Текст книги "Slow Twitch"

Автор книги: Лиз Реинхардт

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

“I’m totally over all that shit, Bren.” I felt pissed because, as usual, she had a good point I hadn’t thought of.

Whatever we were going to say next, it didn’t get said. Saxon came back to the truck, got in, and slammed the door hard enough that the whole frame shook.

“Let’s go.” He stuck his hands into his pockets, I assumed looking for his smokes. He must have forgotten them, though, because he stopped after a minute and slammed back in the seat.

I put the car in drive, but we hardly had any distance to go before we pulled up at the neat little row house our Great Aunt Helene lived in. As soon as we pulled up, I got déjà vu so strong it made my stomach flip. I had been here before. Definitely. When I was just tiny. I had this really strong sense of my mother, like I could remember holding her hand and walking up the steps slowly when I so small I still needed help.

I got this strong, vivid picture flashing in my mind of my mom’s long hair brushing over my head when she leaned down to help me, red high heels on the stone steps, her voice, doing that mom cooing thing moms’ voices do when they talk to their kids, the smell of cut grass and the sound of bicycle bells and kids yelling happy summertime yells. It all sucked and pressed around me for a crazy second, then snapped back off.

“Jake? Are you okay?” Brenna put a hand on my arm.

Her voice shook me out of my weird spell. “Yeah. I’m cool. I’m fine. I feel like I remember being here with my mom is all.” The memory had been so real, there was no way I could have imagined it. Could I?

She opened her mouth, but Saxon cut in, “Yeah, this is where your mom dumped you when she and my mom wanted to go get blitzed and whore it up. Mothers of the fucking decade, those two.” He got out of the truck and kicked the tire.

I was going to yell at him for talking shit about my mom and kicking my truck, but Bren had my hand and squeezed tight, grounding me.

“Don’t. It was a dick thing for him to say, but he’s in a shitty mood. You know your mom was a good person. Let it go, okay? We’ve had enough fist fights today.” She pressed her forehead to mine. “You good?”

I rolled my head back and forth against hers and let my rage go cold. “Now I am.” I kissed her hard. “Thank you, Cap’n.”

Her smile gave me the same heady rush that my little piece of maybe-memory had.

Saxon strode up to the house, and I expected him to be his usual dick-headed self, but he cut out his pouting and actually had a big smile on his face. Before the shock could totally settle in, I saw a really tiny old lady bursting out of the house.

“Come here, love!” She held her saggy, wide-open arms out. She didn’t come all the way down the steps, so when Saxon walked up to her and she put her arms around him, it kind of looked like a mom comforting her little boy.

Well, a normal mom and her little boy; the description would probably have meant nothing to Saxon.

Aunt Helene ran a gnarled hand over his hair and clucked nice things like, “That was a good thing, defending Cadence like that. You need to be more careful, love. Those Stanenbacks are giants! You’re lucky you’re so quick!”

Saxon walked up the steps and kissed her on the head and crushed her in another hug. “How do you know all this already? You’re the most connected woman in the world. Aunt Helene, stop worrying right now, okay? He was a pus…a wimp, and Jake had my back.”

“Jake!” Aunt Helene cried, her hand at her mouth. “Jake Kelly? Look at how handsome you are!” She caught sight of Brenna. “Hello, dear. Lovely girl.” She smiled. “Come in! You’re all too skinny! I made too much food! Come in and eat!”

We walked in, each of us grabbed and pinched and hugged by Aunt Helene as we filed through her foyer. I had been expecting a little bit of a dump, pretty much because of how the outside looked. Not that it was terrible; it was just a little run down. But this place was gorgeous. New mouldings, fresh paint, new furniture, shiny hardwood flooring. It looked great. And not very old lady-ish.

“Saxon,” Aunt Helene said, “Please make everyone comfortable. I’m almost done cooking.”

She bustled back in the kitchen, and Saxon looked at us and gave a hard laugh. “Hey, just because Aunt Helene is a saint doesn’t mean I’ve gotten any better. If you want something, go get it yourself. You guys are lucky Aunt Helene makes a fucking Thanksgiving dinner every night. Leftovers are unreal around here.”

“You do some work in here?” I looked around, still impressed with how awesome it was.

“Hell yeah.” He took his phone out. “After a few projects, I did some before pics, just so I could remember how much goddamn work I did.” He flipped his phone open, and Brenna and I leaned in.

“Wow.” Brenna glanced down at the little screen, then back up at the rooms. She wandered away after a few shots and checked the other rooms. “Saxon, you know how to lay tile?”

