“Did you pick it all up living here then?”
“You’re worse than the Inquisition,” he sniffs.
“I’m just really impressed you know so much. Most people don’t. Or they don’t care. I’m …”
“Curious?” he cuts me off.
“Yes.”
“Ever hear the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat,’ Ruby?”
“I’m not a cat.”
He looks at me and chuckles. “No,” he says. “You’re not.”
His stare makes me uncomfortable. I have a habit of being too blunt, and until Ezra, I’ve never met anyone else as straightforward.
“So …” Using my backpack as a diversion, I pull out an orange, a bag of Cheetos, and a Snickers bar. I split the Snickers in two and hand him half. “Hungry?”
“Not the Snickers.” He nods. “The orange.”
I stare longingly at the orange and hand it over. Considering the tour he just gave me, it’s only right. Ezra peels the orange slowly, dropping small pieces of peel on his blue jeans. He seems pensive and a little lost in our surroundings.
“So, what’s the lore?” I ask.
“Lore?”
“You said there was lore. About the pueblo.”
Ezra turns his stony face toward the mission. He chews on the edge of an orange segment, taking his time before answering me. “Some of the elders from other pueblos today will tell you that Pecos was full of witchery, or that the Pecos people were enchanted. They’re flush with stories.”
“Like?”
“Like that before Montezuma went back to Mexico, he lit a sacred fire at Pecos and entrusted the Pecos people to keep it lit until he returned. Depending on which Pueblo elder you ask, the Pecos either neglected to keep the fire burning, and then fled for their lives or taxed their people to the point of death and exhaustion tending to it. In one version, the Pecos kept a giant snake god who helped them kindle the flames. The Pecos sacrificed newborns to the snake in exchange for prosperity and protection. But when they got lazy and stopped feeding it, it cursed the pueblo. Some of the Spaniards back in the day believed the Pecos were agents of the Devil. And there are still Pueblo elders today that think Pecos fell to ruin because shamans from rival pueblos cursed it.”
Ezra stops talking. I can’t tell if he just paused or finished telling me the story. I want him to go on, but he looks the slightest bit uncomfortable. “How do you know so much about Pecos?”
“I read a lot.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Books about New Mexico and pueblos?”
“You’re a pain, you know that?”
“I’ve been told,” I mumble self-consciously.
He pops the last piece of orange in his mouth, chewing slowly. “How about I tell you more on the way back?”
Ezra stands up, waiting for me to follow him through the rest of the monument back to the truck. On the way, he occasionally stops to point something out or to tell me about the people who came to the pueblo to escape the Inquisition, or about the Civil War and the now infamous—in my mind at least—Glorieta Battlefield, just miles to the west. He talks all the way to the parking lot and half of the way back to La Luna. When he’s through, he drops his head against his headrest and sighs heavily, as though totally spent.
“Ezra, do you know anything about the ruin near my house?” I ask.
“Near your house? You mean up the mountain?”
“Yeah.”
He sighs. “It’s old.”
“I guessed that.” I give him a look. He doesn’t seem surprised I know about it, but he isn’t excited either. “Do you know who built it?”
Ezra shakes his head. “But it’s tucked away for a reason,” he says gruffly.
“Really? What’s that?”
“If whoever it belonged to wanted people around, they wouldn’t have built it so high on the mountain.” He sets his mouth in a scowl. “Be careful up there.”
“Why? Because El Maldito might get me? Or the ghosts of Glorieta?” I joke.
“Just because, Ruby.”
“You think the forest is haunted?” I ask, a little amused by his somberness.
“I’m big on leaving things that aren’t meant to be meddled with alone.”
Ezra stares straight ahead as he drives, but he keeps his mouth shut. I think about asking him more about the ruin or maybe about Leo, just in case, but his expression makes it clear he isn’t interested in talking.
After a while, when the silence starts to feel a little heavy, I start babbling. “Even if you didn’t study history, you must have a soft spot for it.”
