Chapter Text
Anyone might have thought she was very interested in the news, the way she was frantically opening each little box and scanning the headlines of every paper. Luckily, these were the free ones that companies left out just to get attention. So, it wasn’t as if she’d need to pay for every paper she crumpled up and discarded. A few bystanders eyed her curiously, but Jerrica did not draw nearly as much attention as Jem would have. She had decided to go about this silly little game as herself, despite the fact that it had been intended for Jem. It wasn’t like anyone was monitoring her anyway.
The previous clue had directed her here.
She checked a few magazines. Skimming over front page articles about growing political unease, the enemies of Los Angeles’ current mayor, organized crime on the rise, and a piece about whether or not leggings were going out of style.
But she didn’t find what she was looking for until she grabbed an issue of some toy magazine.
The headline was something about some new stuffed animal that used ‘beans’ instead of stuffing. But that wasn’t what interested her, it was the defaced article below. Many of the words in the column had been scribbled out to change it to a completely different sentence.
‘that score in your credit wont be quite so tall
After you see them, you’ll want more of them all'
She squinted down at the scribbles. Them all. The mall? It was unclear how much of the spelling ambiguity was intentional, and how much was a limitation of the medium. And how much was a mistake, because The Misfits didn’t spell-check their little scheme.
“These are just getting lazy.”
At least they were still dedicated to the rhyming.
She crumpled up the magazine, and tossed it with the others in a nearby bin.
The nearest mall was several blocks away, but still very much within walking distance. Either a sign that The Misfits were taking it easy on her, or another indication of laziness. None of the last three clues were even beyond walking distance of each other. Her indoor shoes were grateful for that, but Jerrica was beginning to think they just set up the clues on their way out to lunch some earlier day.
Their schemes were usually more effort than this. Although, admittedly, they seemed to gain nothing from all of this except for the irritation it was costing her to put up with it. It wasn’t as if this game would further the Misfits’ careers, or forestall Jem’s. And The Misfits rarely put effort into things without immediate payoff. It was a wonder why they’d bothered at all with this nonsense.
It was still better than going home, where Rio might find her.
And she was still feeling guilty about that.
Rio was… a good person. But much more difficult to navigate around socially than even The Misfits were. At least with them, she knew what to expect. The things that upset him were harder to predict, and his hidebound, uncompromising nature was at times exhausting to adapt to.
It certainly wasn’t as if she was going to be making a habit of ditching him to play stupid games with Pizzazz instead. After all, when push came to shove, even in all his anger and stubbornness, he loved her. That was worth something. And it was worth more than any pity or tepid fondness she could ever feel for someone as awful as Pizzazz.
She reminded herself all of this, and felt the burden on her chest grow light. Then, she arrived at the mall.
Jerrica wasn’t much of a shopper. She bought things when she needed them, and splurged rarely on anything unnecessary. In the past couple years, she’d spent very little on clothes, having made it a habit to simply take advantage of Synergy for anything beyond the essentials. But she was somewhat familiar with this mall, having come a few times before with her sisters, or the girls. And it wasn’t too crowded on Wednesday.
There was a big open area just after the main entrance. It was split off from the food court by a big gaudy fountain full of spare change. The sound of its water splashing, and the dim, ambient mall music, was strangely calming. It set her at ease.
Whatever would follow, it would at least be better than an afternoon pretending to be a version of herself that Rio liked more.
Jerrica took a deep breath. “Okay, just need to search the entire mall.” She went to the closest building on her left, and decided to work her way around and up. “…I can always just buy a new mug while I’m here, anyway.” She decided to pin that idea for later. There were around sixty shops. If at around the halfway mark she decided she’d killed enough time, she would consider that as an alternative.
The first little shop wasn’t really a shop at all, it was an arcade. The clue had been vague enough that she felt the need to check inside regardless.
Videogames were unfamiliar to her. The loud beeps and flashing screens were definitely more attractive to children than to an adult with responsibilities. It was mostly empty at this hour, but there were a few scattered people standing at a few of the machines. Jerrica poked her head around an intimidating console, and saw some big bright hair.
She quickly ducked back behind the machine. And then, slowly peeked around it again to get a better look.
Roxy’s white hair, Stormer’s blue hair, and…
Aghast, Jerrica straightened up and marched toward them. “Kimberly J. Benton!”
All three of them turned to glance at her, plus a few unassociated strangers who were startled by the yelling.
Kimber managed to mouth a terrified ‘uh oh’ before Jerrica stomped toward her, and grabbed her petrified sister tightly by the shoulders.
The beeps and boops of the games all seemed silent in anticipation for what was to come. Kimber shuddered and grinned sheepishly down at her. “Oh… hey, Jerrica. What brings you here?”
“Ask them!” she said, gesturing angrily at the two Misfits.
“Us?” Roxy scoffed, “How are we supposed to know why you-”
“Wait,” Stormer cut in, “she’s doing the treasure hunt thing. Remember? We set it up on our way out to lunch a couple days ago.”
“Oh, yeah. That junk. I forgot we put one of the clues inside that claw machine in the toy store.”
Jerrica reached down to grab her sister by the sleeve, and yank her along with her. “Excuse us for a minute,” she said, as not so much a request as it was a polite demand. Not that anyone was about to argue. She took Kimber with her out of earshot, dragging her the whole way.
Kimber reached pitifully toward The Misfits for help as she was taken. Clinging to empty air for dear life. Roxy gave her a little sardonic wave. You’re on your own, Stormer mouthed, with a shake of her head. She turned back around, grimly ignoring Kimber’s desperate pleas for help, and leaned over Roxy’s shoulder to watch her game.
