by Lynne Ewing
In the hallway, while I was searching for Rico, I felt someone coming up behind me fast. I turned as Twyla and Tanya shoved me into the bathroom that Core 9 claimed. Tara sauntered in after them, lighting a new cigarette off the ember in her old one, which she tossed into the sink.
“You’ve got a problem,” Tara said, smoke leaking from her mouth. “And it’s only going to get worse unless you take my advice.”
My heart slammed against my ribs, certain she had learned about Danny. Or maybe the boy.
“You can’t be with two guys at the same time,” she said.
“Two?” I countered, my mind so focused on murder and bloodshed that it took me a moment to understand she was talking about Satch and Rico. “I’m not even with one.”
“I told you she’d deny it,” Twyla said.
“You’ve been spending the night with Satch and Rico,” Tara said, matter-of-factly.
“We just hang out. We don’t do anything,” I said emphatically, certain I knew where this was going.
“Core 9 girls do not give it up to boys that way.” Tara drew on the cigarette until the ember glowed red. “We’re tough. We fight. We use guys. They don’t use us.”
I stammered, not sure if I could explain, not sure if I even wanted to try, when Melissa, who rarely came to school anymore, burst into the restroom. A new tattoo started in a curlicue leaf on her ankle and looped sinuously around and up her leg in a vine of flowers. She hesitated when she saw the 3Ts glaring at her.
“This is a private bathroom,” Twyla said, sauntering toward the door. “You’re not allowed in here anymore.”
“That’s the only warning you’re going to get.” Tanya bumped against Melissa in a show of disrespect.
Indifferent to the despair on Melissa’s face, Tara flicked her cigarette at her. “You made yourself a trash can for guys, so what do you expect?”
After the 3Ts left, Melissa kept her eyes downcast.
“Hey,” I said softly. “Are you okay?”
“Something bad’s going on with Trek,” Melissa whispered without taking her gaze off the cigarette burning on the floor. “It’s not the usual crazy stuff. This is different.”
“I believe you,” I said, slipping my arm around her.
Though Melissa didn’t know the cause of Trek’s mood, I did. The reward for information leading to the arrest of the person responsible for killing the eleven-year-old boy had skyrocketed to $100,000. Civilians hadn’t cared that Nando had died, but the kid’s death had outraged them. The story still made the news, the reward growing as people held rallies.
“Melissa?” I asked when her silence had gone on for too long.
“I want out,” she whispered.
“You want out of Core 9?” I didn’t understand the problem. No one was going to stop her. I doubted that anyone would even care.
“The things I’m doing scare me.”
I froze. “Like what?”
She was silent, fidgeting, as if trying to decide how much she should tell me. “Trek and I have this game. At first, it was just to help me get over my shyness.”
“You’ve never been shy,” I started, then stopped. “Tell me about the game.”
“He picks a guy at random and tells me to flirt with him.”
I felt a shiver of apprehension. “Why does he do that?”
She smiled slightly. “I think he likes to see the way guys are attracted to me.”
“And that scares you?”
“That doesn’t, but Trek keeps changing the game. Now he wants to see how many guys I have to ask on a date before I can get one to say yes.”
“Are the guys his friends?”
She shook her head. “Strangers. Business types, like, at the convention center.”
A sick, oily feeling slipped into my stomach as I imagined the old men in suits waiting in a taxi line. How many did Melissa have to ask before one said yes? Not many, I guessed. “And?”
“When I get a yes,” Melissa continued, “then I run back to Trek and we laugh about it. But the last couple of times, Trek’s disappeared and left me stranded.”
“Then what?”
“I go on the date.” She chewed on the end of her nail until a thin line of blood appeared.
I stared at the greenish-blue mark encircling her wrist.
“Did Trek do that to you?” I took her hand, the skin greasy with lotions that smelled of lavender and mint, and gently pushed up her sleeve. Fingerprint bruises dotted her arm.
“I told you something really bad has put him in a foul mood. Nothing I do makes him happy anymore. Not even the games.”
“Let’s ditch school and go someplace where we can talk,” I said.
“I can’t.” She pulled her hand away, leaving a residue of lotion on my palm. “Trek’s waiting for me outside. I just didn’t want the 3Ts to hear what he asked me to tell you.”
Panic shot through me.
“He wants you to go over to his house after school today, dressed up.” She leaned against the exit door. “And bring Satch and Rico with you.”
“Melissa,” I pleaded, “don’t go back to Trek.”
“I’m okay. Really. I shouldn’t have told you about the games. I knew you’d make too much out of them. Trek just wants me to come out of my shell and be a party girl. What’s wrong with that?”
“It doesn’t sound like you.”
“What’s me anymore?” The hopelessness behind her smile broke my heart. She pushed against the door and left me alone in the bathroom.
After composing myself, I headed down the empty hall, then went outside and started toward the dead-end street near the Borderlands in search of Rico and Satch. I was so lost in my own thoughts that it took me a moment to register the chaos at the side of the school. Students who should have been crowding the hallways stood in tight clusters, smiling and nodding and laughing at the graffiti that covered the wall. Even a clica of Lobos girls gaped at the artwork, hiding their smiles from Gatita, who looked furious.
