Free Dead Politician Society by Robin Spano Page A

beforehand.”
    Clare opened the heavy door leading to the stairwell.
    â€œAm I your fool?”
    â€œUm, if you want to be. I’m not saying I think you’re poor, incidentally.” Jessica adjusted her shoulder bag. “Just, you seem like you’re new to politics. It’s a cross-party event, but half of the speakers are politicians, and the rest are environmental lobbyists.”
    Politicians and lobbyists sharing the spotlight? “Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”
    â€œThey stay civilized.” Jessica grinned. “Both sides want to look like the heroes. Since poli sci is your major now, I thought you might enjoy coming out and listening to some speeches.”
    â€œI’d love to.” They arrived at the bottom of the stairs, and Clare pushed open the door to outside. “And by the way, I grew up in a trailer. Tell your grandma the opportunity isn’t wasted.”
    Shit. Clare wasn’t supposed to be herself. At least she hadn’t said which trailer park.
    â€œSeriously?” Jessica’s eyes grew wide. “What was that like?”
    â€œLike anything else when it’s all you know.” Clare lit her smoke and stood in the shelter by the doorway. Rain was pouring all around them. “I’d take a loving family over a wealthy one any day of the week.”
    â€œSo would I.” Jessica stood with Clare.
    â€œOh god! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that your family isn’t loving.”
    Jessica laughed. “It’s okay. They are what they are. They grew up in a world that gave them a certain outlook. But I don’t think it’s their fault. They push their own boundaries, in a way. And in other ways they don’t.”
    â€œLike the rest of us,” Clare said.
    â€œI guess.” Jessica frowned. “Hey, can I try a cigarette?”
    â€œHave you ever smoked?” Clare reached into her pocket for her pack, and held it open, amused.
    â€œAt camp one year, this one girl had them. I snuck off with her a few times. It was fun.”
    Clare lit Jessica’s cigarette for her. Surprisingly, she didn’t cough at all, but inhaled it like a natural.
    â€œYeah,” Jessica said, after exhaling her first drag. “I like this. Thanks.”
    â€œWhich day is this prime minister thing again?”
    â€œSaturday.”
    â€œSaturday. Groovy.” Clare preferred to reserve Saturdays for drunken debauchery, but she supposed she could sacrifice this one for the cause.

EIGHTEEN
ANNABEL

    Annabel was getting sick. She was cold in her bones, her nose was running, and — here was the real sign — she didn’t crave alcohol as soon as she walked in her front door. She poured herself a glass of juice, popped a cold prevention pill — did those things actually work? — and changed into her fuzziest pair of sweatpants.
    She called Matthew. No response, which generally meant he was with someone. Probably eating dinner. Somewhere nice, if she was new. Chinese takeout, if they’d been at it for awhile. Annabel remembered when she’d been new. Matthew had taken her to Lewiston for dinner and a play. Ha ha, he’d even paid.
    She couldn’t bother Kat. Her sister was off living her own life, cooking dinner for her daughter, exchanging loving banter with her husband, who adored Katherine and would never be off eating Chinese food with someone he was fucking on the side.
    Maybe Utopia Girl would talk to her. Annabel pulled out her BlackBerry and toyed with the dial on the side. She could type more easily on her computer, but tonight she preferred to recline on the couch with sitcoms on TV .
    Hey, Utopia Girl,
she typed.
Tell me something about your childhood.
    The response came in a few minutes, an instant message instead of an email.
    Utopia Girl:
My childhood? Are you my shrink?
    Death Reporter:
I want a sense of who you are, what you come from.
    Utopia Girl:
If I said