This could change everything.
But it wasn’t mine.
The bag felt heavier and heavier in my hands.
Forget two weeks.
Jane could leave right now. The second she had this money, she was gone.
JANE
Maybe I could leave even sooner. This lunch shift plus one more might actually do it for the bus ticket, if I could wrangle enough tips.
“Well, hey there,” a vaguely familiar voice called out. “Ding, ding. Do I gotta ring a bell for service or what?”
I realized I’d been wiping the same spot on the counter over and over, so deep in thought.
“Sorry, zoned out.” I grabbed a menu and pushed it over to the customer, looked up, and froze. “Oh. Hi.”
It was Sophia’s boyfriend, Diego. He slid onto one of the sea-green vinyl stools, its metal legs screeching as he dragged it across the checkered tiles.
“Heard you were working here. Like it?”
“Sure,” I said. “How about you? Everything good in the, uh . . . where do you work again? Something with cars?”
“Everything at the shop is fantastic. Had some guys stop by this morning though, made me think of you . . . What’s the pie of the day?”
My back stiffened. “What?”
“Pie of the day? I hope it’s pecan. I sure do like pecan pie.”
“It’s apple. What guys?” I nervously looked around. Nancy was busy in the back. The only other people here were Mr. and Mrs. Hillcrest in the corner booth. They weren’t listening, peering over their matching bifocals at the newspaper they shared, waiting for their meatloaf special.
“I guess I’ll have a slice of the apple then,” Diego said. “And a coffee—extra cream, extra sugar. I got a sweet tooth.”
I cut him a slice of pie and placed the plate in front of him with a louder clatter than I intended.
“Will you tell me what you’re talking about?” I leaned in close.
“Why don’t you tell me what I’m talking about?” Diego said and took a big bite of pie. “Mmm. Can I get some whipped cream?”
Frustrated, I accidentally sprayed out a huge blob.
He laughed and scooped up a fingerful and licked it off. “Why you stressin’, girl? I’m looking out for you. Sophia asked me to help. I’m helping.”
I turned and grabbed the coffeepot, trying to act as normal as I could. But I couldn’t hide the sharp edge in my voice. “Tell me what you’re getting at, Diego. Please.”
He leaned both elbows on the counter and gestured for me to come in close.
“Some guys have been asking if there are any new girls around . . . with big blue eyes . . . Know of any?”
The steaming coffee I was pouring him overflowed and splashed out onto my arm. I jumped back with a wince.
“Nope,” I said, looking him straight in the eye. “Do you?”
“Sure don’t,” Diego said. “I told you: any friend of Sophia’s . . .”
He slid an envelope across the counter to me, hidden under a couple of dollars for the pie.
“I’m on your side, Jane,” he said, pointing at my lopsided name tag. “And if I were you, I would take this and run.”
CADE
I shoved the money under the driver’s seat of my truck. My hands gripped the wheel white-knuckled.
Maybe the police would figure out who was responsible for the bridge murders. Maybe they’d arrest someone. Maybe all this cartel stuff would die down. And then Jane could stay and finish out the school year, and we could ditch Tanner together. Start over.
I would tell Jane after the game. Say I had a surprise. Take her out to dinner somewhere or something. A nice place. The new one, by the river.
I drove like frickin’ NASCAR to the diner, lost in my thoughts, not noticing the sports car with cheesy flames painted on it until I pulled right up behind it to park. I glanced in the big front window of the diner and recognized Diego in his sunglasses.
He was talking to Jane. I leaned over my steering wheel to get a better look.
He handed her something. She tucked it into her waistband under her shirt. Diego sauntered out, hopped in his car, and drove off. Jane hung up her apron and cashed out.
“Hey,” she said casually as she climbed in with me.
“Hey,” I said. I waited for her to say something about Diego. “How was work?”
“Fine.”
“Anything interesting?”
“At Fancy Nancy’s? Oh, you know it,” Jane said.
