The Saints (Quarantine #2)

The Saints (Quarantine #2) Page 24

“I’m good,” she finally said, sucking in air and putting the bottle down, half empty.

“You look exhausted,” Sophia said. “I’m going to bring Lips in to help you.”

Lucy cringed at the mention of Lips. They hadn’t spoken much since Lips had given her respect for knocking her ass on the floor the last day of Naked Week. She’d dyed Lucy’s hair red, but even then, they didn’t have much to say to one another. As much as Naked Week was just a test, the animosity she felt between herself and Lips was real. Now, even though they were both officially gang mates, that old feeling was hard to shake when she was around Lips.

“Don’t bother,” Lucy said to Sophia. “I’ve got this table covered fine.”

“Not your call,” Sophia said. “Violent’s orders. She wants to up the number of customers she lets in at a time. It’s two Sluts per table now to handle the overflow.”

Sophia waved Lips over. Lips shoved her way past kids perusing clothes and pulled up a chair to sit next to Lucy behind the table.

“Make some room, Virgin,” Lips said, frowning at Lucy.

“You’ve got enough,” Lucy said. “Ugly.”

“Ooookay,” Sophia said, her eyes going wide and clapping her hands. “You two have a blast. If you fight, try to keep it away from the customers.”

“Whatever,” both Lucy and Lips said at the same time.

As Sophia walked off, Lips jammed her seat in beside Lucy, forcing her to scoot over. Lucy let out a long breath to keep herself calm. Getting into it with Lips wasn’t worth it. She didn’t need an enemy in her new gang. She told herself she could rise above it.

For an hour, they each dealt with customers, haggling. While Lucy left Lips alone, Lips felt the need to throw in her two cents about nearly every trade Lucy made, saying that she was letting customers get away with murder and that nobody in their right mind would make the deals Lucy was making. After what seemed like the hundred and fiftieth time, Lucy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Shut up,” Lucy said to Lips.

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t care what you think is ‘market value’, okay? Do me a favor and don’t talk to me.”

Lips frowned, almost like her feelings were hurt. It wasn’t what Lucy expected, mostly because she didn’t know Lips had feelings.

“Just trying to help,” Lips said. “Jesus. We’ve never had this kind of merch before, I figured maybe you needed help trying to figure it out.”

“Well, I don’t,” Lucy said, and turned away from Lips and shouted to the line of waiting customers, “Next!”

A Geek approached Lucy with a pile of clothes. But it wasn’t just any Geek, it was Zachary, King Geek in his golden plastic dress-up crown that tilted off the top of his grape-and-green-apple swirled dye job. He wore knee-high suede boots that looked like something Robin Hood might sport. His shirt was a ladies’ nightgown tucked into his skinny jeans.

Zachary plopped down his merchandise in front of Lucy as Lips waved up her next customer.

“Chop, chop,” Zachary said. “I don’t have all day.”

That was fine by Lucy; she wanted to keep this interaction as short as possible. Lucy started sorting through his pile of clothes. Midway through the pile, she plucked up a bra.

“That’s for a costume,” Zachary said, deadpan.

“I’m sure,” Lucy said.

“Hey,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “How do I know you?”

“You don’t. So, don’t try and butter me up now, Geek. Too late for that,” Lucy said, keeping her eyes down on her sorting.

Back when she was helping David escape the school and they had Zachary prisoner, Zachary had told Lucy that if David died she wouldn’t be able to go on without him. Zachary had said that Lucy would “fall apart.”

But here she was.

She could get through this without him recognizing her. The last thing she needed was for Zachary to make a big scene out of who she used to be, especially with Lips all ears. Lucy got to the last item in the pile, the best of the bunch, maybe the most exotic thing she’d seen all day. A real, fox fur coat. Her mother had always wanted one like this.

“Oh my god, you’re so slow,” Zachary said, lifting a garbage bag onto the table and opening it for Lucy to see. It was mostly full with cereal variety packs, paper towel rolls, and batteries as a top layer. Underneath was a new pillow, a pair of work gloves, and a coil of bungee cords, none of it that impressive. “Here, just take this. That should cover it.”

Lucy glanced over at Lips, knowing that she had an opinion. But to her credit, Lips kept her thin lips sealed.

“I got it,” he said and pointed at her. “I know who you are.”

“Congratulations,” Lucy said, dry as sand.

Zachary covered his grin. “Look at you. A Loner in Slut clothing. I don’t know about the red, honey. It’s a little … desperate.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Lucy pushed the garbage bag to Zachary. “Now, I got one for you. You’ve got to spend more if you want more. This isn’t going to come close to covering it. I’ll take seven more bags just like it,” Lucy said.

