“It won’t,” I say, more for my benefit than his. “It’s not going to.” Jasper and I stare at each other because we both know I have no idea whether that’s true. We don’t know anything. “Maybe we should call the police now. I know Cassie doesn’t want us to. But there are worse things than some boarding school boot camp.”
“Like jail, for instance?” Jasper asks. “Because that’s what she’s worried about. That’s why she doesn’t want us calling the police. Cassie was arrested right after Thanksgiving.”
“Arrested?” Cassie and I were still talking after Thanksgiving, at least for a week. She got arrested and never mentioned it? “For what?”
“Buying pot downtown with Stephanie,” he says. “Out of the back of some waffle truck. I guess you order some special kind of waffle, you get an eighth as a booster.” He shrugs like he would have no idea about such things. “So stupid. Anyway, Stephanie and Cassie both got a CWOF.”
“What’s that?”
“Continuance Without a Finding,” he says like he is well versed in such things. “Basically, if Cassie stays out of trouble for a year, her arrest gets erased. But if something else happens, it’ll definitely go down on her permanent record. Maybe even get her sent to a halfway house or something.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling embarrassed that Jasper knows yet more details that I don’t. I feel more worried for Cassie, too. Arrested, permanent record, halfway house? Things are even worse than I feared.
“Sorry,” Jasper says. Sorry she didn’t tell you herself, that’s what he means. He’s trying to be nice, but him apologizing on Cassie’s behalf only makes me feel worse. “Anyway, maybe we should ask her again about telling the police or her mom. Push her a little, you know? Make sure she’s thinking clearly. There are more important things even than her permanent record.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, but I’m really not convinced that Cassie is thinking clearly.
I know u said not to call the police or your mom, I type. But Jasper and I really think we should. Your being safe is more important than anything else.
But Cassie’s response comes instantly. And settles it once and for all. Don’t call my mom or the police. These people will kill me if you do.
The baby-lady smiles over at me when Jasper and I return. Her husband is still leaning inside the open hood.
“I’m Lexi, by the way.” She holds out a delicate hand. “We’re from Brooklyn, but we were just up in the White Mountains. And we’re on our way now to Acadia National Park.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “The out-of-our-way-mountain detour was for me. Acadia is for Doug. He’s an astronomer, and there’s a meteor shower that we’re headed to see. Or he’s going to see. Let’s face it, the baby and I will probably be sound asleep in some motel.” She smiles and hitches her head in the direction of her husband. “And don’t worry. Doug will get it started. You’d never think that someone who grew up in Manhattan would be so good with cars, but he’s an absolute whiz.”
“Yeah, not this time,” Doug says when he pulls himself out from under the hood. He has a wrench in his thick hand, and his sleeves are rolled up over his muscular forearms. He’s more solid and scruffier up close. Older, too, definitely older than Lexi. And with the beard and the plaid shirt, he looks like he should be chopping wood somewhere. A lot of it. “You’re going to need a new starter. Any actual mechanic would have one. But I can’t do anything for you without the part.”
Damn it. My heart pumps harder in my chest. These people will kill me if you do. We have to go, now. When I look over at Jasper, he’s staring at me with this expression: tell me you have an idea. I look around the gas station, at all that darkness and all those trees. This nice woman and her little baby and her Paul Bunyan astronomer-husband are it. They are our only option.
“Can you take us?” I blurt out. “Please.”
“Take you where, honey?” Lexi asks. She’s trying not to sound nervous, but she’s pressed a protective hand against the window behind her, where her baby is probably snuggled inside.
Doug doesn’t look happy either. He’s leaned back against our car with his big arms crossed, glaring at the side of his wife’s face. Don’t you dare, that’s what the look says. My dad used to use it on my mom all the time, right before he ended up doing whatever it was she wanted.
“Somebody took our friend to this camp near some town named Seneca. It’s in Maine,” I say, trying to make the situation sound pressing, but not actually dangerous and not totally inconvenient. I tap on my phone to see how far away that really is. “It’s in the direction of Acadia. I mean, I guess depending on which way you were going. Or maybe you could take us part of the way and we could hitch another ride?”
Hitch another ride? Like that’s a totally reasonable possibility. Lexi is still looking at Doug with her head tilted to the side now, smiling like a little girl trying to talk her parents into a treat. And it’s a look she must give Doug a lot, because he’s doing his best to avoid it. Finally, he exhales loudly and shakes his head.