“Are you okay? I haven’t seen you around school lately,” Serena mumbles. “At first, I thought you were just ditching me because of what happened at the party, and then I didn’t see you the next day and I wondered if Dutch had finally run you out of Redwood.”
I adjust the phone to my other ear while I stir a cup of hot tea. “No, I didn’t get kicked out of Redwood.”
She makes a sound of pure relief. “What happened then?”
I shrug the blanket tighter around myself and sink into the couch. “I got sick.”
Turns out, getting shoved into a freezing pool and can weaken a body. After waking up in the nurses office, I found out I had a fever. She sent me to the hospital and by that time, the fever had turned into raging flu symptoms. I got a doctor’s note saying I can’t rejoin society for another three days.
“Oh my gosh. Are you okay?” Serena asks.
“I’m fine.” I smile when Breeze emerges from the bathroom, sees me making my own tea and slants me a thunderous look.
My best friend stomps over to me and wrenches the cup from my hand. Pointing a finger at the couch, she mouths, “Sit. Now.”
I stick my tongue out at her but obediently take my seat.
Serena sighs. “You’re being totally understanding, but I already prepared my speech so I’m going to go for it anyway.”
I laugh softly and nestle into the corner of the couch, watching as Breeze brings a flu pill along with my tea.
“At Babe’s party, I tried to follow you up the stairs. Zane and Finn were standing there like two bodyguards. They wouldn’t even let people onto the second floor. I told them my friend was in there. They said Dutch would drop you home.”
My eyes bug. I had no idea Zane and Finn were right outside the bedroom door. Did they hear us that night?
Heat flares in my cheeks. “It’s okay. I, um, I got home okay.”
She doesn’t need to know that I was so ticked off, I walked almost a mile on my own before I realized I was completely lost. At that point, it took me another half-hour to hike to a bus stop. Apparently, buses don’t run in neighborhoods as fancy as Babe’s.
“So did you make up with Dutch? I heard he ran through the hallways holding you in his arms like he was shooting a scene from The Notebook.” Serena laughs. “Are you two back to being the golden couple of Redwood?”
I hack out a cough, pretending that I’m choking on something.
She yelps. “Yikes, that sounds bad. I’ll let you get some rest.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you at school later.”
When I hang up, Breeze gives me a pointed look. “The old cough-hack maneuver. She fell for that?”
I accept the pill, set it on my tongue, and chase it back with the tea.
Breeze plops into the chair beside me, observing me intently.
“I appreciate you ditching school to take care of me,” I say, shifting away from her. “But you really didn’t have to.”
“Yes, I did. You barely tell me anything anymore. Now that there’s nowhere for you to run, I want to hear everything.”
“Everything?”
“You think I buy that weak excuse you gave me at the dance? I saw the way Dutch watched you when you were talking to Hunter that night. He looked like he wanted to rip Hunter’s head off.”
“Trust me. If he wanted to rip someone’s head off, he would’ve.”
Breeze purses her lips. “Even the kids at Redwood are whispering about you two. Are you seriously going to keep lying to your best friend?”
I grab a pillow and pull at the tattered strings. She’s right. I can’t trust anyone if I can’t trust Breeze. It’s time I come clean.
“Dutch has been trying to kick me out of Redwood.”
Her eyes bug. “What? Why?”
“I have no idea. He won’t tell me.”
“What’s he done?”
I scrunch my nose. “Remember that scandal with the teacher a few weeks ago?”
“Yeah.” She bobs her head.
I give her a pointed look.
She gasps loudly. “No! They were talking about you?”
“That’s not the only thing. He destroyed my locker, my keyboard and…”
Breeze pounces out of her chair.
“Where are you going?” I call.
“To kill him. Duh!” She shoves up the sleeves of her shirt and turns toward the door.
I chase after her and drag her back to the couch. “Breeze. Wait.”
“Why should I wait? Why is his head not on a freaking pike?” Color flushes her cheeks. Her voice trembles, but it’s not because she’s scared. It’s because she’s enraged. “Who the hell does she think he is to try and ruin your life?” A humorless laugh falls past her lips. “And here I thought he was such a catch for helping you with your stage fright. I didn’t know it was an act.”
“That’s the thing.” I chew on my bottom lip.
She whips her hair around, her eyes on fire. “What’s the thing?”
“I don’t… know if it was an act.”
She frowns at me. “Explain that.”
“I know this might sound crazy but… a few weeks ago, he stood up for me when this jock tried to shame me in front of everyone in the cafeteria. And when I got pushed into the pool, I heard that he was the one who saved me.”
“Okay, so he’s not a total douche. Are we forgiving him for everything he’s done?”
“Of course not,” I say vehemently. And then, less vehemently, I tack on, “But it’s complicated.”
She thinks about it and then nods. “You think a guy who likes you is going to treat you like crap? Sweetie, how many girls have we seen in our neighborhood who end up getting hurt thinking like that?”
My chest pangs in pain. “You’re right. I know you’re right. The thing is…. I should hate him. And I did. At the start, I wanted him to die a painful death, but now—”
“Now you’re falling for him?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Good.” She sweeps her hand up my back. “Forget about, Dutch. He may be hot and rich… and gorgeous and talented…and—”
“Can you not?” I frown at her.
“But,” she smiles, “you don’t need a guy who swings hot and cold. Besides putting any kind of hope in Dutch choosing you out of all the harems of girls who fling themselves at him is just wishful thinking. You deserve a guy who’s more down to earth. Someone who only has one or two girls after him, instead of a horde.”
“Interesting way of thinking.”
“So let’s talk about Hunter.” Breeze grins.
I groan. “Breeze, can you stop pushing Hunter at me?”
“Is it not clear that I’m Team Hunter by now?”
“I’ve barely spoken to him. And he’s several years older than me.”