“Not really,” he says. “Just sometimes, despite what I said about moving on, the past makes more sense to me than the present.”
“Nothing makes sense to me lately.” I roll down my window and hold my hand out. “I think that’s why I love history. It just is, independent of what I think. Independent of my longing to make it mean something. Like God. Or space.” I turn away from him, toward the scrubby mesas out my window. “History reminds me that humanity is so much larger than just me and the little world I’ve wrapped myself in. That my life is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. It sounds weird, but I find the idea seriously comforting.”
Ezra makes a sound like snickering. “Pretty girls shouldn’t think so much.”
“That’s a shitty thing to say!” I stare at him, amazed and a little dumbfounded.
“You think it’s shitty I think you’re beautiful?”
“Are you serious, Ezra?”
“It’s true,” he answers. “But I’d lay odds you already know that.”
“That’s right.” I exhale harshly. “I forgot. Daisy did call you a chauvinist.”
“Daisy doesn’t know me very well.”
“Seems like she was on point.”
“What do you know about me, Ruby? Really?” he asks defensively.
“Daisy said that you were an ass before your accident. That you treated girls like garbage. She said you never gave a crap about who you hurt and that everyone knew it. And you know what, Ezra, it’s not that hard to swallow.”
Ezra’s jaw clenches, his knuckles tight and ashy where he grips the steering wheel. He inhales slowly through his nose and opens his mouth like he may say something, then closes it and purses his lips together, letting his breath escape in a stream. He seems angry, and I sense what I said hurt him. And that surprises me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “That was crappy.”
The rest of the drive into La Luna, Ezra watches the road like it might disappear. He doesn’t speak or even blink, as far as I can tell. And he certainly doesn’t acknowledge me. When we pull into town, he quickly finds my car and parks behind it. But he doesn’t open the door like he did when he gave me a ride home from school last week or tell me to leave. Instead, he loops an arm over his steering wheel and turns sideways on his seat.
“Daisy is right,” he says evenly. “I wasn’t very nice. But I’m not a chauvinist. And what I did before you moved here isn’t your business.”
My throat tightens, but I make myself look into his eyes. Even if he is as horrible as everyone says, it doesn’t give me an excuse to behave so poorly. “It’s not my business. You’re right. I’m sorry.” I grab my backpack and move to open the door, but Ezra puts his hand on my knee.
“Wait.” He looks down at the stitching in his upholstery. I can almost hear him counting the threads, following a path with his eyes to the end of each seam. “If you want to know something, ask me. Daisy may be right about a lot of it. But there’s plenty people say that isn’t true. You want to come to a conclusion, come to it honestly. Then you can feel free to judge me.”
His eyes are alarmingly clear, and in them I see the makings of a real, honest friendship. “If you promise to stop being so evasive all the time, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
“I wasn’t exactly bartering.”
“And I can’t exactly come to
my own conclusions if you won’t exactly talk to me.”
He sighs, signaling defeat. And in that moment, I genuinely like him. “All right. I’ll do my best. Just ease up on the interrogation a little, Ruby.”
“Interrogation?”
He crosses his arms over his chest and sits stiffly, pursing his lips.
“Okay. No interrogation. Maybe just, like a little interview here and there?”
“I’ll think about it.”
I hold my hand out to him. “Truce?”
Ezra takes it, grips it firmly, then places it on my knee. “Something like that.”
“You’re the best tour guide a girl could ask for. Thanks for coming with me.”
His smile is small but genuine. “I didn’t really have a choice. You kidnapped me.”
I flush a little, then look at the seat. “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”
“Maybe,” he nods. “We’ll see.”
Seven
Cherry Pie Forever
From out of nowhere, a green blur grabs me before first period, dragging me into the girl’s bathroom. “Did you really leave Margarita’s with Ezra on Saturday?” Racine squawks, circling me in a billowy jade dress. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
“If everyone’s talking about it, why ask?”
“Come on,” she insists. “Tell me.”