Painted across the bricks was a caricature of Danny, El rompecorazones, cowering in front of a pudgy little cupid, who was shooting arrows at him. Red hearts bubbled around vivid yellow zigzagged letters that spelled out El Cobarde, the coward. Below that were the words Temerozo temerozo de amor, fearful of love, and the last line read Que miedoso es, how scared he is. I recognized Ariel’s style and glanced around.
She was leaning against the wire mesh fence near the parking lot, admiring the graffiti, apparently not concerned about the cops, security guards, and teachers who were threading their way around the students, checking hands for paint stains, as they hunted for the tagger who had defaced school property.
“Nice work.” I said, joining her.
“Kaylee helped me,” Ariel said. She guided her fingernails under her eyes to catch her mascara-stained tears. “We had to throw it up fast before the security guards made their rounds. She’s pretty good.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It looks great.”
“I wish she’d told me all that bit about Trek when it was going on,” Ariel said. “It makes me sick the way I treated her right when she needed me most.”
“None of us were there for her because we were so worried about our own reputations,” I said, but I didn’t think that was the reason Ariel was crying. “What did Danny do to deserve all the paint?”
“He broke up with me,” Ariel explained, her tears spilling faster than she could wipe them away.
My heart seized. “He’s conscious?”
She nodded. “They moved him out of intensive care, and when I snuck into the hospital to see him—”
“Did he tell you what had happened?” I broke in anxiously.
“He’s too scared,” Ariel said. “He won’t talk to the cops or his homies. And he told me it’s too dangerous for us to continue seeing each other. He was actually shaking, like he was afraid someone was going to walk into the room and catch us together. He asked me to leave.”
That didn�
��t sound like Danny, who was normally fearless. He had even threatened me. Something had happened after we left him that had terrified him into silence. He wasn’t the kind of guy who would back down to protect himself. He was doing this for Ariel.
“It was risky, Ariel,” I said finally. “The two of you could have been shot for seeing each other.”
“But I want a guy who’s willing to risk bullets to be with me.” She let out a long sigh as I held her against me.
“What’s one more heartbreak?” she said. “I’ve had so many. It’s just that this time it feels like I won’t survive it.”
“You will,” I said, rubbing her back.
Though I felt responsible for her tears, I also felt relief. I was safe from Danny. Now, my only threat came from Trek, which was bad enough. I had to find a way to free us all from him.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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25
That afternoon I sat on the floor in Trek’s living room, wearing thigh-pinching jeans and a zippered jacket that covered the lacy bra I intended to expose when I lured Trek’s target. Resting against my legs, Pixie and Bonnie whimpered and licked my fingers, seeming aware of the apprehension and anger brewing inside me. I scratched behind their ears, keeping my hands busy so no one could see the tremor in my fingers.
Barely breathing, his face blank, Rico leaned against the wall while Satch sat in a straight-backed chair, fingers tight on his knees, ready to catapult himself into an attack, his eyes locked on Trek. Dante stood sentinel at the window, his focus beyond the glass on the street.
Trek sat in the chair closest to me, his excitement palpable, which troubled me more than if I had sensed the dark mood that Melissa had described. His bare feet, scrupulously clean, rested on the coffee table next to a handgun. The stainless steel barrel caught the overhead light, the reflection stabbing my eyes every time I glanced up at Satch, who avoided my gaze.
Finally, Trek spoke. “I want you to go over to the Pentagon Mall. Tony works there after school, on the third floor, store three twenty-three. Don’t kill, just wound. Don’t try for the arm. It’s too close to the head. Shoot low, the knee, the leg. Can you manage that?”
“Who couldn’t?” Rico said, deflecting the insult.
I tried to picture a drug dealer working out of a store in the shopping center. Maybe a teen who lived a double life, addicted to the thrill of selling illegal drugs while maintaining an honor student image. Such a guy would be easy to lure.
Trek picked up the handgun and offered it to Rico, who took it and checked the sights, the bore, the barrel, before rotating the cylinder. “There’s only one bullet in the chamber,” Rico said.
“After the way you exploded on Danny, I can’t trust you with a fully loaded weapon,” Trek replied.
Rico remained silent, his face stone, but even so his anger bristled into the room. For a moment, I thought he was going to use the bullet on Trek.
Dante pulled away from the window and stepped into the line of fire, easing the tension. “I got something for you.” From his back pocket, he pulled out an object that looked like a short pipe. I recognized it immediately as a homemade silencer. He took the gun from Rico and, after clicking on the safety, twisted the silencer onto the barrel.
“And to show you that we’re cool,” Trek said, “I’m going to give you each a hundred dollars for the job.” The amount, so small, was an insult, another way to say he owned us. He nodded toward Dante. “Pay them.”
Grinning, Dante pulled a roll of twenties from his side pocket and, counting out five bills, walked over to Satch, who held up his hand, refusing payment. Rico stared at Trek, not even acknowledging Dante, who then stepped past him to me. Though I desperately needed the money, I ignored Dante, too. He left the twenties on the coffee table and returned to his post at the window.