Zachary snapped his head back like she’d just pinched his nose.

“You’re too funny, but let me tell you how it’s going to be, big britches. That—” Zachary said, pushing the garbage bag back at Lucy “—is what I’m going to pay for this.”

He laid his hand on the fur coat, his fingers disappearing in the softness. Lucy wrapped her hand around the reddish brown collar.

“Just this coat is worth thousands of dollars,” Lucy said.

“Uh-huh,” Zachary said. He nodded with a condescending tilt of his head that made his toy crown almost horizontal. “Out there, it is, but reality check—we’re in here. And you’ve got no grounds to ask more than what I’m giving you. A coat is a coat. And if you keep pushing me, I might get offended. I might even ban my gang from trading here ever again. And how do you think Violent would feel about that, Ms. New Slut?”

Zachary tugged on the coat. Lucy let the collar slide through her fingers. This was her grudge with Zachary and she didn’t want it to turn into a full-fledged gang rivalry. Lucy glanced at Lips again, whose eyebrows began to crinkle in frustration. Lucy remembered Violent’s words from her initiation day: We don’t wait for permission, we don’t take any shit.

Lucy was quick with her knife, pulling it from its sheath at her thigh and sticking it into the table with a perfect CHOCK. The blade sunk in the faux-wood less than an inch from Zachary’s fingers. He yanked his hand away with a yelp.

“Hands off the merch until you pay,” Lucy said. “The price is set.”

Zachary clutched his hand as if it had been stabbed. He studied Lucy with a curious sort of shock.

“Well, you’ve changed,” he said.

“Pay up or move the hell out of the way,” Lips said, standing for impact. “We’ve got other customers, Geek.”

Zachary sneered, “Put my stuff on hold, I’ll be back.”

He snatched up his garbage bag and stormed off.

“Hurry up and maybe it’ll still be here,” Lucy said, grinning.

When Zachary turned away, Lucy and Lips met eyes.

“Sorry,” Lips said. “Didn’t mean to butt in.”

“‘S okay,” Lucy said. “Thanks.”

Lips nodded, then turned to the Skater girl that she was dealing with and pointed to the stack of T-shirts on the table in front of her. “Same goes for you. You browsing or buying?”

“Forget this, man,” the Skater girl said. “I’ll just put in a request with the Saints for the next drop. If you make out with Will a little he’ll put you right at the top of the list.”

The Skater walked away without the T-shirts. Lucy turned to Lips.

“What’s she talking about?”

Lips shrugged. Lucy stood in a rush.

“I, uh …,” Lucy said. “Will you, uh …”

“Need me to cover you?”

“Yeah, that,” Lucy said.

Lucy hurried through the classroom, weaving around piles until she got to the door. Violent was doing a head count of shoppers and glanced at Lucy.

“Where’s the Saints’ table?” Lucy said.

“To the right.”

Lucy stepped into the hall and up onto a folding chair that Violent had outside the trading post. She looked over the river of passing kids to the other side of the hall where three Saint boys sat behind a long folding table. Will was the one in the middle. They each had spiral notebooks on the table in front of them. Neither of the three seemed concerned with the line of kids waiting for a chance to talk to them. Their focus was on the girls sitting in their laps.

“Oh my god,” Lucy muttered.

A Geek girl was sucking on Will’s neck while a Pretty One chewed on his earlobe. She had her body wrapped around him like a python. Lucy felt sick. Will’s eyes were wider than an owl’s. He was laughing hysterically, but Lucy couldn’t see anything funny. She felt like a fool for ever feeling sorry for him, for even thinking about him. Clearly, he wasn’t thinking about her.

21

GATES SAT IN THE DARKENED BACK END OF the school bus. It was his room now. Orange extension cords snaked along the floor, which was littered with candy. He’d removed all the bench seats except for a few, which he’d left loose, like the two arranged end to end that he sat on now. They worked as both his couch and his bed. The four TVs he had arranged in front of him shined a modulating light on his face. Three were hooked up to separate DVD players, and one to a PlayStation. He was watching a porn, a supernatural soap opera, a movie about bicycle racers, and playing a firstperson shooter video game, all at once.

He was bored.

Getting the parents on the roof to bend to his will was supposed to make him feel better. When Will had told him the name of the motorcycle man’s kid, he’d known he had to do what he did right then. He’d figured it could ingratiate him to the rest of the population by punishing their ex-tyrant, while also turning the tables on the evil pricks that had them locked up. But more important than anything, he’d figured it would be really fun.