The Last Chance Texaco

by Brent Hartinger

  Could? I thought to myself. Did that mean he hadn't made up his mind? Or that he had made up his mind and that he wasn't going to send me away?

  "Please," I whispered, eyes on the ground again. "I want to stay. I promise I won't screw up again." In my experience, therapists could never get enough of seeing you humiliate yourself.

  Emil fiddled with his pen, not nervously, but casually, like he was talking about the weather or the plot of some television show.

  "You belong at Rabbit Island," he said at last, just as casually.

  So that was that, I thought to myself. He'd made his decision. It wasn't the end of the world. I'd adapted to other places. I'd adapt to Rabbit Island too--eventually. Besides, I'd still have my stupid little Heidi mountain cabin, at least in my mind.

  "But," Emil went on, "it seems that there aren't any beds available there until next week."

  What was this? I thought.

  "And," he said, "it seems that the counselors here think you deserve one more chance."

  Leon! Somehow he'd managed to talk Emil out of sending me away! I told myself not to feel so happy--that what Emil was giving me he could later take away, and that it would hurt even more then if I let myself feel happy now. But I couldn't help it. I was just so goddamn relieved.

  "Don't think you won't be punished," Emil said. "Because of those pills in your room, you have forty points."

  Forty points, I thought. It was a steep punishment. It meant no television, no dessert, no parks or movies on the weekends, and plenty of extra chores. Still, given the alternative, forty points was the same as being lashed with a feather!

  "But Lucy," he said in a low voice that reminded me of Darth Vader. "That's two strikes. Three strikes, you're out."

  I nodded as earnestly as I knew how. "I know! I won't screw up again. I promise."

  "And there's still one more thing," he said.

  "Yeah?"

  He watched me a second, like he was enjoying the sight of me nervous again. Then he reached down into his briefcase and lifted up a small, clear plastic cup with a lid. It was a urine cup for drug testing. You were supposed to fill it with pee, and they could do tests on it that told them if you'd been taking drugs.

  "There'll be random urine tests," he said. "Starting today. And if we find that you're taking

  Oxies or any other drug, you'll be out of this house within twenty-four hours, even if I have to bring a bed over to Rabbit Island myself.

  • • •

  That afternoon, during detention, I walked into the school courtyard and found Garbage Nirvana. Someone had knocked over a garbage can, and the wind had blown trash everywhere. But Nate had found it first and was already busy picking it up.

  He hadn't seen me yet, so I walked closer. "Hey," I said. It was the first time I'd spoken to him since that day in the hallway with his friends. But I'd been meaning to talk to him all week.

  He looked over at me, but didn't say a word. Then he turned away and started picking up trash again.

  "Mind if I share?" I said. I knew he knew I meant the garbage. There was plenty for both of us.

  "Yeah," he said. "I mind." He kept working, and I noticed he made a point of facing away from me.

  "Can I talk to you a second?"

  He ignored me, reaching down for a Doritos bag and some wadded notebook papers. He left the scattered french fries for the birds.

  "Are you listening to me?" I said.

  "No," he said, which was obviously kind of a lie.

  I came around to face him. He was still crouching. "Come on," I said. "Please?"

  He stood up suddenly. "What is your deal anyway?" The black ice was back in his eyes.

  "Huh?" I said, taken a little aback.

  "I thought we were cool!"

  "We are," I said. "We are cool."

  "So why'd you dog me?"

  "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you in front of your friends." I didn't mean for this to sound snotty, but I guess it did.

  "I don't give a damn about my friends! I'm just confused! I thought it was so cool you gave me that Happy Meal box, even after all the things I said to you. That took guts. Hell, so did hitting me in class. And then we talked, and I saw you were smart and funny and easy to talk to. And when we saw that crow die, you looked so sad. It made you seem different from the other idiots at this school--different from the other groupies too. I even thought I kind of liked you! I thought you liked me too."

  He kind of liked me? Did that mean what I thought it did? But what I said was, "What? I was going to be your walk on the wild side?"

  Nate sighed. "Forget it. I was wrong, okay? Boy, was I wrong! You're not who I thought you were." He stared at me a second longer, then shook his head. "I'm not even sure there's anybody home at all." He turned and started walking away. I guess he didn't care about the garbage anymore.

  I watched him go. This hadn't turned out like I'd wanted at all. I'd wanted to apologize to him, but everything had come out bad. That's when I remembered what Leon had said about me trying to push people away. And that's when I realized he was right. Nate wasn't Ice. I was. Even now, I was doing my very best to freeze Nate out, just like I froze everyone out. I'd probably only made friends with Yolanda because she reminded me of my sister.

  "Wait!" I said to Nate.

  He stopped, but didn't turn.

  "There is someone home!" I said. "And I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything!"

