Page 30 of Airhead

Like that was even a possibility. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Your loss man,” Paul said, walking out into the living room with a PB&J and bag of Lays chips and heading toward the door.

“Be careful over there,” Frank said, unable to stop himself. “Don’t get in too deep.”

Paul paused halfway through the open door and grinned at Frank. “Careful is my middle name.”

If that were true, his brother wouldn’t need to be constantly bailed out. But tonight, that would be someone else’s job. Frank was going to sit on his couch and watch The Greatest American Hero followed by The Fall Guy while getting good and drunk. Tomorrow, he’d get up and go to the firehouse where he’d pick up enough shifts that he’d be too fucking tired to think about Katie Madigan and what could have been.

Chapter Fifteen

June, 1982

Katie Madigan was humming Cool Rider when she stepped out of the late matinee of Grease 2 and ran smack dab into the perfect opportunity to avenge her broken-hearted sister.

Really, who could resist when standing in front of The Creep's brand-new DeLorean?

Definitely not any of the Madigans siblings, and for sure not Katie—not when, for the past two weeks, her twin had been moping around the apartment they shared. Why? Because she'd caught that rich buttmunch with YUPPIE vanity license plates cheating on her.

Again.

And seeing The Creep's car was like, for sure, a sign that the universe wanted Katie to mete out some vengeance.

If the universe wasn't pushing her toward avenging her sister, why would she still have so much of her jumbo tub of extra-extra buttered popcorn with M&Ms left over?

Sure, she'd held onto it because it was Connie's favorite, and giving it to her might cheer her up—or at least get her to pick a different breakup song to play on repeat.

However, that didn't change the fact that Katie had the popcorn, a half-eaten Snickers already getting melty in the June heat, and an unopened can of Tab from the vending machine in the theater's arcade.

And the thing that pushed her over the line from thinking about exacting revenge in her sister's name into doing it? There wasn't another soul in sight at the Waterbury Movie House. It was just car after empty car in the parking lot. No doubt everyone was inside watching ET, Rocky III, Wrath of Khan, and Poltergeist. Grease 2 really wasn't getting the audience respect Stephanie Zinone and the Pink Ladies deserved.

Singing Cool Rider under her breath, Katie strolled past her dinged-up Pinto to the next row, where the DeLorean was parked at an angle so it took up two spots.

What a jackass.

Thank God her twin had dumped the rich jerkwad (good riddance) and had sworn this time it was for good. Now, if she'd just stop playing Skidmarks On My Heart over, and over, and over again in their tiny apartment, life would get so much better. The GoGos were great and all, but after two weeks, Katie had reached her breaking point.

Katie was into the spelling part of the Cool Rider chorus and a few steps away from the DeLorean when a loud bang made her jump. She whirled around, her heart in her throat as if she'd just gotten out of seeing Poltergeist.

Instead of a malevolent spirit talking through a TV, she spotted a guy in a bright yellow office supply store shirt picking up a see-thru garbage bag filled with packing peanuts. He'd just tossed one of the ten bags into the dumpster when a gust of wind slammed the metal lid back down. Grumbling loudly enough that Katie could hear it from across the parking lot, the guy dropped the second bag and pushed the lid open—quite a feat since the dumpster was as tall as he was. Once that was done, he picked up the bag right as the lid flopped shut again. The guy yelled out a curse and flipped off the dumpster before marching away, leaving nine garbage bags of packing peanuts in a pile in front of the dumpsters.

Katie knew the feeling. Anyone who worked in public education had those days on the regular—usually not because of the kids but because of the parents, or the administrator, or the fact that the schools were always underfunded.

And that's when inspiration hit.

After she'd taken care of The Creep's car, she'd grab the bags of packing peanuts and use them for an enrichment activity with her students. The school district never had enough money for those kinds of activities, and she could always store the giant bags in her parents’ basement until school started back up in September.

It wouldn't be the weirdest thing she or her siblings had kept in the basement. When he was eight, her brother Collin managed to hide a stray dog down there, completely undetected by their parents, for six months. It probably would have gone longer, but Dad came home early from his overnight shift at the fire department and had caught Collin taking Rufus out for a before-school walk. Some dads would have sent the mutt of undetermined parentage packing, and while their dad sure looked the part of the ‘mean dad’ with his permanent scowl and the scar that went across his cheek, he was a total softie. In fact, right now, he was probably out on the back porch drinking a Schlitz and tossing the tennis ball for Rufus The Fourth. She had to admit, it was a pretty great way to spend a June evening.

Yeah, her parents wouldn't care about nine huge bags of packing peanuts even if they did notice them.

Packing peanuts added to her mental to-do list, she stopped next to the DeLorean, knowing there was one little problem with her plan.

Along with having weird doors that went up like bird's wings, The Creep's car didn't have normal locks. That meant that she couldn't unlock the doors using her skills with a bent wire coat hanger slipped through the crack in the window. It was a skill she'd acquired since she had a bad habit of leaving her keys places—like inside her locked Pinto—and, as a third-grade teacher, didn't have the extra cash for a locksmith a few times a month.

Taking a look around the parking lot to make sure she was still alone, Katie tried the driver's side door. It opened up like something from a movie, as triumph made her giddy.

Oh yeah. Now we're cooking.