“He showed me around the Pecos Monument.”
Racine looks at me askew, tilting her face to the left as though pinning her thoughts down. “I can’t believe you went out with him.”
“We definitely did not go out. I saw Angel outside Margarita’s Saturday morning after you dropped me off, and I panicked. I totally ambushed Ezra’s booth. Believe me, he wasn’t all that thrilled about it. Then I bullied him into going to Pecos.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrow to slits.
I shrug. “I didn’t feel like going alone?”
“I can’t believe he went with you.”
Racine pulls a brush out of her purse and runs it through her long black hair a couple of times. Patting the sides down with her palms, she pushes it behind her ears, letting a swath of bangs fall into her eyes.
“He’s not as bad as everyone says,” I assure her.
“Oh?”
“And why is everyone so surprised?”
“Well,” she smiles sheepishly, “when I say everyone, I mean Daisy. Daisy tells me everything. She’s the gossip mill’s main motor.”
“So, I’m not, like, the morning news?”
“Not yet.” She grabs my sleeve, pulling my purple T-shirt toward her. “Your hair’s a mess, Ruby. Do you fix it in the dark or what?”
Racine tugs my hair out of its rubber band and brushes it until it’s smooth. Pulling it off my face, she wraps the elastic neatly around my new ponytail. Beaming, she turns me toward the mirror.
“Thanks,” I mumble, quickly turning away again.
Racine rolls her eyes but keeps her mouth shut. She locks an arm in mine and drags me out of the bathroom. “Let’s find Ashley. She’s dying to know why you were out with Ezra.”
“You just said no one knows.”
“I’m the one who told her. Ezra dated her sister back in the day. I think it’s fair to say that Ash isn’t fond of him. He totally played Cassie.”
I sigh. The more I learn about Ezra, the less I understand him.
Ashley makes herself scarce until lunchtime, and thankfully, Racine knows enough to keep my visit with Ezra to herself around Marta. While Las Gallinas compare their weekends, I watch the sky over the mountains. In a breathless rush, they tick off who went where, on what date, and with whom. They gossip about how their dates looked. And what they wore. And what they ate. And said. And how often they breathed and used the bathroom. They pore over carefully compiled checklists, meticulously marking off each detail like every little facet is the most important thing since the invention of lip gloss or Cheetos. Eventually, the queue gets around to me. They all want to know what I did with my weekend—or more specifically, what I did with Angel when we left the bar on Friday.
Marta grins, stretching casually. “Davis told me you left with him.”
“Who’s Davis?” I ask.
“Davis is the dude with the spiky blue hair and labret piercing. You know, the one who sat with us for a couple minutes before Daniel came over,” Ashley answers. “He’s Marta’s brother’s best friend.”
“Oh. Well.” I pause. “Angel gave me a ride home. That’s it.”
Racine smiles at the table. Marta looks disappointed. “What a waste.” She frowns.
When the fifth-period bell rings, Marta follows Racine and me into the main building. “Hey, Ruby,” she says, sort of thoughtfully. “I’m throwing a party in a couple weeks. You and Angel should come.”
I nod yes, hopeful the invite is a sign Marta is thawing. “Thanks.”
“I mean, I’m inviting him anyway,” she adds. “Come or don’t. I’m just saying.”
Racine clutches my elbow and steers me down the hall toward Media Tech. “We’ll call you!” she shouts over her back. Before class starts, she sits on my desktop leaning toward me. “Ignore her. She’ll get over it. She just feels a little threatened.”
“Why?” I squint up at her.
“What do you mean, why? Seriously, Ruby? You’re the pretty new girl.” She shakes her head and looks toward the blackboard like someone wrote the answer across its chalky surface. When I snort, she bonks me on the head.
“I’m sorry, I don’t get it,” I tell her. “It’s not like Marta’s Quasimodo or something.”
“You don’t, do you.” She sighs. “Just give her a break for now. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Of course. I mean I am the new girl. Duh. And pissing off Marta isn’t on my agenda, I swear.”
