Perfectly Ridiculous Page 16

  “Don’t be stupid. We have to call a taxi for us anyway.”

  “I can call a friend to pick me up,” Max says.

  “You? But not us, is that what you’re saying?” I ask him. “You’ve turned into quite the villain, Max. You’re taking on a Count of Monte Cristo revenge persona.”

  “Is that what you think?” Max asks. “You’re certain it’s me then? That you didn’t betray me with my archenemy, Mercedes?”

  “I wouldn’t leave you in an American police station if you didn’t speak the language, that’s for sure. Look at what J.C. did with Libby, who never gave him a decent word. He put himself on the line for a child, and for Libby. I didn’t think I was expecting a lot to ask for your help. I would have helped you if this situation were reversed.”

  “Well, then he’s the hero of this story. You’ve already implied that.”

  Max’s hurt expression gets to me. I’m such a sucker for the underdog. Even if he made himself the underdog!

  “Max, you made it clear you were leaving America, and that was that. It’s just your ego that’s bruised. Admit that much, won’t you? If I meant something to you, you would have moved heaven and earth to pick me up for dinner when I got here.”

  He doesn’t address any of this. “All right. You two are welcome in my friend’s car. I’ll call her now.”

  “Her?” I ask with raised eyebrows.

  “Are you jealous?” J.C. asks me.

  I clear my throat. “No, I’m not jealous, but he shouldn’t be railing on me if he’s got another girl on the side. All I’m sayin’.”

  “I’m going to call my friend now. This is beyond awkward.” Max walks away from us.

  “What are you going to do about the mission requirement for school?” J.C. asks me.

  I shrug. “The truth is, I haven’t thought about it. Not until I told my parents my plan. I guess pray for the best and hope they don’t have someone lined up behind us to take our places. I can’t afford Pepperdine without the scholarship. You?”

  “I can still make it up at home at the food bank.” J.C.’s voice is somber. “But it doesn’t look good that neither one of us finished the ministry we signed up for. Hope they allow the switch. It ticks me off I won’t have that international experience on my résumé, though.”

  “Yeah. Me too. But I’d be happy to vouch for you. To tell them how you protected Libby, even if she didn’t know what you did.” I lift my hair off the back of my neck, wishing for a shower. “Somehow, losing my mission requirement—what I feared most—doesn’t seem that bad now that it’s gone.”

  “Yeah.” J.C.’s tone doesn’t agree with his answer.

  “I imagine they’ll look at our ministry histories and take them into account.”

  “You would think so.”

  “Still, I’m proud of you for what you did. It takes a lot to do so much for a person who won’t even appreciate it or know what you did for them.”

  Max has walked back to our pity party and doesn’t seem to empathize. “If you two are done with your mutual fan club, my friend is coming. Should be here in about twenty minutes.”

  “We’re only that far from Buenos Aires?”

  “Not even that far.”

  “We could have taken a cab.”

  “My point exactly,” Max comments, but I ignore his meaning. He ditched me. I’m not going to feel guilty about asking a favor when I’m in his country.

  “Well, we have to look at the silver lining, right? I’m so grateful that Claire freaked about me keeping my money on my body. All my stuff is gone except for the money and my passport.”

  “It’s all you need. You can get new clothes in town,” J.C. says. “My stuff . . . I hope they need it more than I did, that’s all I can say. At least you kept your jacket on.”

  “Let’s hope my mom won’t find a sewing machine and whip me up something while we’re down here.” I laugh at this, but no one seems to get it and I laugh alone. Claire would have totally appreciated the humor.

  Suddenly I feel alone. Very alone. I’m trying to think of some sort of stimulating conversation to fill the awkward silence, but I’ve got nothing.

  “Was this worth it?” Max asks me.

  “Was it worth you losing your car?” I shake my head. “No. I feel horrible, Max. I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.” I glance at J.C. and all his bandages. “Hurt worse, I mean.”

  Max aims those deep brown eyes straight at me with the first real eye contact he’s given me since I arrived. “You did the right thing. We don’t always get rewarded for doing the right thing.”

  “I know. It sucks.”

  “I agree,” J.C. says. “Life should be fair. I guess we all do what we can to make life as fair as we can.”

  “Only Americans think that. Other countries seem to know instinctively that life isn’t fair. You grow up watching children not have enough food to eat in your neighborhood, and you get that life isn’t fair. What did they ever do to anyone? Sin enters the world, and we all get to witness it in one way or another. J.C. here, he gets to feel it,” Max says in reference to J.C.’s bandages.

  “We know life’s not fair. In America, we do our level best to make it fair because that’s what’s right.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Max answers.

  I watch as the two guys have this invisible but palpable war going on between them to be deemed right. I’d like to believe it’s about me, but ultimately I think it’s about the male ego.

  “I’m going to el baño before we have to leave.” J.C. gets up on one leg by balancing and hobbles into the police station again.

  Max’s expression softens, and since I’ve been here, this is the first time I’ve seen the Max I thought I knew in America. Sure, he’s been charming, but not really present. Not where I felt like he was really beside me in the moment, and it brings an air of intimacy that makes me slightly uncomfortable without J.C. there.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “Sorry?”

