Q U I D P R O Q U O
41
That was bad.
I knew Atula. She wasn’t usually scared to say
things in front of me. All I could think was that
Andy must be in really big trouble for her to shut
up like that.
Atula fiddled with the scarf she always wears and
then said something like, “You two must be hungry.
Why don’t you toddle off for dinner, and we can
discuss this at another time?”
Andy sat on the curb outside McDonald’s, sucking
on her, like, twenty-third cigarette, while I went
inside and grabbed two Big Mac combos. We headed
home. She wouldn’t eat, and she wouldn’t talk. She
wouldn’t even say “None of your business” like
she usually did when I tried to find out what the deal
was with Byron. She wouldn’t say anything.
We got back to the apartment, and Byron was
his usual charming self, asking about school and
work like he was a regular Mr. Mom. That took
guts. Andy looked at him like he was one of those
slimy hair boogers that clog up the shower drain.
He said, “Anyone ever tell you how gorgeous you are
when you’re mad?” She went into the kitchen and
slammed the door.
That meant I was stuck with Byron. There was
no way I was going to go into the kitchen with Andy