Racine smiles and hops off my desk. After class, she sings Angel’s praises on the way to sixth period, and after that, while we wait on the front quad for the rest of Las Gallinas.
“I get it.” I finally stop her. “You want me to come to Marta’s party with him.”
“You may as well. It’s totally going around that you’re an item.”
“But we’re not. We haven’t even gone on a date.” I’m not sure what to say about the rumor, but I feel like I need to say something, or maybe just change the subject. “We never got a chance to talk to Ashley about Ezra.”
“I’ll talk to her. Just, Ruby, if Daisy knows, everyone knows. Or at least they will soon.”
“Then they will.” I shrug.
News, even fake news, travels fast in the pass. Since Angel and I are apparently already on the brink of betrothal, I spend the next couple of days waiting for one of Las Gallinas to grill me about Ezra, especially Marta. If anyone is going to say something obnoxious, Marta is it. But she doesn’t ask. No one says anything, not in town or at school. Not until Thursday afternoon, when I run into Angel at the library in downtown La Luna.
“Hey.” He smiles when he notices me. “What’re you doing?”
“Hey yourself.” I smile back. “I’m trying to find some info on the ruin near my house. Though I’m supposed to be studying for a calculus exam.”
“Any luck?” he asks, sitting down beside me.
I stare down at the book in front of me. The library’s overfilled stacks cram the compact building, but except for a few texts about the Santa Fe Trail and the Battle of Glorieta, most of the library’s regional collection focuses on the area’s Native American culture or the nearby Pecos Pueblo.
“Not really. Though I’m learning more about New Mexico’s ruins in general.”
“I called you last night. Did you get my message?”
“Uh,” I pause, debating whether to lie or not, “I did.”
Angel throws an arm around the back of my seat. “So how do you feel about going into Santa Fe with me tomorrow night for dinner?”
How I feel is nervous and unsure, which is why I never called Angel back, but I’m not about to tell him th
at. Instead, I look into his green eyes and nod yes.
He smiles. “Did you just accept my invitation?”
“I guess I did.”
Angel raps his knuckles on the table lightly. “Great. I made reservations at this restaurant Torrance told me about. And I was thinking we could stop by my mom’s place first. She owns a little cafe out on the south side of Santa Fe.”
“Great,” I mumble. If he already made reservations, he either hedged his bets or was pretty damned sure I’d agree. Either way, the boy has initiative.
“So, I’ve been meaning to ask …” he hesitates.
I nod, flipping through my notebook while I wait.
“What happened after you left Margarita’s with Ezra Saturday.”
“We went to the Pecos Pueblo.”
Angel tips back in his seat. “I’m not sure why he went with you, Ruby. But I’d be careful.”
“Thanks,” I grumble. “I guess I am lousy company.”
He flicks my ear playfully. “That’s not what I meant. I’m saying he’s not very social. It’s not like him to spend time with anyone. Even someone as charming as you, princess.”
“I’m persuasive,” I insist. “And don’t call me princess.”
Angel’s laugh comes from his stomach. It’s hearty and genuine and echoes through the near-empty library. “I’ll buy that.”
I meet Angel’s eyes. “I get that Ezra’s not very popular. But we don’t have any history. I’m giving him the benefit.”
“I like that about you. Maybe he does too. Just be careful, okay? Ezra is what he is, whether you have history or not.”
I nod. Ezra is what he is. But then I’m not sure who that is yet.
“So, what are you doing here?” I ask.
“I told Torrance I’d pick him up a Tony Hillerman novel. One of the perks of being La Luna’s finest—you get dibs on library books.” He cracks a broad smile and tips his hat. “I’ve got to go, Ruby. But I’ll call you tonight.”
Watching Angel walk out of the library, I think about how my yes sort of tumbled out without my permission. Hanging out with a group of friends is one thing, spending the whole evening alone with Angel is another. I like him a lot. And I’m not sure yet if that’s a good thing.
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