really know. And I turned forty last September.”
“You’re fourteen years older than me?”
Pete smiled a little, vain about it. Still, it meant he and Santangelo hadn’t been frat brothers or anything.
I was just starting to feel relieved when he added, “I think David’s doing a remarkable job with these kids, you know?
He’s absolutely amazing.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, fi ghting to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “I fi nd myself constantly amazed.”
“His whole thing this morning, calling that guy Tim on his shit? I thought David was just incredible, the way he handled that.”
“Sure,” I said. “Incredible.”
“You and I need to work on Lulu, then. She’s got a lot of doubts.”
“Ya think?”
“I’ve been talking to David about it. He’s hoping I can bring her around.”
“You know,” I said, “I really could use a cup of coffee.”
“Did you bring your cigarettes?” he asked. “Lulu told me she always bums them from you, and I’m dying for a smoke.”
I felt a little sick. “You gonna talk to David about that, too?”
He laughed. “Not if you share.”
* * *
1 0 1
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 101
28/5/08 2:44:26 PM
“You sure this guy’s cool?” I asked Lulu after Pete had asked to use her bathroom.
She gave me impatience: crossed arms with a tapping foot.
“Don’t be an idiot, Madeline.”
I tossed the Camels onto her countertop. “Get us busted.
See if I care. But I will seriously hurt you if you tell him about Fay.”
“For chrissake.” Lulu rolled her eyes and handed me a mug of coffee.
“I’m not kidding,” I said. “He’s been chatting you up with Santangelo, promising to bring you into the fold.”
“And I think we can keep him out of it,” she said. “He’s a decent guy. We can’t let him end up bald in some airport with a fi stful of carnations.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Madeline, you know you wouldn’t wish that on a fucking dog.”
“Depends on the fucking dog,” I said.
“He’s one of us .”
“How do you know?”
“I just do,” she said. “You have to trust me.”
“But can I trust him, Lulu? We barely know this guy.”
“Worst-case scenario, we’ve got dirt on him already. Coffee and smoking.”
“Yeah, that’s putting my mind at ease.”
“When you fi nd out what happened to him . . . why he ended up here . . .”
“I have to go home.”
“Give me fi fteen more minutes. You’ll know I’m right.”
“Come for dinner Sunday,” I said. “Tell me then.”
“I’ll bring Pete.”
1 0 2
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 102
28/5/08 2:44:26 PM
“Why?”
“You are going to feel like such an asshole when you realize how wrong you are about him.”
“Jesus,” I said, “I hope so.”
He came back out of the bathroom and shook a Camel from my pack.
“Madeline’s gotta take off,” said Lulu, “but we’re both invited to dinner at her house Sunday night.”
“Sounds great,” he said, holding a fl ame to his cigarette and squinting against the smoke. “What can we bring?”
A signed-in-blood loyalty oath?
“We’ve got it covered,” I said. “How ’bout seven o’clock?”
And when you both wake up scalped at LaGuardia, don’t come crying to me.
Dean greeted me with a hug and a cold beer back home. I clinked my bottle against his and drank off a third of it.
“Hard day, Bunny?”
“Complicated,” I said. “How about you?”
He didn’t answer that, just said, “You look exhausted.”
“Pretty much.”
“That place is going to suck you dry.”
“Already has,” I said.
He walked me toward the sofa, depositing my beer on the brown oval surface of our butler’s-tray table. “Take off your coat and stay awhile.”
“Listen,” I said. “Something came up today about work.”
“For me, too,” he said, grinning.
“Good news?”
“That temp place called back. They have a gig for me. I don’t even have to piss in a cup.”
1 0 3
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd
“You’re fourteen years older than me?”
Pete smiled a little, vain about it. Still, it meant he and Santangelo hadn’t been frat brothers or anything.
I was just starting to feel relieved when he added, “I think David’s doing a remarkable job with these kids, you know?
He’s absolutely amazing.”
“Oh yeah,” I said, fi ghting to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “I fi nd myself constantly amazed.”
“His whole thing this morning, calling that guy Tim on his shit? I thought David was just incredible, the way he handled that.”
“Sure,” I said. “Incredible.”
“You and I need to work on Lulu, then. She’s got a lot of doubts.”
“Ya think?”
“I’ve been talking to David about it. He’s hoping I can bring her around.”
“You know,” I said, “I really could use a cup of coffee.”
“Did you bring your cigarettes?” he asked. “Lulu told me she always bums them from you, and I’m dying for a smoke.”
I felt a little sick. “You gonna talk to David about that, too?”
He laughed. “Not if you share.”
* * *
1 0 1
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 101
28/5/08 2:44:26 PM
“You sure this guy’s cool?” I asked Lulu after Pete had asked to use her bathroom.
She gave me impatience: crossed arms with a tapping foot.
“Don’t be an idiot, Madeline.”
I tossed the Camels onto her countertop. “Get us busted.
See if I care. But I will seriously hurt you if you tell him about Fay.”
“For chrissake.” Lulu rolled her eyes and handed me a mug of coffee.
“I’m not kidding,” I said. “He’s been chatting you up with Santangelo, promising to bring you into the fold.”
“And I think we can keep him out of it,” she said. “He’s a decent guy. We can’t let him end up bald in some airport with a fi stful of carnations.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Madeline, you know you wouldn’t wish that on a fucking dog.”
“Depends on the fucking dog,” I said.
“He’s one of us .”
“How do you know?”
“I just do,” she said. “You have to trust me.”
“But can I trust him, Lulu? We barely know this guy.”
“Worst-case scenario, we’ve got dirt on him already. Coffee and smoking.”
“Yeah, that’s putting my mind at ease.”
“When you fi nd out what happened to him . . . why he ended up here . . .”
“I have to go home.”
“Give me fi fteen more minutes. You’ll know I’m right.”
“Come for dinner Sunday,” I said. “Tell me then.”
“I’ll bring Pete.”
1 0 2
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd 102
28/5/08 2:44:26 PM
“Why?”
“You are going to feel like such an asshole when you realize how wrong you are about him.”
“Jesus,” I said, “I hope so.”
He came back out of the bathroom and shook a Camel from my pack.
“Madeline’s gotta take off,” said Lulu, “but we’re both invited to dinner at her house Sunday night.”
“Sounds great,” he said, holding a fl ame to his cigarette and squinting against the smoke. “What can we bring?”
A signed-in-blood loyalty oath?
“We’ve got it covered,” I said. “How ’bout seven o’clock?”
And when you both wake up scalped at LaGuardia, don’t come crying to me.
Dean greeted me with a hug and a cold beer back home. I clinked my bottle against his and drank off a third of it.
“Hard day, Bunny?”
“Complicated,” I said. “How about you?”
He didn’t answer that, just said, “You look exhausted.”
“Pretty much.”
“That place is going to suck you dry.”
“Already has,” I said.
He walked me toward the sofa, depositing my beer on the brown oval surface of our butler’s-tray table. “Take off your coat and stay awhile.”
“Listen,” I said. “Something came up today about work.”
“For me, too,” he said, grinning.
“Good news?”
“That temp place called back. They have a gig for me. I don’t even have to piss in a cup.”
1 0 3
CrazySchool_HCtextF1.indd
Similar Books
