“Hey, Mom,” I answer.
“I just wanted to check on you and let you know I’m already in Austin. I thought I would be back Sunday evening, but I won’t be there until Monday.”
Mom’s company constantly sends her out every few weeks to do training sessions for the newbies at her job. I’m not exactly sure what she does. Something with HR and blah blah blah.
“That’s fine. I’ll be here at Dad’s Sunday night anyway.”
“I talked to your dad, and he told me you know you’re grounded.”
The thing I chose to be grounded from was watching TV. Playing video games is technically not watching TV.
“I know,” I say.
“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you, baby.”
“Love you, Mom.”
As soon as I hang up, my phone beeps. I let out a sigh and look at who it is.
Barnabas: Ready?
The phone time reads eight-thirty.
Me: I suppose. Be right there.
I lean forward to turn off the game, grab a solid black hat, and slide it on backward. Maybe it’ll help me blend in with the night. Opening my bedroom door, I head out.
“Where do you think you’re going all dressed up?” Dom asks when I walk into the living room and grab my keys.
“Is that a serious question?” I look down at myself with the same jeans from school. But I threw on a sweatshirt that’s baggy and falls off the shoulder, looking very eighties.
Dom sings, “What a feeling…”
I hold up a hand. “Okay, you should probably stop.”
“Flashdance.” He grins, bald head shining under the light.
“Exactly my point.” Terrible movie.
“You have zero taste in movies.”
“That’s because I don’t watch dance movies.”
“Dirty Dancing is a good one,” Dad calls from the couch.
“Okay, I’m going to leave now before you start talking about Save the Last Dance next.” I shake my head and walk toward the front door.
“That’s our movie tonight now, Alex,” Dom yells at my dad. Next thing I know they will bring up Saturday Night Fever or Step Up—there’s no judging from them when it comes to dance movies.
I grab the door handle. “Anyway, I’m going out with Barnabas. I’ll be back before curfew.”
“Where are you going?” Dad asks.
“Piggy Palooza kickoff party.” I grimace, already thinking of how lame it will be.
“I know what they do at those parties, and you better not drink and drive,” Dad says.
“I’m probably going to be there for five minutes and leave, just trying to satisfy Barnabas’s desire to go.”
“If you need us, call. No matter what, okay?” Dom says, walking over to give me a quick hug.
“Will do.”
Barnabas is already at the bottom of the stairs when I exit the apartment.
“Your mom’s actually letting you go to the party?” I ask when I hit the last step.
“Are you kidding me? I said I was coming over to hang out with you, which I am. But now we’re leaving.” He shoots me a wink, and I roll my eyes.
He has on combat boots, tight jeans, a v-neck t-shirt, and a fitted blazer—all black. I guess he’s ready for this party.
“You want me to drive? Don’t want your mom to notice your car gone.” I point at my Fiesta when we make it to the parking lot.
“Please do. She would have a cow if she found it gone. Actually, two cows.” He holds up two fingers.
After driving for maybe twenty minutes, we reach the train graveyard. It’s already dark, but through the trees I can see lanterns and flashlights, and hear music, and I’m thinking maybe we should just go home.
“Do we really have to go in?” The whole high school group party stuff isn’t really my scene.
“Yes. These are the years where we have all the fun.” Barnabas motions me forward.
So, five minutes later we’re standing at the edge of the crowd and watching everyone. “Is this what you were calling fun, Barnabas?”
“Yes.” He gives a half-smile.
“Okay, I can watch people anywhere else.”
“Not like this.” He points at a guy to my right, throwing up against a tree. I guess he’s right.
When the guy is done puking, I look around and see the three abandoned trains. People are sitting in the train cars, or leaned up against them. There are people inside the small abandoned station, and a bonfire is blazing in the middle of the grass. I’m more fearful that it’s going to trigger a wildfire by how quickly it’s growing. But what can I do, blow it out?
“Hey guys!” A perky voice comes from behind us, and an arm slams down on my shoulder, another one wraps around Barnabas.
