I climbed in. The bucket seat molded to my back. The fifty slid into my pocket like it belonged there.
Michael peeled out, leaving twin black streaks behind us. I thought he was going to drive like an ass, but once he had his bucking bronco moment he settled down and drove cautiously.
I relaxed a little.
The Mustang carried us into the hills.
CHAPTER TWO
Damn, baby. I can’t concentrate,” Michael said as he drove higher into the subdivisions that surround the city. He smiled into the rearview mirror.
“Well, hell.” Cyndra groaned, pushing her knees into the back of my seat. “It’s so boring. Don’t you talk?”
I ignored her. She was one of those girls used to attention. If you’re male and have a pulse, then she expects you to be into her. Assumes that you will be, accepts it as tribute.
Her hand brushed my earlobe. “Gimme one of those.”
Even though I knew what she was doing, I shivered as the warmth of her hand hovered over my ear. My fingers fumbled for a cigarette.
“Thanks, Slick.” She gave my ear a tweak.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Whooo,” Cyndra replied, fake scared.
“What do you want?” I asked Michael as he eased past a gatehouse. A security guard waved as we passed.
“Let’s just wait till we get there,” he said.
“Where?”
“My house.”
Cyndra’s hand hovered by my ear again. “Light this for me? I won’t bite. I promise.”
I didn’t want to twist to face her, so I flipped the visor down and stared at her in the small mirror.
“Damn, X-ray Eyes! Stop glaring.” She licked her teeth. “You know, you have really blue eyes?” She made it sound like a question. “They’re, like, startling. Like a dog’s. You know—a wolf-y dog.” Cyndra’s fingers hovered by my hair.
I jerked my head away. “Don’t.”
She pouted. “Touchy.” She waved the cigarette over my shoulder.
I lit it. The filter tasted like her lip gloss, like berries. I handed the cigarette back. Cyndra took a drag.
“Mmmm.” She sighed.
She wanted me to look at her again, so I flipped the visor up.
The car prowled along the top of a baby mountain. I knew the area by reputation—rich people lived here, one mansion after another. I tried not to look at the houses. I tried not to think about things that aren’t mine and never will be.
Instead, I thought about my little sister. Imagined her in our room at home, waiting for me to get there. Pretending like she’s not worried when I walk in. Succeeding in not saying anything about me cutting it close for all of five seconds. Like she’s going to tell me something I don’t already know.
The car zigzagged along the ridgeline. Houses, huge and commanding impressive views of the city below, competed with each other to be bigger.
“Here we are.” Michael whipped a smile at me and turned into a winding driveway that led to a mansion. It looked like it had to have at least fifty rooms.
Janie and I share a room. I put up a piece of Sheetrock in between our beds, so we each would get a little privacy. But there’s no hiding the fact that it’s one room. I didn’t even want to think about how spacious and private Michael’s room was.
When we got out, Cyndra flicked her cigarette into the bushes. Mine was already rolling down the driveway.
She came and stood too close, sizing me up.
She smiled at Michael, so I couldn’t tell if she really liked what she saw or if she was playing a role for him.
“C’mon,” Michael said. He shielded a keypad with his body and punched a few buttons. The keypad blipped, and the door opened with a slight suction smack.
Inside, it was freezing, like a museum or a theater. We passed rooms that looked like advertisements in a magazine and ended up downstairs at a bar or den or something.
I tried not to touch anything.
“Sit down.” Michael gestured to a large sofa.
“What do you want?”
Cyndra padded in with three sparkling glasses on a tray. When she walked by I could smell the rum mixed in with the Coke.
“Help yourself,” she said, leaning over Michael.
He stared down her shirt, but did it cold, like he was checking an investment.
I took the drink and leaned against the wall. “So?”
Michael took a huge swig. “I need a favor. It’s nothing, really, not for a guy like you. It would only be for a couple of weeks.”
I waited.
Michael drained his glass.
“It’s like this.” He talked through his teeth like the alcohol had a bite. “I need you to hang around with my crew.”
He made it sound like it was some big crime syndicate or something. I pictured his jock and prep friends, imagined them pissing themselves if they ever stood in front of my dad and his juice-head buddies.
Michael gave his glass a little shake. Cyndra left to refill.
“Why?” I asked.
He scrubbed his head and beamed a lopsided grin.
“It’s stupid,” he said. “Does it matter? All you need to know is I’ll pay you. You’ll sit with my crew in classes, if you can, join us at break and at lunch, and show up out at a few places where we hang.”
“Why?”
Cyndra brushed past me again. She curled next to Michael on the sofa.
“Think of it like a bet,” she said.
“Yeah, like that.” Michael smiled at her. “Like I made a bet with some people. About my connections. About things I could deliver or supply.”
I didn’t think I let anything show on my face, but Michael stopped talking.
I put my drink on the table. “I don’t deal. I can’t get you anything.”
Which wasn’t really true.
Michael held up his hands. “I don’t want anything. I mean, I can get whatever I want. I mean, just listen. Sit down, okay?”
I stayed leaning against the wall and waited.
“You don’t have to do anything. It’s what people think you can do.” Michael smiled. “It’s the school and the grapevine, right? The gossip. You’re practically a contract killer, you know? There are all these stories. Remember that fight? The one with the black belt?”
What a stupid question.