“I don’t think you were supposed to tell her about the claw machine,” Stormer muttered.
“Whatever. It got her to leave.” A few more button presses, and then the screen flashed red. Text began counting down from ten. Roxy dug around in her pockets for a moment, and then sighed. “Hope she brings Kimber back in one piece. She’s got all the tokens.”
“She’s got all the tokens because she spent the money on them.”
“Hmm.” Roxy folded her arms together and bitterly watched her character get violently killed by falling rubble when the timer got to zero. It looked unrealistic, but oddly satisfying. “Well, guess we better scrounge up some more. Unless you wanna go save her from her nerdy sister.”
Stormer considered it, glancing out the door at them. “Better give them time to settle it between themselves.”
“Good call.” Roxy stood up and stretched, popping the joints in her fingers. “Let’s go get some tokens.”
Outside the arcade, Jerrica let go of Kimber’s sleeve and folded her arms together. Her expression was tight and angry. Her feet were barely done stomping when she started tapping one furiously on the tile. “Alright, explain: why are you suddenly hanging out with The Misfits now?”
“Well first of all: I’m not. I’m hanging out with Stormer. But she already made plans to spend the day with her bandmates, so we compromised.”
“So, you had no choice but to play video games with both of them? Is that right?”
“Well, I wanted to try out skee-ball, but I was out voted.”
Jerrica massaged the wrinkles between her eyebrows. “Look, I understand that you and Stormer are still close. I wouldn’t have an issue with this if it was just her. But the minute any of the other Misfits are involved, they’re all just as rude and destructive. You can’t just ‘hang out’ with them!”
“Jerrica, relax! If they were doing anything bad, I wouldn’t help them out or anything. The worst thing they’ve done today is kick some kids off the whack-a-mole game. If anything, I’m helping by keeping them out of trouble. I’m the adult here! I’m keeping them in line!” She gestured back into the arcade at the two Misfits.
Roxy was delicately reattaching the back panel of one of the games, while Stormer was frantically piling an increasingly taller pile of tokens into her other hand from off the floor just below it. When Roxy was finished, she stood and bumped deliberately into Stormer’s shoulder, playfully knocking some of the tokens out of her hand. Stormer chased after her, a trail of tokens following along the way. A disgruntled employee appeared a moment later with his hands on his hips.
“Well…” Kimber grimaced, “they don’t get into much trouble while I’m looking.”
Jerrica wanted to argue. She really did. But before she could, Kimber had one of those moments where she seemed to pick up on exactly what she wasn’t supposed to.
“Wait,” she said, “more importantly, what are you doing here? What was that about a treasure hunt?”
“Nothing,” Jerrica muttered evasively. “Just… Pizzazz messing with me again. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
This seemed to be enough of an answer. Not unusual enough for Kimber to suspect that there was more to it. Not that there was.
“Well, alright, that checks out,” Kimber nodded, taking her dismissive explanation at face value. “Anything I can help with? Can you tell me what she took? Was it related to the band?”
“No, it’s personal. The thing she took, I mean. Not that I can’t tell you…” She felt awkward again and sighed. “I could probably use a break, actually.”
Jerrica was hardly a person to ever admit to it when she was overworked. So, when she acknowledged it, it was already serious. Kimber seemed to realize that.
She was also counting on taking advantage of that to make her forget she was mad at her.
“Okay, no sweat. We were going to get lunch in a second anyway, c’mon.” Now, it was Kimber who put her hands over her sister’s shoulders, and slowly moved with her in the direction of the food court. “Stormer! Roxy! We’re getting lunch!” she called out toward the arcade as they left.
Jerrica wasn’t sure she wanted them to join her. But luckily for her, they seemed to be too engrossed in their new game to care. Stormer at least smiled and mouthed an affirmation, but Roxy just waved them dismissively away, like she was shooing them.
Kimber was nice enough to choose a table that was far from all the others, where their conversation would be a little bit private. And when she went out to grab food, she returned with two little greasy meals from the burger place nearest to their table.
“So,” Kimber began, folding up her hands under her chin, ready for gossip. “What did Pizzazz take?”
Jerrica sighed wistfully with her head in one hand. “The old mug Rio got me. Well, got Jem, anyway.” She pressed a french-fry into a helping of ketchup. “Don’t ask me why she did. I really don’t know. I think she thought it was special.”
It wasn’t, of course. Kimber knew that. So, she didn’t react with surprise when Jerrica outright said so. But she did react with a strange discomfort, like she was holding herself back from adding a comment. This was her typical reaction at the mention of Rio.
And as was also typical, Jerrica did not ask for her input. She knew what she would hear. And she didn’t want to.
Kimber had never really been the biggest fan of Rio. Much less so, in recent years.
They both took silent bites of their food for a few moments, both thinking the same things, but too polite to say them.
“So… why not tell her that? If you tell her you don’t give a damn, she’d probably give it back.”
“Kimber, language.”
“Sorry… too much time around Roxy.” Kimber shook her head and shrugged. “But I mean, why not? Save yourself the trouble.”
“Well… I kind of need to play along with her. She’s my alibi,” Jerrica explained. “If I don’t go along with this, then I would’ve been lying when I told Rio I couldn’t go out with him today. And then, he might suspect… something.”
What that ‘something’ was, Jerrica still wasn’t quite sure. Only that she still felt guilty for it.
