by Anne Key
“Actually, yeah.” Eli’s shoulders squared up proudly. “I did the art myself.”
“Seriously?”
Mari clucked her tongue and waved the boys aside. “Back up, guys. You’re all in Sammy’s face.”
Erik looked a little apologetic, but not much. “You ride?”
“Nope. Y’all are the first kids I knew that did. I’d like to learn.” Maybe in the garage with the door shut so no one saw her face-plant ten billion times.
Erik nodded. Seemed like he liked that idea. “Cool.”
“I’ll teach you,” Eli offered. “She’s in crazy-good shape, you guys, and has really good balance. She’s a cheerleader.”
“Was. Back home.”
“Oh, man. You can totally do better than that.” Mari rolled her eyes like thrown dice, and Sammy went with the smile. When you didn’t know what else to do, smile and stay still, right? Someone would throw a hint or a hand.
“Careful, Mari. Cheerleaders know football players.” Eli winked at Sammy and poked her in the ribs. “They’re big.”
“I only just know y’all, remember?”
“Y’all.” Mari chuckled. “That is the cutest thing.”
“Hey.” This girl walked up, hair pulled back, makeup done up perfect. “You’re new.”
“I am.” She offered a smile, but that was it. Lacey always said Sammy could smell a bitch from a mile away, but maybe….
“Hey, Brittany,” Mari said, but it was more snarl than greeting.
Ah. So, Sammy. You have a choice to make. Right here and now. Pick your side. Do you want to be popular? Do you want to be in the in crowd? Because this is where you do it. Right here, right now.
“Whatever. So, you are…?
“Sammy. Sammy Moore.”
“And you’re from?”
“Texas. Right outside of Austin.” So, she wasn’t some backwater hick. She was hip. Back off.
“That’s cool. Why’d you move here?” Brittany had lipstick on one of her teeth, just the slightest smudge, and Sammy let that make her feel braver. Less like a noob.
Eli went to answer, and Brittany looked him up and down, wrinkling her nose. “No one asked you. God, I hate that. So?”
“My daddy made me come up.”
“Oh, custody issues. I hear that. My father lives in Seattle, and I have to go every summer.” She rolled her eyes. “So, there’s a spot over here with us. Come sit, cowgirl.”
Was this where she was supposed to go ‘yeehaw’?
“That’s okay. I’m cool. Thanks, though.”
“That’s right, Brit!” Mari was damn near vibrating, she was so pissed. Who knew why? Why did Deidre Martinez hate her back home? Someone pissed in somebody’s Cheerios ten years ago, and now everybody was butthurt. The thing was, she was going to have to decide whether she was with Mari and Erik or Brittany. Eli had been… decided for, she guessed. Whatever. He had to decide that on his own. “She’s not going to get cooties.”
“Lice maybe. Seriously, did you do your hair like that on purpose to keep everyone far enough away that you don’t infect them?” Brittany tossed her hair and Mari’s face went bright red.
So, lice. Christ, that was Amy Dean in her class. Everyone remembered how her momma freaked.
God, Momma. It’s sorta cool not having anyone know me. It’s sorta okay.
“You don’t have to sit with the loser skater bois, you know.”
“Huh?” Shit, she’d missed something.
“Are you deaf? I said you don’t have to sit with these assholes.”
How very Chanel Oberlin of her.
“I said I was cool.”
Brittany turned around, hands flying. “Do you believe this? Stupid bitch is hanging with Mari the Louse and the Flyboys.”
So, decision made. “Oh, jeez Louise, seriously? What? You watched the first Harry Potter movie too much? Back off, Draco. I don’t need this shit from you. I’ll sit where I damn well want.”
Suddenly, she noticed they were all staring at her. All of them, up to and including Eli.
Then Mari squealed. “You are my freaking hero, Sammy.”
See Momma? Sometimes it’s okay to hold your ground, right? Sometimes.
The teacher walked in exactly then, this huge round Santa Claus of a man with suspenders, a white curly beard, and a coffee cup that said, “Don’t Make Me Get My Flying Monkeys.” He looked the class over, grinned, and said, “Whose stupid idea was it to make us all be functional first thing in the morning?”
