by Cindi Madsen
“It’s okay,” Summer said, squeezing back. “I just didn’t want to leave the house without you knowing. It seemed important to say, for some reason.”
“She even said it to me that morning before I left for the conference.” Dad appeared to be back, reliving the memory. He looked a little sad, but not like the memory crushed him.
“She said it to me, too,” Summer said. Right before I begged her not to go. She broke free from the hug, the guilt too heavy, her heart knotting so tightly she wasn’t sure it’d ever go back to normal. “Okay, I’ll be back in a few.”
With the sun setting, the temperature dipped down into the low sixties. It shouldn’t feel that cold—not after the face-freezing, see-your-breath cold she’d experienced in Chicago. She still shivered and tucked her hands into her pockets.
As she walked, the problem between Ashlyn and her mom weighed heavy on her. Okay, as much as she hated to believe in signs, she’d seen too much to not give them a little consideration. The fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about her job meant she couldn’t ignore it anymore.
New resolution: Keep working on Ashlyn’s relationship with her mom.
It didn’t mean she planned on giving up her efforts to keep Ashlyn’s death from happening, but there was that whole better-safe-than-sorry thing to worry about. Besides, if she repaired their relationship, it would mean Ashlyn’s life was better. And Summer wanted her to have the best life she could. However long it was going to last.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Troy stood in the hall right before third period, flirting with what’s-her-face from the volleyball team. She laughed; he grinned. It was disgusting. Summer ducked alongside another group and hurried past him, focusing on the ground so she wouldn’t have to witness any more of it. She was almost to Mrs. Crawford’s room when she realized she’d forgotten her binder. She’d go in without it, but it had her homework in it, and Mrs. Crawford already had it out for her.
Grumbling, Summer hurried back the way she’d come from.
A new girl was talking to Troy now. This one blond, but wearing the same stupid, smitten expression as the first. What the hell? Does he have to flirt with everyone?
Summer pushed around the items in her locker, chucking pens and crumpling up papers. Why did he have to go and kiss me? I was fine before he did that. His popularity with the girls only seemed to grow, and one thing remained: She was still the friend.
Feeling stupid for falling him in the first place, she grabbed her binder and slammed her locker closed.
“Hey, Sunshine.”
Summer didn’t bother looking at him. “Troy.” She didn’t want to be next on his flirt-with-me list. It seemed to get more extensive by the day, and it was wreaking havoc on her emotions.
“Oh, it’s Troy now?” he asked. “I don’t seem dangerous enough to be Mr. Bond today?”
“Actually, you seem very Bond-like today.” Summer spun on her heel and started toward her classroom for the second time this day.
Troy fell into step next to her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means what it means.”
“Now that you clarified, it makes perfect sense.” Troy gripped her arm and pulled her to a stop. “Why are you so mad at me?”
“I’m not mad,” she said through clenched teeth. “I just think maybe I need a break from you right now.”
Troy threw his hands up. “Fine. I can’t figure you out anyway.”
“Yeah, I’m the problem. Don’t worry about taking any of the blame.” Summer stormed away, rage burning inside her.
***
“I can’t stay any longer,” Summer said, and was rewarded with more dirty looks from the girls on the dance team.
“So now you’re going to quit?” Kendall shrieked. “We’ve got to restructure three eight counts in the middle before the pep rally on Thursday.”
Summer looked from face to face, not wanting to give in, but knowing the routine needed work. Since the volleyball team had a game Thursday night, they’d moved the pep rally up a day. “I need to make a quick phone call, then. Let’s take five.”
Kendall exhaled. “Summer needs a five, everyone. We all know that Summer takes whatever she wants, so we all might as well get a rest.”
That was the nicest Kendall had been in a while. Summer dug through her bag until she found her phone. She sent a quick text to Dad and dialed Ashlyn’s number.
“Scott Pilgrim Versus the World is ready to go,” Ashlyn’s cheery voice informed her. “Can you bring me a Diet Coke on your way? I’m all out.”
