ACE OF DIAMONDS by Rick Moya (spring 1997) I play solitaire on my computer for hours every night. I'm a chronic insomniac, and one would think a boring game like that would eventually put me to sleep. But it still takes forever. And I never win. Maybe that's about to change, though. I'm one card away from running this thing. I move a stack to a different pile and flip over the card underneath. Denied. Eight of clubs. Looking around, I see absolutely no place to put it. The last two unflipped cards are stuck under it. I sigh. Well, at least I didn't break my perfect record. I glance at the clock. 3:15. Got a Thespians meeting before school. I should probably try to get some sleep. I shut off the computer and slide under the covers. Maybe I'll actually fall asleep tonight. Nope. I slap the alarm clock off the bedside table at 6 and roll out of bed. For whatever reason, Thespian meetings are at this ungodly hour of the morning, before the sun's even up. Not that I have trouble rising. I've maybe slept ten hours in the last week. I dress quietly so I don't wake my parents or sister. Oversized polo shirt, baggy pants, imitation Doc Martens. I brush my long hair back with my fingers as I head for the kitchen. It's white right now, but a couple of weeks ago it was red, and before that, black with green streaks. Hey, the preppies have their definition of what the "drama freak" should look like, and I don't want to disappoint them. In the kitchen, I check inside the fridge. Nothing. I settle for my usual Mountain Dew and head out the door. Once outside, I smack myself in the forehead. Like an idiot, as usual, I've forgotten not only my books but my keys and wallet. I go back to my room. Glancing idly at the untouched books on my desk, I stuff my keys into my pocket and clip my wallet chain onto my belt loop. A vague memory of homework due is running around in my mind, but I squash it. It's April, I'm a senior. Let it be. Of course, I've been reciting that mantra since October. I still get the grades I need. And I've already been accepted to the University of Washington, so who the hell cares? Scooping up my books, I head out once again. The creaking of an opening door stops me, and I turn to see who I've woken up. Janet, my youngest sister, peeks out of the room she shares with Claire. "Mike?" "Shh. Yeah, it's me. Did I wake you up?" She shakes her head. "I couldn't sleep." I smile. Only eight, and the kid already takes after me. We're much closer than either of us is to Claire, who could sleep through a train wreck. She thinks we're both weird, of course, but that could also be because she's twelve and hitting the time where she hates her family. "It's okay. Watch some TV. That's what I do. But keep the sound down. Mom and Dad are still sleeping." She nods and heads out to the living room. I quietly close the door to her room and follow her out. "Are you going already?" she asks as I open the door. "Yeah. I have my Thespians meeting. I'll see you later." "Bye." She clicks on the TV and settles back into the couch. I go back outside and unlock my car, a dingy white Volvo. I toss my books into the passenger seat and climb in after them. As I pull out of the driveway, I think about the day that lies ahead. Thespian meeting. I was nominated for president, but I turned it down. They voted me secretary anyway. After that, drama class, art class, creative writing class, lunch, and naptime. Officially, it's history, math, and economics, but since they're all senior classes, the teachers have pretty much stopped trying by now. I also face singlehood today. Over the weekend, my girlfriend of four months broke up with me. I had it coming. I was constantly forgetting her. And it's not like I had anything better to think about. It's just that I was always preparing for the next play, and that took over everything else in my mind. I pull up in front of the school. Karen Milligan, the Thespian president and my best friend, is waiting by the entrance to the school, smoking a cigarette. I grab my books and walk over to her. "Those things are gonna kill you," I say, dropping my books and sitting on them. She takes another drag. "You look like shit." "Well, it's nice to see you, too." "Seriously, Mike. You have to start sleeping." "I wish. I lie down, and nothing for six hours. I'd rather do something useful." "Since when is solitaire considered useful?" "You know what I mean." "Yeah." She stubs the cigarette out against the wall. "So how's Tracy?" "Couldn't tell you. We broke up." "I knew it. It doesn't bother you or anything, does it?" "No. It was pretty mutual the way it happened. She decided I was being a jerk and not paying attention to her, and I agreed." I stand and scoop up my books. "What bothers me is this is my fourth relationship to end this way. I get caught up in stuff -- stupid stuff -- and I don't think about her anymore." "You need to rethink your priorities." She pulls back her long brown hair, careful to leave the single tricolor braid hanging free, and puts a rubber band around it. "School's not important. Work's not important. Love is what's important." "Sure, you can say that now. Marty's got a good job." Karen's boyfriend of four years was making union scale at a cereal factory driving a forklift. "Good isn't the word I'd use." She follows me into the school. "And remember when he graduated? His parents kicked him out when he didn't go to college. He lived with his grandparents and did nothing for six months. And I stayed with him." I chuckle. "Man, if he starts hitting you, you're gonna be stuck. He's