This is the tunnel at the end of the light, he said. Don’t you mean the light at the end of the tunnel? I asked as we sped away. He laughed. No. I said what I meant. This is the billion-dollar door, babe. You’d never guess, right? Now forget you were ever here.
Of course that meant I would never forget—the crooked trees and sloppy red medical cross slapped in paint on the side of the building, or that Raff could laugh when he was covered in blood.
If I didn’t think about it during the day, I dreamed about it at night.
Like I did tonight, right before I had to get up for school.
Today is the first day of the rest of your life.
I had a social worker who used to say that to me, and it would make me want to squish her cheeks until her words sounded muddled, like a game you play with a baby.
But today it really was.
“Mornin’!”
Cade picked me up at the fork in the road like the school bus and handed me a brown-bag lunch as if we were going on a field trip together.
“I’ll pay you back . . . ,” I said, my voice trailing off as I climbed in beside him.
“Don’t worry. I know. I’ll take you by the diner, end of the week, to apply for a job. I told you, they’ll be looking because their summer help always leaves this time of year.”
“And the school clothes. All of it. I know you can’t afford it,” I said.
“You calling me poor?” Cade kidded.
“I don’t want you to play the hero to the point you’re at a disadvantage.”
“Playing the hero? I thought I was a hero.”
“You’re my hero. Swooning.” I put the back of my hand to my forehead and fanned myself with the other.
“That’s more like it,” Cade said. His grin faded as he gave me a concerned double take. “You look really tired.”
“Thanks.”
“Seriously. Did you sleep last night?”
“No. Not at all.”
“Sophia’s boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I know that was . . . weird,” Cade said. “But it’s Diego. Sophia’s dated him on and off since they were in middle school. He’s a wannabe high roller who’s stuck fixing cars at his daddy’s shop.”
“The thing about my eyes though.”
“It sounded like it was only a warning,” Cade said. “Like, don’t sell him out because he’d remember you.”
“I hope so? Ugh. I hate feeling like this,” I said.
“You’re overthinking it. We both are.” Cade tried to be reassuring.
“Because we’re doing something crazy,” I said.
“It’ll be fine,” Cade said. “Look, if we’re gonna do this, we have to own it, right? You’re my cousin. It’s the first day of school. We got this.”
He reached over and gave my hand a quick squeeze. I felt the urge to reach out and link my fingers with his, but we were pulling up to Mateo and Jojo’s.
Jojo pranced out in the tiny bright orange dress we bought at the mall, ankle-high cowboy boots, and huge hoop earrings. Her mother was two steps behind her, yelling in Spanish.
“It’s not too short!” Jojo struck a pose on the front lawn. She ducked away from her mom, using Mattey as a shield, and jumped into the truck beside me. Mateo yanked the heavy door closed, squeezing into the couple of inches left for him.
He handed me a couple of warm tortillas wrapped in foil. “I know you like these.”
I scrunched up my face in a little thank-you.
“This must be Jane! So nice to finally meet you.” Their mother peeked in. “I’m Mrs. Morales.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I said, matching her wide smile.
“Good luck on your first day. You kids be good. Now see, Jojo, that’s how you dress.” Mrs. Morales gestured to me.
“I picked that out for her, and it’s just as short as mine! Jeez, Ma,” Jojo protested.
Mrs. Morales threw her hands up, exasperated.
“Buh-byeee. Besos!” Jojo blew her kisses while urging Cade to pull out of the driveway.
Mateo gave her an extra wave like the good little only son he was.
“Bye, Mommy, I’ll miss you,” Cade and Jojo mocked him together.
As we rumbled toward school, the breeze from the open windows tangled my hair. Cade’s truck didn’t have working air conditioning. I was going to be a mess by the time we got to school, but I didn’t care. This was what life was supposed to feel like—crammed in a car with friends, laughing, on the way to school. I hoped Cade was right and that Diego was a nobody.
