He stops. “No, you’re not. If Deacon sees you in that sling, he’ll kill your dad. Stay here.”
Her bottom lip trembles as Marco tears up the stairs. I walk over and loop my arm through her uninjured one, the way Lex does whenever I’m upset.
Cruz looks over at Chief. “If Deacon finds my dad before Marco gets to him…”
“He won’t really kill your father, will he?” I ask.
“I don’t think so, but with Deacon … you never know. He’s unpredictable. It’s the reason we broke up. That and his temper.”
“Did he hurt you?” After hearing what Cruz’s father did to her, I’m afraid to hear the answer.
“Cruz is probably the only person he’d never hurt.” Chief takes his cap off again, then puts it back on a second later. “I failed with Deacon. Got to him too late. A kid can only take so many beatings until the good gets beaten out of him, too. It’s a damn shame. The only person I’ve seen in years who drove a car better than Deacon or Marco is you.”
The color drains from Cruz’s face, and she covers her mouth. “I’m supposed to race on Thursday, and I’m right-handed.” She can’t shift.
Chief climbs out of the Camaro and points an angry finger at her. “You shouldn’t be racing at all, unless it’s on a track. You and Marco are going to get yourselves killed. What will happen to your sisters then?”
Her hand shakes. “I don’t have a choice. Someone has to pay the rent, buy food—”
“I’ve heard this song before.” Chief dismisses her argument with a wave. “When Deacon got expelled. When Marco dropped out of all his AP classes. When you and Marco started racing. I’m ready to hear a new one.”
Marco was in AP classes? Why would he drop out?
The bell rings.
“Get to class.” Chief takes a seat in his chair. “Unless you’re ditching, too.”
Cruz’s shoulders sag as she heads for the stairs.
I wait until we reach the top before I steer her toward the stairwell. “Can you postpone the race until your arm heals?”
Trying to talk her out of racing is a waste of time. She can’t snap her fingers and change her situation just because I ask.
Right after Noah died, mom begged me to pull myself together—to hang out with my friends at Woodley and pick up where I left off like Noah’s death had never happened.
Can’t we move on? she asked me a hundred times.
Can’t you forget? That’s what she really meant.
I can’t rewrite history any more than Cruz can find a job that pays a seventeen-year-old enough to cover rent—or trade a father who hurts her for one who takes care of her.
“It doesn’t work that way.” She wipes underneath her eyes with the hem of her shirt, and the mascara smudges disappear. “The race is Thursday night. If my car isn’t in it, it’s an automatic loss.” She inhales. “I won’t be able to make rent, and I’ll owe money I don’t have.”
“How much?” I still have two hundred dollars.
“Twelve hundred.”
I could swallow my pride and ask Mom for the money. But Cruz probably wouldn’t take it, and the offer might offend her. I have another idea. “You said your car has to be in the race. Does that mean someone else can drive it?”
“Yeah, but—”
“What about Marco?”
“Nobody would ever be stupid enough to agree to let Marco drive proxy. He’s too good.”
Think.
“What about someone nobody knows? Someone who has never raced before?”
She shrugs. “I guess. But if the person doesn’t know anything about racing, they’d have no chance of winning.”
“I will if you teach me.”
Cruz stares at me like I’m crazy. “You would do that?”
I can’t tell if she’s asking because she likes the idea or hates it. “If you think I have a chance at winning.”
“We’d have to start practicing tonight.” She rubs her arm through the sling and winces.
“Are you okay?” I hate seeing her in pain, and I hate her father for doing this to her.
She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath before opening them again. “I’m good. What time are you free?”
“I finish working at the rec center at seven.” I’m really doing this.
“I’ll meet you in the parking lot. My other sister Ava is a sophomore. She can drive us in my car.”
There’s no way I can get out of riding with Lex, not without an airtight story. “Actually, that won’t work. Can you meet me near my dad’s apartment in Westridge instead?”
“You name the place. Just text me the address. I’m not showing up to class with mascara all over my face and my arm in a sling. Put your number in here for me.” She hands me her cell.
I add my number and return the phone. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“This is more than a favor, Frankie. If you do this, I’ll owe you.” She’s serious. I hear it in her voice.
“You don’t owe me anything. That’s not why I’m doing it.” I want to help Cruz. I think of her as a friend, and she wasn’t racing for fun.
She shakes her head and smiles to herself. “It makes sense.”
“What does?” I ask.
“Why Marco is crazy about you.” She takes off down the hall, leaving me speechless.