Oh, she was going to like this guy. She could tell.
Chapter 7
“DADDY, I’M going out.” Sammy didn’t know where she was going, but she needed out of the house, that was for sure. She knew where the coffee shop was. They had Wi-Fi, caffeine, sugar, all the important things.
And if Eli and Mari and Erik had said maybe they were all going to get coffee and hang out and then go somewhere else, well, cool.
And if she missed them, well, then who knew what could happen? Maybe something wonderful. She could totally get into something wonderful.
Daddy had his hands full of tools or house-fixing stuff or whatever all of that was. “Yeah? Where are you headed?”
“Just out. You know. Do you know how to use all of that?”
Daddy laughed loud. “Mostly. Be careful, text me if you settle someplace and… be good.” He grinned at her. “How was that?”
“Exceptional. Good parenting. A-plus.” She went to him, kissed his cheek. “Love you. I’ll be home for supper.”
“And a movie. Your turn to pick! Love you, sweetheart.” He didn’t hang around, which was probably good because it looked like he was fixin’ to drop everything.
She headed out, grabbing a PBR hoodie she’d gotten from this guy at the fair. It was too big and cozy and mostly black, except for the bull breathing smoke on the back.
Elm Street was busy on Saturdays, tons of cars going by, bikes and runners on the sidewalks. Nobody paid her any mind as they went by; they all had someplace to go, something to do. Plans. Sammy kind of missed plans; she sure wouldn’t be caught without them on a Saturday back home.
Even Lacey was too busy to talk today.
She sighed and told herself that was okay. She had a hoodie on; it was September. How cool was that?
She chuckled softly. Cool. That was funny.
“Sparkles!” The voice was followed by the now-familiar sound of wheels rolling over the joints in the concrete sidewalk. “Wait up!”
She looked over her shoulder, knowing Eli would catch up quickly. He flipped the end of his skateboard up and skidded to a stop right behind her. “Good timing.” Eli was a little breathless and pink in the cheeks; he must have been out riding for a while. He had on a gray-and-black sweater that said “Fall Out Boy” in big red letters and the cuffs of his black jeans sat on the rims of big white high-tops.
His bangs fell in his eyes, and he tossed his head to clear them, giving Sammy the quickest little flash of blue. It only kind of worked; those bangs were always in his eyes.
“Going for coffee?”
“Yeppers. You too?” She had just done her eyes, because without mascara she looked squinty. “I’m not sparkling today.”
“Your butt is.”
“Shut up.” Her not-blingy pair of jeans was in the washer.
“What? It’s true! And your hair looks nice like that. Oh—Mari and Erik are riding at the skate park. They’ll be over in a bit. They’ve got some sweet tricks and stuff. Way better than I am. What’s PBR?”
“Bull riding. Like the big leagues, not baby rodeos.” She’d been to events in Dallas and Oklahoma City, even one in San Antonio. “It’s pretty cool. My Aunt Franny, she took me.”
She needed to text Franny, say she missed her, something. Franny hadn’t said a word when she left, but Sammy got texts every day.
Eli rolled along slowly next to her while they were talking. “I bet it’s awesome. Real cowboys and everything? Don’t people die riding
bulls and stuff? Do they actually have clowns?”
“Little rodeos still have barrelmen. Big ones have bullfighters and entertainers. And Lane Frost died. They made a movie about him.” Tuff Hedeman had a crushed face too. She’d seen him announcing at an event. It was like looking at an alien or something. “The best part is the autographs. That’s cool.”
“Cowboys always look so big and mean on TV. They actually do autographs?” Eli scooped up his board outside Java Jam and pulled open the door. “Coffee time!”
“The bull riders are tiny like birds. OMG. That smell is the best!”
“What, horse poop? Blech.” Eli pulled a face.
“The coffee, dorkfish!” She started giggling, tickled as all get-out.
“Oh.” Eli snickered. “Right. What are you having?”
“Salted caramel mocha.” There was a big old picture of the mocha up on the wall, and she was almost drooling, which okay, gross.
“Oh, that sounds good.” Eli tucked his board under one arm and stuck his hands in his pockets. “So, Sammy….” he kind of trailed off, which was weird, and she looked at him.