“No. Not officially. I almost cut my fucking finger off with the tile saw. I wasted half a box of expensive-ass tile, too.” He walked over the bathroom where she was standing and peeked over her shoulder.

She turned and they were fitted against each other, almost like they were two pieces that could click into one. I saw Brenna glance over her shoulder with panic, then squeeze tighter into the bathroom, putting a slice of space between them.

He put a hand on her waist, and she moved to one side, skittish like a wild animal with its scent up. He pointed at something and while she followed the line of his finger to look where he directed, I saw him smell her hair.

It was barely a thing; I probably wouldn’t have noticed except that I do it all the time because Brenna uses fantastic smelling shampoo. She turned smoothly out of his arms and started to ask about the brass switch plates in the hallway.

She didn’t seem to notice, but I sure as hell did. It was kind of intimate, and it irritated the hell out of me.

Suddenly, the idea of Saxon and Cadence becoming a couple was the best idea I’d ever heard. And it was about to become a project I was going to give my focused, urgent attention.

Before anything else happened to make me want to take a swing at Saxon, Aunt Helene bustled out of the kitchen to tell us the food was ready.

Brenna ran into the kitchen and away from Saxon and gathered the setting stuff, with Aunt Helene thanking her and pinching her sides lovingly. Saxon and I got the hot stuff on the table. We sat, Aunt Helene beaming.

“It’s so wonderful to have you all.” She had a strange accent, sort of Polish or Russian or something.

“It’s so nice of you to have us.” Brenna always knew how to talk easily with new people. “This food smells delicious.”

Aunt Helene dismissed Brenna’s comment with a wave and a happy look, we dished food out, and it was incredible. When I was with my step-dad all the time, we lived on pretty processed stuff; TV dinners, cold cuts, macaroni-and-cheese out of the box. At Mama D’s the food was high class, but the company was so fantastically shitty, I never really enjoyed it. But this was like the perfect meal.

Aunt Helene’s spread was the best I’d ever tasted.

It was a feast. Saxon looked happy. He laughed and was really attentive to Aunt Helene. It was a little weird seeing him like that. He was usually pretty disrespectful or really phony. But not now: now he seemed genuine and relaxed.

“Jake, I have such pictures to show you after dinner. And Brenna,” she said and brushed Brenna’s hair back with her hand as she leaned over to put more butter on the table, “you will like to see these! These two big, handsome boys were little tiny things once.”

“I’d love to see them,” Brenna breathed. Under the table, I squeezed her leg. “Did Jake and Saxon spend a lot of time here?”

“Oh, yes.” Aunt Helene scooped all three of us extra helpings without asking if we wanted any more, and we all dug in. “When their mothers went out dancing and having fun, they would drop the boys here with me. I loved watching them. Then Jake’s poor mama–” Aunt Helene stopped and pressed a hand up by her eyes.

My mother.

Aunt Helene was crying over my mother.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” She looked straight at me, wiping her cheeks off roughly with her gold-ringed fingers. “Your mother was so sweet. I miss her very much.”

And then I felt a little weirdly choked up. “Thanks,” I managed. Aunt Helene reached her little paw of a hand across the table and patted my hand.

“Poor baby.” She pressed her other hand hard against her mouth

She was referring to me.

Poor baby.

I didn’t know if anyone had ever said anything like that to me.

Once my mom died, life had been pretty adult. No more poor baby. It felt kind of good to be treated a little like a kid here.

We helped Aunt Helene clean up. Brenna put me in charge of drying and putting away, and Aunt Helene clucked that she could do it perfectly well, but we all just ganged up on her and made her go sit with the photo albums while we finished up in the kitchen.

Brenna’s laugh echoed off the shiny new tiles.

“What’s so funny, Blix?” Saxon called from behind the four feet of tinfoil he was using to cover one plate.

“It’s just funny to see you two in the kitchen, all domestic.” She scrubbed at a pot, the hot water from the sink turning her cheeks pink. “And your Aunt Helene is so adorable. You two are going to get giant heads if you hang out with her too long. It’s like she sees you both as adorable little angels and handsome strapping men all at the same time.”

Saxon shrugged. “She’s like a damn genius. She knows a good thing when she sees it, you know?”

