Sneakers pound the street, and Marco circles around me, blocking my path. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
I stop. “Sure you do.”
“You’re right. I’m thinking I am a jerk for asking you something like that. You warned me that your dad was good at his job. I guess I didn’t realize how good.” He dips his head, trying to get me to look at him. “I’m sorry. Forgive me?”
I nod and sit on the curb.
Marco sits next to me and takes my hand, turning it over in his. “What did your father say?”
“That I can’t see you anymore.”
He squeezes my hand. “I figured that much. We should probably stick to hanging out before school for a while. I don’t want him to catch you lying about being at Lex’s.”
This is it. Say it.
Marco touches my face, and I shatter inside. “What’s wrong? Are you still pissed at me?”
Lex pushed me into her pool once when the heater was broken. She didn’t know, and it was April, only a month after it had stopped snowing. When I hit the water, it knocked the air out of my lungs, and my legs felt like they weighed hundreds of pounds. For the first few seconds, the cold stabbed at my skin like bee stings. Then my skin went numb. I still couldn’t catch my breath, but I didn’t feel cold.
I feel the same way now.
“We can’t see each other anymore.” I can’t look at him.
“You mean outside of school, until things settle down with your dad? Right?”
“I mean at all.” My vision blurs, and tears threaten to spill over. “My dad is a cop, and you are a car thief. This will never work out.”
Marco slides around and kneels in front of me, cradling my face in his hands. His dark eyes find mine, the weight of what’s happening bearing down on him.
My mind flashes to the night I knelt in a different parking lot with my heart breaking. This time I’m not the one kneeling, but my heart is breaking all over again.
“You don’t mean that, Frankie. You’re scared. I get it. But you love me, right?” The pain in his voice pulls the loose thread holding me together, and I can’t stop the tears.
Inside, I’m coming apart. “It doesn’t matter if I love you.”
“Bullshit.” He wipes my tears with his thumbs, but they keep falling. “It’s the only thing that matters.” He presses his lips against mine, and my heart doesn’t shatter—it explodes like a bomb inside me, destroying every shred of happiness.
I pull back and scramble to my feet. “I can’t do this. I won’t let my dad use me to bust you. And I can’t let my dad lose his job. He’s still my father. It’s better if we end things now, or it will only hurt even more when it doesn’t work out later.”
Marco stands, his eyes trained on me. “How could it hurt more than this?”
“I’m—” I choke back a sob. “I’m not trying to hurt you. This isn’t easy for me, either.”
Tears pool in his eyes. “Then don’t do it.” It’s a whisper. “I can’t lose you. Don’t give up on us. I’m begging you.”
When Lex pushed me into the pool, my limbs went numb, but they kept thrashing. My body never gave up. Lex pulled me out before it got to that point.
This time there’s no one to pull me out, and the numbness spreads like an infection.
“I’m sorry.” My voice sounds hoarse. “I have to go.”
“Don’t do this, Angel.”
I turn away and head across the parking lot before I fall apart.
If I make it to the bus stop, I’ll be okay.
“Frankie!” Marco calls after me. “I thought our love was the always kind.”
I freeze, tears streaming down my face. I want to tell him about the deal with Dad, and I almost turn around. Then the look on my father’s face flashes through my mind—the one that said he would destroy Marco if I went back on my word.
A promise like that from my dad … it was the always kind, too.
“Frankie?” he calls out again.
I finally understand what Marco meant.… The sky does look different in the Downs. I want to tell him that we can still see the same stars if I tell him about the stars in my sky and he tells me about the ones in his. But I can’t say that now. I swallow the thought along with all the other things I want to say.
Instead of answering him, I run.
*
After riding on a smelly bus with a bunch of strangers, I make it home and find Tyson’s Crown Vic parked next to Dad’s Tahoe.
I fumble with the house keys, exhausted and defeated.
Cujo’s ears perk when I walk in, and Dad and Tyson look up from the papers spread across the coffee table.
“What happened?” Dad asks, without a hint of empathy.
“You lost the right to ask me questions like that when you destroyed my life. My note said it all.”
“You didn’t have to go see him.” My father crosses his arms. “Your cell phone works.”
It does. And I want hurl it at his head.
Tyson leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and scowls at Dad. “Take it easy, Jimmy.”