My jaw clenched. She wasn’t going to tell me?
I found myself pushing the bag deeper beneath the seat with my heel as we drove.
At the next stoplight, my phone buzzed with a text from Savannah: Can’t wait to see you all tonight! Please make Jojo come, it read.
“Who’s that?” Jane asked.
“Savannah. You sticking around to go to her party?”
“Um, I mean, yes, right?” Jane said. “Everything status quo . . .”
“Till it’s not.”
“I wouldn’t leave without telling you.” Jane frowned.
“You sure about that?” I asked. Because that’s exactly what it looked like she was going to do.
“Trying to get rid of me?” she hesitantly joked. “You know I don’t have enough money yet. What’s going on? Why are you being weird?”
I took a deep breath in. I was overreacting. I should give her the benefit of the doubt. Jane only kept secrets when she thought it would keep us safe. Still, the sight of her with Diego made my stomach drop to my ripped-up shoes. It killed me that she would trust someone like him over me.
“Nothing. Been a long day.”
“As long as that’s it,” she said, trying to read my face. “I was, uh, going to get ready over at the Moraleses’. Jojo is letting me borrow a dress.”
“I’ll drop you. I didn’t shower after practice,” I said. “I need to go home.”
“Yeah, you’re really soaked and muddy,” Jane said. She reached over and pulled a twig off my shorts. “What did you do? Run into a tree?”
“Putting in the work. Sunday’s everything.” I pulled up in front of Mattey and Jojo’s. “Anyway, see you in a bit.”
“See you in a bit,” Jane repeated.
As Jane walked away she glanced back, and it was like we both had X-ray vision. I could see through to the envelope under her shirt, and she could see right into my head and know I found the one thing she needed the most and hadn’t said a word.
When I got home I hid the bag of money under the loose floorboard under my bed.
Jane would say something to me about Diego and whatever it was he had given her. She had to. Probably tonight, in the barn, after the party. And then I would tell her about the money, and we could figure out what to do next. I paced the slanted, creaky floor of my room. The walls felt like they were closing in. We’d never lied to each other before.
JANE
We shouldn’t be punished for dreaming. But until something is real, it’s just a cruel game of make-believe. My time in Tanner, Texas, was pretend. Here I was, back in Jojo’s room, trying to blend in and stay hidden, but everywhere I turned, it seemed the searchlight was getting closer to illuminating everything.
Jojo was on a tirade as she pinned her dress to fit me, still so angry with Savannah that she was boycotting her birthday.
When Cade walked in, all cleaned up, I tried to catch his eye, but he didn’t look my way. Something was going on with him. I felt a knot form in my chest. I should have told him right away about what Diego had given me. But I didn’t want him to know that I had accepted more help from a . . . halcón or whatever it was Mr. Morales had called Diego. I could still feel the bite of Cade’s sharp words from when we first met: Y’all can rot with the cartel together.
And now I wasn’t sure how to
even back into it. It was like when you hesitate crossing a busy street. You probably could have made it, but the second-guessing cost you the chance, and then the traffic is coming too fast. The moment felt gone. If I tried to say something now I was going to get run over by the big speeding Mack truck that carried all my secrets.
Cade interrupted Jojo’s rant. “Gunner says his mom found who did the graffiti. School surveillance camera caught some guys getting the spray paint out of their cars. And she checked with Joe’s Hardware, and sure enough, they sold paint to some kids from our school the day before.”
“Oh my God, who?” Jojo asked, eyes wide.
“Couple of freshmen who think they’re tough. Won’t be seeing them for a while, that’s for sure.”
“Good. I hope they’re kicked out.”
“Me too,” I said, “but maybe we can try to put this behind us now. You and Savannah have been friends since diaper days. And she did apologize.”
“She said she was sorry she hurt my feelings,” Jojo argued. “She didn’t apologize for what she actually said.”
