Free If You're Lucky by Yvonne Prinz Page A

of the group while Lucky was on the far right. Everyone was grinning at the camera except Fin. Fin was grinning at Lucky.

Ten
    The next morning, walking down the hill to the highway, I was thinking about Fin and Sonia. I was still wondering why Sonia had lied to me about how well they knew each other. Something strange was going on.
    A damp mist in the air was falling invisibly onto my hair. I shivered and pulled the hood of my gray sweatshirt up over my head and started up the highway toward Katy’s.
    Common sense told me I shouldn’t ask Sonia about any of this yet. I knew there was a good chance I’d end up feeling hurt again, but when I got to Katy’s I impulsively called her.
    â€œDid you sleep with him?” I surprised myself by blurting out a question that I knew was none of my business. I hated the way I sounded like a jealous girlfriend.
    â€œNo,” said Sonia. “And, by the way, it’s not really any of your business.”
    It was childish of me to even ask but I needed to know. I pictured her rolling her eyes and wanting to get off the phone.
    â€œIs he there?” Another dumb question. I’d just walked past her house.
    â€œNo. Of course not.” She sighed. I was humiliating myself.
    I tried to rationalize everything that was happening: Lucky was Sonia’s first boyfriend. Lucky is dead. Fin knew Lucky. Sonia knows Fin. If I thought about it like that, it made perfect sense. And could I really blame Sonia? I saw Fin last night too, up on the stage. I’d have done the same thing if he’d asked me instead of her. I’d have gone home with him.
    But then there was the matter of Fin just showing up in False Bay . . . and staying. Was I the only one who thought that was a little weird?
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said.
    â€œLook, it wasn’t like you’re thinking. That music was so . . . I don’t know, but it got me talking about Lucky. So, that’s what we did. We talked about Lucky. I’ve just felt so numb till now. But last night I cried. It felt good to cry. Fin cried too.”
    I dropped the phone by my side for a few seconds and squeezed my eyes shut, imagining that. I hadn’t cried yet. Was I numb like Sonia? Or was it the meds? Several times I’d punched the wall with my fist until my fingers felt broken and I was exhausted. Then I passed out, and then I had the nightmares.
    I heard Sonia’s voice and brought the phone back to my ear. “I’m here.”
    I watched out the window as Sharona’s beat-up Toyota wagon pulled off the highway into Katy’s tiny parking lot. I glanced at my watch. She was forty-seven minutes late. Not that it mattered. It was gloomy outside, not the kind of morning where kites and taffy spring to mind. I’d had three customers. Even though we were officially on the summer schedule, one person could handle Sundays like these. I touched my hand against the side of Sharona’s latte. It was lukewarm.
    â€œI’ll call you later,” I told Sonia.
    â€œSure. But don’t be mad. It’s crazy to be mad.”
    â€œI’m not mad,” I said. And I wasn’t. I guess I was just jealous.
    I clicked the phone off. Sharona’s car door swung open, and she threw a cigarette butt onto the ground and stepped on it. She exhaled a plume of smoke into the wind and yanked her handbag out of the car, throwing it over her shoulder. The bell on the door jangled.
    â€œSorry, sorry, sorry.” She breezed in, dropping her handbag next to the cash register. “I would have called but my freakin’ cell phone died right after I got a flat on the Coast Highway. This mine?” She grabbed her latte and gulped it. “Mmmmm.”
    â€œYou want me to put it in the microwave?”
    â€œNah. So, I’m on the side of the highway, pulling the spare out of my trunk, though God knows what I intended to do after that, and that guy, what’s his name