  Nate turned to look at me. His face had softened at last. His voice did too. "Lucy, what's going on?"

  "I got scared," I said.

  "Of what?"

  I walked closer, until I was right in front of him again. "Everything! You and me. Alicia."

  "What about her?" Nate asked.

  "She's your girlfriend!"

  "No, she isn't. She hasn't been that for a long time."

  "What?"

  "She's a bitch, okay? I've always known that. But every time I try to break up with her, she threatens to do something crazy. But I don't care anymore. So I broke up with her for good."

  "When?" I said.

  "Five days ago. I told her the same thing again about twenty minutes ago."

  "Then--"

  He let his garbage bag fall to the ground and took a step toward me. Now we were really close--closer than two people who were just friends would ever be. "What?" he whispered. I could smell his aftershave again, stronger than ever. It smelled like lilacs in bloom, fresh ink on clean paper, and the inside of a new car--the best smells in the world all rolled into one.

  "But you're rich," I whispered. "And I'm from a group home."

  "So?" he said.

  "That doesn't matter to you?"

  Rather than answer with words, he leaned forward and kissed me. His lips were firm but gentle, and cool from the outdoor air. We may have been surrounded by garbage--and I was still holding a bag of garbage--but it was the most romantic moment of my entire life.

  "Nate, listen--" A third voice broke into our kiss.

  Alicia.

  We both turned to look at her. There was a lit bidi in Alicia's hand, but the real smolder was in her eyes. If she'd looked angry before, when she'd caught us talking by the tennis courts, that was nothing compared to what she looked like now.

  Chapter Ten

  Nate Brandon had kissed me. And Alicia had seen us together and stormed away, but he hadn't gone running after her. He'd stayed with me, and we'd spent the next thirty minutes telling each other how we liked each other, how we wanted to be together. We'd also had to keep picking up garbage, but hey, you can't have everything.

  I had a strict four o'clock check-in time, so I had to leave right at the end of detention. When I explained this to Nate, he seemed to understand.

  All the way home on the bus, I kept thinking about what had happened. I'd never had a real boyfriend before. I wasn't sure I'd ever felt giddy before either. If I had, it wasn't for a very long time.

  Back at home, I ran into Joy in the hallway outside Yolan
da's and my bedroom.

  "I like your sweatshirt," she said, oh so calmly.

  "Yeah?" I said, distracted. "So?"

  "So give it here."

  "What?" I was sure I hadn't heard her correctly.

  "I said, I want your sweatshirt. Give it here."

  Finally, I clued in. She did want my sweatshirt, but it wasn't really about the sweatshirt. If I'd been holding an ice cream bar, she would have wanted that. This was about Joy wanting to show me who was boss.

  "Look!" I said. "I know you planted those pills in my room!"

  "What pills?" Joy said, in a tone that told me she knew exactly what pills. Part of me wanted to punch her, but the thing with Nate had put me in too good a mood. Instead, I reached out to push her aside, just like I'd done to Eddy a couple of days before.

  She grabbed my wrist. "I don't think you understand!" she said. "Give me your sweatshirt or you're gone!" She was squeezing so tightly that it hurt.

  Only now did I finally really understand her. Emil had said I had two strikes. One more strike and I got sent to Rabbit Island. By now, Joy had to know this too. And she was telling me here and now that if I didn't give her my sweatshirt--if I didn't do absolutely everything she wanted!--she'd make sure I got that one more strike. She'd already proved she could do it.

  I was furious. I tried to snatch back my hand, but I couldn't get free. Her grip was like a pair of handcuffs. My hand throbbed.

  She had me, and not just by the wrist. She'd wanted to be the group home's top hen, or the alpha she-wolf, or whatever you call it. And now she was.

  I relaxed, and she released my hand at last. I was tempted to slug her even now. But I didn't. It wasn't worth it.

  I slipped off my sweatshirt and handed it to her.

  "That's a good girl," Joy said, like I was a child or a dog. Then, before I could move an inch, she said, "You can leave now."

  Nate Brandon had kissed me--our very first lass. But it might very well have also been our last. Because whether or not I got to stay at Kindle Home--whether or not I got sent to Rabbit Island instead--was out of my hands. It was now entirely up to Joy.

  • • •

  That Sunday night, I woke up again to the sound of screaming.

  Not screams, I realized as I lay there in bed. Sirens.

  Sirens? Yeah, they were sirens--lots of them. It sounded like they were coming from right in front of the house. Problem was, Yolanda's and my window looked out over the backyard, so I couldn't see for sure.

  I looked over at Yolanda's bed. Even in the moonlight, I could tell it was empty.

  I climbed out of bed and hurried to the door. I started to turn the knob when I felt it turning in my hand.

