“Oh,” Tyler said. He rubbed his chin. “That’s nice. Don’t ruin those.” He flashed her his own smile, which he happened to know was pretty great. People always said that they didn’t know how someone with such a nice smile could turn out to be such a bad kid.
He’d heard that a hell of a lot, actually.
He lit his cigarette and watched Kinley blush for the fourteenth time. She really was cute. As cute as Ivy McWhellen, if you really thought about it. Maybe even cuter. Just more . . . understated. Like, you had to look at her to really get it.
He breathed in deeply, and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. “You’re pretty, you know,” he said.
Kinley smiled again. He liked that smile. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
They were quiet for a moment, and then Tyler suddenly stood and put his hand up, waving someone over.
An old purple Jeep—the kind that’s been painted and repainted—pulled up to the fence. The engine made an odd chugging sound, like a rusty saw drawn over a crumbling slab of cement, and the back was covered in peeling bumper stickers. It wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
“Who’s that?” Kinley asked over the noise.
Tyler stubbed out the cigarette on the fence. “It’s no one you will ever need to know.” He winked at her, then jogged up to the window and clasped hands with the driver.
“Is it coming in or what?” he asked.
The driver, Jer—a pale guy with almost no hair to speak of—handed him a small paper bag.
Tyler reached into his jeans and pulled out a finely folded stack of bills. He was good at this. No one watching would have even seen money, except maybe Kinley, and he kind of wanted her to see. To know.
The pale guy leaned forward and bumped fists with Tyler, and then he drove off, turning up his music as he went, like he hadn’t just been dealing in a school parking lot.
No big deal.
“What was that?” Kinley asked.
Tyler grinned at her.
And even though he could see her fighting it, she grinned back.
Cade
Saturday, June 6
Cade watched his father in front of his closet, flicking through his neckties.
Mr. Sano had quite the collection of neckties.
He was rather famous for it. Everyone always gave him ties—for work anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, anything. But his father only wore the best. Only wore ties out of his private collection, which was imported from all over the world—France, Italy, Spain—but most of the ties came from his father’s home country, Japan. The brands were names Cade couldn’t pronounce.
Someday it would all dry up. Cade heard people talking about it behind closed doors, in quiet voices. Everyone knew it. He knew it was why his father never seemed happy. Well, one of the reasons.
But until then, he would continue to import ties and buy expensive perfumes for his wife and drive the very best cars. In Cade’s opinion, the biggest waste was the ties. Cade could think of better ways to go deeply into debt.
“I don’t need you wasting your summer wasting my money,” his father said, “or going down the same sorry path as some other people we know.” He pulled a tie off, and it made a slick noise against the fabric of his shirt. Mr. Sano held up another option. “Do you like this?”
Cade stood up from his father’s chair. “It’s fine, Dad. And I know. That’s why Bekah and I had this all planned out. We’re going to do an old-school tour. Take Route Sixty-six—you know, the main street of America. Oh, and we were going to go see Centralia. You remember how I did a book report on it in sixth grade? How it’s burning up from underground? Anyway, Dad, it’ll be educational.”
“Bekah, hmm? I think you’re quite up to date on your sex education. She’s a bit of a tart, isn’t she?”
Cade crossed his arms, shoving his hands under his biceps. He wanted to defend his girlfriend. He knew what his father meant by “tart.”
Why was it that Cade could control anyone in his life with a few words, but he could never figure out his own father?
Cade ground his teeth. “I wasn’t referring to Sex Ed, Dad.”
“I know.” His father selected a tie—a deep, dried-blood brown-red—and fastened it around his neck. He patted it all the way down his chest to his stomach, as if it were a living thing. “But I have a better way for you to spend your summer.”
“You said this was fine,” Cade said. “We talked about it ages ago.” He leaned against the giant dresser, which held almost nothing—everything was relegated to the closet. “Bekah’s been saving all year.”
He wasn’t sure why he was saying this. Bekah wouldn’t care. Bekah always put up with whatever he threw at her. She’d probably just shrug and go, “Okay, next summer,” and then they’d make out for a while.
