Mik scooped Alianna’s basketball off the end of the driveway and threw it at Tyler’s head. Zach’s brother never saw it coming. It nailed him so hard that Tyler bit into that stupid, grin, nearly falling over.
Zach rushed with joy.
“What the…” Tyler yelled. He’d bitten his tongue, and his words were a mess. He dared a glare at Mik, but then backed away and into the house.
Zach was practically sending out rays of sunshine as he slapped hands with Mik. “I knew I liked you! I knew it! Oh man, I’m going to wish I had that on video for the rest of my life.”
Mik’s smile was a little sheepish from the attention.
“That really was priceless,” Bishop admitted.
Zach turned back to Natalie, finding her gripping onto Bishop’s arm, her face white.
“Hey, you okay?” Zach asked. She nodded, and Zach kissed her, still dancing inside from the sight of Tyler’s embarrassment. “Of course you’re okay. You look adorable. Like you’re going on a mission trip to build houses in Chile.”
“Hey,” Jaycee said. “Those are my clothes.”
Bishop cocked his head at the girls. “What happened here? Jaycee, you look…hot. I’m not coming on to you. It’s an observation,” he added in Mik’s direction.
Mik didn’t seem to notice. He still looked pretty keyed up from dealing with Tyler, and Zach didn’t blame him; he always felt that way around his big brother.
“Let’s go,” Natalie said. “Bishop, you’re driving.” She got in the passenger side and slammed the door.
A half hour later, on the long, black stretch of Route 33, Zach was still unpacking the rapid-fire events that happened in his driveway. Why was his brother so determined to embarrass him these days? It was like Tyler was extra bored this summer, and what was going on with Natalie? She never passed up an opportunity to insult Tyler with confusingly large words.
Zach had more current problems as well. He was stuck in the backseat beside hostile hottie Jaycee with Mik on the far end. To top it off, Bishop and Natalie were having some sort of existential, drag-out argument in the front.
“A civilized society shouldn’t allow its citizens to have guns,” Natalie snapped. “It’s common sense.”
“Depends on your definition of civilization,” Bishop threw back. “Is a civilization defined by a self-sustaining society? Because our society has developed weapons powerful enough to destroy the world thirty times over, which is hardly civilized.”
“So you’re saying we should have guns because we’re not civilized?” Natalie snapped back. The stabbing tones in their discussion reminded Zach of his parents and made him want to change the subject. He had to think of something, and to his luck, something came driving along on the other side of the highway.
“Padiddle!” Zach crowed.
Natalie took off her shirt without a word—really Jaycee’s shirt—and kept debating.
“You have to take off your shirt,” Zach said to Jaycee. “Those are the rules.”
“The rules of what?” she asked, looking at him like she might have a concealed knife and was thinking about using it.
“Strip padiddle.” Zach pointed to the other side of the highway where the line of headlights stretched east for a few miles. “Boys versus girls. One headlight out, you hit the ceiling, call ‘padiddle,’ and the boys have to take off some clothes. One headlight out on a semi, you say ‘big ass padiddle,’ and the boys have to get naked. If you accidentally call a padiddle for a motorcycle, you have to get naked. The driver is exempt. And all the same rules apply if a boy calls the padiddle on the girls like I just did. Got it?”
“I think I’d rather discuss civilization,” Jaycee said. Mik chuckled, and she glanced at him like she’d forgotten he was on the other side of her. Man, if that girl really wanted to hook up with him, she’d have to stop treating him like an alien.
“Natalie,” Jaycee called up. “I’m not taking my clothes off for your boyfriend.”
Natalie looked back, and her eyes definitely flicked to Mik before she narrowed her sights on Jaycee. “Zach’s right. Those are the rules in the Bonemobile.”
“The what-mobile?”
“Bonemobile,” Zach said. “I named it.”
“You don’t say.” Jaycee got another small laugh from Mik, which seemed to make her smile against her will.
