Spin by Catherine McKenzie Read Free Book Online Page B

the Internet.
    I open my email and write a short update to Bob. Have arrived. In detox. So far, so undercover. I
hit send and scan through my inbox. There are three emails from Greer and two
from Rory sent ten minutes apart.
    I open Greer’s first. It was sent at 6:44 p.m.
yesterday.
    K, is your phone dead? Let’s
hook up 2nite. Bring your drinking boots.
    The next one comes from someone named Patrick
Morrissey, but the subject line says “From Greer,”so I know it isn’t someone trying to sell me a penis enhancer. It was
sent at 8:32 p.m.
    Some scrounger banker let me
borrow his BB. Where RU?
    I smile, thinking of Greer flirting with Steve
before shifting her attention to a guy in a suit (she hates guys in suits) so she could finagle him into letting her use
his BlackBerry. Classic Greer.
    At the time of the last email (11:24 p.m.), Greer
was clearly drunk.
    I’m letting this guy take me
home and you can’t stop me!
    I laugh out loud, then smother my mouth with my
hand. I listen carefully, but I don’t hear anything other than the birds
twittering outside. For all I can tell, some psychotic addict has killed
everyone in the place and I’m the last person alive.
    Moving my fingers over the touch screen, I write
Greer back.
    Sorry about last night. It’s a
long story, but I had to go away suddenly for work. I probably won’t be back
for at least a month. Don’t worry. I’ll be in touch. Love, Katie.
    I hesitate before opening Rory’s emails. The fact
that there are two of them isn’t a good sign. Rory usually says what she has to
say the first time around, and I’m pretty sure the double email has something to
do with the breezy message I left her two days ago.
    “Rory, Rory, quite contrary, something’s come up,
and I have to go away on a new assignment! So, I won’t be able to take the job
after all. I’ll let them know. Thanks so much for the help! Love you!”
    Maybe I took the coward’s way out, but lying to
Rory has never been my strong suit. I knew if I told her the truth she’d be
horrified and shocked, and would probably persuade me to be horrified and
shocked too. And I didn’t want anyone talking me out of taking this job.
    Joanne was the only one I’d told, because I had to
tell someone. She seemed like the safe choice since she has no real connection
to my other friends (Rory and Greer both loathe her). Her reaction was typical
Joanne—she just shrugged and asked for my share of the rent in advance. The only
rehab-related comment she made was that she expected me to pay her back for all
the wine I’d drunk when I got out.
    I open the email.
    You’re not answering your
phone and you know I can’t stand talking to Joanne. I can’t believe you
abandoned this job. I know it wasn’t what you hoped you’d be doing with your
life, but it’s time to grow up. I thought you’d have a little more respect
for me than this.
    Jesus. She’s madder than I thought. And hurt. I’m
an evil, evil person.
    The second email picks up where the first one left
off. Clearly ten minutes wasn’t enough time for her to calm down.
    I can’t believe you’ve put me
in this position. I really went out of my way to get you this job, you know,
even though I knew I’d regret it. Don’t expect me to do anything for you
ever again.
    A tear runs down my cheek as I sit on my bed, in
rehab, feeling very alone.
    S everal hours later, after I’ve attempted to eat some of the breakfast
Carol brings me, stared out the window for an hour, and off into space for
another, I get an IM from Greer on the messenger service I downloaded onto the
iTouch.
    Where the hell
RU?
    Secret mission.
    U’ve joined the
FBI.
    No.
    CIA?
    No.
    Cult?
    No.
    Joanne says UR in
rehab.
    God fucking shit, Joanne! The last words I’d said
to her were “Don’t tell anyone where I am.”
    Joanne’s an
idiot.
    It’s OK if UR. I went to
rehab 1x.
    You did? When?
    In 6th form.
    How come?
    Mam and pap thought I
smoked 2 much pot.
    Why?
    Cuz I smoked