gonna guilt all this on you." "He's not going to hit me. He knows I'll kick his ass. The point is we love each other, no matter what." I shake my head and hold the drama room door for her. "I guess I'm just not ready for that. When there's something else going on, I focus on that. Especially if it's preparing for a role." "So just pretend the relationship is another role." She goes in. I stand there, thinking about it. "That just might work," I mutter to myself. "I'll have to try that next time." I follow her, letting the door swing shut behind me. * * * I come out of my economics class and slam into a wall. Or more appropriately, it slams into me. Looking up, I see Steve Lund standing in front of me. Lund is your perfect picture of a jock -- square jaw, cold blue eyes, broad shoulders. He's got it down to the Cowboys hat. (Even here in Baytown, so close to Houston, nobody wears an Oilers hat.) The main thing about Lund's jock image, though, is tormenting drama freaks. I've been his main target since our freshman year. "Sorry, no autographs," I say. "Shut up, freak." He stares me in the eye. "You know what I'm here for." I sigh. "More mindless teasing, I'll bet." "You got it." I glance at my watch. "Okay, well, make it quick. I've got a rehearsal in fifteen minutes." He says nothing, just glares at me. "Look, Steve, if you didn't come prepared, I'm afraid I can't help you. Now if you'll excuse me...." I start to move past him. He palms my chest and shoves me back. "You ain't going anywhere." "Okay, well, let's get on with it. Why don't you start with what I did to you in the first place?" His eyes narrow. "You were born." "All right. Well, on behalf of my parents, I apologize. If it makes you feel any better, it'll be over in a relatively short time." He takes a step toward me. "Why don't we end it right now in the parking lot?" "Can't. Like I said, I have a rehearsal." "You're chicken." "No, I just like my life. There's a difference. Now let me by." I move again, and he pushes me back. Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder. It spins me around, and I catch the briefest glimpse of a red-haired girl before she presses her lips to mine. My first thought, naturally, is [Tracy's come back to me]. But then I remember. Tracy has blonde hair. The redhead pulls away. As she does so, I hear the faintest of whispers escape her lips, so that I'm the only one to catch the words. "Play along." I don't miss a beat. "Well, it's nice to see you, too." I gesture at Lund. "I'm kinda in the middle of something, though." "So I noticed." She turns to him. "I need to talk to Mike for a minute before you kill him." He smirks. "Saved by your girlfriend. I'll be looking for you again tomorrow." He turns and storms off. I look back at the girl. "Thanks." "Don't mention it. Where can we go to talk in private?" "The library. In a school full of rednecks like Lund, it hardly ever gets used." I take her hand and we head for the library. "By the way, my name's Shannon." "Nice to meet you. You obviously know me." "Yeah, I saw you in the school's production of The Rainmaker. You were great. That's why I picked you." She pushes open the library door. I follow her in. "Picked. So you weren't taken in by my irresistable charm." I grin as we sit down at a table. "No, not exactly." She leans across and takes my hands. "Here's the drill. I'm new here. I've been here less than a month, and already there's this guy hitting on me. I can't stand him. He's repulsive." "And so you want me to pose as your boyfriend to throw him off." "Exactly. I've had my eye on you since I've been here. You're great at making people believe things that aren't real. That's what I want you to do for me." "Intriguing." I lean back in my chair. "So what's in it for me?" "Mostly, just the chance to make people believe something that isn't real. Plus, I know you hate the hierarchy of romance. If you step in with me this soon after breaking up with Tracy, you can shatter the image and gain notoriety." "When people see us, they'll think bad things?" She nods. "Like you're a two-timer. Stuff like that." I grin. "Good enough for me. I'm in. So how much exactly do you know about me?" She sits back in her own chair. "Mike Simmons. You're six-two, 185, you're a senior, you have two younger sisters, you're going to the University of Washington next year, and you're one hell of an actor. Plus some." "What'd you do, pull my file?" "Yep." "Nice work. Now what do I need to know about you." "For now, all you need is Shannon Stackhouse, junior. That'll last you through the afternoon. I'll call you after your rehearsal and give more details." "Rehearsal!" I glance at my watch. "Thanks for reminding me. I better get over there." She stands. "I'll walk with you." As we approach the theater, I see Karen waiting for me. Shannon turns and kisses me once more. "I'll call you tonight." She walks off. "Who was that?" Karen asks. I rub my chin and look after Shannon. "My next costar." * * * "Mike!" I turn to see Tracy heading down the hall toward me. I've been expecting her all day, and have been preparing for this confrontation. In our phone conversation last night, Shannon and I went over a plan. Our mission is to convince the entire school population that we've been dating since Sunday. I hope it works on the girl I "left for her." "Who's that girl I saw you with earlier today?" she asks, keeping her distance. "Her name's Shannon." "Are you going out with her?" I nod. "But we just broke up on Saturday." "I know. I started seeing Shannon on Sunday." "I see." She looks down. "So