The first person I saw when I walked into Quick Silver Records, Cody's workplace, was a girl tricked out in black leather and chartreuse, with her green hair done up in crazy pigtails.
I did not belong at Quick Silver. The only black leather I owned was a Coach purse. My bubble gum pink baby doll t-shirt and Calvin Klein jeans did not cut it for her; I could tell by the curl of her lip. Ignoring her, I searched for Cody. He was two aisles over and at the back of the store. He didn't see me until I was a few steps away.
I had been nervous about this since I woke up and my stomach was in knots. I had heard about heavy metal guys who used women like tissues, another notch in their belt. But those guys hung out at bars and did drugs and were scummy. Not like Cody and the guys. They just liked metal. That's all. Right?
When he looked up and saw me, he dropped his price gun and exuberantly hugged me, lifting me off my feet and spinning me around. I was floating.
*****
"What did your parents say?" Cody wanted to know. I had been out a half hour past my curfew the night before.
"I should have called them. That's all," I answered. "Oh, and my mom is buying me a cell phone."
"A cell phone?" He sounded confused.
"When in doubt, throw money at a problem is my mother's motto. I didn't call, so buy me a phone."
He still looked perplexed.
"Nevermind, it's just the way my mom is. Something bad happens, she must spend money."
"You rich people are weird," was Cody's reply. Then he brightened. "I can't call your house, but now I can call your cell. Excellent." His white smile lifted my heart.
*****
The next day, Saturday, started the usual round of social engagements my parents required me to attend. We dined at the Club three times over the weekend and I was forced to play tennis with an eligible bachelor.
I was burning to get back to Cody and was hampered by all these formalities and wearisome parties. I used my new cell phone to call him from the Club bathroom several times.
*****
Finally Monday rolled around. First thing in the morning I dressed carefully in a white halter top and plaid shorts and went to Cody's. I knew he had the day off.
When I knocked and let myself in, I found him just out of the shower, hair still damp, drinking coffee with his bare feet up on the coffee table. He looked rather gloomy, to my surprise. I had expected an affectionate welcome, or at least a hug. He had been happy to see me on Friday.
I sat down on the couch, next to him, but felt snuggling up to him would be unwelcome, when he was in this dismal state.
I said, "I missed you."
"Did you?" he asked. That seemed like a funny question.
"Yes, I did. I couldn't wait for the weekend to be over."
"So you had fun at the Club? Playing tennis?"
"No, I hate going to the Club and never liked tennis. Why are you asking me this? I've told you that a million times."
"I thought you might have been busy with Skip." He deliberately got the name wrong. Trip was the unwanted tennis partner foisted off upon me Saturday afternoon. If this was a fit of jealousy...
"His name was Trip and he was boring. Why would I be busy with him?"
"I never heard back from you, I figured you must be busy."
I was getting angry. "Cody, how long have we known each other?"
"I don't know," he lied. I knew he knew. I had jokingly invented a new holiday to celebrate my release from Terry's clutches, and marked the date on the calendar on the fridge. May 9th. Today was June 26th. It had been about 7 weeks. 48 days, to be exact.