Kimber exhaled, deep in thought. Just by her expression, Jerrica could see everything she wanted to say. But all she said was, “Sounds like a real mess.”
“Yeah. It really is.” It was at least nice to be able to confide in someone about it. But she wished she could say more.
When Roxy and Stormer suddenly appeared, she really couldn’t say more.
“Alright, Holograms,” Roxy called as she and Stormer came over to their table. “I’m in the mood for crispy chicken, and you’re buying.”
“We absolutely are not.” Jerrica narrowed her eyes at the two of them when they sat down on the other side of the table. Her patience had been tested too much today.
“Sure you are, since I was so nice to give you the answer to that last clue. And since I haven’t shoved anyone into that fountain full of pennies all day.” Roxy leaned her elbows smugly over the table. “I think I’ve earned it.”
Jerrica pushed her chair back, ready to stand so she could make some things clear.
No matter who Kimber was irrationally deciding to spend time with, that didn’t make it okay for them to take advantage of her good nature. That was probably the only reason they were even here. Kimber, in her naiveté, couldn’t see that the Misfits obviously were only putting up with her attempt at friendship so they could make her pay for things and get their food.
It couldn’t be allowed to continue.
But Kimber grabbed Jerrica by the sleeve, and pulled her back down before she could fully rise. “No, no, no,” she shook her head at them both. “Rock-paper-scissors. That’s how we’ve been doing it all day.”
“Yeah, well, now that your big sister is here, you can both contribute to my lunch. That’s a better deal for you, isn’t it? Instead of losing, and paying for it all out of your own pocket.”
“She’s not part of this. Technically, she’s not a Hologram, and none of us invited her. She doesn’t count.” Kimber leaned her arm across the table and closed her fist. “Come on, let’s settle this.”
“You know,” Stormer interrupted, “I don’t have a problem paying for everyone’s lunch. We can just-”
Roxy ignored her and mirrored Kimber’s gesture. “Bring it on.”
They both had an intense look in their eyes. A strange sense of competition, in spite of the fact that it was entirely a game of chance. They tied five times in a row before Kimber was victorious.
Roxy got to her feet, appearing largely unfazed by the failure. She seemed to be energized more by the conflict itself than by the desire to be triumphant. But then she was a little more bitter after taking Stormer’s food order, and turning to Kimber for hers.
“Me and Jerrica are sharing, so I’m good, actually,” she said. “But, you know, I’d really love one of the fruit smoothies from that place over there, pretty please.” She fluttered her eyelashes, just to really rub it in.
“Hope you like spit flavor,” Roxy growled as she marched off toward the wall of food around the court.
Kimber and Stormer laughed together about it, confirming for Jerrica that all the confrontation in their banter was not as charged as it had felt from outside. In fact, Kimber was clearly more attuned to their mannerisms than Jerrica ever had been.
She relaxed, and scooted herself back in. She felt unneeded, and was for once grateful for that.
Their laughter subsided, and then Stormer glanced Jerrica’s way. She clearly had some question on her mind, but it took her a moment of rolling her thumbs over each other before she decided to speak it. “So… if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here instead of Jem?”
“Oh. Well, that’s…” Jerrica tried to think up an excuse that wouldn’t give herself away.
“Not that I’m going to try to stop you, or anything! It’s just that, you know, we kind of imagined Jem would be the one doing this treasure hunt thing. We made the clues for her, and everything. You didn’t have to come in her place.”
“Yes, well… something came up. I had to fill in for her.”
“I see,” Stormer nodded, putting her hands down on her lap. She still looked like she didn’t understand, but luckily, she was too polite to pry for more information. “Well, I hope you don’t hate it too much. I wish I could make it easier for you, but… well, you know how it is.”
Kimber leaned back and folded her arms behind her head. “It’s probably better this way. Jerrica doesn’t want any hints or anything. She doesn’t want to finish too early, so she can ditch-”
Jerrica bumped her in the ribs with her elbow. “Kimber!” she hissed, alarmed at her. She dreaded to think how much personal information her sister was happy to divulge to The Misfits. She absolutely was not about to let her explain to them that she was avoiding her boyfriend.
Kimber rubbed her side and frowned, but it looked like she got the message.
When the conversation abruptly ended, Roxy returned and set Stormer’s food down before her own. And then, from about a foot above the table, she dropped a smoothie down in front of Kimber. It wobbled a little along its bottom rim before Kimber grabbed it and steadied it. Roxy pointed her index finger across the table at her. “Alright, you better not ask me for anything else today. I’ve got half a mind to pour the rest down your shirt.”
Kimber lifted up the drink and rocked it from side to side. “I can’t imagine that would be very satisfying, seeing as it’s already half empty.”
Roxy leaned one arm over the back of her chair in a very smug way. “I prefer to see it as half full.”
This time Jerrica laughed at them, surprising herself. Their good-natured ribbing really was growing on her.
“Oi!”
All heads turned toward the sound of Jetta, standing at the other end of the food court, and glaring at their table with an expression of abject disgust. Definitely not a fan of the ‘good-natured ribbing’ going on.
Jerrica eyed her sister.
“What? I did say we were spending the day with Stormer’s bandmates. Plural.”
Jetta moved in and slammed her hands on the table in front of both of them. “Right, I said I’d put up with one of the Holograms, as long as she didn’t bother me. But this is bloody pushing it!”
Jerrica was about to defend herself, but it turned out that she didn’t need to.
