by Marie Landry
“It’s okay, Ezra,” I sighed. “Honestly. Go.”
He nodded slowly. He gave my hand another squeeze before releasing it and getting to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Maybe we could go to Angelo’s and grab a slice of pizza for lunch.”
“Sure,” I said, forcing a smile. “See you tomorrow.”
He headed off across the sand, and as I watched him go, something in me shifted. I was tired of whatever secret he was keeping. I was tired of spending the entire night wondering where Ezra went and what he did. If he was into something bad, I needed to know sooner than later.
Plus I couldn’t stand the idea of another night by the bonfire with strangers, then going back to my room and sitting there for hours with no company other than a book and the moon. Not after exposing such a raw wound to him. “Ezra,” I called, jumping to my feet. When he looked over his shoulder, I blurted, “Take me with you.”
He stood frozen for a few seconds, then took a step back toward me. “Charlotte…” He stared at me for a long moment, his expression conflicted. Finally he let out a long sigh. “I don’t know if it’s something I want you to be around.”
My stomach dropped. He really was a drug dealer. Before cell phones had become so popular that almost everyone had one, my dad used to joke that they were only for doctors and drug dealers. Ezra never bothered with his phone during the day, but the minute it went off at night, he jumped up and took off.
“Take me with you,” I repeated. I glanced up at my window, imagining myself sitting there for the next few hours, unable to sleep, my mind racing.
He followed my gaze and sighed again as if reading my thoughts. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
CHAPTER TEN
Ezra pivoted and started to walk away again. I rushed after him, trailing behind him all the way to the car, where I climbed into the passenger seat without a word.
Ezra revved the engine and pulled out of his driveway. We headed down our street and turned left onto Carrington, taking the same route Dad and I had taken the week before when we went for our drive.
After several seemingly endless moments of silence, I opened my mouth to ask where we were going, but the words wouldn’t form. My stomach tensed with nerves as questions flitted through my mind. I kept throwing glances Ezra’s way, now too afraid to speak in case he changed his mind and took me back home.
The streets were completely dark, lit only by the headlights of Ezra’s car and the faint glow of the waning moon. I was about to lose it and break my silence when we turned, and the mansions I’d seen last week came into view. The street wasn’t any brighter here, but lights blazed inside the houses, and lanterns shone at the foot of most driveways.
Ezra sighed heavily and glanced at me quickly before returning his gaze to the road. “I just hope this doesn’t change your opinion of me,” he said.
That leaden feeling returned to my stomach. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe I didn’t want to know Ezra’s secret after all. But it was too late now; we were turning into one of the long driveways.
Loud music pumped from the house and through the open windows of the car. The houses were spaced just far enough apart that I imagined the noise didn’t disturb the neighbours too much. Groups of teens and college-aged kids milled around on the porch and spilled out onto the lawn. I could just make out dark shadows at the back of the house near the water, and people were silhouetted through the big bay window at the front.
Ezra parked the car and cut the engine. We sat for what felt like an eternity, neither of us moving or speaking, just staring up at the house. Finally, Ezra unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door. “I don’t imagine I could convince you to wait in the car?”
I shook my head quickly, still too nervous to speak.
His expression resigned, he said, “All right, come on then. Stick close to me, I don’t want to lose you in the crowd.”
Heart pounding, I scrambled from the passenger side. When we met at the front of the car, Ezra surprised me by taking my hand. He didn’t look at me as we walked around to the back of the house, passing kids who called out acknowledgements or waved to Ezra.
When we reached the back door he walked right in, holding it open for me to follow. We stepped into a massive kitchen that was about the size of my living room and dining room combined back home. I was sure I was gawking as I took in the top-of-the-line appliances, marble countertops, and frosted glass cupboards. About a dozen people stood around, leaning against counters holding red plastic cups in their hands.
A raven-haired girl that reminded me of Ella approached us and laid a possessive hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “Hey there, handsome,” she said, her voice low and sultry. She was way too young to sound like that. Did girls practice these things? Like, stand in front of the mirror, make pouty faces, and train their voices to sound sexy?
I was pleased to see it didn’t seem to have any effect on Ezra. “Hey, Darla,” he said, his tone bordering on boredom. “Have you seen Adam?”
Darla, whose hand was still on Ezra’s shoulder despite the fact Ezra’s hand was still firmly holding mine, pouted. “You mean, you’re not here to see me?”
I rolled my eyes. Ezra’s hand tightened around mine, but I wasn’t sure if it was an involuntary action.
“’Fraid not.” Ezra gave her a tight smile. “Adam. Have you seen him?”
Darla’s gaze slid to me for the first time. She appraised me with cold grey eyes, and my skin prickled under her scrutiny. Girls like her had never intimidated me before, but then again I was no longer the confident girl I used to be. Next to her in her short black dress, expensive-looking silver jewelry, four-inch high heels, and professional-looking makeup, I felt like a slob in my shorts, tank top, and flip flops, with my face completely makeup free and my hair twisted into a braid.
“Who’s your friend?” she asked with a brittle smile.
“This is Charlotte,” Ezra told her wearily. “She and her family are staying on the island this summer. Now…Adam? Have you seen him or not?”