Hanging with Ashlyn would be way more fun than sticking around here. “You don’t know how much it kills me to say this, but I’ve got to cancel. We’ve got to fix the routine so it’ll be ready for the pep rally, and it’s going to be a late night.”
“That sucks,” Ashlyn said. “I understand, though.”
“I feel so bad. I’d rather be there hanging with you. It’s just that…”
“That you love to dance and those girls will kick you off if they get an excuse. We’ll reschedule. Tomorrow night, okay?”
Summer loved that Ashlyn didn’t throw hissy fits whenever things didn’t go her way, the way the blonde who was most likely glaring daggers at her back had. “Have I told you how much you rock?”
“Yeah, but you can tell me again.”
“You rock so much that they’re thinking about changing paper, rock, scissors, to paper, Ashlyn, scissors.”
Ashlyn laughed. “Okay, that was really bad.”
Summer smiled, the tension leaking out of her. “See you tomorrow.”
“Call me later if you’re bored.”
The next hour and a half was filled with dancing, insults, and tears. Anytime Summer suggested a move, all the girls vetoed it. Then Lexi couldn’t get the new moves and ended up crying. Finally they called practice before anyone else could have a nervous breakdown.
Pulling her jacket tight against the cool air, Summer walked to her car. Troy’s Jeep sat a few spaces away from hers. She glanced around, but there was no sign of him. That boy is hiding something, and it’s got to be bad if he doesn’t want anyone to know what it is.
Summer climbed in her car and slammed the door. She didn’t want to think about Troy. Chevelle greeted her when she started up her car—nice and loud, just the way she liked it. As she drove away, her thoughts turned to Ashlyn. She waited until she reached a stoplight to grab her phone and call her. “So, I’m all danced out,” Summer said after Ashlyn answered.
“I guess you don’t want to hit the beach first thing tomorrow morning, then?”
“No, not really.” Summer thought of Ashlyn, the scare on Saturday. “Promise me you won’t go surfing without me, though.”
“Summer, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’ll go with you then. Just don’t go without me.”
“Don’t worry,” Ashlyn said. “I’m not going to go tomorrow. Maybe Saturday.”
“Saturday’s good.” Red and blue lights flashed behind Summer. “Oh, holy crap. Ashlyn, I’ve got to go. I’m getting pulled over. Again.”
Summer tossed her phone onto the passenger seat and pulled to the side of the road. Dad was going to kill her. How many times had he lectured her about talking on her phone while driving? He wouldn’t care that she’d waited for a stoplight or that she wasn’t speeding.
I’m almost sure I wasn’t speeding. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to get all the necessary paperwork out of the glove box. Okay, calm down. Who knows why he’s stopping me. It’s so dark, there’s no way he could possibly see I was on the phone.
“Oh joy,” Summer said when she saw the cop standing next to her car. “It’s the same guy.”
Summer rolled down her window. “I swear I wasn’t speeding.”
“You were on your cell phone,” the officer said.
“You can’t be on a cell phone here? I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just moved from Idaho.” Yes, she knew
the states where you could legally talk on the phone as a minor—Dad had told her that even if they’d lived in those states, he still wouldn’t let her. She really hoped the cop wouldn’t look that up, although this guy probably would.
“You’re not wearing your seatbelt either.”
Summer looked down. “Oh yeah, ‘cause I got out all my paperwork.” She held it up.
He took the papers from her. “I’ll be right back.”
“But this is just a warning, right? Since I didn’t know?”
“I don’t give warnings,” he said before walking back to his car.
Summer glanced at her passenger seat, expecting Gabriella to show up. Minutes passed, and she didn’t show, leaving Summer to think she was on her own. Well, at least I don’t have to sit through one of her lectures, but I could use some advice. Dad’s so not going to be happy about me getting another ticket.
