A familiar rumbling grew louder and died outside my trailer. A motorcycle. I ripped the sticky note off the pad and stuffed it in my pocket while I sprinted to the door, flinging it open and blocking the stoop before he could knock and wake my mother.
“What are you doing here?” I made a roadblock with my hands. Reece rested a hip against the splintered rail and squinted up at me.
His eyes drifted down to my pajama pants. “Suspension’s over. I’m taking you to school.”
I gritted my teeth. Like if I bit down hard enough, it could block the flow of blood to my cheeks. And maybe keep him off my porch. “I have a ride.”
He came up the steps anyway, backing me into the door. “I’ve seen your ride and he’s not doing much for you. He was kind of a dick on Friday—”
“So were you!” I braced my hands on the frame. No way was I letting him inside.
“Yeah, we didn’t really get to finish our conversation about that. About where you went when you disappeared on Friday?”
This “where were you the night of Friday May 23” crap was getting old. And I had no intention of telling him I’d gone to the same bathroom where Posie had been found. I didn’t owe him anything. “I rode the bus home from the class trip with Jeremy.”
He looked at me like I was an idiot. “Yeah, Lonny made a point of mentioning it—”
“Lonny? When?”
He gripped the top of the door frame and leaned in close. “When he promised to put a cap in my ass if he found out we were lying.” He didn’t blink.
I glanced toward Lonny’s trailer, where his Lexus idled. I could just make out the shape of his head, hunkered down in the front seat, watching us in his mirrors.
“You let him think you’re my girlfriend, and that’s the only reason he didn’t impale me with my own ribs that night in the park. He’s got his eyes on both of us, waiting for us to trip in our own bullshit. Running away from me at the amusement park and going home with Jeremy just made him suspicious. I had to make up some lie about you being pissed off at me.”
“Where’s the lie in that?” Our eyes met and held. “I saved you once. No one said I had to do it again.”
“Who said anything about saving me?”
The bike’s engine cooled with a series of soft clicks. Traffic hummed on Route 1, and the smell of rancid trash was growing stronger as the morning sun glinted hot off the cans. I looked down the street. Lonny’s face was clear in his side mirror. He looked straight at me, touched his index finger to his lips, and blew a kiss like it was smoke from the barrel of a gun.
“Wait here,” I said. “I’ll get my things.” I opened the door and headed to the kitchen, cursing under my breath as I slapped together a quick PB&J and shook open a paper bag. Reece reached over my shoulder and grabbed it off the counter.
“I thought I told you to wait outside!” I hissed.
He inhaled half of my sandwich and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he pushed past me into the hall, paused at the No Smoking sign, and let himself into my bedroom.
“You can’t be here! My mother will have a stroke!” It came out as a frantic breathy whisper.
“If you’re quiet, she’ll never have to know.” He rummaged in my closet, shuffling through my scant collection of secondhand clothes.
A pair of frayed low-rise jeans landed on my feet. A designer label Mona’d found at a yard sale in Belle Green, practically a give-away because of the bleach stains. She’d retired them to the closet a year ago, saying they showed too much skin. I couldn’t agree more.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting you ready for school.” Reece examined a stretchy collared shirt, two sizes too small. It had been part of a sweatervest set I’d worn to middle school graduation. He tossed it to me. “Put this on.”
I plucked the hem of my heavy metal T-shirt. “What I have on is fine! It’s too hot for a sweater vest.”
“You’re not wearing a sweater vest.”
I held the blouse against my torso. “It’s too small!”
He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I know.”
“Why are you making me wear it?”
“Because Lonny doesn’t believe you’re my type.”
I waved the shirt in his face. “And this is your type?”
He looked at the shirt, then at my chest, and smiled.
I made a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh. A minute passed on my desk clock. He didn’t move. He didn’t care if we were late.
“Fine!” I started to push him into the hall and paused. If Mona woke up and found him in the living room, I’d be dead. If he was here with me, at least I could shove him out the window. I checked the lock. “Turn around.” I twisted him to face the wall.
I slipped off my pajama pants, pulling my shirt down to cover myself while I eased on the ones Reece picked out. I looked twice to make sure he wasn’t peeking, then wiggled out of my shirt lightning quick and stuffed my arms into the blouse. The stretchy material was too tight across the chest, pulling the fabric taut between each button. I picked at the fabric, wishing there was more of it, and tapped Reece’s shoulder with an exasperated sigh.
“Satisfied? Can we go now?” I looked ridiculous.