“It’s all on the three of you, now,” Trek said, releasing us.
I didn’t feel good about this. The bullet was going to cripple Tony, but I didn’t see a way around it, either. I kissed the puppies good-bye, letting them nuzzle my face, then got up and followed Satch and Rico to the door.
Halfway there, Dante stepped in front of me, blocking my way, as Trek stood, scooped the money off the coffee table, and stuffed it into my purse.
“I owe you for taking care of my dogs.” He closed my purse before I could object, and then his hands strayed to my waist. In a voice too quiet for anyone but me to hear, he added, “Are you still playing hard to get?”
“I hate what you’re doing to Melissa,” I countered.
“She likes what she does,” he said.
“Have you convinced her that it’s fun?” I tried to get away from him, but his fingers hooked onto the waistband of my low-cut jeans and pulled me off balance. I fell against him.
“You sound like you’re jealous of all the attention I’ve been giving her.” The seriousness in his eyes sent a shock through me. “You are, aren’t you?”
“You wish,” I sneered.
“You should give me a try,” he said, releasing me. “I could be good for you.”
I said nothing, my heart thudding, and started around him.
“Does your silence mean you want me, or are you trying to tell me that you’re done with me?” He laughed.
I shoved past him, ignoring his laughter and the warning in the back of my mind that I would never be done with Trek. This was only the beginning.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
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26
The greasy smoke from the hamburger grill swept over us the moment Satch, Rico, and I stepped from the Metro station into the food court at the bottom of the mall. Shoppers mobbed the eating area, utensils and trays clattering, as they jammed in line at the fast food counters and ate packed together at the long tables. Their voices echoed into the atrium and filled the shopping center with a frantic hum that set my nerves on edge.
I followed Satch onto the escalator, Rico behind me. The tread boards hitched and jerked, straining under the weight of so many passengers. I hadn’t expected the mall to be this crowded.
On the third floor, we stopped near the entrance to store 323. I stared at the cashmere sweaters in the window display. “No druggie is going to wear those clothes.”
“That doesn’t mean the guy working inside isn’t selling,” Satch said.
Rico peered through the glass, oblivious to the shoppers jostling around him, his hand under his shirt on the gun. “I don’t see Tony. Maybe he’s in the back.”
“I’ll go in.” I unzipped my jacket, exposing my bra and flat stomach, the top of my jeans two inches below my hipbones. I strolled inside, swinging my purse and smiling, though I could barely breathe.
A girl with long blonde extensions stood behind a counter, folding purple sweaters. She looked delicate and vulnerable, almost prim, in a long-sleeved blouse and pink skirt that she’d obviously purchased in this store.
“Hi!” The eagerness in her greeting suggested that she had been waiting all afternoon for a customer. “Can I help you?”
I ignored her and scanned the rows of dresses, expecting to see furtive movement in the pastel colors. Where the hell was Tony?
“Are you alone?” I stepped over to the girl, surprised to see piercings in her brow, nose, and lips that she had tried to conceal under foundation. Maybe the store owner didn’t allow her to wear hardware to work.
“We’re meeting our friend here.” Rico’s voice came from behind me.
“He’s supposed to be working the afternoon shift,” Satch added.
“I’m the only one clocked in.” The girl folded the sweater against her chest, her gaze locked on Satch, who took her stare as an invitation. He eased around the counter.
“Maybe you know where we can find him,�
� Satch said, his smile irresistible.
She shrugged. “I’m new here, so I don’t know all the employees.”
Leaning down, Satch read her nametag and then glanced up at me. His somber expression told me something was wrong.
“Hey, Tony,” he murmured, focusing in on the girl again. “I like your name.”
Cursing, Rico grabbed my hand and pulled me through the racks of new-smelling clothes to the men’s section.
“Tony?” I whispered in shock, staring at Rico. “She’s Tony?”
“We were gunning for a drug dealer,” Rico said. “You don’t build a reputation shooting schoolgirls.” He snatched a fedora off a male mannequin.
I caught the plastic body before it toppled and set it upright while Rico tore the price tag off the brim.
“Trek must be tripping.” Rico set the hat on his head. “I’m not going to shoot her. What could she have done, anyway, blown him off at some party?”
“Someone gave him the wrong information,” I said. “He wouldn’t have sent me along if he’d known Tony was a girl.”
“He knew,” Rico contended. “No way Trek didn’t know.”
“But why would he let us believe she was a guy?” I asked.
“He was having fun, gaming us.” Rico ripped a tweed jacket off its hanger and pulled out his pocketknife. “I’m not taking care of his sorry love life. Does he think I’m an errand boy like Dante?”
Tony looked up, her gaze shifting to Rico, who was cutting the security sensor from the jacket seam. “Are you going to buy that?” she asked.
The authority that she had mustered into her voice renewed my interest in her. Who was she? She looked familiar, but I still couldn’t place her.
“Why else would I take off the theft detector?” Rico replied, tossing the gray plastic tab onto the floor before sliding his arms into the sleeves.
Convinced that Rico was going to pay, Tony turned back to Satch, her eyes glimmering with fascination.
