The Big Rewind by Libby Cudmore Read Free Book Online Page B

Sunday. Natalie had once remarked to me that he looked like a cowboy Morrissey. If she had been thinking of making him the next entry on her blog, she’d never actually made the move.
    â€œYou look cute,” he said, wrapping his headphones around his phone. “Like Winona Ryder in Heathers .”
    â€œThanks,” I said. “So what’s this story you’ve got to tell me?”
    He flopped down on the couch. “Jett, you’re not even going to believe me if I tell you,” he said, grinning.
    â€œTry me,” I said. “It’ll keep me entertained while I do my hair.”
    â€œAll right, so Terry takes me to this strip club, called Fairy Tales,” he began. Already I wasn’t interested, but I still had most of my head to braid. “It’s insanely tacky, all these women dressed in these skimpy princess costumes, like the damn village on Halloween, only you have to slip them a twenty instead of an eight-dollar shot. Terry’s got the hots for this one girl, Tinker Bell, but they got in some kind of row and he ended up getting kicked out of the club while I was in the Rose Room getting a lap dance from Cinderella.”
    â€œYou went into the Rose Room?”
    â€œTerry made me,” he said, getting a little red in the cheeks. “But that’s not even the best part—so here I am, all alone at this club I’ve never been to, in a part of town I didn’t even know existed, with this girl, Cinderella, and we get talking. Turns out she’s a misplaced southerner too, a Georgia girl, goes to churchwith her grandmother on Sundays. And before I know it, it’s two A.M. When I leave, she follows me out to the parking lot and gives me this little kiss on the cheek.” He gestured to the spot on his face like it was sacred.
    â€œSid,” I said, trying to twist my frown into some semblance of an ironic smile. “She probably does that to all the guys—it’s her job.”
    â€œI know that, but this was different,” he said insistently. “I saw how she acted with all the other guys, and I know this was something else. Think I might go back to see her later tonight.”
    Out of nowhere, I pictured Amanda, the girl Catch left me for, in that little Cinderella costume. Jealousy bubbled up inside me like a poisoned well, and I tried to fight it back. This isn’t Amanda, this is just some stranger, I told myself. She’s not trying to steal your man because Sid isn’t yours to steal. That made me feel worse, and before I could stop myself, I spit out, “You think she’s going to remember your lap over the hundred other guys she’s serviced this week?”
    All the blush drained from his face. “Forget it,” he said, standing up.
    â€œSid . . .” There was an apology tacked in there somewhere, but I couldn’t wrangle it out of my throat.
    â€œNo, you’re probably right.” He wouldn’t look at me, just fiddled with his phone. “Come on—we’ve got to motor if we don’t want them to give our table away.”
    B RONCO WASN’T AT Egg School, but his name was. The cops had picked him up the night before for KitKat’s murder and every tabloid had the headline. They’d gotten a partial fingerprint from the rolling pin, and another neighbor had seen him entering the apartment just hours before she was killed. As everyone waded through the story, I tried not to think about the tape on my table, the motive in my head. I wanted to believe he was innocent, I wanted to believe that someone I knew wasn’t capable of this kindof brutality. But I knew Bronco even less than I knew KitKat, and these days, you just don’t know. After brunch, I told myself. After brunch I would call the cops and turn over the tape.
    Today Egg School wasn’t turning anyone away. Those who didn’t have tables by lottery or connections hunched over friends, reading the