Cade’s father rolled his eyes, his fingers stilled attached to the bottom of the gruesome tie. “Poor thing, saving her money. You’d think she’d be used to disappointment, though, living the way she does.”
“She’s not a bad person, Dad,” Cade managed, his jaw tight.
“Did I say she was?” his father asked. He reached over and pulled a bottle of cologne from the closet, which he dabbed delicately onto his wrists. “Anyway, Cade. I’ve gotten you into a psychology course for college credit. It’ll be much better than frolicking around the country, getting into trouble.”
“A psychology course,” Cade repeated. His heart did this weird, droppy thing that he was too used to. He wasn’t even sure why. It was just a course.
“With our history and your genes, I thought it might be useful.” Cade’s father turned, meeting his eyes for the first time. “It’s already started, but I have a friend who was able to pull some strings. You won’t have missed much.”
Great. That meant Cade had to do extra studying. In the summer. While he could be with Bekah.
“I’d hoped to visit Jeni, too.” Cade didn’t meet his father’s eyes, but he could tell the comment turned him to stone.
“And why would you want to do that?”
Cade shifted back and forth. “For every normal reason why you visit someone.”
Mr. Sano’s voice was like hot iron, hissing and angry and red. “I don’t see any normal reason why you’d want to. Besides, you’ll be very busy with this class. I expect you to excel, Cade. This won’t be one of those summers where you just slack off and spend my money.”
Cade wanted to be angry, but there was something else inside of him. Something deep and sad and strange, but when he felt it rearing up he killed it, fast. Then he walked out of the room before it could rise up again.
Bekah was waiting in the sunroom, drinking mint lemonade that the housekeeper had prepared. She grinned when he walked in and wrapped her arms around him when he was close. The scent of freesia filled Cade’s nose. At least, that’s what Bekah said it was. Cade had never smelled freesias.
“We leave next week,” she said, swiping her red hair out of her eyes. “We leave next week, and I bought maps. Like, real maps. Not the ones printed off the Internet.” She dug into her purse and displayed one. “It’s way bigger than you’d think. Oh, and I bought an atlas, which has, like, all of these interesting facts about places to stop. I didn’t even know they made atlases. I just thought they were a thing in all those old road-trip movies.” She laughed and grabbed on to his hand and spun in a circle.
“You’re excited,” Cade said. He hadn’t realized she cared that much. He watched her dance around, her hair trailing behind her like a lariat of fire.
“Of course,” she said. “I already bought snacks. Like, movie-theater style. And my parents are actually cool with this trip, you know? It took months, but they’re actually cool with it. I actually can’t believe how cool they are. My mom thinks we need to see all of the nerdy stuff, like the biggest ball of yarn and largest wad of used chewing gum.”
“Is that a thing? Used chewing gum?” Cade put his hands on her waist. She wasn’t the smallest girl in the world. That
was probably another reason why his father wouldn’t approve. Her hips were wide and her ass was even wider, and Cade liked her like that.
“If it is, we’re going to see it. And we’re both going to chew actual sticks of gum and add to it.” She giggled and hopped onto him, her legs around his hips. He felt his jeans slip down slightly with the weight of her. “This is going to be the best summer ever, isn’t it?” She leaned back so she could see his whole face, and then leaned in to kiss him.
Cade kissed her back, and all of a sudden, the feeling returned, the deep and strange hurt that he’d felt in his father’s room.
He shoved it away.
Cade unhooked Bekah and set her carefully on the floor.
“I have to tell you something.”
“What?” She looked at him, her eyes shining and her eyebrows raised, like she was expecting a surprise. Like he was going to whip out a box tied in a big bow, and she was the one lucky enough to open it.
She was so naive. So hopeless.
“We can’t go.”
She blinked. “What?”
Cade turned his back to her and looked out the window, onto the lawns they couldn’t afford anymore. The fountain in the higher lawn was running low—barely a trickle erupted from it, and then it ran slowly down to the base. A couple more days without rain and it wouldn’t run at all.