  It was Yolanda, on her way back into our room.

  "What is it?" I said. "What's going on?"

  "There's a car on fire!" she said.

  "What? Where?"

  "Out on the street! Come on!"

  There was a window above the landing, and that's where Yolanda led me. Juan was already there, his face up against the glass.

  "There's a car on fire!" he said to us. So I'd heard.

  I stepped up next to him and immediately spotted the fire trucks. Two were parked about half a block down the street, and another was just arriving. There was lots of movement and shouting all around them. Neighbors had gathered too, gaping and gawking, close but not too close to the center of it all. And rising from the middle of all the commotion, there was an eerie orange glow. The car itself was mostly blocked by the fire trucks, but you could see part of its front end, with tongues of fire licking up from under the hood.

  "It's gonna blow!" Juan said excitedly.

  "No," I said. "That hardly ever happens in real life."

  "I can't see good!" he said. "Let's open the window!" But as he searched for the latch, I saw it had been soldered shut.

  "I'm going to go find out what happened," Ben said, startling me. I hadn't even noticed him and Gina joining us at the window.

  "Can I go?" Juan said.

  "No!" Gina said. "Everyone stays inside."

  Suddenly, Joy was at the window too. "Move it," she said to me. Unlike Ben, she hadn't surprised me. I'd expected her to show up eventually.

  And I did move it. There wasn't anything else I could do. Joy squeezed in to take my place. I knew I wouldn't see anything from the windows on the first floor, so I accepted the fact that I wouldn't see anything more. But I stayed anyway, listening to the shouts of the firemen and the murmur of the neighbors.

  A few minutes later, Ben returned. "It was parked," he told us all, as well as Damon and Eddy and Melanie, who had joined us from their bedrooms. "No one was inside it, so no one was hurt."

  I'd never heard of a parked car catching on fire. For a parked car to catch on fire, someone had to set it on fire. But I didn't say that to Ben. If anybody else was thinking that, they didn't say it either.

  "Can we go see?" Eddy said, and almost everyone else joined him with pleading cries.

  "No," Ben said firmly. "It's all put out now anyway. The excitement's over, so everyone back to bed."

  But I had a feeling the excitement wasn't over. On the contrary, I had a feeling it was just beginning.

  • • •

  Sure enough, when I got home from school a little before four o'clock the next day, I immediately felt that little tingle of electricity in the air again.

  Eddy was passing through the front hall on his way to the television room.

  "God?" I asked him, and he nodded. Megan, the program supervisor, was back again.

  I looked over at the office door, which was closed. I heard the soft rumble of voices from inside, but as

  usual, I couldn't make them out.

  I looked up at the stairs. Damon was standing two-thirds up, his head cocked as if listening.

  I walked up to him.

  "So," I said, "you know about the Magic Step."

  "Of course," he said. "Now be quiet. I'm trying to hear."

  I listened too.

  "That's easy for you to say!" Megan was saying. "You don't have twenty angry neighbors screaming at you over the phone!"

  "So everyone thinks it was one of our kids," Gina said.

  "Of course they do!" Megan said. "Don't tell me you're surprised!"

  "Of course I'm not surprised," Gina said. "But it's not fair. Who's to say it wasn't a fraternity prank?"

  "Maybe it was," Megan said. "But that car was four houses down from here, and this is no fraternity."

  "These aren't the only teenagers on this street," Ben said. "It could've been one of them. How come the police aren't interviewing them?"

  "Because the other teenagers on this street don't all have juvenile records," Emil said, sounding

  cranky. So he was at this meeting too. That wasn't good.

  "How do you know?" Leon said.

  "How do I know what?" Emil said.

  "How do you know the other teenagers on this street don't have police records? Because they all have parents? Because they live in nice houses? That doesn't mean none of them have juvenile records, believe me."

  "I'm not having this argument again," Emil said. "The fact is, these kids are natural suspects. I told the police as much this morning."

  "What?" Megan and Gina spoke at exactly the same time.

  "What?" Emil said innocently, like he really didn't know why they were making a hiss.

  "Emil, you know damn well what'll happen if the legislature gets their hands on those comments!" Megan said. "Are you trying to get this place shut down?"

  "I was thinking of the safety of this neighborhood," Emil said, and Leon made a quiet "Humph" sound. "Which is what all of you should be thinking about too!" I couldn't see Emil's face, but I could tell he'd directed that last part at Leon.

  "It wasn't one of these kids," Ben said. "I'm absolutely positive. Gina and I did spot checks all night long. And even if one of them did get up between the checks, there's still the burglar alarm. None of the k
ids can open any of the doors or windows in the house at night without setting off the alarm."

  "And you're sure it was set?" Megan asked.

  "Yes, I'm sure! And none of the kids know the code."