Darla’s gaze slid down to our joined hands, and her eyes narrowed. “In the living room somewhere,” she said with a dismissive wave. She leaned into him, her hand massaging his shoulder, and her cleavage almost spilling over her low-cut dress. “Call me sometime, yeah? I’m sure you still have my number.” She slid me a catty look as she released Ezra’s shoulder and sauntered away.
Ezra let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “Come on,” he said without looking at me. He tugged my hand and we wound through the crowd toward the living room.
“Old girlfriend?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer, but I had to ask anyway.
Ezra scoffed. “Please.”
I guessed that was a no? “She’s pretty,” I commented. I’d always hated when girls said stuff like that to guys; they were either fishing for compliments or hoping to start a fight if he agreed. I wasn’t doing either; I just wanted to know if Darla was his type, because if she was, I clearly wasn’t.
“I guess,” Ezra said absently, scanning the room. “If you like that fake, overly made-up look.” He finally looked at me, and his expression was so serious my heart stopped. “Which I don’t. Girls like her are jealous of girls like you because you’re actually beautiful, not fake beautiful.”
I swallowed hard. He thought I was beautiful? Ezra thought I was beautiful. The thought made me slightly giddy until Ezra pulled me across the room and I suddenly remembered why we were here.
Adam, the guy we’d seen the day Ezra and I shared lunch behind the diner, was sprawled in the centre of a large leather couch with a girl on either side of him and an arm around each of their shoulders. His brown eyes were even more heavy-lidded than the first time we met, and he had a bottle of beer propped between his legs.
“Ezra!” he called happily. “Ladies, this is my buddy Ezra. He’s come to return me to the dungeon known as my parents’ basement.”
The girls let out cries o
f protest and moved closer to Adam, which I wouldn’t have thought was possible without them ending up in his lap.
“I know, I know.” Adam was clearly enjoying himself. “But I’ll be back tomorrow, and we can pick up where we left off.”
He disentangled himself and got to his feet, swaying slightly. “Ezra, my man,” he slurred, clapping Ezra on the shoulder. “My main man. What would I do without you?”
Adam slumped a bit, and Ezra supported some of his weight with his shoulder. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He motioned for me to follow, and I trailed along in their wake.
When we got out to the car, Ezra helped Adam into the backseat and ordered him to buckle up. Without a word to me, he opened my door and waited for me to get in before closing it and going around to the driver’s side.
I watched Ezra’s face as he started the car and pulled onto the road. It seemed like he was purposely trying not to look at me. I angled so I could see Adam in the backseat; his eyes were closed, and I thought he must have drifted to sleep, but he called out, “Hey man, turn the radio on. You know I like my tunes.”
Ezra finally glanced at me, shooting me an apologetic half-smile. He flipped the radio on and turned the volume up. The sounds of Coldplay’s ‘Paradise’ filled the car.
“Ah man, this is, like, my favourite song!” Adam shouted, leaning forward and gripping the headrests. “Para-para-paradise! Such a great song.” He leaned back in his seat and continued to sing along, his voice loud and off-key.
My lips started twitching. I couldn’t help it. This was quite possibly the most bizarre situation I’d ever been in.
“Don’t you dare start laughing,” Ezra told me quietly.
I peeked at him from under my lashes; he was staring straight ahead at the road, but his lips were twitching too.
“I’m not sure I can help it,” I answered, my voice shaking slightly with suppressed laughter.
The song changed and ‘Mysterious Ways’ by U2 came on.
“No, this is my favourite song,” Adam said. He leaned forward again and suddenly his head was right between mine and Ezra’s.
I was so startled, a laugh burst from my mouth. Adam started to laugh along with me, and his cluelessness made me laugh harder.
“What’s so funny, man?” he asked after a minute. “Oops, sorry, lady,” he amended, smiling drunkenly.
I shook my head. “I really don’t know.”
“Put your seatbelt on, Adam,” Ezra said.
Adam slid back and I heard his seatbelt click into place. He continued singing, giving it everything he had, waving his arms around and rocking to the music. I soon discovered that every song was Adam’s favourite, and each time he said it I had to bite back another laugh.
Ezra didn’t speak, but we kept exchanging glances every time Adam hit a particularly sour note. He would cringe and look apologetic, as if it were his fault his friend was butchering song after song. I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t really care.
We seemed to drive the entire length of the island before we pulled into the driveway of a small two-story house. The porch light was on, but the inside of the house was dark.
“I’d invite you and your lady friend in, man, but…you know how it goes,” Adam said, struggling with his seatbelt. He finally got it undone and he reached up to hand something to Ezra. He opened the door and stumbled out, and a second later he was leaning in my open window. With his face so close to mine, his beer breath made my eyes water.
“It was great seeing you again,” he told me, a goofy smile plastered on his face. He pointed at Ezra and thumped his chest right over his heart. “This guy…Ezra’s the best. He’s my guardian angel, you know? You two treat each other right, you hear?” He screwed up his face and blinked his eyes rapidly, and after a second I realized he was trying to wink, but he was too drunk to figure it out.
