Aiden let out a delighted yelp of laughter, but it was cut short by someone calling out to him in the distance. “Gotta go. Parents home,” he said, and Vivian found herself holding a dead line.
Vivian was surprised when Bingo showed up at her door that evening.
“Thought you might like some company since your boyfriend’s in the slammer,” Bingo said.
“How did you know?” Vivian asked.
“I phoned up to see what was on for the night and his old man told me,” Bingo replied. “Well, actually,” she continued, “what he said was, ‘He’s not spending any time with you weirdos until he cleans up his act.’”
Vivian laughed. She recognized the tone of voice. “Want to come in?” Thank goodness Esmé was at work. She could trust Rudy to be a gentleman.
Bingo poked her head through the door and looked around. “Neat house, but I got Jem in the car and a stack of videos. Wanna come to my place and OD on popcorn?”
Vivian hesitated. She wouldn’t have Aiden to hide behind. What if she didn’t know how to join in? What if she made a fool of herself?
But this is what you wanted, you coward, she told herself. She ignored the flutter in her stomach and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks. I’d love to.”
“There, I told Jem you’d come,” Bingo said triumphantly.
Vivian wondered why Jem had thought she wouldn’t. “Let me grab my bag,” she said.
Bingo’s parents were home, which explained why the entire Amoeba hadn’t descended. “I told them it was their duty to go out so I could throw wild parties, but they wouldn’t listen,” Bingo said as she led the way upstairs to a small room that had been turned into a den for her use.
“Bingo’s lair,” said Jem, snapping his skinny fingers.
“Mom said she understood my need for privacy, but she was damned if I was going to entertain boys in my bedroom,” Bingo explained as she flopped onto an overstuffed couch. “Put that one in,” she ordered, jabbing a video at Jem, who almost dropped the popcorn but obeyed slavishly. “As if I couldn’t do the same things she worried about in here,” she said to Vivian, and winked.
Vivian began to think she needn’t worry about keeping up her end of the conversation, but what did Jem feel about her coming along? It soon became clear, however, that Bingo and Jem were merely buddies.
The movie was wonderful-a real grade-B, drive-in clunker-and Bingo and Jem immediately began a sarcastic commentary on what was happening. “Hey, man, I’m having a bad hair day,” Jem said in a falsetto as a zombie with clumps of hair missing shambled across the screen.
“I may be the president of the Hair Club for Zombies,” Bingo added, parodying a well-known TV commercial.
“But I’m also a client,” Jem and Vivian chimed in together.
The three of them fell about laughing.
“Your life is a bad hair day,” Bingo said to Jem, and they screamed with laughter again. Vivian had to wipe tears from her eyes.
“You’re all right, girl,” Bingo said, and a flood of warmth surged through Vivian.
Halfway through the movie the phone rang. Bingo paused the tape and grabbed the receiver. “Yeah? Oh, hi, Kelly.”
Vivian stiffened.
“Oh, hangin’ out movie bingeing,” Bingo said. “Yeah? No. Did they? Yeah, I heard. Phoned his house. Yeah, again. His dad’s a real prick.”
It was obvious the subject was Aiden. Vivian picked up one of the cassettes and tried to look as if she wasn’t listening, but Bingo’s next words made her glance over anyway.
“Well, why don’t you ask her, Kelly? She’s sitting right next to me.” Her tone was mockingly sweet. “Bye-ee,” Bingo sang in response to whatever Kelly said at the other end of the line, and she hung up.
“That girl can be such a bitch,” Bingo said.
“What did she say?” Jem asked. Vivian never would have. She waited for Bingo’s answer warily.
Bingo flung a hand up as if dismissing Kelly’s words. “She was like, ‘I guess Vivian won’t be going out this weekend,’ only she sounded happy about it, you know? She thinks you don’t have any friends or something.”
“She’s jealous,” Jem said, reaching for the remote.
“Oh, duh!” Bingo responded, then to Vivian, “She was like that to me before you came along, you know. I’ve been friends with Aiden forever, only when Ms. Me-First decided to claim him, suddenly I was the enemy, and I wasn’t even competing.”
“Let’s watch the movie,” Jem said.
“Aiden’s too sweet,” Bingo continued, ignoring Jem. “He was falling right into a thing with her, just ‘cus it was easier than saying no and hurting her feelings.”
“She’s not that bad,” Jem said, starting the movie again.
“Guys,” Bingo said. “They think with this.” She grabbed her crotch.
Jem laughed. “You’re crude.”
Bingo blew a raspberry at him. “Yeah, you love it.”
On the screen a scientist put the severed head of a zombie in a pan and poured in a nutrient to sustain it. The zombie’s lips wriggled and its eyes rolled.
“Mmmmmm! Zombie Helper,” Jem said. “Pop it in the oven and bake.”
Bingo added her own interpretation. “Now, baby, use your zombie litter.”
“Good one,” Jem conceded joyfully.
Vivian settled back into the cushions. This was great. She had an ally. Who would have guessed? She was having the most fun she’d had with anyone in ages, and they weren’t even pack.
We can be friends, she thought.
It needn’t be them and us.
But what if they saw her in her wolf-shape? They’d be fleeing down the streets like those teenagers on the television.
“Stop, wait,” she said for a zombie that chased some kids down an alley. “Let’s play Scrabble.”
Jem and Bingo cracked up.
The trees in Gaskill State Park were festooned with crystal raindrops, and thunder still rumbled in distant skies. The air was thick with mist as the heat of the day steamed from the turf into the pewter light of dusk.
Figures wound through the trees and emerged into the clearing-pairs, singles, groups. Vivian watched them arrive from the fallen elm where she perched. Some chattered in hushed, excited tones, others came silently. Most had walked a long distance after the two-hour drive, their cars, vans, or bikes parked along lonely country roads, in hidden clearings and forgotten lanes-anywhere they wouldn’t attract a park ranger’s eye.
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