I turn around to see Sophie, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a tight shirt and tight skirt with a pair of Converse. Those shoes are new—she looks cute.
“Hey, Sophie, should have guessed you would show up in our bubble.” Barnabas grins.
I furrow my brows at him, and he shrugs his shoulders.
“You guys want a drink? I’m going to go and grab me one.” Sophie tips her chin in the direction of the keg and ice chests.
“No thanks. I’m driving,” I say, not that I’m a drinker anyway.
“Barnabas?”
“Not until I get past All-State. But if you see a soda, I’ll take one. I’m feeling slightly parched.” He rubs at his throat like we’re in the desert.
I let out a snort, and Sophie skips off.
“So, I guess we’re both cool with Sophie now?” I ask.
He shrugs his shoulders again. “Yeah, she’s not so bad in an annoying kind of way.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Oh, but it does.”
“Train car?” I ask and take a step forward.
Barnabas slides a lock of dark hair behind his ear. “Yeah, let’s change this scenery up.”
We walk over to one of the old trains that’s in a dilapidated state. I don’t know how it has survived as long as it has without disintegrating into the ground. Most of the green paint has peeled off or appears faded.
When we reach the first car, I hear sounds radiating inside from a couple that I don’t want to listen to, so I turn around and walk past a few more cars before stopping.
We stroll up, plopping down on the edge of the car, and I hear a shuffling sound from inside. Maybe this place is haunted like they say. A small whimper comes from the back, and Barnabas and I turn around at the same time.
Barnabas whips out his cell and shines the phone flashlight around. I notice the mostly ripped-up red carpet that has left metal flooring behind. There are a few rows of tan seats that are now covered in blackened dirt—most of the seats seem to be missing. I’m about to get up and leave, so this person can figure things out on their own before it gets too awkward, but Barnabas’s light lands on the victim.
It’s the little Jimenez, Vienna, with a tear-streaked face. I’ve never been one to rush and help someone deal with their emotions, so I kind of stand there stiff-like, unsure of what to do.
“Turn that shit off,” Vienna slurs as she backs herself farther against the car wall.
“You all right?” Barnabas asks.
“You all right?” I echo, scratching the side of my head, because obviously she’s drunk out of her mind.
“Does it look like I’m all right?” she sobs.
“Did our night just turn into a Lifetime movie?” I whisper to Barnabas.
He does a mime-zipping-the-lips movement across his mouth at me, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Is there anything we can do?” Barnabas takes a slow step closer to Vienna like he’s trying not to rile her up.
“Yeah, you can go away.” She moans.
“Okay,” I say, thinking she just needs to sober up, so she can get out of this funky emotional episode she has going on.
Barnabas kneels down in front of her. “So, ho
w much have you had to drink?”
She runs a hand through her straight, black hair. “I don’t know—I lost count.”
“Found you guys. Thank goodness for the spotlight from earlier.” Sophie grunts from behind us as she pulls herself into the train car. Her eyes fall to Vienna. “Oh, hey, I know you. You’re Kiev’s sister.”
“Unfortunately.” Vienna tries to stand and stumbles back down. Barnabas hurries to help her up, and she slaps his hands away. “Don’t touch me.”
“How did you get here?” I ask. If she drove here, there’s no way she can drive home. “Is Kiev with you?” I look around, searching for him.
“No. He probably thinks I’m still in my room. He has more important things to worry about.” She grabs hold of her stomach and moans some more.
“Did you drive here, though?” Barnabas asks.
“Yes, and I think it’s time for me to go home.” She stands up this time and leans heavily against the wall.
“Maybe we should get Kiev. I saw him just get here when I was getting the drinks,” Sophie says.
“No! He’ll probably tell my dad that I drank way too much,” Vienna says.
“I’m going to drive her home,” Barnabas says. “Lia, can you go distract Kiev, and Sophie, can you follow behind with your car?”
“Sure.” Sophie responds before I can say, why can’t Sophie distract Kiev?