“It’s like this,” Zach said. “Oldsmobile. Bonemobile. Because it’s the color of bone, and because Natalie and I…”
“All right,” Natalie and Jaycee said at the same time. Natalie continued. “It’s a regular teenage thing, Jaycee. The stuff you always miss out on.” Then she threw down the hammer. “Just think of it as a dare, and you won’t have a problem.”
Jaycee took off her shirt with an angry flourish that was pretty hot. “This is so much worse than the Tabasco,” she muttered. “Although the heartburn is similar.”
Zach leaned back to give her a once-over with his peripheral vision, but Mik was fast with a warning look that said, Think about it and I’ll bounce a basketball off your face.
Zach sighed, ready for them to get there already. But before that could happen, Jaycee hit the ceiling and yelled, “Big ass padiddle!”
“No way. Those are so rare! Illegal! Nonexistent!” Zach yelled. But there it was. A big fat semi with one headlight out.
Zach stripped and tossed his shirt up to Natalie, but she didn’t even complain. Mik stripped too. Jaycee suddenly leaned all the way against the bench seat in front as though she was determined not to look at the boys even though their clothes were piled strategically on their laps. Which really took the fun out of it.
They pulled up in the Tim Horton’s parking lot on High Street. The Gates of Hell were apparently hidden in the wooded ravine behind it, and yet Zach felt damp with disappointment. How could things change without changing? He wasn’t in high school anymore, but he was still hanging out with the same people, still playing dare games and drinking secret booze in his basement. Only it felt weird all of a sudden. Slightly dated.
Bishop and Natalie weren’t the same, of course, but even Zach was changing against his will. He wasn’t ready to be done with the mindless thrill of strip padiddle or making out with Natalie in the backseat or besting Bishop at Mario Kart for three hours straight. Was all their forced maturity rubbing off on him? Was he going to end up debating politics in a coffee shop?
Those bastards…
Zach was the first one out of the Bonemobile, pulling on his clothes as he skipped through the edge of the trees. A party was happening inside the football field–sized cement drainage ditch. Dozens of teenagers were drinking, listening to music, and skateboarding. A bonfire burned in an old metal trash can.
“My people!” Zach ran down the slope and into the crowd to make some new friends.
Chapter 25
Natalie
Everything was going according to plan. Mik was here, Jaycee was in girl clothes, Bishop was already looking for a place to make his graffiti art, and Zach? Zach had made friends with a pack of Columbus boys, chugging some sort of pink vodka drink out of a gallon jug.
She’d worry about that later.
First she had to find out what happened between Mik and Tyler on the driveway. Mik was pulling his shirt back on, so she tried to get close without being too obvious. Before she could say anything, he thrust a scrap of paper in her hand and took off. She jammed it in her back pocket, but she wasn’t fast enough. When Natalie looked up, Jaycee was scowling from where she was seated on the cement edge, hugging that Mead notebook.
Natalie sat next to her. “Was it such a party when Jake was here?”
“No,” Jaycee snapped. “It’s supposed to be abandoned. I can’t picture Jake here. And I’ll never find his marker with all these idiots around.”
Natalie wasn’t going to get anywhere with this line of ques
tioning. She switched gears. “So what do you think about Mik?”
“What do I think about Mik passing notes with you?”
Natalie’s cheeks went hot. “No. That’s not what I meant. That’s about…nothing.”
“How do you know that, Natalie?” Jaycee asked. “You haven’t read it yet. Does this have anything to do with you ending up half-naked over his shoulder two weeks ago?”
Natalie fought for a comeback. “No. No, I was asking about Mik being shirtless. Just now. When we all got out of the car and the boys were getting dressed. What did you think of Mik’s chest?”
Jaycee looked down fast. “I didn’t look. That’s pervy.”
“Seriously? You missed it?”
“I don’t oversexualize men physically in the good faith that they don’t do that to me.” Jaycee stared at the journal. “Speaking of, if your boyfriend ogles my boobs one more time, I’m going to hand him his balls in a Ziploc bag.”
