13. Tink #2
“But it sounds like he went out for cigarettes and never came back,” Pan finishes for me, casually studying his fingernails. “Tale as old as time.” He shrugs.
“So she’d just end up in the system,” Fox says. And there’s a note of what sounds almost like…heartbreak in his voice. He looks at Pan. And Pan looks at me.
“Well, I…” I stumble a little, my heart racing. “I mean, Jesus, what’s the alternative? Blue’s right. She can’t stay with us.”
If Blue appreciates the backup, he doesn’t show it. Asshole.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Pan counters, rubbing his chin.
“Could be fun. She could be like a mascot or something. Don’t you have a little bike in the garage she can ride around on?
” He mimes revving a clutch at Fox, whose face brightens, then clouds.
“Or she could be like a…what’s that thing in sororities?
” He snaps his fingers. “A house mother.”
“House mother?” Treasure echoes. “You better not be trying to make some little girl act like your mommy.”
“Okay, okay.” Pan backs off, chastened, and tries again. “So we give her a job. Can twelve-year-olds tattoo?”
“Ten-year-old,” I say.
“No,” Kit and Blue say in unison.
“God, fine.” Pan sighs again, drumming his fingers on his upper arm. “Well, I’m out of ideas. Tink, you’re the problem-solver here. Do…something.”
At that, someone laughs. Blue.
And for some reason…for some reason that makes me mad. Mad enough to look him in the eye, even though he came so close the other night to seeing me, to finding it all out.
“What?” I say, and fold my own arms. “We should’ve just waited there for the fuckin’ fire department to show up? And cops, probably?”
Blue’s eyes are hard and cold as ice on mine. But I don’t back down.
Don’t have anything else to say, either.
But after last night, the way I felt like I was pinned in place…
I can’t let Blue think I’m a pushover.
It’s too big a risk.
“Yeah.” To my surprise, it’s Fox who speaks up. “I mean, we panicked, I guess, but Tink’s right. It would have been really bad to get caught at the…you know.” He lowers his voice. “Scene of the crime.”
“Ah, of course. So you brought her home,” Kit drawls. “To a tattoo parlor across the street from a titty bar.”
“Hey,” Treasure says firmly. “This is an exotic dance club.”
“Uh, yeah, we did.” Fox cocks his head a little, heat creeping into his voice. “Because it beats…it beats the fuckin’ alternative, and you know it.”
He locks eyes with his twin and holds steady for a long, long moment. Long enough that I get the sense that there’s more to this than anything they’re saying out loud.
Kit breaks first. “It doesn’t matter now anyway,” he says, glancing at his watch.
“County offices close at five. There’s no way they have the staff to work the weekend.
You wouldn’t get a foster placement until Monday at the earliest. Besides,” he adds, “with the time it took you to get all the way back here, they probably just assume she’s… ”
“Toast?” Pan offers. Kit groans.
“She can’t stay.” Blue’s voice is flat and hard.
I rub the sides of my head, which are throbbing, and nod. “Blue’s right.”
Blue doesn’t move to acknowledge that I’m agreeing with him, even though I am agreeing with him. Dickhead.
Pan pouts. “C’mon. Why not?”
“Yeah, why not?” Fox says, glancing from his brother to Pan. “It’s Pan’s house.”
“It’s technically an abandoned house,” Kit mutters.
“It’s more mine than any of yours,” Pan retorts. “And I’d like to see the city try and grab it back from me,” he adds. “So why not?”
Blue stares at Pan like he’s stupid. “Because.”
“Because why?”
And suddenly I can’t take it anymore—Pan’s contrarianism, Fox’s bleeding heart, Kit’s sarcasm, Blue’s…everything.
Because we live in a goddamn tattoo parlor across the street from a titty bar. Like Kit said.
Because she’ll get in trouble. Because she’ll get us in trouble.
Because she’s a kid.
Because…
“Because we can’t have a girl living with us,” I blurt out. “And all of you know it.”
At that, everyone falls silent.
Everyone except Treasure.
Treasure sighs, a deep, long sigh, and nods at Pan.
“Pan, baby,” she says softly. “Tink’s right. Look at you. Look at your life. You really think that little girl’s gonna feel safe with you?”
We all glance down to the other end of the bar, where Emerald is setting down a basket of chicken tenders and a bottle of ketchup—“You guys have chicken tenders here?” Fox asks, which Treasure ignores.
Pan turns back to our little group.