Suppressing yet another laugh, I winked back at him. “Good night, Adam.”
He waved and staggered off toward his house. He stumbled on the front steps, and called out something that sounded like, “I’m good!” When he had the door open, he waved again, then disappeared inside.
Without a word, Ezra put the car in drive and pulled back onto the road.
“Well…” I ventured. “That was interesting.”
A ghost of a smile touched Ezra’s lips, but he simply shook his head.
“So…”
“So…this is what I do.” Ezra looked at me quickly before returning his gaze to the road. He sighed heavily and shifted in his seat, resting his left elbow on the open window frame. “Okay…Adam’s always been a bit of a partier. His parents don’t love it, but they’ve tried everything short of locking him in the house. Finally they just accepted it was going to happen whether they liked it or not, so now they don’t care if he drinks, as long as he doesn’t drive, and as long as he’s home by midnight and doesn’t wake them up when he comes in.”
He looked at me again and I nodded for him to go on.
“Theirs is one of the few houses on the island that has an alarm system. It’s not so much because they worry about break-ins—it’s to make sure Adam gets home on time. They go to bed early, set the alarm, and if he’s not home by twelve to reset it, it goes off.”
“Clever.” My parents should have had something like that for Ella this past year.
He murmured his agreement. “So, Adam goes out to parties, gets as drunk as possible as quickly as possible since he has a curfew, then someone calls me to pick him up and get him home on time. We used to be good friends in high school. I was the designated driver when we went out, but then when I stopped going out, he kept calling me to give him a ride home. It progressed from there. It’s not every night, but it’s most nights in the summer. Word got out, and people started calling me for rides when they’d had too much to drink. I pick them up, no questions asked, take them where they need to go, and they give me gas money. Usually tip me, too. The drunker they are, the better they tip.”
He shrugged. “It’s an extra source of income, and I figure I’m helping to keep the island free from drunk drivers. I’ve never needed much sleep, so as long as I get a few hours each night, I’m good to go.”
My eyes grew wider and wider as he spoke. I let it all sink in, then asked, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
It was still dark in the car, but I could have sworn his cheeks flushed. “I didn’t want you to think less of me,” he said quietly. “I don’t necessarily condone underage drinking, but it happens, and I’d rather drive kids home than have them drive themselves and get someone killed.”
“I can understand that. In fact, I admire it,” I told him, and he looked at me with arched brows. “You have an entrepreneurial spirit.” I grinned, and his tense shoulders relaxed a bit. “I still wish you’d told me sooner, though. I thought…”
“What did you think?” His tone was a mixture of relief and amusement now, and he took his eyes from the road to look at me a little longer than before.
“I’m not sure I should tell you.” My cheeks were growing hot, and I was wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.
“Well now you have to tell me.” He poked me in the side when I remained silent. “Come on, what did you think? Wait, I know. After the look on your face when you saw Lilah and me, I bet you thought I was some sort of gigolo or something.”
“No, nothing like that.” I took a deep breath and muttered under my breath.
“What now? Come again, I didn’t quite catch that.” He poked me again, and kept poking me until I caved.
“I thought you were a drug dealer,” I blurted.
His reaction wasn’t what I’d expected. He started to laugh. He laughed so hard he hunched over the steering wheel and I thought he was going to have to pull over onto the shoulder. “You thought I was a drug dealer?” he asked between laughs, his tone incredulous.
“Well, think about it,” I reasoned. “Almost every night you get a mysterious call or text and take off. Someo
ne told me you don’t really talk to people, so I didn’t figure you were taking off to hang out with friends. And even if you were, that’s not a big secret, so you probably would have told me. And you seemed kind of guilty about leaving me, so…”
“I guess I can see how you might come to that conclusion,” he admitted. “But seriously, Charlotte, a dealer?”
“Don’t be mad. I didn’t want to believe it, it’s just—”
“I’m not mad,” he said quickly. “I actually think it’s kinda funny. And I can’t blame you for thinking the worst. I guess it must have seemed strange now that I think about it.” He ran a hand through his hair and squinted into the darkness before turning onto a different street. I was completely lost, but he seemed to know his way around perfectly, even in this all-consuming darkness. “Whoever told you I don’t talk to many people was right. I don’t. My life has been…crazy, I guess, the last couple of years. I haven’t had time for friends. I work a lot and I keep odd hours, which most people just don’t understand.”
“I do.”
“You do,” he agreed with a small smile. “You’re different. I’m not exactly the easiest person to get to know, but you don’t push, and I appreciate that.”
Pleased by his comment, a warm sensation washed over me. It was the same feeling I got whenever I was content. I’d almost forgotten what it felt like. “I won’t lie, there have been times when I’ve wanted to bombard you with questions, but I’ve held my tongue.”
Ezra chuckled. “Well at least now you know one of my secrets.”
“There are more?”
His expression turned serious. “Everyone has secrets, Charlotte,” he pointed out quietly.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As we approached the turn-off for our street, he slowed and glanced over at me. “I’m probably not done for the night. Fridays are pretty busy. I usually hang out at the diner and wait for a call, so…do you want me to take you home?”
“The diner’s open this late at night?”