NOT What I Was Expecting by Tallulah Anne Scott Page B

making me crave a
Hershey bar real bad.
    At that moment, I
saw CeCe sidling up behind him, obviously trying to sniff his shoulder.  When
she was inches away, Luke sensed something over his shoulder and turned to
look.  CeCe looked like she got caught with her hand in the cookie jar, and
Luke just looked confused.
    “Luke, this is my
cousin CeCe.  She’s the one I own the shop with.  CeCe, this is Fry’s friend,
Luke,” I explained as I introduced them.
    “Oh, sure,” he
said as light dawned.  “I recognize you now.  Sorry, but high school was a long
time ago.  It’s nice to see you again CeCe.”
    CeCe smiled and
chirped, “You know it.”
    Why did she have
to use her super-cool line?  Anything but the super-cool line.  This would be a
good time to exit.
    “Well, we should
be going,” I began the wrap up. “We’ve still got an errand to run for our
mothers, and we’ve got to get back to the shop to relieve Fry.”
    “Yeah,” agreed
CeCe.  “We need to go by the sheriff’s station and get some advice from Deputy
Ben on starting a neighborhood watch.  He is an expert in that area, you
know.”  CeCe nodded her head slowly up and down like we should be impressed.  After
a couple of beats, Luke and I realized what was expected.
    He started the “ahs”
and other impressed comments, while I nodded in agreement.
    Luke started to
back up, looked at me, and said, “See you around, I hope,” and then to CeCe,
“See ya, CeCe.”
    “Bye,” we said in
stereo.  We turned and walked toward the door.  My legs did not feel
normal.  I hoped it looked like I was walking normally, because I just couldn’t
seem to get a smooth stride going.  What’s with that?  Nobody has ever hit me
this hard, not even in high school when you’re supposed to be all emotional,
vulnerable, overreacting and stuff.  It was starting to make me a little
nervous.  I needed to sit down.
     
    On the short drive
from the library to the police station, CeCe primped feverishly.  “You know,” she
said excitedly, “that girl at the makeup counter was right.  If I put this
gloss on over this red lipstick, my lips look much fuller.  Don’t you think?”
    I turned to check
it out.  They looked fuller, yes.  They were also so wet it looked as if she’d
been drooling all over herself, and it was about to drip on her chin.
    How could I put
this nicely?  “Yuck,” I said.  “Too goopy-gloppy.”
    “Really?” cried
CeCe, all shrill and panicky.  “Oh, no.  Get it off!  Get if off!”
    “Relax.  There’s
time to redo before we get to the station,” I, the voice of reason, said
calmly.
    “Slow down,” CeCe
begged.
    I tried to ignore
all the impatient drivers and their not so nice comments as we crept across
town.  I guess there actually isn’t much I wouldn’t do for CeCe.  By the time
we coasted into a visitor’s parking spot at the sheriff’s station, CeCe’s lips
were supermodel perfect.  She was ready to wow Deputy Ben.
    “Now remember,” I
told her, “we’re here to get information on a neighborhood watch program for the
sisters, not just to scope out Deputy Ben.  Understood?”
    “I know, but we
can squeeze in a little stealth stalking too,” CeCe pointed out.  “It won’t
hurt.”
    “Of course we can
check up on him,” I agreed.  “It’s not like anyone has taken out a restraining
order or anything – yet.  Just remember we’ve also got to get the information
we came for,” I reminded her. 
    “Absolutely,” CeCe
said flashing me that excited, conspiratorial smile for the second time today.
    We entered the
main doors to the station and asked the young woman at the front desk if Deputy
Ben was available to speak to us about neighborhood watch programs.  The young
officer asked us to have a seat for a minute.  We sat on the chairs she
indicated, which were up against the outside wall.
    CeCe immediately
grabbed my hand hard.
    “Ouch,” I
whispered loudly.
    “Sorry,”