“That’s me!”
“Yeah.” Eli reached up and scratched at his forehead. “Listen, I’ve been meaning to—”
“There he is!” Mari came rushing through the doors. “Dude. You totally missed it. Erik did this crazy rail slide, right? But then he lost his balance coming off and bailed. He landed on his ass, and the board—”
“Hit me in the friggin’ face.” Erik sounded congested, and he was talking through a green bandana he was holding up to his nose.
“Oh man. Let me see?” Eli moved the bandana to one side. “Oh, ow. That sucks, dude.”
“Are you bleeding? Do you need cold paper towels?” God knew she’d face-planted during pyramid lifts. Scary.
“Maybe? Would that help?”
“He’s totally got a bloody nose.” Mari nodded.
“It’s pretty gross. Should we ask? Or maybe….” Eli started looking around.
“Hold up.” She bounced up to the counter. “Pardon me? Can y’all give me some paper towels ran under the cold tap? We got someone with a hurt nose.”
A girl with a nose ring and a big tattoo of some kind of bird on her shoulder looked at Sammy and made a face. “Gross. He okay? Hang on.” She stepped away and came back with the towels and also a cup of ice.
“Thank you, ma’am, I appreciate it.” She wrapped a little bit of the ice in one of the towels, saving some back for cleaning up. “Here you go.”
Erik took it and swapped it out for his bandana. “Thanks.”
“Dude, go sit down, I’ll get your espresso.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Mari.”
“Seriously, he was looking so sweet on that rail, I don’t know what happened. All of a sudden, it was like, boom!”
Eli shook his head. “Some of those obstacles are huge. I’m chicken. You guys have got balls.” He glanced at Sammy. “Sorry.”
“For having balls? It’s my turn to treat you, Eli, I think.”
“Probably for the bad language. Around a girl. Apparently, I don’t count,” Mari joked.
Eli started to say something, but Mari winked and stuck her tongue out at him. What was up with him today? Now he was all pink in the cheeks. “I… oh. Well, I can get it, Sammy. I mean, if you want.”
“It’s my turn. You can get the next one, right?” God, he was so sweet.
“Sure, okay. I’ll have the same as you.”
Erik poked Eli in the shoulder. “Yo, what are you having?”
“Salted caramel mocha.”
“Shit, Eli, that’s a frilly girly coffee,” Mari teased, laughing.
“It’s not,” Eli protested. “I just like it.”
“You just like it because your girl here likes it.”
Eli gave Mari a punch in the arm. “Shut up, Mari.”
Still, he didn’t say no, did he? No, ma’am. “Y’all be good now.”
Mari gave Eli a wink and then stepped ahead of them both to order Erik’s espresso and a black coffee for herself. Yuck. Eli hung back with Sammy. “What do you think makes it frilly? The salt or the mocha?” he joked in Sammy’s ear.
Man, that was tingly. “Totally the mocha. Chocolate is just for girls, right?”
She rolled her eyes, then winked at him so he knew she was playing.
“Ohhh. They forgot to tell me that when I… um, in boy school.”
“Do they make you go to boy school up here in Yankeeland? Back home y’all just get a gun and a football helmet and are expected to figure it out.” This was fun. The first real fun she’d had in eons.
Eli laughed. “Nah. It’s about the same up here, only instead of a gun you get a book of fart jokes.”
“Ew.” She started laughing—and not because she had to or was supposed to, but because Eli was funny.
“Are you guys going to order, or what?” The kid behind the counter eyed them and popped his gum.
“Oh, sorry.” Eli giggled as he ordered. Didn’t seem like he was trying very hard to stop. “Two salted caramel mochas, and she’s paying since they’re frilly.” He took a couple of steps back from the counter, still laughing. “Oh, man.”
“Boys.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed her little wallet out of her purse. She loved it, because it had a pink glittery cat on it and she could find it in her purse by touch. “What do I owe you?”
“Ten eighty-nine.”
“Hey, what do girls get?” Eli was still giggling. “If boys get guns and footballs?”
“Chocolate, mascara, and glitter, obvi.”
