Excerpts: Teaser
“I’m wired,” Maisie said. “Like I can’t slow down.” She wore worn jeans, and a white, hand-woven Mexican blouse.
Abe sat at his desk, watching her, waiting. Maisie had large, sea blue eyes. Her lips were full and her smile alluring. She was thin, delicate, growing into a sensual woman’s body—an intense, unwieldy business. Abe sensed that she was keenly aware of her nascent sexuality, though unsure how to manage it. Maisie fidgeted, anxious, running a hand through her short, brown hair.
“Sometimes things start to spin,” she said. “I told Verlaine. The sixties-stoner stepdad wants me to take Prozac.”
Abe almost smiled, caught himself. “Do you want to?”
“Are you like kidding or something?”
“So sometimes things start to spin,” he repeated. “What would you like to do about this spinning?”
“Well, I skipped flute yesterday, and today I cut Spanish. My mom was totally pissed when I missed flute.”
“Why did you skip flute?”
“I was getting it on with Aaron.” Maisie touched the gold ring in her eyebrow. “We met this really cool girl. She’s got a place near Broadway, and she lets us come over.”
He waited before asking, evenly, “Does your mother know why you missed flute?”
“I think she picks up on it. It’s like she can smell sex. She can’t be exactly satisfied in that department. I mean Verlaine wouldn’t even know if he got her off. Un-unh.” Maisie raised her palms – she knew that much. When Abe didn’t say anything, Maisie sat down in the brown leather chair. ‘Now, can we talk about something personal?”
“Sure.” Abe waited, watched her drum her fingers on the arm of the chair.
The drumming stopped. “I tried some cocaine,” she volunteered. “Afterward, we got it on, the three of us.”
Why, he wondered, is she being so provocative?
“And?”
“Is that crazy or what?” Maisie closed her eyes.
“I don’t know. Here, with me, you often say something shocking, then measure my response. Did you expect something terrible to happen?”
“Won’t it?”
“Not necessarily.” Abe waited until he had her full attention; this was important. “The drugs worry me, though. I’d like you to stay clear of them. Can you do that?”
“She made a face. “Even weed?”
“Yes.”
“And if I can’t?”
“I know a good program. You’ll have to live there until you clean up.”
Her mood shifted, Abe could see it change her face. She laughed. “No way.” When he didn’t respond, Maisie squinted, tense, then snapped, “No fucking way.”
She was keyed up now, almost speeding. Abe waited until she wound back down, wondering if her desire for sexual intensity was related to managing her own mercurial feelings. “Maisie, you’re sixteen. This is important.”
Maisie flipped him off as she left.
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Corey started walking back toward Star’s apartment, trying to get a grip. She was mucking about in the swamp, losing her way. No one was doing anything. The police had no “hard” evidence. The parents, the people in charge, weren’t listening. They thought she was crying wolf. Even in the cold air, she was overheating, sweaty. “You know, you’re about the only person in this who doesn’t think I’m some rabid dog foaming at the mouth.”
Abe watched her, taking his time. “Lou’s not taking this picture business lightly. He’ll be all over Teaser, if they find him,” he eventually offered.
“Teaser’s ahead of everyone. They won’t find anything to tie him to whatever is going on. Whatever he’s doing, it’s already happening.” With her free hand, Corey was hitting every parking meter they passed.
Abe slowed, then he turned. The lines in his face had softened. “So it’s up to us.” A statement, and a question.
Corey stopped. Abe could often distill a complicated thing into one decision. “Yes,” she said. “It is.” And saying it made her feel better, a sea change. She didn’t have to convince anyone, anymore, of anything.
“Let’s get on it.”
“Thank you, Abe.” She took a slow breath. The night air was cool and sweet.
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“You need to get the real story.” Abe said.
“Do I have to get so worked up about it?”
“Probably not.” He hesitated. “You want to back off?”
She leaned against him. “When did that ever work?”