we really broke up because...." She trails off in a whisper. I can't do this to her. Regardless of my role, I can't destroy the heart of a girl I still have feelings for. "No, it's not like that at all. You dumped *me*, remember. And you had every right to. I met Shannon Sunday, she asked me out, and I thought maybe I could get it right this time." She looks at me. It's an attempt at a stony glare, broken by forming tears. "Well, for your sake, I hope you can. But if you treat her anything like you treated me, you're doomed." She's trying to spit the words out venomously, but the wavers in her voice give away the suppressed sobs. She turns and runs off. Down the hall, I hear Shannon's voice. "No! I keep telling you, I have a boyfriend!" "Oh, come on. You've been trying to get rid of me for the last month with that line." The returning voice has a slightly Spanish accent. "I know you're single, Shannon." She emerges from the crowd, the guy hot on her heels. He's only about her height, a head shorter than me, his covered with black stubble. I wave to her and her eyes light up. She mouths a thank you before falling into my arms. "Who's your friend?" I ask when we separate. "This is Cesar," she says. "The guy I told you about. Cesar, this is Mike. My boyfriend." She emphasizes the last two words. "Yeah, I know." He looks me over. "Well, maybe when he graduates, you and me can hook up." "I doubt that," she says. I kiss her again for emphasis. He snorts, turns, and shuffles off. I glance at her. "So what *are* you going to do when I graduate? I'm moving to Seattle for school." "I'll put up the facade of a long-distance relationship." She brushes a stray red curl behind her ear. "So what do we do for lunch?" "Let's see." I glance at my watch. "It's Tuesday. That means we hit McDonald's...." I trail off, remembering something she told me last night. "But you're a vegetarian, so maybe we should skip out on that." "No, it's okay. I can live on french fries today for the sake of appearances." "Are you sure?" "Yes. If I make you give up your routine now, it's going to look suspicious, like I've already got you bowing to me after two days." "But Cesar said a month." "We agreed on Sunday. What Cesar says doesn't mean anything. If he asks around, he'll see you were previously engaged. I think we both know he knew it was all BS, up until now, as far as he knows." I think about this for a minute. She's right. My relationship and breakup with Tracy are pretty common knowledge, even more so since this morning when the gossip wheels started spinning. He won't have to go far to find out this is a new thing. Still, I wonder how she plans to justify telling him she's had the same boyfriend for a month. I'd be suspicious, even if I knew it was a line of crap. I shake it off. This is her charade. It's her problem to figure out. I'm just the costar. "I guess you're right." I put an arm around her shoulder. "I ride with Karen. She's got room for one more, and she's used to Tracy, anyway." Glancing over at the corner as we walk off, I see Tracy's face. She swipes at it blindly before noticing me looking and ducking into the hall. The poor girl. I think she still likes me, and I know I still like her. Is it worth it to carry this out for a girl I've never met until yesterday and risk hurting one I still like? I'll let Shannon play her own hand. I've got my own cards to sort. * * * Janet looks up from the couch as I open the door. "How was practice?" she starts to ask. She trails off when she sees Shannon come in behind me. "It was okay," I answer. "Karen's really nailing her lines, but I...." "Who is this?" Claire spits from behind me. I turn to see her standing in the hallway. "Oh, right." I put my arm around Shannon. "This is Shannon. I've been seeing her since Tracy broke up with me." "She broke up with you?" The words come out angry, but I hear a smile in her voice. "What, did she decide you were too much of a freak?" I have to grin. Claire really knows how to dig. "Yeah, something like that. I brought Shan to help me study for history." "Yeah, whatever. Just keep the heavy breathing down. I've got a lot of homework." She whirls and stomps back into her room, slamming the door behind her. Shannon blinks. "I don't know whether to be surprised or offended." "Both." Janet clicks the remote angrily. "She's such a jerk." "Shut up, Janet!" Claire yells from her room. "Shut up yourself!" Janet yells back. "Shannon, this is Claire." I gesture at the space in the hall. "And over there is Janet." "Hi." Janet waves. Shannon waves back, then turns to me. "So let's get started." I nod and we turn back toward my room. "Wait," Janet calls. "Aren't you going to watch Power Rangers with me?" Shannon raises an eyebrow at me. I sigh. "It's something we always do together. Besides, some of those fight scenes are kinda cool." "Well...." She glances at the living room. "I've never actually seen it, so I might as well see why." A half hour later, we wander back to my room. "That was one of the cheesiest, if not *the* cheesiest, thing I've ever seen," Shannon comments. "Why does a brilliant actor like you watch trash like that?" "Mostly for Janet." I pull out my desk chair and sit down. "With Claire in her room, she doesn't get a good sibling relationship. I feel like I need to provide that." "And you do a good job." Shannon sits on the corner of the bed. "You don't think Claire really hates you, do you?" I shake my head. "Until she started junior high, she was great to be around. Then it became uncool to like your family. The only time she comes