“You’re not driving my car,” Vienna mumbles.
“Okay, then let me go tell Kiev to drive it.” Barnabas starts walking.
Vienna pulls him back by his jacket. “Fine.”
Kiev’s probably inside the building by now and wouldn’t even notice the whole situation. This is dumb. Then I look out behind me and see that Kiev isn’t too far away, standing at the bonfire, sipping out of a cup, talking to some guy. Maybe he’s too drunk to notice anything, too.
“Can you hurry, Lia?” Barnabas tosses his head in the direction of outside.
I shoot Barnabas a look, because what are we in a hurry for? But I hop down from the car and tell him to text me after he’s done. Sophie asks me if I want to carry a soda to appear casual, and I shake her off.
Scanning the area, I don’t see Kiev at the bonfire any longer, but finally spot him. He’s walking our way toward the train cars. I glance back over my shoulder, and Sophie is doing a shooing motion to hurry up. Why do I care if Kiev catches his sister shit-faced? That’s not my problem.
I roll my eyes to myself and walk forward until I reach Kiev, halting directly in front of him. He’s wearing jeans and a fitted t-shirt that has William Shakespeare on the front with sunglasses, and it reads: I Put the Lit in Literature. I almost roll my eyes again.
“Hey, Kiev.” I smile, maybe a little too broadly.
“Uh, hey, Lia.”
My heart starts to accelerate because I’ve never been in a position where I have to distract someone. I need to somehow figure out how to spin him around, since he’s facing the train car.
There’s music playing from inside the abandoned train terminal, so I think fast, grab his arm, and try to twist him around. But it’s like his feet are cemented to the grass.
He frowns, his gaze following to where my hand is attached to his bicep. “What are you doing?”
“Let’s go inside and jam to some music.” I do a half fist pump in the air and stay smiling.
“Are you drunk?” He smiles.
My fist pump falls down. “No.”
“Well, I’m supposed to meet Cole out here by the train cars. He’s meeting me after work.” Kiev slides out his phone and looks at it.
“That’s okay, you can shoot him a text.”
“O-kay.”
He lets me spin him around this time, and we take a few steps forward. I glance over my shoulder, and Sophie is on the ground like a soldier. Barnabas leaps off with Vienna in his arms like he’s actually the Crow, but she’s kicking, and then he drops her. My head whips back to the front, but I look over my shoulder again, and Barnabas and Sophie are both supporting Vienna, hobbling away with her arms around their shoulders as she stumbles some more.
My head starts to turn back, but Kiev must have been wondering what I keep looking at, and his head starts to turn. Without thinking, I reach up and grab his cheeks in both of my hands, pulling his face to mine, and I eye him with focus.
He just stares at me for a moment, unable to speak, then he finally does. “What are you doing?” This seems to be the go-to question every time I touch him. His gray eyes angle down to my lips.
Shit. He thinks I’m trying to kiss him, isn’t he? “Oh … I—uh am just checking to see how your nose is doing.” I squint my eyes at his nose, shifting his head softly side to side, and then release his face like it’s sharp glass. “It looks so much better. You’re recovering nicely. Again, sorry about that.” This is so stupid. I turn to the train car, and all three of them are gone.
Kiev looks over his shoulder to the train, and then back at me. “Oh. Yeah, it’s feeling much better. And, I know I said something stupid, but please don’t ever do that again.” He smiles.
“I know. I know. It was like that movie Idle Hands back from the late nineties, except my hand wasn’t trying to be all murderous,” I blurt out.
“Are you sure about that?” He lets out a low chuckle.
I laugh. “Yes!”
“So, you’re into old movies and old games, then?”
I prop my hand on my hip. The sweatshirt slides off my shoulder, and his gaze follows. “How do you know I’m into old games?”
“Please.” He rolls his eyes. “You wear t-shirts with old game characters and that Nintendo hat every day at school.” He taps the bill of my hat at the back of my head and leans over to examine it. “Not tonight, though.”