“Obvi.” Eli grabbed their coffees and headed for the table Erik and Mari saved for them. “Come on, Sparkles.”
Sparkles. Christ. She had to smile, though, because it felt good, friendly and all.
“Sparkles?” Mari asked, and Sammy rolled her eyes, shook her head, and plopped down at the table.
“Don’t you start, now.”
Eli set their coffees down. “How’s the nose?”
“Feels better. I think the ice and towels and stuff helped. Thanks, Sammy.” Erik was dabbing at his face with one of the towels.
“I think it’s done bleeding.” Mari was helping him clean up.
“So, I think I might pass precalc, this year,” Erik said, picking up his espresso.
“Shut. Up.” Mari poked Erik. “Of course you’re going to pass. You’re like a serious math nerd.”
Eli nodded. “Grissom is awesome.”
“He’s something else. I like him.” It was Miss Peters she didn’t like, and Peters didn’t like her, either. She kept her head down, but she knew.
“Not you too,” Mari groaned. “Another math nerd.”
She shrugged, unsure what to say because she liked math, but who knew if these guys would tease.
“Well, this study group is gonna rock. I’m hanging out with geniuses.” Eli sipped his coffee. “So, what do you guys know about this ‘food truck festival’ thing next weekend? My dad says they’re going to have live music and stuff and close the whole of Main Street.”
“It’s rad. And last year they had a Ferris wheel and a car show.”
“The bands are random, but some of them are good.”
“And the food trucks are awesome.”
“Falafel, fried dough, pizza, tacos, there was this one that did omelets in a burrito-wrap thing.” It was adorable the way Erik and Mari were talking over each other.
“And sloppy joes.”
“And ice cream.”
“Whoa.” Eli looked at Sammy. “I guess it’s fun?”
“They had one in Austin. It was cool. We had deep-fried Twinkies.” Although, God, she had to work out for hours to make up for those calories.
“Oh my God. That sounds good.” Erik looked like maybe he’d drool. “Why didn’t you stay in Austin? It’s supposed to be such a cool town.”
Okay, so Mari obviously hadn’t told Erik yet. Yay. It would have been easier if she h
ad.
“My mom died. My dad lives here, and I’m not old enough to be emancipated or anything, so I’m up here with y’all.”
Erik looked like he might slide right under the table. “Oh, whoa. Sorry about your mom, dude.”
Mari nodded. “How come your dad made you come up here, though? Why not just stay there, like, with friends or something?”
“He wanted me, I guess?” She wasn’t going to admit at all that maybe, just maybe, mind you, Lacey’s momma had said no.
“You didn’t have a stepdad?”
“Nope. My mom didn’t date.”
She knew Eli had been watching her, but he finally opened his mouth. “Didn’t date guys, or didn’t date at all?”
“Didn’t date at all. She worked a lot. She was a lawyer.” Didn’t date guys? Mom didn’t live in Austin proper. Hell, Momma had spent more time with Aunt Franny than anyone else.
Eli sighed. “My dad is a lawyer. I know what you mean. He works long days.”
“Dude, have you seen the video of this guy?” Erik held his phone up so Eli could see. “Check him out.”
“Wait, is that the Wade vid? Lemme see.” Mari got up and moved around behind Eli’s chair.
Sammy leaned a little bit so she could look, too, even though she had no clue what they were on about.
“Watch him, right… here. Whoop! Big air, up over the freakin’ guard rail!”
“What the—”
“Right? And fast too, man.”
Eli shook his head. “I’d like to live to be seventeen, thanks.”
Erik put his phone down on the table. “No shit, right? He’s a senior.”
“A senior here?” Eli sounded surprised.
“Yup.”
Mari went back to her chair and picked up her coffee. “He’s cute, right?”
“He’s okay.” She knew boys that were cuter.
“Oh yeah? What’s cute in Texas?”
“Well, in Texas you’re supposed to be into football players a lot, but….” She thought Eli was way cuter, didn’t she?
Mari laughed. “Well, you’re hanging with the wrong crowd, then. Erik, you ever played football?”
Erik made a face. “I don’t even watch football.”
“How about you, Eli? I bet you never even touched a football.”