out of her room is at dinner. Mom still feels the whole family should sit down and eat together. So Claire sits there, doesn't say a word, and goes back to her room as soon as it's over." "Must be rough on your mom." "Yeah, especially given what Claire used to be like." I pull my history book from the bottom of the pile. "So what chapter are we on?" "You'd know more than I would. I'm only a junior, remember?" She laughs. "Besides, you made that line up for your sisters." "Well, still, I need to study. This is the last test before my final, and I've been getting all my sleep in class." She gestures at my computer. "That thing takes up all your desk space. How do you get any studying done?" "Usually, I don't. I can get what I need out of the class. I do all my homework on the computer." "What about math?" "I don't have a math class. Last time I did, the computer wasn't here." She shakes her head. "I don't know how you do it. Back in --" She hesitates, not long, but enough for me to catch. "-- my old school, I could never do any work without a pen in my hand." "What were you about to say?" She shakes her head again, this time looking down. "It's not important." "Well, obviously, it is, or you wouldn't be keeping it from me." "Listen, it was just a slip of the tongue. It doesn't concern you. Remember, we're just in this for show." "I know that." Still, she really is great fun to be with, even if we're both acting. She's cute, smart, funny, and quick with the jabs. Shannon's probably the kind of girl I would have picked for myself, if she hadn't picked me up first. In fact, she's almost just -- Just like Tracy. I clear my throat and continue. "I just think we need to keep the appearance. If it had to do with something in your past, I'd like to know so we have more of a togetherness look." "No, it doesn't matter. I wouldn't have told you this even if we were really dating." She looks down at my book. "What are you studying?" We review for a while (she actually knows a lot, given she's not in the class), but the whole time I can't get her remark out of my head. What's so serious about her past that she won't tell me about it? She hasn't told me anything about where she's from. I don't even know where she lives. I'm starting to wonder if she has another reason for taking me on. I don't know what her game is anymore. It started out that we were equal players in this plot. But more and more I'm starting to feel like just another card in her hand. * * * "You changed your hair," Karen notes as I approach her before our Thespian meeting. I run a hand through my newly blue locks as I sit next to her. "Good eye." "Why?" "I'd been white for what, three weeks? It was time for a change. Shannon suggested blue, so I went for it." She takes a drag on her cigarette. "You've never followed color suggestions before. In fact, you've spitefully gone against them." "I know. But I want this to work out. I took your advice. This relationship has become the most important role in my life." She half-smiles, the closest indication to happiness Karen ever gives. "I told you." "Yeah. And the great thing about it is we're getting closer than I ever thought we could. I think I'm really falling for her." She glances at me. "What?" Caught in a slip. I scramble to cover. "Well, you know, to start seeing someone, sure, the initial spark has to be there. But now, for the first time, I'm thinking it's more. I'm thinking it's love." "So it wasn't love when you got together?" "Get real. I'd just broken up with Tracy Saturday night. When I ran into Shan Sunday, she asked *me* out. I agreed more out of loneliness than anything." "See, that's another thing that's been bothering me." She turns to face me full front. "You break up with Tracy on Saturday, but you get toghether with Shannon on Sunday. Why are you still complaining about failed relationships Monday?" She points her cigarette at me. "You're hiding something, Mike." I sigh. It had worked on everyone else, but Karen and I had already shared so much there was no way anymore. "Okay. You got me. But I'll tell you about it later. It's kind of a long story, and we have to get into the meeting." * * * "I had to tell Karen about us today," I whisper to Shannon as we walk down the deserted hall after rehearsal. "What? Are you insane?" "She would have found out herself eventually. Besides, she's cool. She won't tell anybody, I promise." "Yeah, but still...." Shannon toys with the end of a red curl. "Even one other person knowing is one too many. If this is going to work, we have to keep our true relationship a secret." "Well, I've been thinking about that." I stop walking and take her hand. "We've been together for four days, just acting, and I feel more for you than I have for my real girlfriends before. So I'd like to give this a try for real. No more acting, just you and me really together. What do you say?" Her mouth drops open. But before she can answer me, a door slams at the end of the hall. We look over and see Cesar and another guy, a tall white guy with a brown brush cut. Holding guns. "Run!" Shannon screams, dragging me toward the staircase. I don't need to be told twice. I follow her up to the next floor. Running footsteps echo in the hall as they give chase. I catch up to Shannon and tap her arm. "This way!" I steer her down a narrow hallway on the right. She nudges several doors ajar, then we make another turn and come to a halt in the custodian's closet. I slam the door behind us and turn on the light. "No light," she says, sitting on an overturned bucket. I switch it off and sit