’m headed back to work. If you’ve calmed down by tomorrow, we’ll talk for real.”
She turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.
Oh. My. God.
She was the second person who’d bailed on me in the same day.