“Well, Jerrica’s not technically a Hologram,” Stormer interjected uncertainly, repeating Kimber’s defense from earlier.
“Yeah, and it’s not like we invited her, or you,” Roxy pointed out, biting a chicken strip at her. She spoke through her full mouth of food. “Run back to the mansion, if you can’t handle it.”
They were both defending her. It was remarkable. Then again, maybe Stormer and Roxy were just itching to argue with someone besides Kimber.
Jetta shoved her way into a seat, pushing Roxy and Stormer to make room for herself on the end opposite the Bentons.
“She’s just as irritating as ‘er band, and we all hate ‘er just as much. She might as well be one of ‘em,” Jetta said. “And believe me, I would go back, but the self-proclaimed ‘Queen of Rock and Roll’ invented a petty excuse to have me pick ‘er up a sandwich.”
Jerrica’s ears perked at the mention of Pizzazz. It was a small relief to know that she, at least, wasn’t also skulking around the mall with them. Part of her had been a bit scared of that.
She had been hoping that at the end of this silly game, she’d be able to just take her mug and go. But that felt too easy. There was always a catch with The Misfits. But at least it seemed the catch wouldn’t be a confrontation with Pizzazz.
It was uncomfortable enough that she was thinking about her as often as she had been lately. It would be so much worse to have to see her.
Roxy sputtered and laughed, punctuating the sound by bumping Jetta in the shoulder. “She’s got you on errand duty? What’d you do to piss her off this time?”
Jetta scoffed and shook her head. “I didn’t do nothin’. It’s Pizzazz that has no appreciation for classic English cuisine.”
“You didn’t try feeding her cow stomach, did you?”
“That’s a delicacy, I’ll have you know. But no. I was eating beans on toast. Didn’t even offer her any, but she got her knickers in such a bloody knot. Now, apparently, I’ve got to redeem myself by doing what ‘er dad pays his staff to do for ‘er already.”
Kimber surprised all of them by speaking, as though she was part of the discussion. “Wow, so Pizzazz even makes you do things for her?”
Jetta glanced at her like she’d forgotten she was there. And after a moment of sneering at her audacity to speak to her, she ultimately decided not to make a big deal of it. She just rolled her eyes.
“She normally makes Clash do all the menial labor,” Jetta explained. “But noooo, today she’s having Clash do one of her ‘special jobs’, if’n ya know what I mean.” She raised her eyebrows conspiratorially at the other Misfits. Roxy snickered, and Stormer had to look away and blush. The energy that spread over the table after her little joke felt strangely charged to Jerrica.
What did she mean?
She turned to her sister, for some sign she understood what The Misfits all seemed to. Kimber was better attuned to their particular ways; she might get the joke. But Kimber seemed to be deliberately not making eye contact with her, focusing just a bit too hard on eating her fries.
Changing tactic, Jerrica tried to look at Jetta instead, in a way that wouldn’t invite her to look back. She wanted to see if she could find any trace of the meaning of the joke.
The Misfits were talking again, but had moved on to a new unrelated topic, without any ceremony. They seemed to think Jetta’s suggestion wasn’t worth commenting on.
Jerrica frowned to herself and attempted to absorb the meaning. She couldn’t be sure, but something about their tone suggested that Clash’s ‘special job’ might be… sexual in nature.
There was no way there was any truth to it.
Jerrica wished desperately someone would have challenged her on it. That someone would have said what they were surely all thinking, that it couldn’t be true. It was just a crude and tasteless joke.
Pizzazz was definitely the sort of person who would engage in casual sex with her fans, if it was convenient enough. But… a woman? Could Pizzazz really be attracted to women?
Jerrica searched her memory for signs of it. Every interaction she’d had with her, every conversation, now under new scrutiny. She considered Pizzazz in a new way.
Could Pizzazz really be…?
Pizzazz certainly had never seemed like she was capable of caring about anyone but herself, woman or otherwise. All her interactions with her bandmates and the press and anyone else always seemed so adversarial. It didn’t seem like someone who liked women would treat her fellow women so badly.
Then again, she was also quite awful to men.
Pizzazz had already admitted that her advances on Rio had been a farce, but what about Riot? If she’d been faking that, it had been much more at her own expense than anyone else’s. Although, Jerrica had to acknowledge that liking men didn’t cancel out a like for women as well. Kimber proudly swung both ways. She dated men just as recklessly as she dated women, and throughout all her romantic escapades had never declared a previous romance to be invalid simply because of the new gender she was dating.
Maybe it was possible for Pizzazz to be gay. A lesbian, or a bisexual like Kimber. But it was also equally possible that Jetta was just making fun, and that Pizzazz was straight as an arrow. As straight as Jerrica was.
She thought back to last Friday. What new and terrible implications their interactions had if Pizzazz had been gay the whole time. All the teasing, and casual physical contact.
Oh no…
Did Pizzazz think that she was gay, too?!
“Jerrica?”
“I’m not…! I… sorry Kimber, I mean, what did you say? I didn’t hear you.”
“Geez, you’re really out of it today. I asked if you wanted help looking for clues, since we’re both here anyway and all.” She leaned in a bit closer and cupped a hand over the side of her mouth closest to The Misfits. “It would be a good excuse to get you away from them.”
“Right, of course,” Jerrica agreed, standing up. She relaxed the strange tension in her shoulders and focused on putting some distance between herself and The Misfits. Kimber followed her.
The Misfits watched them begin to leave, but only Stormer spoke up as they went. “Oh, you’re leaving? Want us to come along?”