on the floor next to her. We hear footsteps in the hall. "Think she's in one of these rooms?" the white guy asks. "Naw, man. She's smarter than to close herself into a dead end." The footsteps get closer. "She probably ran out this hall door." "Who's that other guy she was with?" "Just some prop, I think. Everyone knows McGee don't like guys. Come on." A door opens and closes. I hear Shannon get up and walk over to the light switch. She flips it on, and I'm blind for a second. When I can see again, I look up into her eyes. "I get the distinct feeling you didn't tell me everything about yourself." She looks down. "I didn't. And I had a feeling this was going to happen." She pulls a contact lens case out of one of her pockets and comes back to the bucket. "You were straight with Karen. It's time for me to be straight with you." She removes her contacts and puts the case away. When she looks back at me, her eyes are a stunning shade of violet. "My name's not Shannon Stackhouse. It's Heather McGee. I'm an agent for hire. Those guys are two thieves I've been tracking for a couple years. I finally found what I was looking for today, and I think they know it." "So what was it?" She pulls up her shirt. A strip of tape covers her navel, and she rips it off. Inside, something sparkles. She removes it. It's the biggest diamond I've ever seen. "This." I take it. The thing is at least an inch diameter, sparkling like a sunlit ocean even in the dim light of the closet. "It's the Amazoness diamond," she continues. "Eighty carats, worth a quarter million dollars." "How did this start?" I give the stone back to her. "It's a long story." She fits it back into her navel. "I've got time." She rearranges herself on the bucket. "Okay. Two years ago, I got a call from this rich guy in Chicago. His name's not important. So I went to see him, and it turns out he's the owner of the diamond. He called because it had been stolen by two guys, one short, one tall. They were wearing all black. He saw them taking the stone from its case, and he tried to stop them, but the short one Maced him. When he could see again, they were gone, and so was the diamond. "Now, first of all, it was stupid of him to keep a rock that big in a case without an alarm. Second, he should have had guards, or dogs at least. But I didn't say so, because he did first. Besides, he offered me fifty thousand to get it back. "He did have security cameras, hooked to the cops, but they were too late, too. So I pulled a few strings and got the tape from the cops and studied it. I recognized the short guy from the gun in his belt. he's the only guy I know with a gun like that. We used to work together, then he left the agency to work by himself." "Wait a sec," I interrupt. "What's this agency?" She sighs. "The name's Wederhauser Incorporated. We're basically PIs for hire. You have to have some police work or a degree in criminology before you can join. We're one of the few groups recognized by police as not vigilantes." "So how old are you really?" "Twenty-six. Do you want to hear the story or not?" "Sorry. Continue." "I did a little snooping around, found out Clayton was in California. So I headed over there, but he was already gone. I've been chasing him since. When I caught up with him here, I found out he and his partner were posing as students here. I dyed my hair, got colored contacts, and came in myself." "Yeah, I can see why you'd need to hide your eyes." She nods. "I don't know anyone else who has this color. Anyway, I spent a lot of time hanging around Clayton's locker, trying to sneak a glance at his combination. He must have caught on to me, and was asking me out as a test. Like I was going to slip and tell him the truth." "About being a lesbian." I feel stupid now for asking her out myself. "Yeah. I'm not that dumb. If I told him I prefer women, that's enough of an excuse to pop me. Like my eyes, it's one of my distinguishing characteristics. I'm the only openly gay agent there. So I made up the story about having a boyfriend. Naturally, he didn't believe me, so I enlisted your services. When he saw me kiss you, it must have thrown him off the track. "Until I actually did find out his combo. This afternoon while you were at rehearsal, I cracked into his locker. Found the diamond in a hollow he'd cut into a calculus book stashed in the bottom of the locker. I grabbed it and hid it." She runs her fingers over the barely distinguishable lump in her shirt. "He must have come to check on it, saw it was gone, and knew it was me." "So he came after us, naturally." "Would you just sit there if your fortune had just been stolen?" We sit in silence for a moment. I look at her and can't help but grin. "I guess your answer to my last question before the guns is no." She grins too. "That's the short answer. I've grown to love you as a friend, even after only four days, but there's nothing there romantically." She looks at me. "I'm sorry. If I fooled the best actor in the school, I must have gotten everybody." "Yeah. It's okay." Another quiet minute. "Do you still need me? I mean, since you're exposed now." "No, not per se. But I'd like you to help me for one more day, if you wouldn't mind. I don't know if I can fight these guys alone, and I can't run for a whole day. Plus, they need to be caught." "I'd love to help you." "It involves guns. Guns involve death. Especially with these guys. They don't play around." I shrug. "If I'm gonna go down, it might as well be in a blaze of glory." I turn to her and take her hands. "Even after what you've told me, I still love you. I'd