“Don’t take any of this personally,” Patrick placated. “Just tell us the truth, and we can start fresh.”
“What are you talking about?” Lena asked softly, with a rash of red spreading across her face.
“We need to know…” Red-hat began, “what you, Matt York and his manager discussed.”
The flash of red across Lena’s face may have very well proven to her that God was real, and that God loved Lena ferociously, because the flash of red was the only thing keeping blood in her face as fear washed over her. Her hands trembled and began to sweat profusely as a prickly sensation crawled its way down her throat and into the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, her life was flashing before her eyes, “How?!” she asked. “How do they know?!” There wasn’t any way they could have heard anything. They could have assumed, sure, but no way could they have known. Right?
She ran through every memory of the event—every walk, every talk, every person she had encountered or told—but besides Vivika and Mrs. Schroeder, the only person that could have had any knowledge of the event even happening was Patrick, and nothing incriminating had been said outside of the bus. Mrs. Schroeder she would just have to trust, as there wasn’t any way they could have gone after her. But she could trust Mr. Collins’ countermeasures, right? There wasn’t any particularly nifty spy-stuff she knew of that could cut through the noise of a bunch of drunken groupies singing bad love songs as loudly as they were singing them.
“God damnit,” Red-hat said, as he smacked the table and looked out the window. “I told you, Patrick. I told you about her.”
“Give her time,” Patrick said.
“Look at her eyes!” he whisper-yelled at him. “Her pupils are dilating. She’s trying to lie.”
“She hasn’t even said anything yet!” Patrick argued. “She’ll do the right thing.”
Every second brought her closer and closer to the point of no return. She had to figure out what to say, or buy some time right now. “It has to be Vivika,” she thought to herself, “Mrs. Schroeder wouldn’t have, and Patrick couldn’t have… no one else knew!”
“I… I don’t…” Lena stuttered.
“Look,” Red-hat whispered, leaning forward, “the only reason I’m not throwing you across this room right now is because we’re in public. You either talk, and talk true, right now, or I’m gonna drag you out of here in front of everyone, throw you down behind the building and beat you within an inch of your life.”
“P-Patrick?!” Lena looked over, hoping for some help, but he simply stared at her with a disappointed look. Whatever had happened, she was in a world of trouble now. Only the truth could save her. It had to have been Vivika—she was the only one who had been in a place to tattle about anything. Yet, even as she began to mouth the damning words, the words Mrs. Schroeder had said last night were speaking louder, “Trust, Lena… just trust.”
“I… I can’t,” Lena trembled.
“Why the hell not?!” Patrick said with exasperation under his breath.
“B-because… it’s gross,” Lena said. “It’s gross and embarrassing.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Red-hat demanded. “This isn’t a damn game, little girl!”
“Look, if I tell you what happened, no one will ever talk to me again. Not you, and certainly not Grandfather.”
“Trust us,” Patrick said, “Please!”
“Vivika told you, didn’t she?” Lena’s eyes flared with betrayal, “God, I knew she was spying on me. If she told you, I swear I’ll never forgive her!”
“We’ll keep your secret. Trust us,” Patrick pleaded.
“Well…” Lena quivered, “…Matt…”
“Yes?” Red-hat said, annoyed, “Matt…”
“Matt and I smoked drugs!” Lena exclaimed, just a little too loud.
“Wh-what?” Red-hat stuttered, and for once he looked mortified.
“Yeah, what?” Patrick said, his face equal parts surprise and amusement.
“I know, I know,” she began to cry, eyes watering as she gained steam. “Matt was just so helpful, you know? And I was so grateful because I was excited about our show, and then he invites me back to his bus, and then this little glass thing came out and… and… well, I didn’t really know what it was…” With every element of the story, her lips quivered more and the tears ran wetter. “…and next thing you know, I was so, like, drunk on drugs, and…”
“High, Lena.” Patrick said, trying to hide a grin.
“Wh-what?”
“You don’t get ‘drunk’ on drugs. You get ‘high’.”
“Oh, okay. So, I was getting high… and drunk… and high… and I didn’t think I was going to like smoking drugs, but then I did! And I didn’t want to tell you because I figured I would be in trouble…”
“Okay, you can stop,” Red-hat said as Patrick struggled to hold back laughter.
“Well, then his manager pulls out this thing called… I think it’s called a steam-something?”
“Did it look like this?” Patrick asked, cupping his hands in a familiar shape and holding it up to his mouth.
“Exactly like that!” Lena exclaimed, as more of the café began paying attention.
“Yep,” he sighed “those things will getcha if you aren’t careful.”
“Stop egging her on, will you?” Red-hat whispered, aggravated at the attention in the café that she was now attracting.
“Well, and then he tells me to smoke it! I told him I wasn’t supposed to, but then his manager is lighting up another j… err, another jaw… I don’t know what he called it…”
“A joint?” Patrick offered.
“That’s it!” Lena exclaimed, while the entire café was listening in.
“Ooooh, yeah. Gotta be careful with those.”
“Patrick!” Red-hat seethed at him.
“What?! It’s true!”
“And so he’s smoking one thing,” Lena continued, “and I’m smoking another, and now I’m crying because I know if anyone ever finds out then I’m going to get into soooo-oo-oooo much trouble, and…”
“Would you please shut up?!!” Red-hat yelled loud enough for the entire room to hear. Now that Red-hat had yelled at her, though, the waterworks really came on.
“Please don’t hate me, Sir,” Lena said as innocently as she could manage, wiping fat tears from her eyes. “It really was my first time smoking drugs, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do.”
“What the hell is the matter with her?!” Red-hat shouted at Patrick. “This? This is what these musicians are all about?”
“I guess,” Patrick said, openly laughing. “A joint and a steamroller?”
“It was terrible!” Lena said piteously, “It’s good that drugs are illegal!”
“Alright, alright, let’s put an end to this,” Red-hat said, trying to compose himself. “You have had your fun, Patrick. Let’s continue.”
“So, you aren’t mad that I was smoking drugs?” Lena asked, hopefully.
“I couldn’t care less,” Red-hat said apathetically. “Really. I couldn’t possibly.”
“I’m glad we got that sorted out,” Patrick said, “Let’s move past this and get on to the purpose of our meeting.”
Lena wiped her eyes clean, and composed herself on the outside. But on the inside, she was a wreck—both cheering roundly, as well as shaking with fear. She had somehow managed to dodge the bullet by obscuring her true position with pure nonsense. Thanking the gods, she recalled an axiom Patrick had told her during her training: “If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.” In a parallel universe where letting him know she had succeeded wouldn’t get her savagely murdered, he might have been proud of her.