She stood on the street corner, looking around, not certain where to go next. There was the elderly man who sold hot dogs from a wheeled cart. He'd smiled at her before and given them a couple extra hot dogs for free when they'd bought from him. Maybe he'd know something about Liane.
"Elizabet, I'm going to talk to that guy," she said.
"Sounds like a good idea to me," Elizabet said. "I'll go get us some Cokes from the McDonald's."
"Great," Kayla said. She waited for the light to change, then walked across the street to where the old man was slathering onions on a hot dog for one of his customers.
"Excuse me, sir," she began, then she saw Liane walk out from a bar entrance three doors down the street.
Liane!
She looked totally different. The old sweatshirt and jeans were gone—she was wearing a tight white blouse and a black leather miniskirt, with four-inch spike heels. Kayla stared at her, too surprised to say anything. She walked to the edge of the curb, obviously waiting for someone. She looked around the busy street, then glanced in Kayla's direction.
Her eyes met Kayla's; she blinked, staring. "Kayla?" she called, her voice mirroring her surprise. She took a few quick steps in Kayla's direction, then stopped.
"Liane?" Kayla walked hesitantly toward her. Liane hugged her, smiling. She's okay, thank God she's okay. . . .
Kayla sniffled and rubbed at her eyes as she stepped back, looking at her friend. "Oh, hell, I smeared your makeup! I'm sorry, I didn't—"
"Who cares? I'll fix it! But what did you do your hair?" Liane asked. "It's wild!"
"What did you do to the rest of you?" Kayla asked. "The way you're dressed, you look like—"
A car pulled up on the curb with a squeal of tires—a blue Chevy. Kayla glanced at it and froze. In the driver's seat was Nick, looking just like he had the night all of this started, wearing a white sportscoat with his hair all slicked back.
For a half second Kayla wanted to run away, but she stopped herself. She didn't have to run from Nick, not now.
"Who's that you're talkin' with, Liane?" Nick got out of the car, walking over to them. "Liane, what are you doing with this punkette?"
Before, just that look would have sent Kayla running, especially without Billy around to keep her from being scared. But now, things are different. Kayla glared back at him. "I'm talking to my friend, bozo. What's it to you?"
"Nick." Liane put her hand on his arm. "Listen, I'll just be a few minutes. Can I talk to her?"
She's asking permission from him. This isn't right, this really isn't right. "Liane—"
"Two minutes. You got an appointment now, remember? Can't keep people waiting."
Kayla pulled Liane a few feet away, closer to a wall. "Liane, what in the hell are you doing? Nick? You're hanging out with Nick? With that total sleazeball?"
"It's not like that," Liane said, glancing at where Nick was waiting, leaning against the door of the Chevy. "Really. Nick is a cool guy once you get to know him, and he gives me lots of clothes to wear, takes me out to restaurants, buys me jewelry, and we get high all the time. It's really a lot of fun."
"Jesus, Liane, you can't mean that!"
"Kayla, you know I hated living up in Suite 230. It was dirty all the time and there was never all that much food to eat. This is so much better. I'm happy now. I'm really happy now."
"Come on, Liane, time to go," Nick said, straightening up and walking toward them.
"Liane, don't you want to . . . I mean, things are working out okay by me. You don't have to be here—"
Nick reached out suddenly and grabbed Kayla by her jacket, shoving her against the wall. "Shut your mouth, chickie. Liane knows what she's doing. She knows what's good for her."
Kayla twisted, trying to get free. Behind Nick, she could see that Liane's face was pale, her eyes wide.
I could toast you, slimeball, she thought. I could call up the magic and fry your ass.
In her mind's eye, she saw the black boy lying on the bloody apartment floor, twisting in pain.
No. Not that.
"Nick, please don't—" Liane pleaded.
Nick glanced at her, then let go of Kayla abruptly. "Sure, baby, anything you say," he said. <T>"Take a hike, chickie, don't bother us an more."
"Kayla, is there a problem?" It was Elizabet, standing a few feet away from them, holding two cups of soda. She surveyed the scene before her calmly, glaring at Nick.
"It's really okay," Liane said. "Kayla, this is what I want. I don't need your help."
"Let's go, Liane," Nick said, taking her by the arm and walking with her to his car. He opened the car door for her and gave Kayla a last furious glance. The Chevy screamed away into traffic a few seconds later.