like to help." "You might change your mind." "No, I won't." She looks into my eyes. "That's the answer I wanted. Come on. We'll go to my apartment and talk plans." * * * "Mike?" Oh, no. I turn around to see Tracy standing in the doorway of the drama room. I'm the only one there. Rehearsal is over, and Heather and I are starting our plan. The last thing we need is for Tracy to get caught in the crossfire. "Hi. What's up?" She comes in, letting the door close behind her. "I've been watching you with Shannon. It's amazing how much you two mesh, even after only a week." She looks down. "When we were together..." "I know. That was my fault, not yours." "Then why didn't you...?" She trails off. A single tear rolls down her cheek. She's got it bad. I never realized how much this girl liked me, not even when I was dating her. And I devastated her by not paying attention to our relationship. I stand and raise her chin. Her clear blue eyes, full of tears, look up into mine. "Tracy, you're a wonderful girl. I'm the one that messed us up. I blew everything because I didn't pay attention to you." "You don't have that problem with Shannon," she chokes through her tears. "I've learned my lesson. I know what I was doing wrong. I had my priorities all messed up. I wish I'd known that while I was with you." "Really?" she whispers. I nod. We start to lean toward each other. A loud bang on the door destroys the moment. "That's them." I grab Tracy's hand and pull her to the stage door. "You have to get out of here. I can't explain now. Take this and go." I reach into my pocket and pull out the diamond. Her eyes bulge. "Oh, my God! Why?" "Just do it. Please." I close her hand around the stone and open the stage door. She pecks me on the cheek, then stuffs the diamond in her pocket and runs out the door. The main door slams open. I turn, ready to face my enemies. It's Lund. Dammit. These people have no sense. "This is it, freak," he growls. "You and me, right here, to the death." "Steve, I'm kinda in the middle of something...." He shoves me. "Shut up. You've been running long enough. It's time to meet your maker." "That comes later." "What?" "Look, Steve, I'm expecting company. Get out of here so you don't get hurt." "You're the one gonna be hurting, freak." He shoves me again. There's no other way. I pull Heather's pistol out of my waistband and point it at Lund. "I said get out of here. Or I'll have to hurt you myself." He backs off. "You wouldn't use that." I pull the hammer back. "Don't push your luck. Just go." He turns and tries to swagger out. It's more like a run. I lower the hammer and put the gun where it was, against my back. Hopefully, there'll be no more interruptions. There aren't. The door swings open, and Cesar -- Clayton -- and his friend come in. "Where's McGee?" "Who?" "Don't play dumb. She called us here to make a deal for the diamond." "Diamond?" "Yeah. Don't act like you don't know what we're talking about." "I don't." Clayton shakes his head. "Man, you're dumber than you look. Your girlfriend stole something very valuable from me. And we know you're working together, cause she's a dyke." "What?" I jump to my feet. "I just date Shannon. I don't really know anything about her past, but you don't have to call her names." "You gotta be kidding me," the other guy mutters. "Haven't you wondered why she don't kiss you?" Clayton asks. "We do kiss," I say defensively. "Yeah, but she ain't kissing you. You're kissing her." "Look, if you're trying to be a relationship counselor, thanks but no thanks. We're just fine. Now, please, I'm waiting for someone." "We're staying right here." The white guy pulls his gun. "And you're telling us what we wanna know." I let my jaw drop. "What the hell is that for? You guys are taking this stunt too far. I said I don't know anything about a diamond." "Oh, yeah?" Clayton reaches around my back and pulls the gun free. "Why you packing, then?" I sigh. Discovered. Way too early. Where the hell is Heather? He tosses the gun aside and frisks me. "He don't got it." "Neither did McGee," the other guy says. "And we checked her locker and her apartment." Clayton taps his lips. "Something ain't right. And this guy knows something. Let's get him out of here and ask some more questions." The stage door slams open. It's Heather. "Hey, guys. Looking for this?" She holds something shiny in her hand. She pockets it, grins, then runs off. "I'll get her. You take care of him." Clayton runs out the stage door. The other guy raises his gun. Before he can do anything with it, I kick him hard in the balls. The gun droops from his grip, and I kick him again before grabbing it out of his hand. He falls to the ground, coughing. I pull him up and hold the gun to his head. "Let's go." I direct him backstage and shove him into the wardrobe, locking him in. One down, one to go. I head back to the auditorium and step onto the stage. Bad move. Clayton's head pops up from the back row, along with his gun. I hit the stage as bullets tear the curtain above me. Heather sticks her head under the curtain. "What are you doing?" She grabs my arm and drags me under it. "Are you trying to get killed?" "Hey, I didn't know he was there. You were supposed to lead him around." "Change of plans." She peeks out. "There were still people walking around. I didn't think running with a gun was such a good idea." "I want that diamond, McGee!" Clayton's voice rings. "Well, you're not getting it!" she yells back. "If you were smart, you would have sold it already!" "Yeah, right! 