“We’re here!” Jojo announced.
Cade scored a spot right by the front doors of the school. The parking lot was a jumble of junky trucks and beaters, girls hugging and squealing, guys high-fiving. One car stood out, a small red sports car, sparkling in the sun. Leaning on the hood was a curvy blond girl in huge sunglasses, sipping iced tea in a clear travel cup with lemons in it.
“Aaaaah,” she screamed happily as we got closer. “Cade! I missed you so much. Hi, Jojo! Hi, Mattey! Oh . . . who are you?”
CADE
Savannah Maddison gave me the kind of hug that lingers. I pulled myself away to introduce Jane.
“This is my cousin Jane from California. How was France?”
“Ah-mazing! I ate all the bread and cheese in the world. And my mom let me drink wine! So European. Hi, Jane! I’m Savannah. Welcome to Tanner!”
I could see Jane trying to absorb Savannah’s twinkly voice.
Jane smiled back, but her eyes were wary. I watched them flicker over Savannah’s long legs, all south-of-France tan, and then take in the shiny new car. She was going to want to hate her. Everyone, even me, thinks they’re going to hate Savannah—for her house, her money, her dad and his super successful electric supply company, Maddison Electric. But she’s like one of those Disney princesses who makes the flowers bloom, and the birds and animals follow her around. You can’t not like Savannah.
“How’s sweet baby Hunter?” she asked me, clapping her hands together.
“He’s fine,” I answered, exchanging a quick look with Mattey.
“Oh, good!”
“Go deep, Cade!” Gunner ran into me hard from behind, ramming me against Savannah’s car. Fajardo and the twins, Justin and Taylor, were right behind him, pushing each other around, spilling their sodas, and almost trampling Jane and Jojo in the process.
“What the hell, Farty! Watch it!” Jojo yelled at Fajardo.
Poor guy had had that nickname since first grade, when the cafeteria served refried beans at lunch and he had one serving too many.
“Lookin’ good, Jojo.” Taylor tried to hit on her.
“Look somewhere else, Taylor.” Jojo put a hand up in his face while smacking Justin away as he pretended to dance all up on her.
“Um, never. Get away from me, Justin. Jane, meet the football team. Well, some of them anyway. Jocks, this is Jane.”
Gunner had quickly removed himself from the tangle. He wiped his hands on his jeans awkwardly. “Hello, Jane. You must be Cade’s cousin. It is very nice to have you join us.”
His formality sent the guys into hysterics.
“Why, yes, Jane, pleasure to make your acquaintance,” said Justin.
“Sincerely yours, fondly, with deepest regards, Gunner,” Taylor laughed.
“Oh my gosh, leave him alone!” Savannah swooped in with her magic wand. “Let’s go in, so Jane has time to get settled on her first day. Jane, may I take you to meet Principal Jackson?”
I could tell Jane would rather have it be me, but she didn’t know how to disagree.
My friends, their laughter, how Gunner looked at Jane, even the way Savannah gently guided Jane off into the building—it felt like when I let go of the football to throw a touchdown and the crowd cheers. As
it spirals up and away, even though I’m the one who made it happen, the second it leaves my fingers, it’s everyone’s.
JANE
Life was full of normal things, which wasn’t normal to me at all.
But it’s strange how quickly a lie can become routine.
Jane Doherty had a schedule and a locker, teachers and homework, a table to join in the cafeteria. Everyone happily accepted her as the star football player’s cousin from super-cool California. The only person who was wary of Jane Doherty’s existence was me.
At first I started each day on the library computers, scouring the web for news, anything that might tell me about Raff’s old gang and Grande, or Ivan’s and the Wolf Cub. But there was never a headline that breathed danger. After about a month it started to feel like I was searching for information for someone else.