She was sweet to offer, but both Jerrica and Kimber knew that by ‘us’ what she really meant was just herself. It wasn’t like the other two would be eager at all to tag along. But, it would probably be a bad look if Pizzazz were to find out how much help she had given them. And it would be even worse if she singled herself out to help them. Better to avoid that possibility, just in case.
“That’s okay, Stormer,” Kimber said, “I’ll meet back with you later. Sisterly duty calls!”
Assuming Roxy could be believed, they knew exactly where to go. As they rode up the escalator to the next floor, Jerrica watched The Misfits slowly fade into the distance. They were beginning to have some animated discussion, but were already too far away to hear. Jerrica could only speculate that they felt just as conflicted about Kimber’s inclusion as she did, and that was what they were fighting about.
On the second floor, Jerrica ran her hand across the walkway railing as she followed Kimber to the toy store. Kimber had her hands clasped behind her neck, humming happily and trotting like a pony.
Jerrica was still glad to be away from them, but maybe it wasn’t so bad that Kimber was spending time with The Misfits. Despite everything, they seemed to leave her in a good mood. Maybe this silly little treasure hunt had been good for her, to see for herself what it was exactly Kimber got out of her company with them. Maybe this whole thing had been a bit lucky after all.
Approximately thirty minutes later, Jerrica sighed, and put another quarter into the machine. The claw failed for the twenty sixth time in a row to catch the rolled up parchment buried in the center of the toys. She smacked her forehead against the plexiglass, and it made a sad thump sound.
“A little further forward,” Kimber instructed, unhelpfully.
“I know what I’m doing.”
She bit down angrily on her lower lip. Another quarter, another failure. Kimber offered to take control, but Jerrica refused, a bit curtly, and tried again. Truthfully, her mind was wandering. It was difficult to focus on delicate adjustments to her approach when her mind was still stubbornly thinking of other things. Like the clue she was trying to get, and when it would lead her to her mug, and the trashy rockstar that had taken it.
She put in another quarter, and did her best to not think about Clash doing some special job for Pizzazz. Whatever Pizzazz did or did not get up to in her spare time was her own business.
Focus. Focus!
The roll of paper taunted her as she positioned the claw above it. “How do you think they put it in there in the first place?”
Kimber shrugged. “They probably took the glass off, stuffed it in, and put it back on. Probably swiped some goodies while they were at it, too.”
The three talons of the claw lowered, enveloped the top of the roll, and then raised back to the top without gripping the paper enough to so much as loosen it.
Kimber scratched her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe we could do that? Take the glass off, I mean.” She peered over her shoulder and around the salesfloor. “If they didn’t get caught, maybe we won’t.”
Jerrica chuckled dimly at her. “And here I was starting to think they weren’t such a bad influence after all.”
“Hey, its not stealing if it doesn’t belong to the toy store either!”
“It’s still tampering with their things. And in broad daylight we’d definitely get caught. I get the feeling that stealing is the one thing that The Misfits are a bit better at than we are.”
Kimber harrumphed dejectedly and leaned against the machine, quiet again. Without her to distract, Jerrica’s thoughts began to wander again.
Was Clash even her type? Sure, Pizzazz might let anyone into her circle if they fawned over her enough. But given her choice in men, Clash sure seemed unusual. Clash was subservient and loyal to a fault. All the men Pizzazz had ever pursued had been more independent than that. And mainly, the unifying factor was that they all seemed to despise her. But, perhaps her taste in women was different than her taste in men. Or perhaps she just wasn’t picky.
Her thoughts would not rest. Jerrica took her hands off the machine.
“Kimber…?” she began. As soon as she’d gotten just that far, she wanted to take it back.
“Yes?”
She swallowed down a lump in her throat. If she could just ask it casually, as if she wasn’t all that curious… maybe it wouldn’t sound so bad. “You… hang out with The Misfits a lot now, right?”
“Well, I don’t know about ‘a lot’, but… sure. Why?”
“Do you know if… that is… do you think that…” She lost her nerve. “Forget it… it’s stupid.”
“You can’t just not ask me now! C’mon, what is it?”
Kimber would never let it be. She sighed, and tried to look uninterested. “It’s just something that I wondered. And, I don’t expect you to know. But, in your opinion… do you think that Pizzazz might be…” she swallowed, “gay…?”
She tried not looking at Kimber, but failed as the seconds went by and she was still silently staring at her.
Kimber’s expression was oddly hard to read at first. She just looked blankly back at her. Like she was waiting for Jerrica to follow it up with the real question. A few more seconds passed and she still didn’t answer, but made an awkward sound quietly out of the side of her mouth. “You’re… seriously asking that?”
Jerrica looked away quickly, embarrassed. She felt the beginnings of a blush coming on, and needed to hide it before it could be misinterpreted. She put another quarter in the machine and jostled the joystick angrily as she began her thirtieth attempt. “Well, it’s not like you can tell what a person is just by looking! But you have… insight, and I figured you might have heard something from one of them.”
“’Insight’? You mean, because I’m gay? Or because I ‘hang out’ with The Misfits now? Because, for the record, I still don’t spend that much time with them, and gaydar is a myth.”
“I just mean you’re more knowledgeable about some of these things,” Jerrica muttered evasively. “Like I said, it’s stupid.”
Kimber smiled, clearly happy with being considered the expert on such things. But her happiness didn’t last. “Well… why does it matter? And why Pizzazz specifically?” It was exactly the question she shouldn’t ask. “Are you… are you seriously scared that Pizzazz might be gay?”