“Why don’t you explain it to her then?” Cade asked.
“I shouldn’t have to! Why do you always defend her, anyway?” Jojo demanded.
“I’m just sayin’, all it would take is a conversation and you two would be back to normal.”
“So you’re going to her party.”
“Look, I get why you’re mad. I told her it was messed up too,” Cade said. “But I think if you’re still upset you should call her and say how you feel. Otherwise all this ranting is just going to make you crazy.”
He helped himself to a soda from the Moraleses’ fridge.
“Jane?” Jojo turned to me as her next possible ally.
“Um?” I looked to Cade to get me out of Jojo’s line of fire. He passed me a plate of snacks without making eye contact.
“Yes, Jane is going. Everyone’s going. You’re the only one,” he said.
“Ugh,” Jojo groaned. “Fine. Jane, we have work to do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked through a mouthful of chips and Mrs. Morales’s pico de gallo.
Jojo let out a dramatic sigh. “If you’re going to compromise your integrity by going to Savannah’s stupid birthday party, you think I’m going to let Jane go there looking anything but perfect? One of you needs to look decent.” Jojo unleashed a huge cloud of hairspray right in my face like a weapon.
“What’s wrong with how I look?” Cade protested, coughing and backing up.
“You’re wearing jeans!” Jojo was apparently appalled.
“They’re dark jeans. They’re my fancy pants.” He did a little two-step to bug her.
The second Cade joked around, I felt myself relax a little bit. I didn’t want to be walking on eggshells with him. I wanted to soak this in, all of it, the laughter, the normalcy. I wanted to believe in this story for a few more days.
“I think he looks nice,” I said.
“Sure, defend your cousin.” Jojo brandished the curling iron. “Do you really want to mess with me right now? I mean, your hair is in my hands. I could make you look like a disaster.”
“Okay, okay. Do your thing,” I surrendered.
“Oh, and then there’s this situation,” Jojo pointed to Mattey as he strutted into the room. “He thinks it counts as a silent protest against what Savannah said.”
Mateo was wearing a suit embroidered with intricate gold designs, with a matching giant bow tie and wide-brimmed hat. He gave us a cheesy double thumbs-up.
“I’m embracing my heritage.”
“More like playing to the stereotype.” Jojo snorted.
“That’s the whole point. La cucaracha, la cucaracha . . .” he sang right next to Jojo’s face.
“Like Savannah will even get it. Please. She’ll just think you came as her own personal mariachi singer,” Jojo said. But Mattey’s attention was suddenly fixed on me.
“Wow, Jane, you look so pretty,” Mattey said earnestly.
“Told ya.” Jojo took a little bow.
“You are red-carpet ready, girl. Now go be hotter than Savannah for me, okay?” Jojo said, motioning for me to go look in the mirror.
My face was framed in soft waves, and the makeup Jojo put on my eyes made me look like an old-time movie star, one of those actresses you see in flickery black and white, so beautiful they don’t seem real.
CADE
A long line of cars went from the front gates of Savannah’s house down the side of the street. How many people were invited to this thing?
“The whole school, of course. And then a bunch of my dad’s friends. We invited three hundred,” Savannah announced when I asked on the way in. “And then I uninvited two guests. Did you hear Sheriff Healey solved the graffiti?”
“Yeah. Gunner said.”
Savannah grabbed my hand. “Does Jojo know?”
“Yeah, she does.”
Savannah stood up on her tiptoes, looking for her.
“She’s sitting this one out,” I said, then quickly changed the subject. “So, three hundred people. I didn’t even know there were that many people in Tanner,” I joked.
“Actually, no,” Savannah said. “Not that many important people, anyway. They’re all, like, state people. Senators and stuff. A lot of businessmen my dad says had to come. I think he thinks it’s his birthday.”
She looked tired. But only for a second.
“Jane! You’re, like, stunning. Doesn’t she look drop-dead? Cade? Mattey?”