  “I have to stay here. In Argentina. My mom is sick and there’s no one to help but me. So college is probably out of the question for right now.”

  “I thought you planned to go to school here all along.”

  “I didn’t have a choice, but watching the two of you about to go off and get educated while falling for each other doesn’t exactly help my attitude.”

  “I don’t understand. Are you trying to say something to me that I’m supposed to be reading? Because my brain doesn’t really work on that level. I need you to just say it.”

  “I was harsh with you . . . you know, silent, because—”

  “Wait a minute.” I stop him with my hand held up. “You were ignoring me on purpose?” Because here I thought I’d only imagined the dis, but come to find out it was real and, worse yet, planned.

  “Let me explain. I—”

  J.C. walks out and stands between us. “They don’t have a public restroom. Isn’t the police station a public building, so by all rights and standards, shouldn’t the restroom be public?”

  I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I just want to know what Max had to say. I want to know if he really didn’t want to dump me but did it for some self-sacrificial reason, because let’s face it, that would be totally hot.

  Max glares at J.C., who picks up on it immediately. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to Daisy alone for a minute.”

  “Daisy, you all right with that?” J.C. asks in that chivalrous way I’ve grown so fond of in a few short days.

  “Sure.”

  I’d like to be a romantic and say that Max’s explanation is at the top of my list of priorities, but really all I can think about right now is my future at Pepperdine, and how I’m going to explain to my parents that I need to change my flight home . . . or that when they finally decided to trust me, I ended up alone with two guys in a Podunk town outside of a jail without transportation. That one’s not going to look
good on a daughter résumé.

  A car pulls up and Max’s expression falls. “That’s our ride.”

  This conversation is never going to happen, so in my mind, I’m just going to pretend that he pronounces he did love me but circumstances make our being together impossible. That’s far more romantic than whatever reality may have to offer me.

  15

  Max, J.C., and I sit in awkward silence until the car pulls up to the police station. The vehicle is a black stretch town car of some sort, with international diplomacy plates.

  “I thought we were done with the embassy.”

  “It’s my friend,” Max says without further explanation.

  He opens the massive car door and bends in to offer some kind of explanation about J.C. and me. Then he motions for us to get into the vehicle. I help J.C. off the wood porch of the police station and we head to the car, grateful our excursion is finally over for the day.

  Max opens the back door and we slide in. “Hi,” I say.

  The driver turns toward me. She is gorgeous—petite, dark, and exotic features with a model’s high cheekbones and facial structure. Her hands are so tiny and delicate that I feel like a horse sliding in the backseat. Her presence makes me decide that Max’s flirtation with me was just that—a flirtation. His feelings never went where mine did, and obviously I was too infatuated to see any of it.

  She’s still fixated on Max outside the car, and the way she looks at him, as if she’s more than thrilled he called her, tells me my romantic views of life can last only so long and then reality must take its place.

  Two men. Two gorgeous guys were not in love with me. I only imagined their feelings because mine were so strong. Now I want to go running back to my mommy and Claire, and I promise myself that I will listen to their truth. No matter how difficult it is to hear, it’s better than getting my heart broken time and time again.

  The petite princess finally acknowledges my presence. The girl lets her wrist dangle over the seat and offers a limp handshake. “Rosalina,” she says. “I assume you’re Daisy?” Her English is perfect with only a hint of an accent, which makes her all the more exotic and sexy.

  I nod. “This is J.C.”

  She reaches her tiny hand to J.C. and greets him equally.

  Rather than being a woman with two guys aching for her love—competing for it, in essence—in reality, I am a girl who barely avoided jail, flunked a missionary project needed for college admission, and let down her parents, all in one fell swoop. No one can say I’m not efficient.

  “So you are Daisy. The infamous Daisy.”

  I nod again. “You know me?” Point, Max’s hot chick.

  She glances at Max and it’s not a kind look. “I’ve heard about you.”

  “So you’re going to sit in the back?” Rosalina says as though she is not happy about the situation. “Am I to be your chauffeur?”

  “J.C. needs to stretch out his leg. I think he should come up front,” Max says, eyeing me to let J.C. out of the car. “Relax, Rosa.”

  “I had to get out of work to pick you all up.”

  “We really appreciate it,” I tell her. “Max was so kind to come and get J.C. so there would be no more trouble at the mission, and he got paid back by having his car stolen. It’s really awful.”

  “I’ll bet. How will you work now, Max?” Rosalina asks him. “Can’t save for a ring without a job, can you?”

  I flinch at her words. Save for a ring? I stare at Max to see his startled expression, but it isn’t there. He’s as calm as can be. I, however, am about ready to go postal. You want to answer her, Romeo? my look asks him.

  “I’ll figure it out.”

  “You’ll what?” I ask, but his harsh eyes ask for a favor, and I take the pressure off the situation. “So, how do you two know each other?”

  “Max is my boyfriend. Soon to be my fiancé. Or didn’t he tell you?” She flips her long, dark hair around and faces me with her deep brown eyes, a look I’m certain would throw daggers if she were capable of a superpower.