She tapped her fingers on her thighs, wondering how she was going to break it to him. Then again, who says he has to know?
***
Summer tossed her keys in the bowl and closed the door behind her. On the drive home, she’d formulated a plan. She’d pull out money from her savings account to pay for the ticket. That way, Dad would never have to know.
“Hey, kid,” Dad’s voice drifted into the room. “Why don’t you come here for a minute?”
When she got into the living room, Tiffany was on the couch next to dad. While she looked like she usually did—hair pulled up, dress, high heels—there was something different in her expression. Worry? Fear?
“What’s going on?” Dad asked.
Good thing Dad couldn’t hear her heart beating, because the guilt of not telling him about the ticket was making her twitchy. The way he looked at her, it was like he already knew. But there was no way he possibly could.
Summer cleared her throat, shifting from her right foot to her left. “Well, you got my text about late practice, right? Kendall wanted to whip everyone into perfect form for the pep rally.”
Dad nodded. Behind his back, Tiffany made arm motions. Palms together, apparently motioning a fish.
“Did you go fishing?” Summer asked.
Tiffany dropped her hands and shook her head.
“When have I ever gone fishing?” Dad asked. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me something?”
Summer searched for something to tell him. Any news to satisfy his curiosity. “Troy and I got in a fight today. He can be so frustrating.” Hanging around all those girls. Then he acted shocked that she wasn’t happy to be next in line. Ugh. “Anyway, I’m kind of bummed about it, so I’m just going to head to my room.” She turned to walk away.
“If you think you’re going to your room before we discuss you getting pulled over for the second time in a matter of weeks, then you’re mistaken.”
Summer froze. How can he possibly know that? He’s good, but not that good.
When she turned back to face dad, she noticed Tiffany chewing on her nails, avoiding eye contact. Dad’s girlfriend had ratted her out.
“Tiffany was driving over here and saw you pulled off the road, a cop car behind you,” Dad said.
Summer clenched her teeth and turned her gaze to her betrayer.
“Don’t be mad at her. She was worried about you.”
“Dad, I’m going to take care of it. I wasn’t speeding—I’ve been so careful not to. I dialed at a stoplight, so see, I was thinking about safety. I just really needed to talk to Ashlyn, only for a quick second. It was the same cop, and, as he so nicely informed me, he doesn’t give warnings.”
“You should’ve told me,” Dad said. “Instead, you tried to hide it.”
“But Dad—”
“I’m disappointed. Now go to your room. We’ll discuss your punishment later.” He didn’t have to yell; the tone was enough to say there was no point arguing.
Summer trudged upstairs. She’d tried to give Tiffany a shot, but the woman just ruined it. A horrible feeling twisted in the pit of her stomach. Dad was disappointed in her. She’d rather get grounded, or have him yell at her—anything was better than him saying that.
I can’t get grounded, though. Ashlyn’s life depends on me being by her side to keep her from dying.
How am I ever going to explain that to Dad, though?
Summer kicked off her shoes and dove onto her bed, burying her face in her pillows. The days kept getting crappier and crappier. She wanted this one to hurry up and end before it could get any worse.
She rolled over, and her gaze drifted to the stupid brochure on her nightstand. It was propped up so she couldn’t miss it, and she knew she hadn’t been the one to put it there. She grabbed it and opened it up. A post-it was stuck over the tips for open communication. In glittery pink handwriting was a simple message:
You’re running out of time
- Gabriella
And just like that, things got remarkably worse.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Summer walked into chemistry and looked around for a new desk to move to. Although they didn’t have assigned seating, most people stuck to their same places. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Troy seated at his usual desk. She wasn’t about to sit next to him after that stupid encounter in the hall yesterday. It was too hard to be around him when all she could think about was how much she liked him and how much he liked girls in general.
The one seat left habitually unoccupied was behind this weird kid with greasy hair. Remembering her goal to be nice to everyone, she decided to give the guy a chance. Summer slid into the desk behind him and was hit with the overpowering stench of at least a week’s worth sweat and she didn’t even want to guess what else.
