by Seven Steps
I shook my head. “Nothing. Why?”
“You’ve been weird ever since you spoke to that Becks guy this morning.”
Rose looked up from her phone. She’d been sitting quietly in the back seat, her head bent, her thumbs flying over the phone screen. She was probably typing up another blind item for the school newspaper. Rose was in charge of announcements, blind items, and the congratulations section of the paper, but her dream was to write an actual article about something that mattered. I was sure it would happen one day.
“Ooh. Who’s the Becks dude? A new crush?”
Calla spoke up before I could. “Her former best friend who’s now back in town.”
I scowled at her.
I’d never told Rose that I saw her and Becks exchanging numbers at Aunt Gina’s wedding. I never told her he’d chosen her over me, even if we didn’t recognize each other. News like that would crush Rose and I didn’t want her to go through that. Besides, I’d already forgiven her for it.
Becks, however, was a different story. The fact he’d asked for her number the second I left his sight was unforgivable.
“Former best friend?” It took exactly two seconds before understanding dawned in Rose’s eyes, and a gasp left her lips.
“No! You saw Beckett?”
I sighed. I guess the cat was out of the bag now.
“Becks,” I said, my voice dripping with defeat. “He goes by Becks now.”
“Lily. That’s incredible. You two were so close. Did he recognize you?”
I wish he didn’t. It would’ve made things easier. “Yeah.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what did he say? Come on, spill!”
That’s what made this whole thing so sad. “We didn’t say much of anything. It’s like… I don’t know… I guess we’re just different people now,” I said. “We both grew up.”
Rose frowned. “Different people? What does that mean?”
I wanted this conversation to end. Right now, Old Lily was a broken in, fuzzy pair of pajama pants that I was desperate to slip on. Old Lily would clam up, change the subject, then cry about how unfair the world was in the privacy of her room. It would be easy. Comfortable. Doing the opposite of those things felt like running a marathon.
I opened my mouth, fully prepared to bring Old Lily out to play, when the car lurched forward.
My body shot toward the steering wheel. My seatbelt let out a zipping sound, then locked in place. My arms flailed in the air, like I was mid drop on a roller coaster.
Someone screamed. Then, a horn blared from behind us.
I grabbed the wheel, trying to straighten the car again. It was heavier now. Nearly impossible to turn. Panic gripped me, adrenaline focused me, and I somehow managed to maneuver the car to the side of the road, despite the stiffness of the wheel and my racing heart.
What just happened?
“Is everyone okay?” I asked.
Rose and Calla grunted that they were, their faces bleached and pale.
“Lily, how could you miss that ginormous pot hole in the middle of the street?” Rose demanded. “It was as big as a football field!”
“I, I, I…”
“You could have killed us! I swear, sometimes you have to get out of your own head and focus on what’s in front of you.”
Her words were like a knife to my heart, and I swallowed as she shoved open the back door and walked to the front of the car.
I felt awful. I hadn’t seen the pot hole because I wasn’t paying attention. What if someone had gotten seriously injured because of my negligence? I swallowed again, this time fighting back my own guilt and tears as I turned to Calla.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she whispered, slightly dazed. “I’m okay.”
“No neck pain, shoulder pain, headache, anything?”
“Lily, I’m fine. Really.”
She tried to force a smile on her face but failed.
I put my hand on her shoulder.
“I’m going to check out the damage, okay?”
She nodded quickly, and I climbed out, needing some air in my lungs.
I couldn’t believe I’d just hit a pot hole going so fast. It’s not like it was hidden. I’d seen and maneuvered around that pot hole nearly every day for the last four months. I knew it was there. But I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts I’d forgotten it. And now I’d wrecked my and Rose’s car.
Couldn’t I touch anything without it breaking into bits?
When Rose saw the damage, she put her hands over her mouth in shock. And if Rose was shocked, then I was sure the damage was bad. Really bad.
I stood beside my sister, gasping at the horrible evidence of my thoughtlessness.
The driver’s side tire was completely flat, the hubcap was gone, and there was a huge dent in the wheel well. It looked like a giant had tried to tear the car apart.
My hands went over my mouth in the same shocked expression Rose wore.
“What are we going to do?” Rose whispered. “How are we going to get to school?”
“Mom and Dad are going to lose it when they see this,” I whispered back.
Calla joined us in the front of the car and put her hand over her heart.
“It’s destroyed.” She turned to Rose and me. “What are you going to do?”
Besides get grounded for the rest of my life?
“We’ll need to call a tow truck,” Rose said. “We can’t drive this home.”
“It looks like no one will be driving this home ever again,” Calla said.
My heart was pounding. My mind raced. My family did okay with their flower shop, but we definitely weren’t rich. My parents couldn’t just up and get me and Rose a new car. Damage like this was going to cost a fortune. They were going to kill me, bring me back to life, then force me to ride my bike to school for the rest of the school year!
“Lily,” Rose said, jolting me from my thoughts. “You call Mom and Dad. I’ll call the tow truck.”
“What? Why do I have to call Mom and Dad?”
“Because you were driving.”