Like he’d promised, Cade helped me get a job at the diner in town, Fancy Nancy’s. I picked up two shifts a week; it’s all they had. I’ll take it, I’d told Nancy . . . for two dollars and thirteen cents an hour. That was the base salary without tips, and I wasn’t wrong to have wondered just how well people in Tanner could tip. Not well.
But it was something. Looking at Cade’s farm, you knew that if he lent you even one dollar, he felt it. And he’d been spotting me all summer. So I tied on that smiley face sunflower apron every Friday night and Saturday morning. Each plate of pancakes I served, every bit of bacon grease I wiped up, I thought of the missing bag. Cade and I had crisscrossed all the same places too many times. I’d practically memorized the trees. Each time we rechecked the storm drain it was the same weeds, old shoe, trash. The dead fish rotted and then dried in the summer heat, only bones left behind.
Maybe it was just time to accept I would never see those stacks of hundred-dollar bills again. Maybe that was okay. Jane Doherty from San Diego would figure it out on her own. Two dollars and thirteen cents at a time.
Was it possible that I had found a hiding place that would hold, I wondered as I headed into the school cafeteria.
Jojo screamed my name and gestured wildly for me to sit with her like she hadn’t just seen me in history class. I filled my drink and put it on my tray, making it tip, but before I could take a second to balance it, someone swept it out of my hands.
“I got it.” Gunner smiled shyly. As usual, his button-down shirt had come untucked on one side, and his hair was sticking up in the front.
As we sat down, Savannah swooped over. She leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I . . . know . . . your . . . secret.”
I froze.
Savannah cocked her head and wagged a finger at me. “Jojo tells me you dance.”
I almost started laughing with relief. I could breathe again.
“No, that’s not true,” I said.
“No, it is,” Jojo interrupted. “The girl can move. We need her.”
“I can’t believe you’ve been holdin’ out on us, Jane! We can schedule a tryout for you.” Savannah slid onto the bench beside me. “Don’t worry, totally a formality. I’m the captain. If I say you’re in, you’re in.”
“Thank you, but I’m all set.”
“Don’t be scared! It’ll be fun.” Savannah was persistent. “If you start now you’ll be ready for the big homecoming game.”
“What else are you going to do after school?” Jojo added, putting her hands out like a scale weighing the options. “Hang out with your crabby uncle on the farm and do homework. Hang out with your amazing new friends and dance.”
“My job . . .”
“Totally won’t get in the way.” Jojo wasn’t having it.
Gunner touched my arm. “You’d get to perform at all the football games. You’re basically our cheerleaders.”
I couldn’t help it. I broke out laughing. Me? A cheerleader? Poor Gunner looked so confused by my outburst though, I choked it back.
“Will I have to use pom-poms?” I asked, mildly horrified.
“It’s dance team, not cheering!” Jojo said. “Don’t listen to Gunner.”
“I was just meant it would be fun to have you at the games,” Gunner tried to explain. Jojo turned to him with raised eyebrows and a knowing smile, which made him quickly backtrack. “I mean, because the whole group, you know, like, all of us, we would all get to hang out and stuff.”
“We’ll see. How’s that?” I said.
“Perfect.” Savannah clapped. “We so need fresh talent. Are you comfortable getting thrown?”
I ran my fingers along my stomach. “No. I, uh, have an old injury. I shouldn’t.”
“No problem, we’ll put you in the regular lineup. No tumbling.”
No tumbling.
Somehow I had not only tumbled into life as a regular high school girl but was the shiny new thing. Savannah made sure I knew where to go, which teachers were cool, which ones weren’t, and was pretty much booking my social calendar full of football games and rallies and dances. Her birthday party was coming up and I had to be there.
“What are we talking about?” Cade came in for a landing at our table, munching on some candy. “Want some?”
I peeked at the packet. “I only like the pink ones. No thanks.”
“I’ll have some.” Savannah cupped her hands out to him with a little pout. “All I’ve been getting is veggies with a side of . . . veggies. My mom says I ate too much in France.”
“Jane is joining dance team!” Jojo announced.
