“How do you propose that? You ruined my phone! How am I going to explain that to my parents? ‘I’m sorry, I was just texting with the school delinquent and the professor destroyed my phone in his evening latte!’?”
Tyler shrugged. A shitty, guilty feeling rolled around in his stomach. “Well, that was a little extreme. I mean, most teachers just take it away until the end of class. Or dock you points. But I’ll fix it.”
“I’ve tried the cell-phone-in-rice stunt,” Kinley snapped. “Guess what? It doesn’t work.”
Tyler raised his arm in the air and motioned over a vehicle—the same purple Jeep as last time. He was going to fix this. He had to.
Kinley held up her hands. “I’m outta here. I’ve been in enough trouble for one day.”
“Just wait,” Tyler said. “I swear if anything happens I’ll say you had nothing to do with it.”
Kinley groaned. “I don’t have time for this. Please tell me why I’m supposed to trust you again?”
“I’m trying to prove myself to you right now!” Tyler pleaded. He clasped his hands together, his fingers interlaced like he was praying. “Please?”
Kinley shook her head, but she didn’t move.
Tyler waved again, and the Jeep pulled in, a few spaces away since the parking lot was still full. There was some kind of drama club meeting tonight.
“Wait here,” Tyler said. He walked up to the Jeep, and the same pale guy—Jer—handed him two bags. Tyler slipped him a fold of bills.
“What about the other thing?” Jer asked, scratching behind his ear.
“Not today, dude.” Tyler cast a look back at Kinley, who was playing with the end of her long braid.
Jer shrugged, following Tyler’s glance. “Whatever.”
“Thanks, man.” Tyler bumped fists with the guy and then turned back to Kinley. He tucked one bag into the waistband of his jeans; the other, he tried to hand to her.
She took a step back. “I don’t do drugs!”
He laughed. “It’s not drugs. Check it out.” He ripped open the bag himself and pulled out a phone. A brand-new model.
“It’s unlocked,” he said. “Maybe it’s not exactly like yours, but it’s close.” He handed it to her “It’s the least I could do. I know you’re still not Dr. Stratford’s favorite, but—”
“It’s . . . a lot like my other one,” she said, almost grudgingly. She turned it over, judging it closely. “How did you get it so fast?”
Tyler lifted a shoulder. “I texted my connections while Stratford was taking your phone for a swim. They always come through.”
Kinley’s grip tightened on the phone. “It’s the only thing . . . I mean, thank you.” Her face was lit up. For some reason, he got the feeling that maybe, despite all of her success, nice things didn’t happen for her all that often.
He grinned. She was so damn cute. A couple of hairs had come loose from her perfect braid and were in her eyes. He wanted to move them, but he was afraid to scare her.
“I appreciate it. I guess.” Kinley smiled a little. “God, Stratford totally sucks, doesn’t he?” she said, and laughed.
Tyler chuckled. “He’s an asshole. You’re right. He gets off on being mean. It’s not you, you know.”
“Yeah, but he really seems to hate me.” She pulled her notebook out of her backpack and showed him the list of assignments taped to the first page. “This is what I have to do to get back into his good graces—if I even can, after the phone incident. All by Tuesday.”
Tyler pulled the list off and whistled. “Okay, maybe he does hate you. But guess what?”
“What?”
“You’re in good company,” he said, grinning.
Kinley slugged him playfully in the arm. Tyler rubbed the spot, pretending it hurt. He sort of liked her. No, he actually liked her. Kinley was the most badass chick he’d met in a while. “You know,” he said, “you aren’t the narc they say you are.”
She didn’t smile. “Yeah, I kind of am, actually. But you aren’t the delinquent they say you are.”
Tyler lifted up his shirt, revealing the Baggie, and pretended not to notice when her eyes roamed. “Yes. I am.”
Cade
Thursday, June 11
Cade didn’t like his dad, per se. He guessed that maybe he loved him, in that way kids were genetically inclined to love their parents, but that was pretty much it.
Everyone said that it was just his culture that made his father so rough and unsympathetic, but Cade knew enough Japanese parents to know the truth: his dad was just an asshole.
It didn’t mean he didn’t have some decent qualities. Just not many. His very best quality was that everyone was half scared of him, and so basically they always treated Cade with a certain measure of respect.
He was sort of banking on that today. He cleared his throat and adjusted his shirt, and then he rang the doorbell.