around for Xander and Rini. But if I was a little late, that was fine. They could wait for me for once.
As we threaded through the crowd again , I marveled at the plentiful amount of hot chicks that had infiltrated the party. Almost all of them were wearing some variation of the enamel bat pendant, so apparently, it really was the biggest trend in town. As Violet pulled me past a slightly dorky guy looking out of place in his baggy pants and reversed baseball hat, I heard a female voice yell, “You’re next,” and the kid flinched in reaction. Looking down the front of his shirt in bewilderment, Mr. Baseball Hat scraped something red and slimy onto the ground. There was the shriek of teenage girls laughing hysterically. I spun around, assuming whoever had targeted the poor guy was the same bimbo who had stained my favorite jacket. But in the sea of dazzling females, I couldn’t identify the culprit. “Come on,” Violet said, impatiently yanking on my arm.
We skirted around left of the dance floor, then past more art, then to a railing along the side of a wide flight of stairs. They must have led down to the main entrance where people used to come up to grab the streetcars. “There.” Violet gestured over the railing toward the steps. “It’s down there.”
I peered over the side where she’d indicated, only to see that the lower steps were covered with scummy green water like someone had neglected to clean their pool for a few seasons. Some installation artist was projecting black and white images of old Cleveland onto the water. Now, I love old photographs, especially of Cleveland, so I found the whole thing kind of cool, but it wasn’t exactly breathtaking. “This is what you wanted to show me?” I wondered. “You like this?”
She peered over the railing. “Down there,” she said with a petulant little frown, then she met my gaze, her eyes sparkling. “I love it.”
“Al l right.” I pulled out my phone. “If you like it so much, let’s get a picture of it.” I wasn’t the first teenage guy to indulge the whims of a pretty girl, and I wouldn’t be the last.
I lined up the shot and was about to snap a photo when, giggling, Violet Girl smacked my elbow jarring the phone out of my hand. I fumbled for it and caught the corner briefly with the tips of my fingers, but that only caused it to cartwheel faster over the railing, spinning end-over-end toward the murky green water. “No!” I shouted as I watched my phone fall.
The weird thing was, the phone didn’t exactly splash into the water. It kind of fell through the water , bounced off a couple of steps, and clattered to a halt. I gazed down at it, wondering if I leapt over the railing and snatched it from the drink whether it would be any less fried than if I simply strolled down the steps to retrieve it.
I felt my face grow hot with anger. It was one thing to dance a guy around a little to gain access to his friend, but there was no excuse for knocking my phone in the muck. I don’t care how cute a girl is; there are limits. “What the hell did you do that for?” I snapped at Violet Girl. But when I turned to shoot her a death glare, she was gone. “Great,” I grumbled, looking forlornly over the railing, “just trash my phone and leave, why don’t you?”
“What are you looking at?” Xander appeared at my side, peering over the railing.
“My phone’s down there,” I explained, jerking my thumb toward the steps.
Xander’s face fell. “What? In that green scunge?” A nod of my head caused him to squint and crane his neck forward. “What’s it doing down there?”
Now, I know it was absolutely not Xander’s fault that my cell had drown ed, but I felt irrationally irritated with him anyway. If women from all walks of life weren’t constantly pursuing him then I wouldn’t have been caught up in said pursuit, and my phone would be alive and happily nestled in the breast pocket of my sport coat. I inhaled a deep breath with