That’s right. Everyone calls this kid Stinky Steve. The guy was known for not showering or bothering with deodorant.
Nice kick or not, Summer couldn’t stand the smell. Every time she breathed in, it seemed like she could taste it. Even pushing her nose against her fist didn’t work. The stench seeped through, making her eyes water.
Mr. Jennings walked in, and Summer darted to her usual seat before she lost the chance. By the time she’d settled in and took a few deep breaths of relatively decent smelling air, Mr. Jennings was at the board starting his lecture.
“That was weak,” Troy whispered.
Summer didn’t reply. She opened her notebook to take notes.
“I admire your dedication to taking a break from me, but you couldn’t stand the smelly guy for five minutes. I expected better.”
Unable to ignore him anymore, she turned to him. “You could move, you know.”
Troy stretched out, a big grin on his face. “I like this seat.”
Summer returned her attention to the board as Mr. Jennings rattled off facts about types of chemical reactions.
“Come on, Sunshine. I’m sorry, okay.”
She glanced across the aisle at him. His stupid cute face and extra charming smile annoyed her even more. “You don’t even know why you’re sorry,” she whispered back. “So how can you even be sorry?”
“Because you’re mad. I don’t even care why; I just want you to stop being mad at me.”
Summer lifted a finger to shush him. He was getting way too loud. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”
“Summer,” Mr. Jennings said. “You had your hand up. Do you know the answer?”
Suddenly, she had the attention of everyone in the room. “Actually, Troy was saying he knew the answer.”
Mr. Jennings’s eyes moved to Troy. “Troy?”
“I’m sure I do know the answer,” Troy said. “First I just need to know the question.”
That response got a few chuckles.
“I suggest you pay better attention,” Mr. Jennings said. “I asked what type of chemical reaction the formula on the board is.”
Troy studied the equation for a moment. “Decomposition reaction.”
“That’s right. Now, let’s talk about the other kinds of reactions…” Mr. Jennings continu
ed his lecture, and Summer focused on scribbling all the information down. At least she’d made Troy squirm for a few seconds. Too bad he somehow had all the answers.
After class, Summer gathered all her supplies and headed out of the classroom. A few steps into the hall, an arm wrapped around her shoulders, and she was pulled against a solid body. “You owe me for that you know,” Troy said.
Summer raised an eyebrow at him. “I guess we’re even.”
“Does that mean you forgive me for whatever I did?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. I never said I was mad. I just said I needed a break.”
“From this?” he gestured to himself, an incredulous look on his face.
Summer rolled her eyes. “Your humility. It’s a problem.”
“So was that you I saw pulled over last night? It looked like your car.”
Apparently, everyone had seen her last night. “This cop has it out for me. It’s the second time he’s pulled me over, and my dad’s upset because I tried to hide it. His girlfriend ratted me out before I even got home. First, he gave me this total guilt trip. Then this morning, on top of his usual defensive driving spiel, I got a lecture on trust. I think it would’ve felt better if he yelled or grounded me. Of course, that would be really bad. I can’t get grounded now. I’m not even close to finished with my job.”
“Your job?” Troy asked.
Summer’s mouth hung open, her mind searching for a way to cover her slip. “My job to get my dance moves up to par. The girls aren’t happy with them.” She started down the hall, and Troy stayed next to her. “By the way, why were you here so late last night?”
Troy just stared.
“I saw your Jeep was still in the parking lot,” she said. “We practiced late.”
“Oh, nothing. I just had to do some stuff.” Troy glanced down the hall. “In fact, I’ve got to get to my next class.”
Of course you do. I should start calling you Mister Dodge all the Questions. “Are you going to come hang out with us at lunch?”
Troy shook his head. “I can’t today.”
“You never have any time to hang out anymore. You’re always off and running somewhere mysterious.”