Brenda wondered why her mother got in so late last night…getting out of a taxi at about 3 a.m. And what was with her getup? God, if word got to the gossip crowd at West Beverly High about this, she'd never hear the end of it. But then she remembered she hardly went to classes anymore. She was so done with high school and so into studying at the school of life. Even though it was so damn grueling so much so that she no longer could get a mani/pedi once a week.
Yeah life was tougher learning how to be real in the world of art but Cyrano had helped her out tremendously and she had another exhibit at the art festival in West Hollywood tonight. Such an important step upward in her career that could make or break her. Oh yeah and she had something called SATs tomorrow morning early…she had to check her busy schedule to see if she could make that. But wait didn't she have an interpretive poetry reading to attend at the coffee spot in Santa Monica?
That would have to take priority because she didn't see herself in college anyway. Not that she didn't have the brains or the talent but Cyrano and others like Blue Oyster Pearl had told her that going to a structured environment like a university might destroy her talent. Ruin her as an artist forever and she couldn't have that.
No, her parents would just have to understand and besides, Brandon would be taking the tests, going to college and be the shining academic that Jim and Cindy always wanted.
Her phone rang and she picked it up. She heard a rasping voice on the other end of the line.
"Oh god David is that you? If you're back to being a nerd, I'm so telling Donna…"
"Shut up bitch…"
That silenced her quick enough. She felt her heart squeeze inside her chest.
"Who is this…answer me damn it? Who are you?"
She'd just treat it as if she were channeling herself when she'd proven with only two days of experience to be the best Teen Crisis phone counselor ever born on the planet. Oh Andrea, the know it all of West Beverly hadn't liked that one bit but not much she could do about that.
Some people were born with all kinds of talent and some clearly were not. Perhaps if she were as untalented as Andrea, she'd be working her ass off too and too busy to have a life. That had to be the reason that Andrea was just so damn boring.
Brenda knew that wasn't a problem for her. She was so damn interesting surely to most people around her including her new crowd. But now some loser with a nasty vocabulary was on the phone trying to mess with her head. Of course she was too smart to fall for that.
"That's for me to know and you to die…before a dumb bitch like you will figure it out."
Brenda felt irritation join her fear. She couldn't be a woman of the world and betray any fear. No she had some street cred here and she had to show this loser that.
"Oh drop it…I'm so not afraid of you…"
"Oh but soon you will be," the voice rasped, "you and all of your friends will be begging for mercy before you die in front of me…just like you were asked for mercy and understanding."
Brenda thought he might be feeding her clues but that didn't exactly narrow it down.
"Can you be more specific?"
The voice laughed harshly.
"No I can't…among your pathetic crowd I didn't take you for the bimbo."
Then he hung up leaving her more confused than ever. What did he mean by pathetic crowd? She hung with the coolest, edgiest most talented artists in L.A. who the hell was he to suggest otherwise? Then she realized that the voice might have been talking about her West Beverly crowd and knew that if the bimbo wasn't her, it had to be Kelly or Donna.
She just had to figure out which one so she could discover who was getting ready to enact some twisted revenge against her.
Kelly and Donna hung out on Rodeo Drive after school hitting the boutiques. They didn't run around with Lindsey or the rest of the five finger discount crowd. No, they had images to maintain and Donna lived in constant fear that her mother would pack her up and send her to the convent. She'd only threatened it last week castigating her daughter for wearing such body hugging outfits but she refused to give in to such threats. She'd just cozy up to daddy dearest and he'd stick up for her to her mother, saying that he wanted his little girl living at home until they packed her up to go to college next year.
"Jackie would never do that to me," Kelly sniffed, "Else who'd pick up after her during a drunken binge or when she was out with her loser crowd getting high?"
Donna had heard enough of how awful Kelly had it but there were more important things to worry about…like what to wear to Steve's big party to end all parties. Donna had searched both of her walk in closets and hadn't found anything that wasn't boring or recycled. She'd thought about raiding her mother's closet but the one time they'd been in there…she'd seen some…things that told her information about her mother she really didn't want to know.
Like how much her mother seemed to like leather and vinyl. No, she wasn't going into that closet again.
"So what you going to wear?"
Donna looked at Kelly.
"Got to find something here," she said, "I'm going with David even though he'll be the DJ and I want him to be proud of me…to think I'm hot."
Kelly sighed.
"Just don't do it to tease him David because he's going to get tired of it and of you."
Donna put her hands on her hips.
"Oh Kelly…how can you say that? You think just because the two of you live together now you're the expert on him?"
Kelly reached into her bag for a celery stick with some cream cheese on it. Something to nibble on to stave off those hunger pangs.
"Okay whatever…but he's been with most of the cheerleading squad this week and everyone knows it…but you."
Donna just stared at her, mouth wide open.
Brandon knew he was being followed and he didn't want to wind up like Dylan as road kill cast aside some deserted highway.
Not someone as well adjusted as himself, who would run the world someday. He had almost been elected class president more than once but gave it up at the last moment to the losing candidate. Any time he wanted it, he could have taken it.
"Hey Brando…wait up."
He looked and saw Nick behind him wondering what was up with that. The ex-jock should hate him for that expose he did on steroids wrecking the football team a while back. Nick had wound up in rehab but some said he'd found God there and had gone on with his life.
"What do you want?"
Nick hesitated.
"I need to talk to you…about what went down in the chem lab," he said, "You should know I've never stuck myself with a drugged out needle since I was busted."
"You know about that?"
Brandon had images of Pulitzer prizes flashing inside his head. Nick nodded.
"I can't talk about it here…the walls have ears but meet me behind the gym at sundown…"
Brandon said he'd be there and watched as Nick slipped away again.