“Age is just a number, honey. And you’re not going to be a minor for much longer.”
“Yeah, but—”
“I know for a fact that he wants to speak to you more often.” She points at my phone. “Didn’t you say he slid into your DMs?”
“All he said was ‘hey’.”
“Exactly! That’s basically a love confession.”
I roll my eyes. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”
“I say forget about Dutch and move on to Hunter. The man gave you a punching bag.” She shoves a hand at it. “A punching bag. If that’s not boyfriend material, I don’t know what is.”
“You’re right.”
“So what are you going to do?” she asks.
“About what?”
“About Hunter?”
“I don’t know.”
“Text him back,” she says, swatting me.
“Ow! Ow! I’m injured,” I bawl out.
“Ooh. Sorry.” She soothes my hand.
I sigh heavily. “Maybe I’ll consider texting him back. Just to be friendly.”
Breeze blows me a kiss. “Atta girl.”
I smile as she fusses over my pillows and then turns on a movie. But my thoughts aren’t on the rom-com. It’s on a certain blond guitar player with a penchant for scowls and tattoos.
I know Breeze is right about Dutch being too difficult to deal with. And I know I should probably take her advice. Mom didn’t turn into a raging drug-addicted narcissist overnight. She started by falling for the wrong guy at the wrong time.
But there are flashes of moments when Dutch doesn’t seem like wrong guy. Especially when he’s goofing off with his brothers or charming old cafeteria ladies.
I think about the day he stepped in between me and the jock in the cafeteria. The day at the dance when I was able to have fun on stage, surrounded by an entire freshman class, just because he was by my side.
More than that, I saw flashes of the real him when he was with my other self.
After everything that’s happened, I can’t deny that there’s something dangerously volatile between us.
Especially when I’m in costume and I can feel that he’s interested in me.
Whether it’s as myself or as someone else, Dutch is the one I keep running back to. And whether he cares to admit it or not, there’s a part of him that keeps running back to me too.
One day, when we collide, it’s going to destroy us both.
What scares the hell out of me is that I don’t think either one of us will be able to stop it.
After the movie, Breeze leaves. As I’m walking her out, I notice a letter in our mail box.
My eyes bug when I take it inside and read it.
Behind on mortgage payments?
I blink and blink, waiting for the words to change.
They don’t.
Sure that this must be some mistake, I call the bank to verify.
“It says here that a Miss Monica Cooper withdrew the funds herself,” the perky bank worker says.
A chill runs down my spine. I dig my fingers into the cell phone.
“Will there be anything else?” she chirps.
“No. Nothing else.”
I sink into the couch, my head spinning. A feeling of dread slithers down my back.
Don’t panic, Cadence.
First things first. I need to find a way to pay the bank. If not, Viola and I might be homeless. Rick only agreed to sign the guardianship papers because of mom’s last request, but he won’t take us in. Breeze doesn’t have enough space for the both of us.
There’s no way I’ll allow my sister to sleep on the street. Throwing my blanket off, I throw on a pair of jeans, sneakers and a T-shirt and show up to the diner. It’s so busy that the manager allows me to work my shift as long as I keep a mask on.
Later that night, I get a call from the lounge inviting me to do an impromptu event.
“It’s in an hour. Do you think you can make it?”
“Yes, I’ll be right there.”
Viola comes home when I’m about to leave.
She takes one look at my outfit and frowns. “Why are you wearing the wig? Did you do your own makeup?”
“Yeah. Does it look okay?”
“I guess.” She frowns. “Are you going to perform?”
I avoid her question. “There’s a burger from the diner on the stove. You just have to microwave it.” I hop on one foot and zip up my boots. “Make sure you do your homework before you play on your phone.”
Viola grabs my hand. Her big brown eyes peer into mine. “Cadence, you’re sick.”
“Thanks, sis,” I say dryly.
She frowns. “I meant physically ill. You shouldn’t be going anywhere right now.”
“I don’t have time for this, Vi. I need to leave.”
“No.” She wraps her fingers around me.
“Vi, let go.”
“You’re going to work yourself to death if you keep going like this.”
Her insistence is the match on my powder keg of a stress ball. After getting pushed into a pool, almost drowning, and, now, realizing that we’re going to be evicted, I snap.
“Can’t you see I’m doing this to take care of us!” I yell.
Hurt pools in her clear brown eyes.
I instantly regret snapping at her. My shoulders sag. I scrub my forehead with my hand. “Vi, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’m just… there’s a lot going on.”
“You think I don’t know how hard you work? You think I’m not grateful?” She shrieks. “I’m just worried about you. There’s only so much you can do, Cadey. Eventually, you’re going to break and I couldn’t survive that.”
“Yes, you could. You’re stronger than you think, Vi.”
“No, I’m not,” she insists. “Mom’s gone and if you go too, I’m going to be all alone. I’d fall apart without you.”
My heart twists painfully. I think about the letter in the mail and my call with the bank. There’s so much at stake right now. I can’t let her tears sway me.
“Vi,” I swallow hard, “I’m feeling much better. You don’t have to worry.”
“The doctor said you should rest for three days. It has not been three days, Cadey. If you go out there and faint or something for a few bucks—”
“I won’t faint. I really need this job and I really need to go, okay?”
She sucks her tears back in and nods.
I’m halfway to the door when I turn back. “And Vi?”
“Huh?”
“Lock the doors tight behind me. Don’t open it for anyone.”
“Why do you keep telling me that. I’m not a child,” she huffs.
I think about the letter from the bank. “Not for anyone okay?”
“Okay.”
Heart in my throat, I throw the door open and run down the stairs.
Jinx: How long are you going to resist me, New Girl? Or should I say Cadey? Redhead? A rose by so many names doth smell as sweet. Will your petals finally be plucked tonight?