“While I appreciate your moral standard, you are hopeless. And just for the Zach threat, I’m not going to tell you what I saw on Mik’s naked chest.”
Natalie had her now. Jaycee glanced down at where Mik was investigating the massive, wedge-styled gates that surrounded the huge open drain that the place was named for.
When Jaycee noticed that Natalie was watching her, she dug into her bag and placed the skateboard next to her, her fingers running over the stickers and the stencil of Jake’s name.
“I remember the Christmas when Jake got that board,” Natalie said. “You slept over that night. We were so excited because we didn’t have to do traditional family holiday stuff.”
Jaycee was suddenly pleased. “I remember this one. I slept over because my parents had to take Jake to the hospital after he tried to skateboard on some black ice and broke his arm.” Jaycee paused, her eyes glassy. “My mom hated this board. She said he’d break his neck.” Her voice was so eerily smooth. “Isn’t that funny?”
“I’m not laughing,” Natalie managed.
Jaycee bent over the journal as Mik appeared, hovering in the vicinity while still giving them space. Natalie had to hand it to him; he knew how to orbit Jaycee without ticking her off. He rocked the skateboard with his foot as gently as Jaycee had rested it on the cement.
Natalie glanced at Jake’s notebook. “How can you read that? Looks like gibberish.”
Jaycee turned a page. “He was left-handed, ADHD, and more than a little dyslexic. Give him a break.”
“Oh, that makes sense,” Natalie said, crossing her legs and checking on Zach, who was laughing super hard at something one of the Columbus guys had said. “Kids with learning disabilities often act out because of their frustration.”
Mik touched the skateboard with his foot again.
“Mik wants to use the board,” Natalie said.
Jaycee shoved the skateboard toward Mik, and a moment later, he was trench coat–free, sailing down the cement with ease. Jaycee watched him before turning to Natalie. “So you speak for Mik now?”
“He was being obvious. And you’re being obviously weird with him. Why?”
Jaycee folded the journal. “Was Mik the guy you hooked up with when you drunk?”
Natalie ground her teeth. “I already told you no.”
“I don’t believe you. And you really wanted me to tell him to come with us. And you were acting weird on Zach’s driveway. Plus you’re passing notes. He barely even texts me.”
Natalie took a long time to find the right explanation. Pointing out Jaycee’s subtle jealousy wasn’t going to go well, although that’s what she really wanted to do. “Would I be trying to get you two together if I had hooked up with him?”
“I don’t honestly know. Would you?” Jaycee was looking entirely too smug by the light of the trash can fire. “What did you tell me about Mik? I have to tell him how I feel. No playing games. So how about you practice what you preach. What do you want from me, Nat?”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not a bug.”
“Did you hear a g?”
“It’s silent.”
“Like the worst kind of bugs.”
Natalie almost laughed. So did Jaycee. The exchange was entirely too reminiscent of their childhood bantering. After a quiet moment, Natalie managed, “I want to be friends again.”
“Why?”
Natalie didn’t have an answer. Not one she could give Jaycee anyway. I feel profoundly guilty? I’ve never found another person I can be myself with? Or how about, I think I’m cracking up and you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel strong?
All pathetic reasons. They probably weren’t even true.
Who is Natalie? What is she capable of?
“I don’t know who I am,” she murmured.
“You’re Zach’s girlfriend,” Jaycee said, turning a page. “You’re your mother’s puppet.” She turned another page. “You’re a Cornell freshman.” She shut the book. “You’re my ex-best friend.”
Natalie stared at her, aghast. “You’ve rotted, Jayce. I’ve no idea what he sees in you.”
Jaycee had the decency to look stricken. She glanced at the far side of the drainage plane where Mik held the edge of the skateboard. He dropped onto it, looping into the bowl with a twisting turn that took him out of sight around another group of skaters.
“Mik’s good. He’s showing off for you.”
“He should be good after the endless years he and Jake spent glued to those boards.”
“So you’re still angry that Jake wouldn’t let you join in, huh?” Natalie said.