This blunt accusation gave Jerrica a strange sense of relief. Like dodging a bullet.
Yes… it was Pizzazz who she was scared might be gay…
“Well, I-”
“For shame, Jerrica!” Kimber smacked her hands away from the machine, and jabbed her finger at her. “Look, you can’t go around accusing people you don’t like of being gay! Sure, we all hate Pizzazz, and she’s definitely weirdly obsessed with you, but to blame that on attraction really shows your prejudices!”
“What? No! Kimber, I’m not saying it like that!”
“Then what are you saying like? Because you sound pretty homophobic right now!”
Was if better to be thought of as homophobic than to be thought of as maybe, possibly, a little bit gay herself? Being that it was Pizzazz they were talking about… it was hard to say.
She held her hands up defensively. “Kimber, please! Listen, you’re right, that was careless of me. I didn’t mean to make it sound like I was afraid of Pizzazz being gay. It’s just that it occurred to me recently, and I thought you might know something. But, you’re right. And it doesn’t really change anything. I shouldn’t speculate about it.”
Kimber was appeased by this apology. Her shoulders slackened, and she backed out of Jerrica’s personal space. “Okay, okay. Sorry for blowing up like that. I… guess I can get kind of defensive about this sort of thing. I know you’re not a bigot or anything. You’re actually a very good ally.”
“Yes… ally.” Jerrica repeated. That was what she would call it. That was safe. No huge commitment. It had been several days now since she’d been around Pizzazz anyway. Maybe, on a second exposure, she’d realize Friday night had been a fluke. And then, she’d still be able to call herself an ally, even once she was sure that she definitely wasn’t gay. She tentatively reached for the crane machine again. “But anyway, let’s just forget about the whole thing. And… if you don’t mind, let’s keep this conversation away from any of The Misfits. They… probably won’t be so understanding.”
“Won’t be so understanding of what, love?” Jetta appeared from around the corner, tapping her fingers wickedly against her hip.
Jerrica slammed her forehead against the plexiglass of the machine, again, and groaned.
“Hey, take it easy on her, alright?” Kimber pleaded. “She doesn’t need help getting a headache at this rate.”
Jetta sat on the edge of a nearby display, watching Jerrica with a mild interest as she continued to fail to grasp the paper roll. “Ya know those ruddy things are always rigged anyway, right? They won’t grip a bloody thing unless they get so much dosh.”
“Don’t listen to her, Jerrica. It’s a game of skill! I’ve won at least three prizes from crane machines, I am a master. You just need skill.” Kimber assured her.
But Jerrica’s faith in the crane machine was shaken. She let go of the control stick, and glanced curiously at Jetta. “What do you mean? It only costs a quarter.”
Jetta laughed. “You poor sweet little thing. Look, if there’s anythin’ I know, it’s a rigged game. It only costs a quarter to waste a quarter. To get the prize, you gotta give it a whole lot more. Way more.” She stepped over to the machine, and gently kicked the outside of the coin bank. It made a thick echoey sound. “Ah, bad luck. By the sound of it, it’ll want about twenty pounds more.”
“Pounds?!” Kimber shrieked. “How much does a quarter weigh? That’s so much money!”
“Steady on,” Jetta scoffed, “I meant dollars,” she clarified, pronouncing the word with a vile disdain for American currency.
“That’s still a lot of money… are you sure?” Jerrica eyed the rolled up paper stacked in the center of the pile for the hundredth time. She thought of how much money she’d already wasted. She could definitely have bought a new mug by now.
“Sure as the queen is a bloody old fart. But I’ll tell you what, it’s a waste of yer own time. You don’t need it anyway. I’ll tell you where the last clue leads. Save you the time.”
“What’s the catch?” Kimber asked.
“You’re right quick,” Jetta smirked. She turned to Jerrica, and became serious. “I want you to fire Jem.”
“Not happening.”
“Worth a shot. Fine. Somethin’ a bit smaller, then. Jem and The Hologram’s next album. Word is you’re planning to release it later this month. I want you to push that back a bit. Say, late July?”
“July?!” Kimber shouted. “That’s a terrible time to release music! All the major coverage in the industry focuses on the Iridescence Music Festival that time of year, we’d get no publicity!”
“Yeah. It just doesn’t make good business sense.” Plus, she was still trying to arrange a spot for herself and The Holograms at the festival. Having to juggle all that, and the release of the album at the same time, and knowing that she’d be making far less money from it…
Jetta narrowed her eyes at her, and sauntered closer. “That’s the point, love. I want you to take a financial hit for this. Or, if you don’t want to buy this information, I could always change tack.” She boldly put herself between Jerrica and her sister, and lowered her voice to a soft hiss. “Why don’t we make this blackmail?”
Jerrica straightened indignantly and glared up at her. “That’s not going to work on me.” She had nothing on her, surely. The only thing she had to hide was something no one but her sisters knew. And Raya. And a princess. And the president. And an old woman out in the mountains of Asia. Was she forgetting anyone else?
A smirk crept across Jetta’s lips. “Are you a betting woman, Jerrica Benton? Just how much are ya willing to risk that I didn’t hear that whole little discussion you had with yer sister a minute ago?”
A terrible blush exploded across her cheeks. “Alright, fine. We’ll push back the release of the album.”
Jetta reached out and patted her red little cheek condescendingly. “Good girl,” she purred, and strolled away from her again with a catlike saunter.