“But it’s only half my car. Why can’t you call them?”
“Lil, really?”
I sucked in a breath. My day was already in the toilet. I didn’t need this right now.
Calla grabbed my hand. “If they kill you, I’ll bury all your romance novels with you.”
I scowled at her. “Not helping, Calla.”
Somehow, I summed up the courage to pull my phone from my pocket and dial my mom’s cell number. With each ring, my heart beat faster and faster.
What kind of punishment would I get for this? Would they revoke my license? Could parents do that? Would Rose hate me forever for ruining our car? And how were we going to get to school?
Mom picked up on the third ring.
“Hello, Lily Bell,” she sang.
Great. She was in a good mood and it was about to be ruined because of my negligence.
“Hey, Mom.”
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”
I looked at Rose, but she was still on the phone with the insurance for the tow truck. Calla patted my hand twice.
“If they kick you out, you can come live at my house,” she whispered.
I snatched my hand away from her and took in a deep breath.
“Mom, I have to tell you something.”
“What is it, dear?” Her voice was thick and tight with worry. I dreaded my next words but took a deep breath, forcing them from my lips while I still had the nerve to say them.
“I was driving home, and we hit a pot hole. I think we have a flat tire.”
Relief spread through Mom’s voice like butter. “Oh, you had me worried there. From the tone of your voice I thought it was something serious. Do you need Dad to come get you?”
“Mom, that’s not all of it. I mean, it’s not just a flat tire.”
“What do you mean?” Mom’s tension was back
.
“Well, the wheel may have sustained some… damage.”
“Damage? How much damage are you talking about?”
“Um… on a scale of one to ten? Maybe a thirteen?”
“What? George!”
There was a lot of whispering about “his daughters” and “broke their car,” and “don’t get too upset.”
Then my dad got on the phone.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Boss Level.
“Lily?”
“Hi, Dad?”
“Are you and your sister all right?”
I guess I was okay, unless you counted the burning band across my chest where my seatbelt locked up.
“Yeah, Dad. We’re fine.”
“Tell me exactly who was in the car.”
My dad spent most of his twenties in the marines. It meant that he was direct and straightforward. Hard sometimes. Between him and my mom, he was definitely the “bad cop” parent.
“Just me, Rose, and Calla.”
“Is Calla okay?”
“She’s fine too.”
His voice never lost its edge, but I knew he was relieved that we were unhurt. After all, if there was one thing George McAlister loved, it was his family.
“Good. Where are you?”
“Just past Wooden and Judge Street. We were heading back from school—”
“Is the car drivable?”
“No. The tire is flat and, kind of, ripped off.”
He swore under his breath.
“Lily, listen to me very closely. I want you to tell me exactly what happened. Do not leave out a single detail.”
I took in a deep breath, then relayed our harrowing tale.
When I was done, Dad thought a minute before answering. I could almost see him shaking his head.
“Did you call a tow truck?”
“Rose is calling the insurance for one now.”
“Good. Your mother will be there in ten minutes to pick you up. I have a few clients I have to attend to. We’ll discuss this when you get back.”
I knew what “we’ll discuss this” meant. Someone was going to get in trouble. Most likely me.
Great. Leave it to me to ruin my shared car.
I hung up with Dad, and we waited around in the late summer heat for Mom to come pick us up. It was a small town, which meant the tow truck wasn’t too far away. It pulled up at the same time my mom did.
Rainbow McAlister, known to her friends as Beau, wore blue jeans, sandals, and a homemade multicolored tie-dye T-shirt. Her long, frizzy, blond hair hung loose around her shoulders, making her look younger than forty.
She climbed out of the car—an old, yellow, Volkswagen Beetle—and the shock in her eyes was only matched by the relief in them when she realized we were okay.
“Come here, girls.”
Mom opened her arms, and the three of us fell into them.
“I’m so glad you’re all right.” She squeezed us once before letting us go and ushering us into her ancient, yellow car complete with flower stickers on the bumper. When we were settled inside, she spoke briefly to Frank Sanderson, the tow truck driver. Then, she climbed back in the car and we pulled away.
The worst thing about Mom’s car was the lack of air conditioning. She said it helped the environment, but really all it did was give everyone heat stroke in the summer. Rose sat in the front with the windows down while Calla and I were trying not to let our sweaty skin touch each other in the back seat.
“Don’t you worry about a thing, girls,” Mom said. “The second I get home, I’m writing a letter to the city. We’ve been asking them to fix that pot hole for months and now look at the damage it’s caused, not only to your car but to your bodies. Who knows what sort of internal injuries you have? When we get home, I want all of you to take an Epsom salt bath. You too, Calla.”
Calla grimaced. “You mean, all of us at the same time?”
Mom scoffed. “No. Of course not. You know what I mean. I’ll make you all some of my honey healing tea, and we’ll walk through some yoga exercises. Hopefully, we can get you realigned before there’s any permanent damage.”
This was as close as Mom got to sending us to the hospital. I would have complained about it if her honey healing tea wasn’t so delicious.