“No, not tonight,” I find myself smiling. Okay this is getting too weird. I need to find a way to get out of here, before I start laughing unintentionally with my antagonist anymore.
“Where’s your conjoined twin?” he asks.
“What?”
Kiev slides his hand up and down in the empty spot beside me. “Barnabas. Most of the time when I see you in school he’s glued to your side.”
“Oh, uh, he went somewhere with Sophie for a little bit.” That part is true, so not a lie.
He runs a hand across the back of his neck. “I thought maybe you two had something going on.”
“Like boyfriend? Barnabas? He’s like my brother.” Does everyone at school think that?
He nods his head and takes a sip out of his red cup. “You want a drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” After seeing how Vienna was acting, I think I’ll pass.
We walk the short distance to the terminal and just stand there for a minute. “So, you want to go inside, then?” He angles his head toward the door.
Should I? Or should I just go home? Monica gives me the answer I need when she slinks over and wraps her arm around Kiev’s shoulder, nuzzling her face against his ear and neck. “Kiev, I finally found you. I missed you.” Obviously drunk, too.
He stills like he just got caught doing something wrong. I guess maybe him and Monica are already hooking up—none of my business.
“I better go,” I say, feeling disappointed for some reason. Turning around, I walk off and don’t look back.
Chapter Thirteen
Kiev + Party
Monica’s alcohol-flavored breath enters my lungs as she asks, “Have you missed me?” She squeezes my shoulder.
I don’t know what to say to that—she’s already too drunk. I regret calling her to meet me here. Besides, I promised Cole I’d get him a date with Monica. And now stupid Cole isn’t even here. “I’m waiting for Cole,” I say and turn my attention to Lia, who’s walking toward the trees in the back.
“Cole?” Monica’s alcoholic stench assaults my nose again.
Stopping, Lia pulls up her blouse to cover her shoulder, then keeps going.
I shrug Monica off. “I’ll be right back
.”
Lia disappears through the trees. I stride in her direction, passing a lot of guys and girls sitting by the warmth of the bonfire. Soon, I enter the tree area, but it’s dark and there’s no sign of Lia.
Sighing, I stop and touch my cheek, bringing back the moment when Lia cupped my face and squinted at me. The warmth of her hands and her brown eyes made me feel strange and weird. No. I shouldn’t be thinking about her this way. I shake my head, but with the movement, my nose throbs a bit, a reminder of her punch.
When I exit the tree area, Monica is waiting for me with her hands on her hips.
“Where’d you go?” she asks.
If I tell her I was searching for Lia, she may get upset. I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “I was looking for Cole.”
She lifts a brow. “You two have a date or something?”
“No.” You two have a date, I think. She just doesn’t know it. I pull out my phone. “I’m texting him… No. I better call him.”
Monica folds her arms across her chest.
“It’ll take a minute.” I unlock my phone and call him. As his phone rings, I notice how different Monica and Lia are. While Monica wears tight jeans, tighter shirts, and heavy makeup, Lia usually has on comfy jeans, comfier t-shirts, and zero makeup.
Cole answers, “To what do I owe the honor of the call, Mr. Kiev Jimenez?”
“Where are you, dude?” I ask, annoyed.
“I’m riding an Uber because Mr. Corey died on me—funeral’s tomorrow.” He sniffles into the phone.
This is the first time his rusty Corolla refused to start. “How far are you?”
“Is Miss Monica Serrano with you?”
“Answer my question.”
“Answer my question first.”
I frown at the phone, as if Cole could see me, then peer at Monica, who motions for me to hurry. Forcing a grin, I say into the phone, “She’s here. How far are you?”
“According to my calculations, I’ll arrive in three.”
“In three minutes?” I ask Cole.
“Two.”
“Two minutes?”
“One.”
I take a breath. “You’re confusing me, dude.”
“Zero. I’m here. Where should I meet the mother of my future offspring?”
Bacon Pie Page 10