Jaycee ignored her, wiping her hand across her face before pointing at the notebook. “What I want to know is why Mik and Jake weren’t friends in high school. Why didn’t Mik do all this stuff with him? He’s not in here at all. And all of his other buddies are. Even Zach’s disgusting brother is in here.”
Natalie was so thrown off by the mention of Tyler that she didn’t realize that Jaycee was waiting for her to answer. “You think I know why they weren’t friends in high school?”
“I think you know about ditching your childhood best friend for shiny, new friends.”
“You know it wasn’t like that with us.” Natalie stood up, and it only sort of slowed her down to see that Jaycee had very silent tears working their way down her cheeks. “I was scared of you. How about that? You were frightening when you were upset. Remember the afternoon after the funeral when you told me you wanted to drink gasoline and then you threw Jake’s hatchet at the wall over and over?”
“That’s not exactly what happened.” Jaycee tightened her ponytail with a yank.
“Tell me flat out if you’re never going to forgive me. I’d rather not waste my time.”
Jaycee shoved the journal in her bag and stood up. She was taller than Natalie, and when she stared down in Natalie’s face, Natalie felt like a shrimp. “Hmmm, will I forgive you for running away when I needed you the most? Let me think on that, Nat.”
Mik skated up and jumped off the board. His arm shot out between them like a safety bar.
Jaycee grabbed the skateboard out of his other hand and set it down. “Watch my bag.” Before Natalie could stop her, Jaycee sent herself flying over the edge.
Natalie sat down so hard that she nailed her tailbone, but the pain that spiked up her spine was nothing compared to deeper hurts. “This is Sisyphean.” Mik sat beside her. “She doesn’t want to forgive me. She likes being mad, the old coward.”
Natalie gathered her own courage slowly and took Mik’s note out of her back pocket. She held it up to the bonfire light.
Tyler said he had sex with you. He could be lying.
“Thanks for trying,” she said hollowly. The words etched themselves in her mind until all she could see was the word sex in bold, crimson font. “Wait, did you ask him? Like you talked to him?”
Mik rubbed the back of his neck, which felt like a confirmation.
“Well, it was sweet of you.” She crumpled the piece of paper and shoved it back into her—really Jaycee’s—baggy jeans. “I guess I have to get used to not knowing.”
Fuck. What would she say to Bishop? Would he still make her tell Zach if she didn’t even know what happened?
Mik and Natalie watched Jaycee roll up the other side of the drainage ditch, turning jerkily and heading back down. It was nothing like the poetry Mik had wielded when he’d flashed around on the skateboard.
“She’s going to wipe out,” Natalie warned before putting her hands over her face. Zach’s girlfriend…her mom’s puppet? This is what Jaycee thought of her, and Jaycee didn’t even know the whole truth about why they were no longer friends. If she did know…
“I can’t tell him,” she said suddenly. “I can’t tell Zach. I’ll have to make Bishop understand. This can only hurt people. We have to pretend like it never happened.” Mik shook his head slowly. “I know what I’m doing,” she lied. “I’ve been down this road before.”
At least that part was true.
Chapter 26
Mikivikious
Chapter 27
Zach
Zach’s new bud was Darren. Darren had made the pink vodka drink that was currently turning Zach’s stomach into a fire dance.
Zach was planning on ignoring everyone he’d come with for the rest of the night, and the booze made this seem like a brilliant idea. He could ignore them like they were so good at ignoring him. But then, he couldn’t ignore Jaycee standing there, screaming in the middle of the party.
“What the hell’s her problem?” Darren asked.
“Everything,” Zach said.
“She should quit screaming. The cops don’t really like us down here. If we give them a reason, they flash their search lights and make everyone scatter.”
“Hold on. I’ll get her.” Zach quick-stepped through the crowd, wondering where Natalie and Mik were. Weren’t they supposed to babysit loco Jaycee? “Hey!” he yelled, grabbing her arms. “What’s going on?”
You Were Here Page 13