“I don’t even want to think about the logistical nightmare of getting the three of you to school in the morning. Goodness, this bureaucracy is such a mess. People can’t even drive anymore.”
“Can’t we use your car?” Rose asked, cutting our mom off before she went into her Republicans are ruining the world speech. I couldn’t imagine how she’d managed to marry one twenty years ago.
“My car?” Mom laughed out loud. “No way. We can only afford to fix one car at a time.”
“But, Mom—”
Mom shook her head again.
“Maybe this is the universe telling us to homeschool you two this year. Maybe this is a sign.”
Rose’s face turned beet red. “I can’t homeschool. I have friends, track team, classes, and the newspaper. Plus, I have a date on Friday night.”
“You can still have all those things if you’re homeschooled,” Mom said. “And you wouldn’t have to worry about having a car.”
Rose whipped around in her chair, her sharp eyes trained on me.
“Say something,” she hissed. “You don’t want to be stuck at home all day studying, do you?”
Honestly, it didn’t sound so bad. The only good thing about school was Calla, and, since she lived next door, I could still see her anytime I wanted. The idea was a little unconventional, but most times I liked Mom’s unconventional ideas. Maybe it was because Mom and I had so much in common. We were both homebodies and liked comfortable clothes. Mom had just a few close friends, and she loved to read. It was probably why I was so close to her, while Rose was closer to my dad. Both of them were social butterflies with an inquisitive nature. For Rose, homeschool would be torture. For me, not so much.
Still, I did owe my sister a favor for ruining our car.
“Maybe we should wait on the homeschooling until we talk it over with Dad,” I said finally.
Mom frowned. She knew as well as I did that Dad was 100 percent anti-homeschool. I could practically see the idea flying out of her head as she sighed and turned the car into our driveway, a modest four-bedroom, gray raised ranch. Dad’s truck wasn’t here yet, which meant we had at least a little reprieve before the inquisition began.
Small favors, as they say.
Very small.
We spent the rest of the night fielding Dad’s questions, taking salt baths, doing yoga, and worrying about how we would get to school the next day.
When morning came, Rose and I got dressed and walked down the stairs like we were on death row.
We’d probably have to take the bus to school. It sucked losing our car over a stupid pot hole, but riding the overcrowded, smelly, public bus would be much, much worse.
I poured myself a big bowl of sugary cereal while Rose had buttered toast and peppermint tea.
Mom was already sitting at the table, stringing some shiny beads onto a rope. It looked like the start to another craft project. Mom was the queen of crafts, and today was no different.
“Girls, I have great news.” She tied off the end of the rope so the beads wouldn’t escape and put the necklace down on the table.
Rose’s hopeful gaze met mine, then slid back to Mom.
“Our car is fixed?” she asked.
Mom scoffed. “Honey, that would take a miracle.”
“Good morning, girls,” Dad said. He placed a kiss on each of our foreheads before setting himself down in front of a plate of eggs, toast, and coffee. I’d never seen Dad have anything else for breakfast. Even when we went out to eat, he never ordered pancakes or waffles. It was always eggs, toast, and coffee.
He took a sip from his steaming mug and smiled at Mom.
“Did you tell them the good news?” he asked.
She smi
led back, and I gagged at the warmth that spread between them. For two people who were so different, my parents really did love each other.
“I was just about to, but why don’t you do the honors?”
Dad nodded. “All right, then. We found you girls a ride to school.”
My spoon dropped back into my bowl of cereal, spilling a bit of milk onto the table. Rose’s eyes met mine, then we both looked at my dad.
“Who?” we asked at the same time.
Suddenly, a car horn beeped twice. It sounded close. Like it was coming from the driveway. But who would be beeping at us from the driveway?
“There he is now,” Mom said.
He?
She stood, walked over to the back door, and gave the driver of the car a wave.
“Let’s move it along, girls. Don’t want to be late.”
Rose and I glanced at each other, then followed behind Mom, peeking over her shoulder.
A black SUV purred in the driveway. A bit of mud clung to the tires, probably from the rain last night. The windows were tinted, blocking us from seeing who was in the car.
“Who is it?” I asked, trying to peer through the dark glass.
Mom laughed and waved at the inhabitant of the SUV.
“Hurry up and get your things, girls. It’s rude to keep him waiting.”
He? Who was he?
Rose and I couldn’t hide our confused looks as we marched back through the kitchen to clean up our breakfast dishes.
“What glum faces,” Dad said. “We thought you’d be excited.”
“Excited to ride in a car with a stranger?” I asked.
“Beckett is hardly a stranger,” Dad said. “You two were practically inseparable growing up. Don’t you remember?”
I choked on air.
No. It couldn’t be. My parents could not have done this to me.
Rose thumped me on my back a few times until I could breathe again.
“You asked Beckett Hayes to chauffer us to school?” I asked.
“Of course. He lives up the street. His parents were thrilled when we asked.” Dad leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “They said he’s having a hard time adjusting to life back in Bloom. Being around his two oldest friends should be good for him.”
A bad feeling crept into my belly as I gazed over my mom’s shoulder.
