Neon Girl

Scene 7 - Preshow Prep

The bottled redheads from 6B are sitting on the couch when Ripley and I walk in the door. Papa is entertaining Brandy and Lacy with his David Copperfield and the disappearing piano story while they chow on Mom's excellent chili. They better leave some.

Mom is straddling a barstool at the kitchen counter, entertaining the Captain. She's laughing even though she's heard all of Papa's stories. Lovely. The three amigos are together. My plans just got changed for me.

"Hi, Ripley." Mom leaves her lover at the bar and Ripley rushes her.

"We saw Harry," he says.

"Oh? What was Harry up to?" Mom glances at me over Ripley's shoulder.

"The usual," I say. "Drinking away his hard-earned wages."

"In the alley or in the bar?" she asks, like it matters.

"He was coming out of Seven-Eleven when Ripley and I were heading home. He had to follow us and make conversation."

"He was probably making sure you two got home safely."

When did my Mom turn into a sucker?

"Am I the only one around here who thinks Harry is up to no good?" I drop my bowling bag next to the table and make for the kitchen.

"He's an intelligent man, Mel. He has a college degree and has done a good amount of traveling. He's just hit a bump in the road. He's making plans to move to Oregon, you know."

Mom lets the Captain talk for her, but what she says intrigues me. "Does he need bus fare? I've got money saved up. I'm sick of hearing him play those damned bongos under my window." I open the fridge and grab my watered-down Slurpee. As I take a swig, I notice everyone is staring at me.

"You shouldn't be so judgmental, honey. You don't know Harry's story." Mom climbs back on her barstool, and Ripley sits next to her, fondling her hair.

"That's because Mel never sticks around long enough to hear it," Papa preaches from his faux leather podium.

"Papa, I'm not going to hang around a stinky bar listening to drunks tell stories. If Guy wasn't letting me play music there, I wouldn't step foot in that hole."

"You're going to see a lot of stinky bars before you see a legitimate stage, princess," he says.

"He's right, Mel. I had to strut my stuff in front of sloppy drunks before I made it to the topless bar at Hard Sharks." Brandy proudly pushes up her fake boobs as she offers her stripper's wisdom.

"Now the drunks you dance for are much bigger tippers." Lacy snorts out a laugh and the room laughs with her, except for Ripley.

"Well, folks. I'm outta here. I've got a party to dress for." I say this mostly to remind Mom about her promise. If she bails on me, she's going to have a load of guilt to go along with her hangover.

"Ooh, a party? Is it invite only?" Lacy asks.

"I'm afraid so."

I drag my bowling gear down the hall and close my door before anyone can stop me. Then I queue up Benny Benassi to signal the start of the fabulous part of the evening.

My hips sway as I scan the closet for my LBD, and panic sets in when I can't find it anywhere. No way did I fail to wash it after the last rave. As I throw shit left and right, my heart thuds in my chest. Then I see it hanging on the knob of my dresser, right where I put it before I left for bowling. My habit of avoiding the mess in my room is going to bite me in the ass one day.

I set up my make-up kit in front of the mirror and pick out colors. I'm going with plum and smoky grey tonight, which brings out my hazel eyes. I usually do green when I'm glamming it up, but Presley called dibs on green. Crap. I need to text her.