  “Fiancé? Aren’t you two a little young to be thinking of marriage?”

  “Our mothers have been thinking of nothing else since we were babies. We were destined for one another. Isn’t that right, Max?” Rosalina coos.

  Max doesn’t answer, and as J.C. slips into the front seat, it occurs to me that while I didn’t have the right to date, maybe Max never did either. Only his reasons were far darker than my own. It never occurred to me that I wasn’t the problem.

  I struggle to find my happy voice, but the first sound is nothing more than a squawk. “Have you two been together long?”

  “Since before he left for America, officially, but unofficially, since we were babies. His father made him go, you know, and I thought it was going to be an international battle to get him back. To help his father with that ridiculous hot dog stand in the mall when his mother needed him. When he could have just hired some American idiot. The man knew Max’s mother needed him here. I can’t stand how selfish that was, but he’s back now.” She licks her lips when she glances at Max.

  “You speak such good English,” I tell her, trying to avoid my own feelings about Max being forced to come back to Argentina against his will.

  “My mother is the American ambassador—that’s how she met my father. It’s also how I knew where Max was before he called me. I work at the embassy coordinating NGOs. Right now I’m working on an upcoming fair to get more foreign-aid workers into the country. Nongovernmental organizations that help with the country’s needs, you understand?”

  “Wow, that’s impressive,” I say honestly. “Do any of these NGOs have need of some American help for the next week?”

  “Because?”

  “I have to do some charitable work, preferably in another country, for my scholarship at Pepperdine University, and unfortunately I didn’t really mesh with the mission where I was.”

  “Because you acted like a spoiled American? Max told me all about the spoiled Americans he dealt with when in your country.”

  “Rosalina! Daisy’s my friend—haven’t you known me to always choose my friends well?” Max asks. “I assure you that she’s no spoiled American.”

  “I’ve known you to always choose them pretty, I’ll say that much for you. But once we’re married, you’ll have to tone that down. I can be very jealous, you know.”

  “That’s so sweet, Rosalina, but wow, I can only wish I were one-tenth as exotic and beautiful as you. Max definitely had to lower his standards in America. I think I have yet to meet someone in this country who couldn’t be a movie star in America.” I hope to soften her dislike of me and find myself a ministry quickly that qualifies for Pepperdine without me having to go home and find something mundane and domestic that won’t look nearly as impressive on my résumé.

  I can see her grin in the rearview mirror, and it’s not like I was dishonest, but I’m shocked at how well she takes my compliment. She’s actually beaming a smile with her perfect white teeth and her full, naturally red lips.

  “I think it’s the healthy lifestyle. It’s a city lifestyle, but also very close to the earth. We have the best of Europe and Latin America here, and I think it shows in the people.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it, it obviously agrees with you all.”

  The tension in the car is so thick, it almost makes me wish for the freedom of the side of the road without a vehicle.

  “So you never dated Max?” Rosalina asks. “Is that what you’re trying to make me believe?”

  Max turns and glares at me, as if I was ever tempted to tell Rosalina I dated her future husband. Something tells me she has henchmen lying in wait.

  “Max had one pity dance with me at the prom. He was so sweet to do that. I had to work the Breathalyzer machine at the dance—”

  “You have a Breathalyzer machine at your high school? The teachers can’t tell if a person is drunk or not? Does anyone actually show up that way?”

  “It’s just
a precaution,” I tell her.

  “Did you find my future fiancé to be a good dancer?”

  “I did.”

  The car seems to float in slow motion as we make our way toward the city, and I wish I could beam out of this uncomfortable situation.

  “Max, you were telling me the truth?” She stares across the car and flutters her eyelashes, all while following frighteningly close to the car in front of her. “I thought for certain he’d taken an American girl for a spin. We hear a lot about your reputations.”

  “Um, car. Car up there,” I say to divert Rosa’s attentions from Max to driving. “Won’t do us any good to earn a ring if we’re not alive to get it, will it?”

  “You were saying, American girl?”

  It takes everything I have not to retort with some smart-aleck comment about the easy ways of South America, but that will get me nowhere with the mission work, not to mention I don’t even know if it’s true.

  “You can’t believe everything you hear, or acknowledge Americans by the garbage Hollywood puts out. I went to a strict Christian school, and we were expected to behave accordingly.”

  “That’s good to hear. Max can be so charming, you know. I wouldn’t blame an American girl for wanting to come back with him and be Argentine. I thought he might want to sow his wild oats while he was there in America.”

  “This car ride is actually the first time my parents have approved of me being alone with a boy. Never even had a date, so if you had something to worry about with Max, it certainly wasn’t with me.”

  She offers Max a warm smile and turns back to the road. “So what hotel are you staying at?”

  “In Recoleta, at the Palace Alvear. Is there any way we can make it to the airport before your flight?” I say to J.C.

  “Hmmm,” she says. “No way on the airport.” J.C.’s shoulders deflate. “So, rich parents, huh? Recoleta?”

  “Not mine. My best friend’s rich parents.”

  “Where is she? Back at the hotel?”

  “She’s still at the mission to finish out the week. The woman in charge liked her, but I seemed to set her nerves on edge.”