Suicide Kings

Evangeline carried herself in a way that reminded Serena of someone. She sat on the curb in front of the gas station, drinking a can of Dr. Pepper. Serena was watching Evangeline collect the trash in the car from their last couple of meals and throw it away (one of many “shotgun duties” as Serena called them). There was a perspiring can of Coca-Cola sitting next to her for when Evangeline was done.

The posture and grace was uncanny, Serena thought, but she couldn’t put the face on the body that she remembered it from. The movement was one of the differences Serena marked between them. Serena thought herself graceful too, but she was slinky and loose. Evangeline’s movements were more tight and precise, as if she disciplined herself to move that way. It was certainly something, to make cleaning the car out look like a dance, Serena mused. It was something Serena did not think she would ever be capable of, not that she aspired to or anything. Evangeline could have her innate choreography.

The difference did remind her of a nerdy boy that Serena was friendly with. He had been telling her about his latest crush. The girl was a foreign exchange student from some European country. Jokingly, she had asked what happened to the crush he’d had on her. He had no such thing, at least as far as she was aware, but he had told her she was attractive on a few occasions.

“There’s a difference between beauty and sex appeal,” he had said flatly.

At the time, the comment had made her feel cheap and whorish. She knew he didn’t mean it to be demeaning, so she didn’t let on that she was hurt. “I’d fuck you, but not ask you to be my girlfriend,” was what she got from it, though. It was the difference between going to the cabaret or the ballet.

Now that she was older, she was thinking in more practical terms. Especially now that they were running out of money.

When they started out, they’d had the money Serena had saved in her few years of retail jobs and the cash Evangeline had managed to hoard. Serena’s savings hadn’t been much, only a couple thousand. Evangeline’s was even less. They both had money waiting for them, but Evangeline’s was specifically contracted for college and so inaccessible. Serena’s “trust fund” was more unconventional, given the nature of her father’s employment, and so could not be had until he got out of prison. They still had about $500 left, but that would go fast with how much gas cost.

So that left them to itemizing their talents and trying to figure out which ones would be most profitable. In such a case, sex appeal would be of more use than beauty. Truthfully, Serena thought most of her traits where more useful than Evangeline’s. Applying them was a whole other matter.

Evangeline’s morality was a particular hindrance. The fact that most of Serena’s plans would result in being bitched at for stealing, whoring, or whatever else the man in the sky says is bad made solutions to their problems less forthcoming. That Evangeline wouldn’t help do these things either put most of the work on Serena’s shoulders. If only Evangeline would learn to pickpocket. Then they could simply clean out a bar or something, Serena distracting a mark by playing the potential one-night-stand while Evangeline pulled the wallets. Hell, if she could just teach Evangeline how to play interested so she could pick pockets… No one was looking for a steady girlfriend at the bar, but it couldn’t hurt to try to sell the beauty, right?

Why couldn’t she have picked a rival who was willing to play just as dirty as she was?

Serena sighed.

“What?” Evangeline asked, looking over the hood of the car from where she was now checking the air pressure in the tires.

“We need more money,” Serena said, swirling her half-empty soda can around and scowling at it.

“We still have a lot,” Evangeline said.

“Gas is too expensive and my car practically eats the shit,” Serena argued. “Not to mention food and hotel rooms. That five hundred will be gone quick enough.”

Evangeline smirked as she moved to the back tire. “You should’ve got a more cost-effective car. A Honda or something.”

“That car was plenty cost-effective, seeing as how it didn’t cost me anything to get it in my name.”

“Except huge gas prices and insurance rates.”

Serena glowered. “Yeah, well, dicks to you and your gas prices and insurance rates. We still need money, Princess Fuel Efficiency.”

“Ha ha,” Evangeline said, walking over. Serena handed her the can of Coca-Cola she had sitting next to her. “We could rob a bank,” Evangeline jokingly suggested as she popped the tab on the can.

Serena straightened up and looked pensive. Now there was an idea. Not actually robbing a bank, but it brought to mind someone who could wrangle them some quick cash.

“Serena, I was joking.”

“Too late now!” Serena said mischievously. She hopped up, dug around in her pocket for a quarter, and walked to the car. She opened the driver’s side door, unzipped her purse, and picked her black address book out. On her way to the pay phone by the door to the gas station, she thumbed through the S’s.

Cradling the receiver with her shoulder, she held the address book open with one hand and inserted the quarter into the slot, then dialed with the other. It rang once, twice, and then a woman answered.

“Who is this?” her voice asked suspiciously.

“It’s Serena, Artie. I’m calling from a pay phone.”

“Oh,” Artie said, sounding relieved. “Sorry. I get paranoid when the numbers aren’t registered on this phone. It’s supposed to be a private number, you understand.”

“Yeah, I can dig it,” Serena said, smiling.

“What can I do for you?” Artie asked.

“We’re running out of money and want to pull a heist. Figured I’d ask your professional opinion. What do you think we should hit?”

Artie sighed. “Honestly. If you needed money, you should’ve just asked.”

“I was only joking, Artie,” Serena said. “I was hoping you might be able to hook us up. We’ll pay you back, but I can’t say when that’ll be.”

“I understand. Where are you going to be tomorrow?”

“We’ll be in… uh…” Serena put her hand over the receiver, “Angie, where are we headed?”

“Clio. And don’t call me that,” Evangeline replied.

Serena smirked and turned back to the phone. “We’ll be in Clio.”

“Which hotel?”

“A Motel 6, probably.”

“You’re that low, huh?”

“Eh,” Serena said, “Motel 6′s aren’t that bad.”

“Well, all right, then. Make reservations, ask for the address, and call me back with it. I’ll send you a bank card next day delivery.”

“You’re the best, Artie!”

“I’m well aware.”

“Talk to you in a few.”

“Right.”

Serena hung up, put in another quarter, then called information. After getting connected to the Motel 6 in Clio and making the reservations, she called Artie back and gave her the address. Artie told her a Wells Fargo bank card in Serena’s name would be delivered to the hotel the following day. Serena thanked her, hung up, and told Evangeline of the situation.

“How is she going to get a bank card in your name?” she asked, incredulous.

“Uh, did you forget who you’re dealing with here?” Serena scoffed. “They teach you that kinda shit in Crime 1.”

“Hmm,” Evangeline replied. She clearly did not approve.

“Hey, at least I’m not forcing you to actually act on your suggestion, so suck it up,” Serena said. She walked towards the car and got in.

Evangeline rolled her eyes and followed.

As she waited for Evangeline to get in, Serena considered that pulling a heist would’ve been great fun. Artie always looked so pleased with herself when she came back from one. When she was a kid, Serena could (with a lot of prodding) get Artie to reenact it for her. She always looked so practiced and completely aware of her own aesthetics.

Serena rolled her eyes at herself. It seemed obvious now, but she never would’ve thought to compare Evangeline with Artie.

“Hey, Angie?” she asked.

“Evangeline scowled. “What?”

“You ever take ballet class?”

“Yeah. Why?”