Of course I was totally freaking out. I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes. Bette almost kissed Helena. And Helena ran off! Fuck! What a night this was turning into!

When Bette got back to the table, where Shane and I were waiting, she looked like she was in shock, or some kind of libidinous stupor.

“What in the holy fucking shit just happened, Bette?” I asked.

“Are you okay?” Shane pressed.

Ignoring our inquiries, Bette sat down in the chair next to me, almost collapsing. In an attempt to steady her and show her my support, I took her hand. She eyed me, and then Shane, and then me again, scrutinizing our faces, as if searching for an explanation of what had just happened to her and Helena on the dance floor.

“Where’s Helena, Alice? Where did she go?” Bette finally demanded.

“Jesus, Bette, I don’t know. She came off the floor, definitely more than a little upset, and said, ‘I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll call you,’ and practically flew out the door. What the hell is going on?” I pled.

Bette looked down, pulled her hand away from mine, and propped her forehead against her fingers. She was deeply and anxiously in thought.

“Bette?” I asked softly and with concern. “Are you going to answer me?”

With her shoulders bent over the table, arms folded and resting in front of her, Shane also quietly awaited Bette’s account of what had just occurred. Finally, Bette looked up and into my eyes.

“God, I don’t know what happened,” Bette lamented. “What started out as an innocent practical joke, to teach you a lesson, Alice,” she punctuated my name, “somehow spiraled out of control.”

“Me? What did I have to do with any of this?” I exclaimed, totally puzzled.

“Alice, Helena and I know you were in Kit’s bathroom listening to our conversation,” she answered.

I hung my head and shook it with embarrassment.

Mistaking the shaking of my head as a refusal of guilt, Bette said, “Alice, you were caught. Kit saw you running away down the hall.”

“I’m not denying it, Bette,” I replied calmly. “But what’s that got to do with you and Helena in a rapidly escalating stage of foreplay on the dance floor just now? And her running out? And you becoming completely unglued.”

“What it’s ‘got to do’ with it is, you’re always sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Alice,” she answered quickly and angrily. “You seem to be on a never ending quest for new sources of gossip. So I thought I’d help you out. I was just trying to have some fun and give you a show, something to get a reaction out of you.”

“Well, it certainly looks like you were having some fun alright. So I guess you were successful on all counts.”

Bette’s brown eyes shot me indignant daggers. “Damn it, Alice!”

I disregarded her reproof, thinking it best to get on with trying to make some sense of the situation.

“So let me see if I’ve got this straight,” I began, thoughtfully wording my understanding of the circumstances before us, “This was all your idea? What Shane and I just observed, out there on the dance floor, between you and Helena, was supposed to be a charade, a plot to get back at me? To teach me a lesson?”

“Yes,” Bette answered as she slumped against the back of her chair and closed her eyes in an effort to regroup.

I deliberated before continuing. “Well, then, I’m afraid you set yourself up for a major backfire,” I said cautiously. Nervous as hell, I glanced over at Shane for support, before blabbing, “Bette, Helena’s carrying around a major, longstanding infatuation with you. She’s crazy about you.”

“What?” she exclaimed incredulously, her body shooting forward in the chair, her eyes wide open and her mouth agape.

She stared at me and then at Shane. I nodded, and Shane spoke her agreement. “I think Alice is right, Bette.”

“And how do you know? What makes you say this?” Bette asked, desperate for elucidation.

How I’d come to my surprising discovery wasn‘t easily explained. And Bette wanted an answer fast. Her eyes were boring holes in me.

“It’s a long story, Bette.”

“Well, figure out a way to shorten it,” she barked.

“Okay. Don’t get excited,” I shot back, trying to think of something quickly.

“Alice! Now!” Bette cried impatiently.

To avoid angering her further, I just blurted out the first thing that popped into my head, “Because…because she pulled your frickin’ pigtail, damnit!”

Bette unconsciously reached behind her head and grabbed her braid. “What the hell are you talking about, Alice?”

Shane came to my rescue.

“Bette, I hate to say it, but from what Alice has been able to tell me, I think she’s right on target. If that ‘dance’ a few minutes ago was supposed to be an act, then Helena’s definitely in the right business, making movies. Only she’s on the wrong side of the camera,” Shane said.

Bette hid her face behind the palms of both hands and shook her head. When she revealed herself again, she murmured, “How could I have let this happen?”

“How could you have known how she feels, Bette? It’s been a huge secret. I just figured it out myself tonight,” I said.

“Well, what am I going to do now? The joke’s definitely on me, not you,” Bette replied.

“So I take it part of the problem is that you were turned on out there?” I asked sheepishly.

Without answering the question, Bette scowled at me. “I’ve got to talk to Helena, Alice.”

As fate would have it, my cell phone suddenly rang.

Looking at the caller ID, I announced, “Well, it looks like this is your lucky day.” I flipped the phone open with one hand, stuck a finger from the other hand in my ear, and watched turbulence wash over Bette’s face. “Hello?