Brenna snorted, and Saxon wound a dishrag up and whipped her with it. Brenna yelped and glared, backing up with her hands out in front of her. He stalked her, his smile ear to ear and badass hungry, his eyes locked on hers. His wrist snapped, and he landed another swipe on her ass. She laughed and darted away from him and behind me while I tried to finish putting the dishes away as best I could. I stopped for a second and gave her a quick smile, and could tell from her half-frown that she was uncomfortable, not sure if this was all fucking fun or if I was pissed.

It was his face that made me want to punch something, preferably him.

He looked…in love.

He looked at Bren like he wanted to get himself wrapped around her and never let go.

“We done?” My voice whipped out sharper than I meant it to.

I realized my tone was probably borderline murderous. The kitchen got quiet, Saxon stepped away from Bren, and she pressed closer to me.

“Done,” she said softly.

I put the dishtowel on the edge of the sink. “Cool,” I said. Though it was all about as far from cool as I could imagine.

We filed into the living room, and Aunt Helene patted the couch so we could come and sit. She opened a big photo album.

And then it felt like the whole room closed in and got really quiet.

I didn’t have many things from my childhood.

But here were tons of pictures.

Me, as a baby, wrinkled and pink like any baby. A younger Aunt Helene held me as proudly as if I were her own. Me and Saxon as fat little toddlers, playing with Matchboxes on the floor of Aunt Helene’s living room. There were pictures of me and Saxon splashing in a baby pool, taking a bath together, running around in the snow in too big boots, sitting under a little Christmas tree. The same déjà vu feeling that blanketed me before came back full force as she flipped the pages of the albums.

It was like someone was showing me evidence of a childhood I had no idea ever existed. I had no memories of this stuff, or if I did, they were dim and really far away.

And there was my mother. Pretty, with long brown hair and light eyes, lots of makeup and small, tight outfits. But really beautiful.

And the red high heels. The long hair draped partially over me. I traced a finger over the picture. I hadn’t imagined it. That was a real memory, a solid picture in my mind of the mother who loved me.

She was holding me in most of the pictures, and the look on her face was the same look I saw on Brenna’s when she looked at me.

It was love. She loved me.

Because I always wanted to know she had, but sometimes I doubted it, much as that hurt. I just didn’t get her for long enough to make memories that were undisputable. And growing up, Lylee was the closest mother figure I came in regular contact with, and she didn’t exactly help paint a mental picture of maternal goodness.

I was glad there was no reason to talk, because my throat felt tight, and I didn’t know what to say anyway. Aunt Helene watched me closely.

“I have so many.” She traced her fingers over the stiff, shiny pictures. “I’m going to make you an album. You would like that?”

I took out a stiff, brittle picture of my mother and held it in my big, clumsy hand, half afraid I’d break it somehow. “I would really like that.” My voice was embarrassingly croaky.

Brenna had my hand, and she squeezed it tight. I was surprised by how much it meant to me that there was actual evidence my mom loved me. It was important to me that she was around and loved me, even if she was a little wild and rowdy and made some really dumb mistakes. At least I knew where my wild came from.

Aunt Helene put the books away, and she and Brenna were chatting, and then they were wandering away to look at something, and it was just me and Saxon sitting in the room.

I felt a deep, cold well of hatred for him, and just as much hot, fierce love.

“What the fuck, man?” I said harshly.

“What are you talking about?” He narrowed his eyes at me.

“You feel pretty fucking free to talk shit about my mom, and you better cut it the fuck out. She made a lot of mistakes, but she’s my fucking mom. Talk about yours all you want. If you ever talk about mine again, I’ll knock the rest of your teeth out.” My fists were already balled up.

Saxon’s eyes went wide with surprise. He opened his mouth, and I half expected him to tell me that we could take it out back. Instead he said, “Fair enough.”

“And stay the hell away from Brenna,” I warned.

“I don’t want anything like that with Brenna.” Saxon held his hands up. “Look, I know we had a thing, but I told you, she’s always wanted you.”

“I see the way you are with her.” I dropped my voice when Brenna and Aunt Helene turned their heads toward us, always checking in. “Don’t feed me your bullshit. I know you care about her, and I don’t blame you. But she’s not your girlfriend. You can’t keep crossing the line with her.”

“Alright,” he said moodily. “Is that it? Can you get off my fucking back now?”

“I’m done.” I leaned back on the couch, suddenly so exhausted, I didn’t know if I could hold my eyes open much longer.

I could hear the happy sound of Brenna’s laugh, and it registered that that sound was one of the only happy things I heard on a regular basis. Saxon heard it, too, and I saw the look on his face. He was just as addicted to Brenna’s goodness as I was.

I felt bad for being hard on him; Brenna was an addiction that was impossible to kick.

