I text her back to tell her that’s fine. I don’t have much else going on, and I could use both the distraction and the cash.
I quickly scroll through to Nina’s name to read her texts, but all I see is the deleted message notice. Two of them. I check the time. She’ll be at school by now. She attends Penn State during the day like a normal nineteen-year-old. Me, I’m at the local community college for two classes this semester that I squeeze in around my work schedule.
I need to see her, but it won’t be tonight, so I change into a clean uniform, grab a bag of laundry, and head to the basement to drop it into the washing machine. On my way to the diner, I text Rachel to please put my things in the dryer when she gets home and that I’ll see her after class tonight. And I mostly try not to think about Lev or what happened last night or this morning.
With conflicting schedules, it’s a few days before I can see Nina. The first morning that I can, I text her.
Me: Hey. You around?
Nina: Yeah, just working on a project.
Me: Can I come over?
Nina: My dad’s home, and he’s got someone over but just come in around back. I’ll be upstairs.
Me: I’ll bring coffee.
I quickly brush my hair and twist it into a bun, grab a jacket and my purse, and head out. I don’t own a car, but there’s a bus stop a block away. Even though she lives in a much nicer part of town than I do, Nina’s house is only about a twenty-minute ride away. There’s almost a line you can draw between the middle class and the outright poor here, and as the bus drives out of my neighborhood and into hers, it’s like night and day.
I get off a stop early to drop in at WaWa and pick up two large French vanilla coffees. I know it’s probably fake stuff, but it’s so good and way cheaper than Starbucks across the street.
It’s a warm fall day, and I unzip my jacket as I walk along the quiet streets to the von Brandt home. There isn’t a car parked outside, so I wonder if whoever her dad has over is gone, but I slip around the back of the house anyway.
I climb the two steps up to the porch and let myself in. The door’s unlocked. Nina’s mom is usually at work by now, and I’m not really sure what her dad does. He doesn’t seem to have a regular schedule.
The house is quiet, so I wonder if it’s just Nina and me as I make my way upstairs. Her door is cracked open, and I hear the buzz of music when I push it open all the way and see her at her desk puzzling over something on her laptop.
“Hey,” I say, closing the door with the heel of my shoe.
“Hey.” She peels the headphones off her head, and the music grows louder for a moment until she switches it off. She stands up, looks me over and comes to me, giving me a big hug. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s worried.
“You okay?” I ask her as she steps back and takes one of the cups of coffee.
She nods, looking me over again. “Are you?”
I drop my purse, peel off my jacket, and sit on her bed to take a sip of coffee while I think about how to answer her question.
“I don’t know,” I finally say.
She comes to sit beside me on the bed. “I’m sorry about the Ecstasy. I didn’t know it was bad.”
“You couldn’t know, and you’ve already apologized like a hundred times. Besides, I’m fine.”
“You saw Lev again, didn’t you?”
“How do you know him? Who is he exactly?” I ask.
She looks away, sips her coffee. “My dad. They sorta work together sometimes,” she finally says. “Why did you see him again, Kat?”
“I’d forgotten my scarf at the club, and he brought it over.”
“Well, I guess that was nice of him,” she says sarcastically.
“Isn’t he nice?” I probe.
“I shouldn’t have taken you to Delirium. We should have gone somewhere else.”
“Why?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. Just tell me what you guys did.”
“He took me to dinner and told me to stay away from the club, and then we went back to his house, and…I spent the night.”
“You what?”
I decide not to mention the fact we weren’t super careful about it either. Although I’d just finished my period so at least I won’t get pregnant.
I set my cup down on the nightstand and scrub my face with both hands. “It was great. The night, I mean. He was amazing. Nice and caring—”
She snorts.
“But then in the morning, he got weird, and I don’t know. It was just...strange.”
She bites her lip as if she’s considering something. “Listen Kat, you gotta stay away from him. He’s not a nice guy, okay?”
“Tell me who he is.”
“Just trust me.”
“He told me I wouldn’t see him again anyway, so I guess he’ll make sure I stay away.”
“He told you that?”
I nod.
She nods too, and I get the feeling she wants to say something, but she doesn’t, so I continue.
“It was really odd, Nina. Like night and day. He was outright icy in the morning, then he got a call which seemed to piss him off more, and I kinda jumped out of the car when we got caught in traffic.”
“You jumped out of his car?” Her eyebrows disappear into her hairline.
“Well, yes. It just seemed like he really didn’t want me there anyway, but then he caught up with me, and that was when things got…really weird.”
“Really weird how?”
“Dark.”
“What do you mean?”
“He brought me home, and then we…you know. Again.”
She does that thing with her eyebrows again. “Christ, Kat! Of all the people you could pick!”
“But it was different. He was…different.”
“Different how?”
“Not as caring, I guess.” I pause, and she doesn’t seem surprised. “Who is he? I wish someone would tell me. He deleted the texts you sent me, so I didn’t even get to read them.”
“Well that explains things.”
“Explains what things?”
She gets up, walking to the window. “Nothing. Shit.”
I go over to her and look outside to find a man in a dark suit walk out of her house and down the street.
“Who’s that?”
“I don’t know. I just hope my dad isn’t being stupid.”
“What’s going on, Nina?”
Her phone dings, and she turns to pick it up off her desk. “Look, I’m late.”
“You know about him. You know who he is. You knew at the club, and he scared you.”
Her face goes a little paler. “His uncle is into some bad shit. That’s all.”
“He works for his uncle.”
“Yeah, well, do the math and stay away from him. He’s bad news.” She sighs. “I really gotta go. I’ll walk you out.”
“At least tell me what kind of bad shit.”
She stops and looks at me with an expression of worry and pity and pretty much nothing good.
“Russian mafia, Kat. The fucking Russian mafia kind.”
Six weeks later