“My dad says I should stay here and take a course for college credit. Get ahead, you know.” Cade’s voice was quiet, calm. Like he didn’t mind staying. Like it didn’t matter.
Because really, it didn’t, Cade reasoned. There were worse things than missing a stupid trip, even if you’ve been planning it and looking forward to it and finally, finally getting away from your father, just for a little while.
“It makes sense for me to stay here.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the couch.
Outside, the lawn crew had just started. There were hedges to trim and the grass was just a tad long. The faint hum of lawn mowers reached his ears.
“But we’ve been planning for this for ages! Don’t you even care?”
Cade shrugged. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. It was that he didn’t really want to care. “I guess I care.” But he only said it because it seemed right.
“Did your father put you up to this?” Bekah asked, her finger in his face. “Was it his idea to cancel the trip? He said it was fine. He said he didn’t mind. He can’t go back on that, Cade. He can’t.”
“No. It was my idea. Dad mentioned the course, yeah, but it was my idea to call off the trip.”
Cade hated himself a little for the lie. He tried to take it back, but his mouth wouldn’t cooperate. The words weren’t there.
Bekah stared at him, and her mouth dropped open, just slightly. “I don’t believe that. You wouldn’t just change your mind like that, Cade.”
“I did. I’m being responsible.”
“You’re being an asshole!” Bekah shouted. “This trip was important to us!” Her eyes grew large and wet, and she sucked in her lips.
Cade shrugged. “Sorry, Bekah,” he said. “We can do it another time.”
She shook her head. Her face was an angry red now, and the color clashed with the soft flame of her curls. The tears that had been welling overflowed onto her cheeks. “No. No, Cade, we can’t.”
Cade frowned. Where was the easygoing girl who let him do anything he wanted? Where was the Bekah who always laughed and told him it was fine? Where was the Play-Doh Bekah who would always rearrange for him?
“Why not?” he asked.
Bekah pulled at her hair. “Because those are the kinds of trips that you take with your girlfriend, Cade.”
“And you’re my girlfriend. So?” Cade reached for her, just like he always did, waiting for her to melt into him. But she stepped out of his grasp.
“So nothing.” She pawed at her face with the back of her hands. “I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”
And Bekah Clark, Cade’s second-favorite person in the world, grabbed her backpack off the table and left, crying.
And Cade was alone.
Ivy
Tuesday, June 9
“Hey, Ivy. Do you remember that time freshman year when you had to take a pregnancy test? Wasn’t that hilarious?”
Ivy’s former best friend, Klaire, grinned at her from across the table.
Ivy’s father coughed and thumped his chest.
“Ivy?” Mrs. McWhellen asked, touching her daughter’s arm. “Is that true?”
Ivy glared at Klaire. This is what the hussy chose to bring up at a family dinner. The absolute worst thing that Klaire could have come up with.
But then, Klaire had never been creative. That was why she’d been Ivy’s second-in-command.
Klaire shouldn’t have even been allowed to set foot in Ivy’s home, but Ivy’s older brother, Daniel, was engaged to Klaire’s older sister, Laila, and the McWhellens had decided to invite the Petrusky girls over to celebrate Daniel’s recent promotion. Apparently he was a Big Deal down at the precinct.
The whole thing made Ivy want to vomit. Why did Laila have to invite Klaire? Certainly Klaire must have told her that Ivy wasn’t her friend anymore.
Everyone knew by now.
“Sure it’s true,” Klaire poked, smiling at Ivy. “Remember? You used the girls’ locker room. We skipped PE.”
Ivy had underestimated her. Klaire was clearly willing to go further than she had ever imagined. Further than almost killing her beneath a vending machine.
She’d advanced to full-on character assassination. In front of Ivy’s entire family. The last people in the entire city who believed that Ivy was worth something.
Ivy glared. She stared at the cheap horse-hair extensions that they’d bought together at a shop on Woodrow. She stared at her stupid, too-flat nose that Ivy had always lied and said was cute. She stared at her former best friend.
