Читать книгу The Great Cock Hunt - Alex - Страница 11

Lizzie insisted that we check in at the hotel and shower and primp and all that crap before going on to campus to register and be seen, which is why it was kind of funny when we walked into the hotel lobby, Lizzie looking a little worse for wear, her hair up in a messy ponytail, we ran into the biggest campus gossip and troublemaker ever: Liza.

Brief background. Liza was the upper-echelon of campus society; she wasn’t so much part of the most popular clique as she was the most popular clique. She was a rung or two above any station that I ever aspired to, and as Lizzie’s best friend, I was on her radar. Tommy, on the other hand, was never all that worthy of her social largesse. Liza was also famous, in my mind at least, because she fucked incredibly humpy Coach Donnelly. But we’ll get to all that later.

Always a fashion plate, and the daughter of parents who taught her very early to believe she was much better than she really was, Liza lead the trendsetting efforts at college. After graduation she landed some very important yet entirely trivial job for a high-end, famous-label fashion company in New York. There she met and somehow tricked one of the sons of the owner to fall in love with her and now they live happily ever after with servants and children in Los Angeles.

Anyway, back to the hotel lobby. Always one for the dramatic hellos, Liza came rushing toward us, L.A.-aerobicized arms outstretched, and hugged and kissed us each without making any body contact. Tommy hates her and made a face like he was wading through a life-sized trash compacter while they air hugged. Lizzie rolled her eyes at me in a just-my-fucking-luck look and tried to quickly exit with a promise to see her later. But Liza was having none of that.

Tommy and I went up to the counter to check into our rooms and when we returned Lizzie and Liza were sitting on the couches in the lobby. They were talking about some girl whose name I remember but face I can’t picture, when Liza turned to me and said, “Are you still dating Zoe’s cousin?”

“Um, no,” I said, a little caught off guard.

“That was the last time I talked to Zoe. Forever ago. And she told me about you and her cousin. It’s so cute.”

“He was a fucking prick,” Lizzie said with a politician’s smile. Like when you’re watching the news and the politician is telling you that forty people died in the war today but that it’s really going well and for a good cause.

Liza ignored this and turned back to Lizzie and said, “So do you still talk to Zoe?”

“Yeah. Not every day but we see each other once or twice a month.”

“How’s she doing?” Liza asked like she’s trying to tactfully ask a widow if the funeral was fun.

“Fine,” Lizzie said. I was proud of her. Because the urge to gossip—especially about a story like Zoe’s—is a strong one, and I was glad she didn’t succumb to Liza.

“I heard that he was robbing banks and everything,” Liza said.

Lizzie laughed and said that’s not true and Liza asked her if she knew the whole story. Lizzie said she did but that she didn’t have the energy to tell it now. Liza pestered her for another few minutes and then looked at Lizzie and said, with a tad of pity, “Yeah, you need to freshen up. Promise you’ll tell me tonight!” Then she turned to Tommy and me and said, “Bye, boys.”

“Bye,” I said with a plastic smile.

Tommy had already turned to go up to his room and Lizzie and I caught up with him. “I forgot how draining these things could be,” I said.

“I forgot how many people I didn’t like,” Lizzie said with the same look she’d have if she’d bitten into a rotten piece of fruit.

“You two love it and you know it,” Tommy said. And he was kind of right.