“No . . . ,” I protested.
“She’s going to be fantastic,” Savannah said. “I already know it.”
Cade shot me an amused look.
Somehow, when Savannah decided something, people wound up doing it.
* * *
• • •
That night, I asked if I could borrow Cade’s iPod to practice in the barn. When he brought it out to me he plopped down on the mattress and folded his arms behind his head like he was settling in.
“Um, what are you doing?”
“You’re gonna be performing on a dance team. Did you not catch the part about people watching?” Cade teased.
“It’s awkward if you’re just, like, sitting there.”
“Fine, fine!” He surrendered, then grinned mischievously and, in a dramatic whisper, said, “Dance . . . like no one is watching . . .”
“Shut up!”
“Okay, okay. Do your thing. Seriously . . . have fun. You deserve it. See you in the morning.” Cade did a lousy pirouette and saluted me goodnight at the door.
I put the earbuds in and dimmed the hurricane lamp, shuffling through his music. There was a lot of country. I smiled. Of course there was. I found a couple of upbeat songs that matched some of the go-to dance team moves Jojo had shown me and launched into the practice routine.
My muscles were wound tightly. What was I thinking? Everyone would be wondering who I thought I was showing up to join last-minute. The beat picked up. Did they really want me on the team? Did I even want to be involved in something so . . . conventional?
The music surged through me, skin to heartbeat.
And I stopped worrying about it.
I stopped worrying about anything.
Every twist and dip, each time I went up on my toes or spun, the weight on my shoulders lifted. I had missed this. Ever since my mom first taught me how to waltz, dance had been my getaway car peeling out, the wind in my hair. One two three, one two three, she used to chant as we bobbed across the room, until we were moving too fast to keep count and the three turned into wheeee, and we would fall down dizzy, laughing.
I didn’t learn how to dance alone until I was alone.
An afterschool program for “at risk” kids had a modern dance class. That’s where I found out that thoughts can become movements, that you can convert the darkest parts of your mind into the fuel that lightens your limbs. Anger can shoot your feet
off the floor. Tears can be spun back inside.
I danced alone in the barn until I was sweating and out of breath, ignoring the dull ache in my stomach as the motions pulled at my scar, a new part of my body unfamiliar with movement like this.
When I finally sat down on the floor to stretch, I absently thumbed through Cade’s music lists. “Most Played” caught my eye. A country song was at the top. I hit play. Very soft, minimal chords strummed, and then a deep voice mused:
Has it been that long? No, it’s been much longer. Wanted to see if it’s true, that if I’m not dead, I’m stronger. Yes, is a guess, when you say it too soon. You’d know that, if you knew me . . . anymore.
My mind abruptly flashed to my mother, the last time I saw her, getting small and smaller in the rearview mirror. She wouldn’t know me. I wouldn’t know her.
She disappeared the morning she sent me away with my aunt. Wave bye-bye, Aunt Nikki cheerfully said, like we were just running some quick errands, not driving across the country to Houston and leaving New Hampshire—and my mother—behind forever.
I wondered how strong the things that killed me made me.
Four foster families who don’t want you anymore. Metal beds lined up in a group home, a place for children to dream the lie that they will be loved.
Raff, by the swimming pool, in a blood pool.
I found myself swaying to the dark melody. I stretched my arms over my head.
The pharmacy. The blood. The threat of Grande and the Wolf Cub.
I stood and let the words fill me up, moving with the pensive progression.
My shadow from the lamp was dancing with me, a melancholy waltz.
Yes is a guess if you say it too soon . . .
I realized I knew this song. A heavy metal band sang it first. They’d scream the chorus, “you’d know that if you knew me anymooore.” Raff used to play it in the car. Crazy how different this version sounded. The same words, same melody, but completely different. I was like that, wasn’t I? The girl in Playa Lavilla, Mexico. The girl in Tanner, Texas.
Hide with Me Page 9