It was so on.
Poor, poor Klaire.
But really, Klaire should have known better. Ivy had been Queen for a reason.
Ivy turned to her mother and laughed. “Yeah. We were good friends back then. I actually peed on a pregnancy test just so Klaire wouldn’t have to take one alone!”
Klaire’s eyes bulged. A forkful of lasagna fell back onto her plate with an audible plop.
Maybe Klaire had thought that Ivy had some sort of desire to be her friend again. Maybe Klaire had thought that since she was Queen Bee now, no one would dare touch her. Especially not lowly, fallen Ivy McWhellen, the easiest target of all.
“Klaire!” Laila said, turning to her little sister.
Ivy shook her head and began cutting her lasagna with her fork, like they were discussing grades and the weather. “Yeah. It’s a pretty crazy story, Klaire. I guess I wasn’t sure you were ready to talk about it. I mean, I told her that Eric Langforter was bad news, but no, she had to go under the bleachers with him during a basketball game.” Ivy laughed and leaned forward, like she was recounting a fond memory. “Cut to a month later—poor Klaire! I had to cut gym with her just to get her to take the test.”
Klaire flushed. “Well, Ivy—” she said.
Ivy paused to listen.
“Yes?” she asked. The entire family was silent. Laila stared at Klaire with disgust. Daniel became very, very busy with spearing lettuce on his fork. And Mr. and Mrs. McWhellen—they were statues in their chairs, waiting to hear what horrible crime Ivy had committed.
But Klaire didn’t say anything.
Ivy raised an eyebrow. She knew Klaire had just realized how Ivy had kept her title as Queen Bee all those years.
She knew everyone’s secrets.
But no one knew Ivy’s.
For a few moments, the only sound was silverware clattering over nice plates.
“It was negative,” Klaire said finally, her voice stuck somewhere between hysterical and wheezy. Her face was a blotchy red-white. “The pregnancy test. It was negative.”
No one said anything
. Laila pursed her lips.
Finally, Mr. McWhellen cleared his throat. “Girls, I think that’s enough. Daniel, would you pass me the pitcher of water, please?”
Daniel handed over the pitcher. “So, uh, I get an office at the police station,” he offered. “I mean, I have to split it with Detective Wilkes, but he’s hardly ever there. And, uh, I’m just helping out on stuff for now. But my boss says he’s letting me take the lead on the next big thing that comes up. He thinks I’m ready.”
“That’s wonderful, sweetheart,” Mrs. McWhellen said, eagerly latching on to anything that didn’t have to do with teenage pregnancy. “Are you working on any interesting cases now?”
“Yeah,” Daniel said. He took a sip of water. “Honestly, you wouldn’t believe what goes on around this city. People suck.”
“What’s the most interesting case?” Mr. McWhellen asked. “What’s taking up most of your time?”
Daniel fidgeted. “I can’t really talk about them, you know? It’s all very hush-hush. Legally, I mean.” He said this with Much Importance.
“We understand.” Mrs. McWhellen tried to smile, her face still pinched from the pregnancy conversation.
Klaire was a mottled tomato. “I need to use the restroom.” She stood up from the table, her chair scratching across the hardwood floor. Mrs. McWhellen winced at the noise.
“Certainly,” Mr. McWhellen said. “Who wants dessert? I have cherry pie and ice cream.”
“The cherry pie from the bakery on Fourth?” Daniel asked.
“The very same.”
“I’m in.” Daniel grinned. “Laila, baby, you have got to try this stuff. I know you’re trying to lose weight for the wedding, but this is worth five pounds.”
Normally, Ivy would have agreed with him. Her mother had been picking up the cherry pie for as long as Ivy could remember. But right now, she didn’t want pie. Her stomach was turning.
“Can I be excused?” she asked. She stood up without waiting for a response.
Instead of going to her room—which is where she really wanted to be, but it was on the way to the guest bathroom and she didn’t want to chance running into Klaire—she slipped through the kitchen and into the backyard.
Secrets, Lies, and Scandals Page 3