“Sure,” Pan says. “Why wouldn’t she be? Neverland’s plenty safe—I mean, as long as she doesn’t lick any tattoo needles, or whatever—”
“Pan,” I interrupt. “Shut up.”
He shuts up.
Looks at me.
“She didn’t ask if the kid was going to be safe,” I hear myself say the words before I realize that I’m even talking. “She asked if she would feel safe.”
Pan sighs. “Same difference. What’s your point?”
“My point…” Treasure shakes her head. “Pan. Please. Use that empty head of yours for once. One girl. With five men. Five men she does not know. In, as you said, a tattoo parlor across the street from a titty bar.”
“Hey,” Fox interjects. “This is an exotic dance club.”
Treasure swipes a hand at him, her eyes still on Pan.
“You know what kind of place this is, Pan. What kind of place you run in Neverland.” Her voice is clear, strong, resigned.
“I know for you all, with your little bikes and ink and cards and whatnot, think it’s all just fun and games out here.
You never really have to grow up. But girls?
” She slides a glance down the bar again.
At Wendy, nibbling her chicken. At Emerald, turned to the bar, the bare skin of her back glowing blue around her halter top and ass hanging out of her tiny silver shorts. At everything around us.
“They don’t have a choice,” she concludes, turning back to us.
Pan’s silent a moment. A long moment.
“It wouldn’t be like that,” he says, his voice unusually firm. “It wouldn’t—fuck, Trez, come on. We’d take care of her!” He jerks his head at Fox and Kit. “We could definitely do better than the system. Just until we can find her dad, or whatever. Right?”
And then he has to look at me.
And I hate it.
I hate that I want to believe him.
I hate that I know I’m going to believe him.
But I do.
Because I’ve seen Pan save people before.
Even if he has no idea that I know.
“Yeah,” I hear myself say. “We can handle it.”
Thump, thump, thump, goes the music.
“Fuck this.” Blue’s voice is sharp and sudden as he steps past me—steps into me, really, almost hard enough to be a shoulder-check. I just stay frozen, not able or willing to react.
“Jeez.” Pan lets out a low whistle, craning his neck after Blue. “Who lit the fuse on his tampon?”
There’s a clunk as Fox sets his glass down on the bar, shooting Treasure a smile. “Can I get another?”
Treasure rolls her eyes and waves Emerald over, who snatches the glass for a refill.
“Look, I’ve gotta get back to work,” Treasure says. “But I wanna make a few things clear. First, this is not my problem. But I do feel bad for that little girl, so I’m gonna help you out. Okay?”
Pan nods. I nod. Fox and Kit nod.
“Good,” Treasure says. “Second, even though your motives are stupid and what you did was stupid, you did save her from having to see something really, really ugly. So props for that, I guess.”
Pan starts to grin—
“Third—” Treasure interrupts, finger in his face before he can smile too wide, and makes a grabbing gesture. “Gimme your phone.”
“What?” Pan balks. “Why?”
She turns to me. “Tink, give me his phone.”
I dart for his back pocket before he can stop me.
“Dammit,” Pan mutters, but holds still when she aims it at his face to unlock it.
“Thank you.” Treasure taps something open, walks back a few steps, and hands the phone to Wendy. “Here, honey. I’ve got Valu-Mart up for you here. You go ahead and order whatever you need to be comfortable over with the boys, okay? Clothes, toothbrush, some doggie chow for your puppy…”
Wendy sets down a chicken tender, a little suspicious. “Really?”
“Really.” Treasure pats the counter once and swivels back to us, stepping just out of Wendy’s earshot. “Fourth, as soon as that kid’s done eating, I want you out of my club.”
Pan’s face falls. “Aw, Trez, come—”
“Out,” Treasure says again. “My bar, my rules. You do not drink enough or tip well enough for me to spend this much time with you on a Friday night, and now you’ve got this kid besides. Anyway, your scrawny ass is no match for my bouncer and you know it.”
Fox lifts his now-full beer. “She’s right, man. Even I wouldn’t mess with that guy.”
Pan scowls, but concedes the point. “Fine, fine,” he mutters. “Soon as she’s done, we’ll leave.”
“Thank God,” Kit murmurs, darting a glance back at the club—at, I realize, Pearl, the Mermaid who was in the shop the other day. He hunches over a little, like he’s trying to avoid her noticing him.
“Good.” Treasure nods. “And make sure”—she looks at Pan, reconsiders, then looks at me—”you make sure that kid is comfortable and not sleeping on the floor with a sack of White Monster cans as a pillow.” She wrinkles her nose. “Last thing we need is a sweet girl like that turning into one of you.”