  Chapter Ten

Brenna

“Did you girls get any sleep last night? ‘Cause you sound all kinds of loopy.” Jake’s smile practically glowed through the phone and made my ears warm.

Or maybe my ears were warm because of Evan’s very suggestive dance, cued by Jake’s specific ringtone on my phone.

Evan’s grandmother had stepped in when things between her parents got too awful. Gramma paid her school bills and for all her dance classes, then brought her to live in Savannah at her palacial house, at least until Evan’s parents could get back to normal.

Gramma also said Evan needed some “recovery time” after a summer spent witnessing her parents’ constant bickering and dealing with a very nasty public breakup when Rabin wound up at a party where some strippers were harassed. The strippers brought charges against the rich, entitled asshats who abused them, and Rabin was looking at time behind bars thanks to all the publicity the whole case got. To get her away from the reporters who were hounding her, Gramma flew Evan up for an entire week, and we’d been up all night talking after Thorsten brought her in from the airport the night before.

“We sleep like bosses. Most mortals need eight hours, but we can make magic four. And how is your bike coming, Jake the Speedy Snake?” I swatted Evan in the backside with a ruler when it looked like she might be bringing a lap-dance my way.

“Bren, I love you, but if you actually use any of your totally weird nicknames for me at the race, I’m going to pretend I don’t know who you are.”

“Okay, Jake the Jaguar Kelly. C’mon, that one has a certain ring to it, right?” I said as Evan flopped back and rolled on the bed, giggling with sleep-deprived giddiness.

“You’re killing me, woman. So, the bike is kind of sucking huge donkey balls. I’m covered in grease, I’ve been laying on the driveway messing with it all damn morning, and I don’t know if I got it all worked out. Couple more months, and I’ll have enough to get myself a shiny new bike and save myself the headaches.” The tired sound of his voice made me wish I could transfer all the hours of extra sleep I wound up wasting to him.

“Will you be okay for the race?” I picked up the clothes Evan had stripped off and left inside-out on my bedroom floor the night before and put them in the laundry. I straightened her bags and tried not to freak out over the fact that she was sitting in the middle of my unmade bed. It would be psycho rude to ask her to move just so I could make it.

“Yeah.” Jake was lying through his teeth. I could tell because he was totally confident when he explained. If he was really sure, he’d be more reserved. “This bike is gonna be fine, and it’s not a big deal anyway. This run is more so I don’t get rusty. I wound up missing a few big races while I was in New York, and if I want to get any contracts, I gotta be consistently in the top few every race.”

“If you need more time to work on it, you don’t have to come by later. We understand.” I looked over at Evan and she nodded emphatically, even though I knew she was totally curious to meet Jake.

“Are you kidding? Miss meeting the famous Evan Lennox? Not on your life. I might be a little later than I thought, but I’ll be by and we’ll go hang. Alright?” He quieted his voice, as if he sensed that Evan’s ears were pricked for any lovey-dovey talk. “I love you, Bren. I miss your face.”

I leaned over, pretending to swipe something from behind my desk. “Love you, and miss you so freaking much. Okay, go work on your bike. I need to see you!”

Evan cleared her throat and gave me a little half smile. “You don’t have to be all shy. I’m happy for y’all, and I actually like hearing all that gooey love stuff. It’s good to remind me about what I should be aiming for when I get over my dejected misery and consider dating again.” She screwed her eyes shut and gave her head a little shake, as if she could clear out all of her memories of Rabin.

“I’m so sorry he turned out to be such a huge asshole, hon.” I sat next to her and twisted her hair back behind her neck.

“I’m sorry for those poor girls they fucked with at the party. How disgusting. I always knew he was a piece of shit, but I didn’t realize he could crawl that low.” She dropped her eyes and twisted the hem of her shirt in her fingers. “You know, I watched this documentary once about this serial rapist guy. He was just this normal-seeming guy, had a wife, the whole nine yards, but here he is creeping into girls’ rooms and raping them. And when they caught him, the wife was all shocked. I remember thinking she must have been a total idiot, just the most oblivious dumbass in the world. I thought there was no way you could be with someone day in and day out and not know if they were a creepy fucking freak, right? Winds up I was just as big a moron.”

I squeezed her around the waist. “Don’t you dare beat yourself up. Just, next time, if I tell you a guy’s a huge, gaping dickhead sociopath, maybe you can listen to me? Because I love you, and it broke my heart to watch you waste your time with that filthy pig.” She nodded and laid her head on my shoulder. “Maybe those girls will get an awesome lawyer and take those assholes for all they’re worth.”

