Page 77 of Jaked

The girl glanced down at Bianca's dress. "Your costume," she said. "Are you like, part of the show or something?"

Bianca's gaze narrowed. "What show?"

"I dunno. Isn't there some historical reenactment or something? I mean, itisa museum, right? Are you like playing a prairie lady?"

Bianca glared at her. "Do Ilooklike a prairie lady?"

"Yeah. Kind of," the girl said.

"Well I'm not!" Bianca said.

"Jeez, you don't have to be all snippy about it," the girl said, "I was just asking."

I couldn’t help it. I snickered.

Bianca whirled toward me. "What are you laughing about?" she said. "It'syourdress."

"Not anymore." I gave an exaggerated eye-roll. "Not after you'vesweatedin it."

Through clenched teeth, Bianca said, "I am not sweaty."

I leaned forward and gave a little sniff. "Are you sure?"

"Oh grow up," she muttered, turning toward the door. "That's it. I'm outta here."

She'd gotten just a few feet before whirling back around toward me. "And just for the record," she said, "This dress sucks! There! Are you happy now? If you wore this thing in New York, they'd mug you for the fun of it. And you'd deserve it. When I get home tonight, I'm gonna burn it." Her voice rose. "And send Jake the bill!"

She turned away and wrenched open the ladies room door.

"Don't bother!" I called out. "Healreadypaid for it! Remember?"

Did she hear me? I had no idea. I glanced around the rest room. Everyone was staring. Now, with Bianca gone, the only person actually being stared at was me. "Um, sorry about that," I muttered. Without bothering to dry my hands, I dashed toward the door and plunged through it.

Outside, Jake was still waiting in the same exact spot. He must have seen Bianca leaving, but he didn't say a word, and neither did I.

Besides, what was there to say?

He took my soggy hand in his and started leading me toward the main entrance. By the time we snaked our way through the crowd and out of the building, the car was already waiting.

Jake opened the rear passenger side door and motioned for me to climb in. I settled myself into the center spot and waited for him to push the door shut and send me on my way.

He didn't. Instead, he climbed inside and settled himself beside me.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He gave me a curious look. "Getting into the car."

I glanced toward the museum. "But don't you want to stay?"

He pulled the car door with a decisive thud. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because," he said, "you're not staying."

"Oh," I said. "Is it because you don't want me at your place? You know, without you there to keep an eye on things?"

"I don't know," he said. "Are you planning to rob the place?"