At the sight of her back, Lee pursed her lips.
“Most of that’s from broken glass,” I explained.
“You’d better come with me, Slim. We’ll get you cleaned up and bandaged.”
Looking a little embarrassed, Slim nodded.
“You guys wait here,” Lee told us. “We won’t be long.”
We watched Slim and Lee leave the room. A couple of minutes later, water came on and rushed through the pipes.
Rusty met my eyes. “Sounds like somebody’s taking a bath,” he whispered.
“Or a shower.”
“Who do you think it is?”
“Who do you think?”
A smile spreading across his cherubic face, Rusty said, “Wanta find out?” He started to rise from the sofa.
“Stay put,” I said.
He stood up. “I know we can’t look. As if they’d leave the door open. But maybe we can hear something.”
“Forget it.”
“Come on, man.”
“Don’t you think we’ve screwed up enough for one day?”
Looking disappointed in me, he said, “You’re such a chicken.”
“If you say so.”
“Come on. It’ll be cool.”
“No. ”
“I tell you what. You wait here where it’s nice and safe and I’ll go listen.”
“No you won’t.”
He lifted his eyebrows. In a quiet, taunting voice, he said, “Slim’s probably nude in there, you know.”
“Knock it off.”
“Maybe Lee, too. Maybe she got in the shower with Slim to help wash her back.”
I saw it in my mind. Rusty was obviously seeing it in his mind, too, and I didn’t like that. I stepped up close to him—so close that our stomach’s touched—and looked him in the eyes.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered. “Forget it. Never mind.” He backed away and sank onto the sofa.
After a while, I calmed down. I walked to the other side of the room and sat in an armchair.
We both sat in silence.
Rusty was careful not to look at me.
The water kept rushing through the pipes.
Chapter Twenty-two
When the water shut off, Rusty lifted his head and looked at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re not so pure, that’s all. You’re no purer than me, you’re just scared of getting caught.”
“Up yours.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Shut up, okay? They might be able to hear us.”
He closed his mouth and gave me a smug, knowing smile. He knew he was right, and I knew he wasn’t far from wrong.
We didn’t say anything else. After a while, we heard a door unlatch. Then came quiet footsteps and voices.
Lee saying, “I’ll have to give him a try.”
Slim saying, “I’ve got an extra copy of The Temple of Gold I can let you read.”
“Great.”
“I’ll bring it over sometime.”
Then they walked into the living room. Lee, dressed the same as before, was carrying my sneakers, Rusty’s shirt, and a brown paper grocery bag with its top crumpled shut.
Slim, with nothing in her hands, had the clean, fresh look of someone who’d just taken a bath or shower. She wore clothes that must’ve belonged to Lee: a loose white T-shirt, red shorts, white crew socks and white sneakers. The T-shirt completely covered her shorts, but I could see through it enough to tell their color. I could also tell where bandages had been applied, and that she no longer wore her bikini top.
Her bikini and cut-off jeans were probably in the grocery bag Lee was carrying.
Evidently, Lee didn’t own a bra in Slim’s size.
When I realized I was staring at Slim’s chest, I quickly turned my eyes to Lee. “How’d it go?” I asked.
“I think she’ll live. But since she refuses to see a doctor, I guess she’ll have to go stitchless.”
“My cuts aren’t that bad,” Slim said.
“They aren’t that good, either.” Lee dropped the sneakers in front of my feet, stepped toward the sofa and tossed the shirt to Rusty.
While I put on my shoes and Rusty put on his shirt, Lee set the grocery sack on the coffee table. Then she sank onto the sofa beside Rusty, settled back against the cushion, swung her legs onto the coffee table and crossed her ankles. She sighed as if relieved to be off her feet.