by Natasha Deen
Ella sniffs. “He dropped me at my dad’s. Then Dad and I hung out for a bit. We went for a drive in the country. He showed me this old cabin that’s been in his family for years. When I was really small, we used to go there for long weekends. Anyway, Dad said I could stay there for a bit.”
“But you didn’t have any clothes or food,” says Mom.
“There was a small strip mall in the town. Dad bought everything I needed. When I got back to the cabin, I tried to text Mom, but there was no reception. Dad said he’d let Mom know.” She starts crying again. “Dad came by a couple of times that week. He said he’d had this long talk with Mom, and she was cool about giving me some space. Then he said it was good that I was having a hard time because it had forced them to talk. I believed him, and I thought maybe he was right. Even though things were tough, maybe it was good if it meant having both my parents in my life.”
Mom hands her a tissue.
“Thanks,” she says. “It’s such a mess. Dad knew about the investigation and didn’t come forward to me or the cops. He just wanted to get back at my mom. I think the cops are going to charge him with obstruction or misleading a police investigation or something.”
Her words make me think of my dad. Ayo said my dad wouldn’t do anything that risked his job or his family, but now he’s done both. He kept information from the cops, which might mean a fine, prison time—even his job. And he cheated on my mom. Now Mom wants a divorce.
Then there’s me. I kept information from Detective Tyron too. I’m not sure what that will mean. Will I be charged for obstruction? Have I blown my chance for a career in law enforcement?
Ella touches my hand, and it brings my focus back to the table.
“I wanted some space, that’s all,” she says. “A quiet place to think, and I thought I had it. And I thought my dad had changed, but he’s as bad as my mom said. She’s mad and disappointed, and I don’t know what happens from here.”
“It will take time,” says Mom. “But you and Loni will get through this. I promise. I’m glad you’re safe. I’m just so glad you’re safe.”
Ella squeezes my fingers. “Zack, I’m so sorry about all of this. The cops and my mom said you were trying to help, and I feel terrible. I didn’t know about any of it until Detective Tyron showed up at the cabin.” She rises from the chair. “I have to go. I promised my mom I wouldn’t stay long. We have a lot to talk about.” She looks at me. “But we should catch up soon, okay?”
I nod. I’m glad she’s okay. But now that I know she’s safe, I’m thinking about how she didn’t tell me she was seeing her dad or about her ex-boyfriend. I’m still kind of mad she iced me out instead of talking to me or at least saying she needed some space. “Maybe in a couple of days. I need some time to think.”
“Yeah, I get that.” She smiles, but there are tears in her eyes. “I really am sorry, Zack. It was stupid to cut you off like that.”
I don’t want to say, It’s fine, because it’s not. Plus, it would be a lie, and I’ve had enough of people lying. I walk her to the door, and then I text Ayo and give him the whole story.
How do you feel?
Everything’s a mess. I just want to run away from it all. Think Ella will tell me where the cabin is?
Not a good idea. There’s no reception, right? How are you going to get your crime shows?
I’ve had enough of crime.
How about you buy me that burger you owe me instead?
“Mom, I’m going out with Ayo, okay?”
“You sure you don’t want to stay home, maybe talk?” She comes up to me. “We have a lot to discuss.”
“I know, but right now I need some space. We’re going to grab some grub from Al’s.”
“Okay.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “Take the car. And bring me home a milkshake.”
“Deal.”
“And we need butter.”
“Double deal.” I grab her keys and head out the door.
Acknowledgments
As always, my gratitude goes out to the fabulous team at Orca for all their hard work on the covers and formatting, and a special thanks to Tanya Trafford for all of her efforts on Zack’s story.
Natasha Deen is the author of several books for young people, including the Orca titles Terminate and Across the Floor. She lives in Edmonton, Alberta. For more information, visit natashadeen.com.
THE FOLLOWING IS AN EXCERPT FROM ANOTHER EXCITING ORCA SOUNDINGS NOVEL BY NATASHA DEEN
978-1-4598-1120-1 PB
Javvan can’t get a job because of his criminal record. When he finally does find work, he somehow lands in more trouble than before and is desperate to find a way out.
“Fast-paced.” “Powerful.”
—Booklist —Kirkus Reviews
Chapter One
I see my chances for a new life die in the eyes of the interviewer. It’s always in their eyes. They go flat, lifeless. And it always happens toward the end of the interview. Doesn’t matter that I have work experience or that I’m willing to do any job and put in long hours. Doesn’t matter that I’m a good student and on the track team. They ask that fateful question, and I have to answer honestly.
That’s when their eyes go dead. It’s all, “Thank you, Mr. Malhotra. We’ll call you.”
They never do.
This interview’s no different. Bike-courier job. After-school hours, weekend gigs. I could work around my mom’s schedule, make sure there’s always someone to take my little brother, Sammy, to his after-school stuff. I’d told all of this to the interviewer. She’d smiled, called me a good son.
Not always, but I don’t tell her that.
Then she’d laughed, said the job was mine.
Just as I am breathing the tightness out of my chest, she says, “Oh, shoot. Last question.” She rolls her eyes, as though it is an annoyance to have to ask me. “Have you ever been arrested for theft?”
“Yes.”
The smile holds—she thinks I’m joking. When I don’t say, “Gotcha,” realization kicks in.
End of smiles. End of her thinking I’m a good son.
“What were you arrested for?”
“I stole a car.”
“And you were convicted.”
“Yes.” I want to tell her more, but it’s complicated to explain. Plus, it would make me look like I’m trying too hard to minimize what I’ve done.
She gives me a look like I just farted. “Thank you, Mr. Malhotra. We’ll call you.”
“No. Please. I made a mistake,” I told her. “Got caught up with a dumb moment—” Stupid. Now I just look like I’m trivializing my choices. “It was a bad decision, and I regret it.”
She’s standing, ready to shove me out the door. Glancing around like my presence is dirtying her white furniture, white walls, white suit.
“Please. Mrs. O’Toole. Give me a chance.” I stay seated, unwilling to budge. This is my twenty-second interview. My twenty-second rejection. If I could go back in time and not steal that stupid Lexus, I would. One idiot moment. One stupid choice, and my life’s been screwed ever since.
Mrs. O’Toole sighs. Takes off her red glasses and rubs her eyes. “It’s not me,” she says. “It’s our clients. There are sensitive documents that get shipped. We can’t take the risk.”
“But I didn’t steal any files—it was a car—”
“Javvan.”
I stop. Use of my first name means it’s a for-sure no.
“I have a ton of kids who want this job.” She gives me a pointed look. “A ton of kids who didn’t steal and didn’t get convicted.”
Two more years, and my youth record gets wiped. It may as well be twenty years. This thing will never stop following me.
“I have another interview.” Her expression is full of pity. “I’m sorry. Good luck—I’m sure someone else will hire you.”
“Yeah,” I mumble as I stand and head for the door. “That’s what the last guy said.”
orca soundings
For more
information on all the books in the Orca Soundings series, please visit
orcabook.com.