'The Amazoness Diamond? How'd you get it?' Then I get to explain how I'm a theif and watch as I get arrested." "It's called a plane, Clayton!" "I couldn't get a passport! Now I got one, and I was on my way to India when you stole my diamond!" "It's not yours! I have fifty grand aimed at me for this thing!" No response. "So how'd you make him think you had it?" I ask. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a wadded-up ball of aluminum foil. "Amazing how this stuff sparkles in the right light." She drops it on the stage. I hear a door opening. One of the main auditorium doors. Oh, God, no. "What the hell's going on in here?" Karen's voice rings out. Apparently, she's found Clayton. I stick my head out as Clayton moves to grab Karen. Within a second, his arm is around her neck and his gun is pressed against her headd. "Gimme the diamond, McGee, or I'll kill her!" "The fuck you will," Karen retorts. She jams her elbow up into the pit of his stomach. As he staggers back to recover, she socks him in the face. The gun flies from his hand as he falls to the ground. Heather is down from the stage in an instant. "Don't move!" Clayton scrambles to his feet and runs out the auditorium door, grabbing his gun on the way. "You two stay here. I'll get him." Heather sprints for the door. Karen walks over to me. "Well, you told me it was all an act, but you didn't tell me this." "I didn't know myself until yesterday." I pull the gun from my belt. "I've gotta go help her." "Are you nuts? Did you see the size of his fucking gun? Besides, you've never fired one of those things." "No time like the present to learn." She looks at me. "Well, be careful." She hugs me, something she normally avoids like the plague. "Don't get killed." I run out the door and round the corner into the main hall. I'm greeted by a jab in my right side. I stumble, stunned, and fall to my knees. The gun falls from my hand. I touch my side and bring my hand away. It's covered in blood. I've been shot. Clayton stands up from behind the planter where he was hiding. "Man, you ain't with Wederhauser. You ain't even a PI. You're just a kid. A normal kid. Kinda hate to kill you." He walks up to me and raises the gun. For the first time, I get a good look at it. It's all gold, except the black handle. He pulls back the bolt and aims. "Sorry, kid." I close my eyes as I hear the gunshot. Then another. And another. And another. I open them when I realize I'm not dead. Clayton stands in front of me, the gun hanging from his hand. It drops to the ground, and he follows it. I see the bloody holes in his back, then look up at Heather holstering her gun. "Mike, I told you to stay there. What were you trying to do?" My vision starts blurring. "Help you," I whisper. She kneels and examines my wound. "Not fatal. I'll call the cops and have them send an ambulance." She smiles. I manage a feeble grin of my own before I pass out. * * * The curtain on my right slides back. I look away from the TV to see my family step through. They're followed by Karen, Heather, and to my surprise, Tracy. Janet immediately climbs up onto the hospital bed next to my feet. I've only been here overnight, and I slept through most of it. Supposedly, I'll be released today. "Hey, Mike, how ya doin'?" Dad asks. I nod. "Good. They said the bullet went clean through, didn't touch anything but the skin. I got lucky Clayton wasn't a better shot." "Usually he is," Heather says. I look at her and do a double take. Besides not having the brown contacts in, her hair is now black and straight, and she's wearing an ankle-length gray dress. "I take it you're back to your natural look," I say. "Oh, yeah." She smooths out the dress. "And it's good to be back. I was getting tired of Shannon's grubby wardrobe. And if a bouncy curl brushed the back of my neck one more time, I was gonna scream." I grin. "I know what you're saying. One night in costume is more than enough for me. So what happened after I went out?" "The principal came out. I had a hell of a time convincing her I was legal and you weren't dead. She was in hysterics, thinking I'd killed one of her students. Finally, the cops got there and helped me straighten everything out." "They put you and Clayton in the ambulance," Karen picks up. "Heather's telling them to stick around, because there's another guy, but we don't know where. Heather thinks maybe you killed him, but there's no blood in the drama room. Finally, we hear the pounding from the wardrobe, and open the door as he's trying to kick it down. He falls flat on his ass. The cops arrest him and take him off." "The police gave me this to give you." Mom reaches into her purse and pulls out a card. "They said they didn't have the actual medal with them, but if you take this to any station, they'll give you one." "A medal?" I take the card. "For extreme bravery in the face of danger." Dad puts a hand on Mom's shoulder. "Normally, only police get them, but there are a few exceptions, and you're one of them." "Even though this has been scary, coming at us all at once, we're proud of you." Mom smiles. "You're a hero at school, too," Tracy says. "Yeah, everyone's talking about it." Karen grins. "Except Steve Lund. He comes to school ready to tell how you pulled a gun on him, and gets hit with the gossip. He's going nuts." The curtain slides back again, and an orderly walks in. "Mike. How are you feeling?" "Great." "That's good to hear." He turns to my parents. "The doctors decided we can go ahead and release him, so all we need you to do is fill out a few forms, and your son is free to go." "Great!" Mom leans over and hugs me and Dad