Evan’s smile was half sugar, half purely evil spice. “Granddaddy was pretty riled up when he heard Rabin was involved. He made a few calls and actually raised his voice. I swear, my granddaddy never, ever raises his voice, and people still always jump and listen to every damn thing he says. I’m pretty sure those poor girls will have the best freaking lawyers money can buy, compliments of a whole lotta lace and textiles and Granddaddy’s taste for vengeance.”

“Your life is like a Southern gothic novel,” I breathed, imagining Evan’s grandfather as a portly but commanding man with a cigar and a hat who made everyone cower under his iron will.

“You did a unit on Faulkner last year, didn’t you?” When I gave a sheepish nod, she laughed her lips stretched so wide, I could have counted every perfect tooth. “Forget my damn melodrama for a minute. Where are we going tonight?”

“Well. Tony’s.” I twisted my hands together and crossed the room, grabbed a t-shirt, and handed it to Evan. “I guess business was bad, so Tony asked if anyone know any bands, and you know how I do some t-shirt stuff for this band Folly?” Evan nodded and opened the shirt. It was a photoshopped design that I was particularly proud of. The band members all hung out of Jake’s truck, waving and laughing like lunatics and Cadence was next to them, in her skates, serving them food and drinks off a little tray. “Tony got Folly to do a show, and I worked up this special t-shirt, so I’m going to drop one off for him to see.”

Evan hopped off of my bed and pulled the shirt over her head, turning from side to side to admire her reflection in my full-length mirror. “Please tell me you’ll get one for me?”

“Definitely.” I thought about the last time Jake, Saxon, and I had been together at Aunt Helene’s.

“Mmm. I don’t need to use my amazing psychic powers to know that you completely worried about this little trip.” She tapped a finger on her chin. “And I’m gonna guess it has everything to do with Saxon?”

“No!” I said too quickly, folding the t-shirt Evan handed back to me with neat pleats. “I mean, it was just weird last time we were all together, and I think he and Jake kind of had words. He was also sort of touchy with me.” My stomach churned.

“Touchy?” Evan flipped through my iPod. “Touchy like he wanted to touch your booty?” She put my favorite mix on and danced over to me, eyes narrowed. “Touchy like he wanted your body?”

“Not exactly. First he was touchy, I think, because he wanted Cadence to get wildly jealous. Then he was touchy because…well, because he was happy. I think.” I took a deep breath and shrugged.

“That doesn’t sound so crazy, actually.” She leaned on my desk. “But I’m guessing Jake wasn’t all about it?”

“Exactly. I get it. I do. We’ve been through a ton together, and he’s got to be weirded out. I was weirded out, you know? I’m not totally sure I can trust Saxon. And I thought…I have no clue. Honestly, I thought Saxon and I could find this friend-zone place, but it’s way trickier than I thought it would be, so I don’t know if it’s even possible.

I yanked my closet door open and made a quick grab for the first shirt on top of the pile of clean clothes Mom had put in my room the day before. I started to hang them up in a color-coordinated pattern, light to dark and, within the colors, short-sleeved to long. It tripped my sprinting heart down to a jog.

“Brenna, do you have a touch of OCD?” Evan gazed over my shoulder, her eyes perfect circles.

“I just like my things neat, I swear. Look, I can hang this orange tank top right in the middle of the blue shirts! Right by this three-quarter shirt. That’s crazy, right?” We both looked at the tangerine tank top with gorgeous flower embellishments gliding along the bottom, and I finally flipped it to its rightful spot. Evan chuckled. “Shut up. I could have left it there, but it makes no sense!”

The Saxon issue remained completely unresolved. We lazed around and talked about a thousand other things, then had lunch with Mom, who found Evan adorable and hilarious in small doses. When we heard the crunch of Jake’s tires on the gravel, it was about two hours earlier than we expected him. Evan grabbed my hand and squealed.

“I feel kinda like I’m about to meet a celebrity.” She whispered for dramatic effect.

“You have no idea how much that would make Jake crack up.” I poked my head into the living room. “Mom! Jake is a little early.”

“Okay, sweetie. You guys drive safely and keep your cell on.” She got up and kissed me and waved to Evan.

Jake got out of the truck and Evan watched him walk over with a look of pure giddiness on her face. She squeezed my arm tight. “No wonder you’re all gaga. It’s like watching the Marlboro man in real life, but younger and hotter.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “He definitely makes me feel all like swooning.”