I had been trying not to look at Jane. The way her dress swung, how her hair fell, her smooth, suntanned skin—everything about the way she looked tonight contradicted my doubts and made me want to grab that money, grab her hand, and never look back. Just me and her and whatever came next. But . . . Diego. Raff. Mexico. Her past was catching up to her . . . to us. The future seemed impossible.
“She looks good,” Mattey agreed. “Like my outfit?”
“You look very . . . festive,” Savannah answered. “You remind me of the guys who worked at the resort where we stayed in Cabo last year.”
Jojo was right: clueless. Mattey laughed and rolled his eyes behind her back.
“But seriously, Jane! Not fair! No one’s allowed to be prettier than the birthday girl.” Savannah tried to pretend she was kidding.
She smoothed the skirt of her short pink dress and looked back and forth between Jane and me for a split second before clapping her hands together and leading us around. A murmur, the proper level of loud, filled the mansion as guests made their small talk. Glasses and silverware were all clink-clink fancy, and servers wearing black and white handed us things to eat on toothpicks with napkins in way-too-small bites.
Mrs. Maddison kissed us on both cheeks and cupped our hands in her cool dry ones.
“It’s a pleasure. Welcome,” she said over and over to each guest.
“Psst.” Savannah leaned in as soon as her mother was out of range. “I paid off a couple of the servers to sneak us champagne.”
She grabbed Jane’s arm and motioned for Mattey and me to follow her.
“Have some.” Savannah shoved a glass into my hand. “Here’s to us!”
I hesitated.
“All of us,” she added, making sure Mattey and Jane had some too.
“Come on, Cade, cheers!” Savannah pouted.
We tapped our glasses together. I touched the sour bubbles to my mouth and tried to make myself take a sip. The second Savannah looked away to point us in the direction of the door, Jane quickly switched glasses with me so it looked like I drank mine. Thank you, I mouthed. She gave me a knowing look and shrugged one shoulder. I felt my stomach flip. That smile. Tell me what’s going on. What did Diego give you? I wanted to say, but I held it in.
Savannah was about to steer us all outside when I heard someone call my
name.
Gunner’s mom. She looked out of place in a dress instead of her sheriff’s uniform and hat, and she’d put some lipstick on for the party.
“Hey, Cade, how are you doing?”
“Look at you all fancy, Mrs. H,” I teased.
“This is as good as it gets, kid,” she answered. “Everything okay at the farm? Tommy Mack clean everything up good?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And your father?”
“He’s all right.”
“You know you can come to me if anything’s ever . . . a problem.”
“Sure, Mrs. Healey. I know that. Thanks.”
There was an awkward pause.
Gunner looked dumbstruck beside her, staring at Jane.
“Hi, Jane. You look really beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Jane shot him a shy smile.
“Sheriff, nice to see you.” Savannah’s dad swooped in to shake her hand. “Wasn’t sure I could get you to take a night off.”
“Only once in a blue moon, Garrett. How’s business?”
“Electric,” he said, chuckling at his own joke. Savannah made a face.
“Any progress looking into the bridge murders?” he asked the sheriff.
“Come on now, that’s not party talk,” Mrs. Healey said. She glanced over at us. “Why don’t you kids go have fun?”
“Yeah, let’s go dance!” Savannah said, tugging at my hand. “The band is out back.”
“Hang on a sec, I wanna know,” I said, glancing over at Jane and motioning for her to come closer too. “Did you figure out who did it?”
“We’ve got Homeland Security helping,” Gunner’s mom reassured us. “It’s a temporary flare-up while the cartels have their little power struggle. But don’t worry, we’ll snuff ’em both out. Grande and this new one . . . the one they’re calling Lobenzo . . . the Wolf Cub.”
As soon as she said their names, a glass came crashing to the floor beside me. Jane stood, stricken, champagne spilled at her feet, her hand outstretched and empty.
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