“What?!” Kimber sputtered, “What did she say? Jerrica, why would you agree to that?! We’ll be losing a lot more than a few pounds of quarters!”
“Be sure that you do,” Jetta said, looking at Jerrica and not Kimber as she spoke. “I can spill the beans the moment your album drops, but my memory might just be slippery enough to forget all about this at the end of July.”
Jerrica crossed her arms resentfully. “I get the picture.”
Jetta obviously wasn’t motivated by the spirit of friendship that Stormer and Roxy had been; she was only here to be her usual, cutthroat mercenary self.
“Good.” Jetta leaned against the machine, and eyed her up and down, scrutinizing Jerrica in a way that made her deeply uncomfortable. She had a knowing sort of amusement written all over her face. In on a joke that Jerrica wasn’t. She whispered. “For the record, she definitely is. I can personally attest to it.” She licked her lips, trying, and succeeding, in getting under her skin.
“I don’t care,” Jerrica assured her, through gritted teeth.
“Clearly.”
“Are you at least going to tell us where the final clue leads?” Kimber cut in, speaking loudly over their conspiratorial whispers.
“Sure, I don’t give a toss about this dumb game. The whole reason I played along was because I was expecting Jem to waste ‘er time with it.” Jetta stretched her arms over her head and yawned.
She lazily relayed the final step of Pizzazz’s plan to them both. And the time and location of the evening’s reservation.
Pizzazz was lounging by the pool when her bandmates returned.
Well, when Jetta returned. The other two were nowhere to be found. Not that it mattered. Jetta was the one with her food.
She didn’t look at Pizzazz when she entered the yard. It was still more acknowledgement than she gave Clash, at least. And Clash was right between them. Holding awkwardly still while Jetta reached over her to drop the paper bag of food on the table between them.
Before Jetta had even sat down on the empty lawn chair beside them, Pizzazz yanked the sandwich out of the bag. Luckily, it was still wrapped. Otherwise, the violence with which she jostled it would have released all the ingredients within. She unfolded the paper and lifted up the bread to examine the contents. “Ugh. You forgot to tell them ‘no mayo’.”
“I told them ‘no bloody mayo’, but I couldn’t ruddy well check if they made it right, could I? Or you’d whinge at me for opening it ‘n letting it get cold. Next time get Clash to run yer errands for ya!” she said, as if Clash wasn’t just right there.
With a dramatic groan, Pizzazz opened the sandwich and picked out the parts she wanted. The rest, she kept between the bread and held out in her open hand. Clash quickly snatched up her leftovers like an eager raccoon. She had been sitting at Pizzazz’s side in quite contentment on the ground beside her chair. The image of it, and the additional images it conjured, amused Jetta greatly.
“Whatever. I should save room for the actual food, anyway. This garbage was just supposed to help me look forward to dinner,” Pizzazz muttered, licking sauce off her fingers. In that perfect blend of elegance and sloppiness.
Jetta smirked at the sight. “Bad idea to go to a dinner date hungry. You might actually eat.”
Pizzazz scoffed before leaning back against the arm of her pillowed lawn chair, one leg dangling over the side. “Please, the last person I want to impress with a small appetite is Jem.”
“Well then,” Jetta said, leaning back with her arms behind her head. “You should be happy to hear that Jem isn’t following our little trail of bread crumbs.”
Pizzazz hummed in a way that was hard to read the emotion of. “So, we wasted our time with the whole thing, huh?”
“Well, wasn’t it mostly Stormer who put the clues toge-”
Pizzazz reached down and pressed a single finger over Clash’s lips. “Hush. The ideation was a lot of work.”
“Well, it wasn’t a complete waste,” Jetta clarified. “That Jerrica bird is doin’ it instead.”
This caught enough of Pizzazz’s attention that she turned to search Jetta’s expression for signs of sincerity. She pulled her hand back to her side and wiped it on her thigh. Jetta laughed, grinning in that big way of hers that showed all her teeth. This caused Pizzazz to narrow her eyes at her suspiciously.
“Guess Jem’s delegating this bollocks to her lackies, eh?” Jetta said. “Just as well. If we’d run in ’ta Jem out there, I could just about guarantee more people gettin’ pushed down escalators.”
Pizzazz hummed in an ambiguous contemplation.
At least her efforts hadn’t been totally wasted. But suddenly Pizzazz couldn’t help but wonder if Jerrica might take Jem’s place at dinner as well as on the hunt. Probably not. After all, she had officially extended the invitation to Jem. But only because she hadn’t been under the impression that Jerrica was an option available to her.
It was a shame, really. It would be so much more fun to drag the tightwad into all this. It was her damn mug, after all.
These musings were not as private as she would have liked. Jetta leaned over onto her side, and smiled all the wider. “It’s fascinating, ain’t it? Why do you suppose Jerrica Benton might’ve done that?”
Pizzazz narrowed her eyes further. The colors that curved across her brow bent aggressively downward. “You know something, don’t you?”
“Sure do. You can know it too, if you like. For a price…” she smirked devilishly.
Pizzazz turned away from her with a huff and looked off into the distant cloudless sky. “Another time, perhaps. I’m familiar with what you charge.”
“It’s not like you can’t afford it.”
“So true. But the value of your information is lowered by the fact that you’re a big fucking liar, and I’m not sure I’d believe you anyway.”
Jetta crossed her arms and fell back against the chair in defeat. Bitter to have lost out on not only money, but also on the chance to mock and ridicule Jerrica with her. Now, she would have to keep all those jokes to herself for the sake of a secrecy she didn’t even want to keep. How annoying.