grabs my hand before they follow the orderly out. Janet gets in a hug of her own before hopping off the bed and following them. Claire hangs behind. She takes a few hesitant steps toward the bed, looking down. "Um ... I know I've been a jerk for a long time and you probably don't even want to talk to me. But what you did was really cool. You helped to catch two really bad guys. I guess I've been a jerk long enough. I'm sorry." Before I can even open my mouth, she continues. "And you don't have to accept it. I know for a long time, I treated you like an asshole, so if you do it back, I deserve it. I just wanted you to know I was sorry." "Claire, I forgive you." I smile. "I've been through the hate-your- family stage, remember? Besides, I make myself an easy target. It's not your fault. It happens to everybody." She smiles. "And don't worry," I joke. "I won't tell your friends you like your brother now." "Can I?" she asks. I nod. She hugs me ferociously before running after Mom and Dad. "That was bizarre." Karen takes the chair next to the bed. "I didn't think she'd ever come out of that." "Neither did I." I adjust the bed so I'm sitting up more. "I guess it just took the right kind of persuasion." "You can say that again. Happened to me, too. I've never done that before, probably never will again." She takes my hand. "But you're my best friend. When you were going after Clayton, I was worried I was going to lose my only confidant. Losing you would be worse than losing myself." "Wait a second. More honest sentiment?" I raise an eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" She chuckles. "Had that coming. But your almost dying helps me appreciate you more." She looks at her watch and stands. "I'm parked in a handicapped spot. I better go. See you at your house." She squeezes my hand before leaving. I glance at Heather. "You got the diamond back, right?" "Yeah. You didn't have it on you, and neither did Clayton, so I panicked at first. But Tracy caught me and passed it over." She takes it from her purse. "I thought I told you not to give it up." "Lucky I did. Just before you busted in, I was exposed. They were gonna take me somewhere and probably kill me." "And if they'd found it on you, I wouldn't have it, and you'd be just as dead." She glances at Tracy. "Good thing you had a trustworthy friend passing through." Tracy smiles. "So are you going to make my homecoming?" Heather glances at her watch. "Can't. Got an early flight back to Chicago. The reward's up to a hundred grand. I could probably retire on it. But I love what I do." She smiles and comes to my side. "Thanks again for all your help. If you hadn't gotten shot, Clayton would probably still be out there." She leans over and whispers in my ear. "Tracy's a great girl. If she wasn't so crazy about you, I'd be after her myself." She kisses me on the cheek. I chuckle. "Thanks for all your help, too." "What? What did I do?" I gesture at Tracy with my head, disguising it as a shrug. "Life lessons that will never be forgotten." Heather grins. "Good luck." She nods to Tracy, then leaves. I glance at Tracy. "Which brings us to you. What made you decide to come?" She looks down. "Well, when you gave me the diamond, I wasn't sure what to think. Then when everything came out...." She shrugs. "I felt like I sort of owed it to you." "Tracy, you don't owe me anything." "No, I do." She comes and sits in the chair. "I was totally mean to you, breaking it off. I thought you were ignoring me because you didn't care. But what you said to me when you gave me the diamond turned me around. You cared, but just couldn't show it." I think I know where she's going. "So what are you trying to say?" She looks into my eyes. "Well, now that everything's out in the open, I was kinda wondering if we could give ... you know, *us* another try." That's what I thought. But this time, I'm prepared. I lean over and press my lips to hers. For the first time in a week, I'm not acting. And it feels great. This is what love should be. When we separate, she's smiling. "I take that as a yes." * * * I click on the king of hearts and move it to an open space. I still play solitaire nights, even though I don't really need it anymore. Life's finally starting to work out for me. I came back to school to a hero's welcome. The principal had scheduled an assembly, where the police captain came down and replaced my card with the actual medal. Everyone's stopping me in the halls to congratulate me. I've probably signed every yearbook in the school. Except Lund's. Either he's jealous of my sudden popularity or still scared of my gun, because he's keeping his distance. Oh, well. At least he's not trying to kill me anymore. Can't win 'em all. I have won Tracy, though. In the week since Heather left, we're closer than I ever thought possible. I've shared things with her I haven't even told Karen. And I don't keep many secrets from Karen. I've fallen madly in love with Tracy. I never thought it would actually happen, but it has. Naturally, we worried about what would happen after graduation. But we talked it over, and she decided to go with me. We're not sure what we're going to do, but love conquers al. It'll work out. I flip over the second to last card. Five of spades. I slide it over to a red six and get the last card. The ace of diamonds. I've finally won the game. Grinning, I let it play itself out, then shut down the computer. it seems significant coming now, somehow. Matches my life. All the cards are falling in the right places. I turn off the desk lamp, climb into bed, and fall asleep.