I felt a strange prick of pride, and realized now what people meant when they talked about arm-candy. Jake was, of course, so much more than good-looking…but he was so good-looking.

When he got close, he took his ballcap off his head! Like he was meeting the Queen of England. He stuck his hand out and Evan gave him her fingertips.

“You must be Evan Lennox? Brenna’s been chewing my ear off about you since Dublin. Nice to meet you.” He flashed her that smile, all roguish charm and humble adorableness, and Evan tilted her head back and laughed.

“Can I see your cap?” she asked.

Jake gave me a look, but I had no clue. Evan turned his hat inside out and pursed her lips. “Funny. I seriously thought there’d be a little golden halo stuck in here. Are you for real, boy?”

He blushed right to the tips of his ears. “I’m no angel. And that’s a hell of a cheesy pickup line, if that’s how you’ve been using it.”

Evan bounced up and down in her Greek sandals. “I knewI was going to love him. Ooh, I gotta grab my purse. I’ll be right back and then we can get outta here!”

Jake pulled me in and kissed me hard. “She’s like a ball of fire,” he said when we pulled back.

“I know,” I sighed. “I’m kinda in love.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Well, you can’t take her in a fair fight. If you think Pink is badass, you have no clue. But I think you’re safe enough.” I ran my hands up and down his arms, and his smile faded and was replaced with a worried tick. “What’s up?”

“Just, uh, my bike…” He shrugged his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck.

“That bad? I’ve got some money put away. I’d be happy to lend it to you–”

“Are you insane?” Jake broke in. “I’m not borrowing money off of you. Definitely not for a damn bike. Jesus, Bren. That’s your money for…I don’t know, important stuff you need. It’s actually kind of the opposite problem for me right now.”

“What’s that?” I tugged at his hand.

“A brand new bike got delivered this morning. I signed for it…honestly, I ordered a new handlebar set, and I just assumed that was it, but it was, like, the most expensive, amazing bike you could imagine. I guess I should have told them to take it back, but it was like my brain went dead when I saw it.”

“Are you insane?” I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “How is this a problem? Your bike is all messed up, you can’t get it working, you have a big race coming, then a new bike lands in your lap. Am I missing the problem?”

“Brenna.” Jake’s voice sounded disappointed. “Where the hell do you think the bike came from?”

Duh.

I knew exactly where it came from.

“So, is it like a peace-offering?” I asked carefully.

“I have no idea. I really don’t. But there’s no way in hell I’m taking it.” His gray eyes went fierce and serious.

I opened my mouth to argue when Evan flew over, purse in hand. “I’m starved, y’all. I can’t wait to see this place. I’ve never been to a place where they skate like that. At our Sonic, they just walk the burgers out...” She looked back and forth between us. “Are y’all okay?”

“Yeah.” Jake’s smile was polite and distracted. He walked over to the passenger side and opened our door. Evan flitted a kiss on his cheek.

“You are a true gentleman.”

Evan climbed in, then realized she was in the middle, and climbed back over me, so I could sit close to Jake. Jake started the engine and we were off. I wanted to talk more about the gift from the Macleans, but I had no idea if Jake wanted Evan knowing. Since we were both too distracted to make reasonable polite conversation, we sunk into dead silence.

For most people, the dead silence would have just been something to put up with. But Evan was on a one-week timeframe, and she wasn’t about to have even one second of the fun ruined without at least investigating why. “Y’all, what’s going on?”

Jake put his hands at two and ten on the steering wheel and looked forward with studious concentration, like he was a professional driver running a swerving course along perilous sea cliffs. I nudged his knee with mine, and he flicked his eyes over. I nudged again and he sighed with irritation.

“It’s sort of embarrassing. I have this big motocross race coming up, and my bike is shot. I’ve been doing the repairs myself, but I don’t know if it’s gonna hold up for the race.” He truncated the entire story right there in its tracks, and Evan wrinkled her forehead.

“That sucks. I’m really sorry. I got my private dance lessons pulled two months before auditions for a state ballet I probably could have danced in because my daddy used all our money laying bets at the track. It wound up being just enough time to throw me off the mark. It was between me and one other girl for understudy to one of the principles, and I lost out.” She twirled a piece of glossy hair around her finger and watched it unravel.

Jake glanced her way with a look of startled empathy. “My dad’s family sent me a brand new bike today.”

It was obvious from his tone that this was a problem, but he didn’t give a single detail.

“I understand.” Evan slid a tight smile in his direction.