Clash snickered at her, and got an angry glare in return.
The sound of the backyard door slamming open announced the arrival of the remaining Misfits. Roxy and Stormer were laughing when they finally joined them, oblivious to the quiet that had overcome the other three. They were both in swim clothes, which explained their late return.
Roxy rushed to the pool and jumped in before she had the chance to pick up on the mood of the others. Stormer walked to the edge to dip her toes in once Roxy’s cannonball had ceased its explosion.
“Ugh.” Jetta shook water out of her hair and glanced again at Pizzazz, in search of some sign that she was at least as annoyed as she was.
Pizzazz was still staring out ahead, deep in thought.
Jem and Jerrica were normally so coordinated in everything they did. But this last minute change seemed awfully unscripted.
Pizzazz hadn’t met her at their agreed time this morning to ‘settle’ things. Of course not. She sat back comfortably at home, and let Jem do as she pleased with the clue she left at the gate to Starlight Manor. But clearly, Jem wasn’t as willing to play along as Jerrica was.
Why let Jem settle things in her stead anyway? And why did her mind change? Perhaps, when she realized there would be no direct conflict, Jerrica had felt safer taking matters into her own hands. Maybe something came up, and Jem had better things to do.
Pizzazz found herself imagining Jerrica at dinner instead of Jem. It was a dangerous thing to hope for, so she didn’t let herself run wild with the fantasy. But picturing Jerrica begrudgingly sitting at her table, and gradually letting her guard down like she had a few days ago, gave her a strange thrill.
An evening with Jem would only be pleasant if she could mock, shame, and berate her throughout the entire ordeal. But Jerrica… Jerrica was fun. Her pride and lack of confidence were both equal in measure, and it made her delightfully easy to tease. And, she was cute as all get out. Yes, Jerrica Benton would make for a much better dinner partner.
But Jerrica hated her, and so it was unlikely she would take up the invitation in Jem’s stead.
Pizzazz was still thinking of her as she reached into her pocket. The wrapper of a lime-flavored candy crinkled in her fingers as she opened up the thing. Once it was in her mouth, she dropped the wrapper carelessly onto the immaculate lawn.
Jetta eyed this action with interest.
“What’satt, eh?”
“Nothing,” Pizzazz shrugged, folding her arms back behind her head, and moving to sit in a more normal way. “Don’t want sandwich breath.”
“She’s trying to kick the habit,” Clash answered for her.
It was not her answer to give. Pizzazz shot Clash a seething cold glare, before flicking down her sunglasses and trying to ignore them both.
Jetta smiled again, even wider, with all the excitement of a boy who just learned a new bad word.
“Aw, issat true, ‘zazz?” Jetta asked shrilly. “You worried ‘bout the tabacci? Scared you’ll haveta get one’a them holes in ya neck to sing through? All our songs’ll be in that robot voice they make with the box!” She howled with laughter at the idea.
“Shut up, Jetta.” Pizzazz muttered, unamused as she rolled the sour candy across her tongue.
Frankly, being the kind of woman she was, with as much money as she had, it would be a miracle if the cigarettes killed her career. She had connections to much more dangerous stuff.
The candy and the heat were making her thirsty. And she wanted Clash gone for a while. She flicked her hand down at Clash and snapped in front of her face. “Go bring me a drink.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t care,” she said. When Clash was halfway to the door, she changed her mind. “Strawberry soda. And put one of those little umbrellas in it.”
As far from her as she now was, Clash had plenty of room to roll her eyes without facing retribution. Then she disappeared into the mansion.
“So,” Jetta said, leaning over the armrest, “What’s the plan now? Are we sabotaging Jem before, or after your romantic evenin’?”
“We won’t have to,” Pizzazz assured her, “I picked the place because the mayor happens to be dining there tonight. It’ll be packed to the brim with reporters. I just have to enjoy myself, and Jem’s career will be over by morning.”
Roxy, who had been occupying herself in the pool without much interest in the conversation, cocked her head toward them now. She put her back against the edge, elbows dripping water behind her on the stone where they rested. “Really?” she drawled skeptically. “And how exactly does it ruin Jem’s career for the press to see her eating at some fancy restaurant?”
“Yeah…” Stormer agreed. Roxy’s comment had given her the courage to also doubt their leader. “Couldn’t you take her to a bad restaurant at least?”
“Or poison the food,” Jetta suggested.
“See, this is why I’m the brains around here,” Pizzazz sighed. “Look, if there’s anything about Jem that should be perfectly clear to us all by now, it’s that she can’t ever be put in her place. She only ever comes out on top, looking like a saint. If I take her to some shithole, and endanger her life while I’m at it, it’ll only make her look more heroic and dazzling when it’s over.”
Clash returned, holding a glass of pink fizzy liquid out to her master. And yes, it had a little umbrella sticking out of the top. Pizzazz took it, and paid her no further attention. She held out the glass as she went on, using it to emphasize her point.
“I’m never gonna ruin her reputation by putting her through adversity. But, I can ruin it by making her look like an evil, deviant weirdo.”
Roxy scoffed. “Little Miss sunshine and friendship? Come on, why would anyone believe that about her?”
Pizzazz smiled, and pressed the edge of the cup to her lip. “Because our mayor, and those who follow him around with cameras, are conservative. And the power of guilt by association is stronger than you give it credit for.” She tipped the glass, and tasted sweet victory at hand.
Jem’s career was going to go up in flames.