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own wheels are in for a major
overhaul. I can’t borrow
Mom’s car to hunt down
whiff.
Can I?
I Call Trent
Robyn’s brother is an old
friend. In fact, that’s how
I know Robyn. Trent’s great,
even if he is totally straight.
Meaning he doesn’t get high.
Because when it comes to sex,
he’s 100 hundred percent gay.
And I’m fine with things that way.
Mrs. Rosselli answers on
the third ring. Hello? Oh, it’s
you. Her voice is like a hail
storm—hard, staccato, frigid.
“Hello, Mrs. Rosselli.
Is Trent there? No?
Well, do you know
when he’ll get home, then?”
Long pause. Then, I’m not
really sure. Can I help
you with anything else?
Something’s up with her.
I’m not really looking
for Trent, anyway. “Yes.
Can you tell me how
to get hold of Robyn?”
