Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Her lip will heal.
Her life will go on.
She’s popular.
Desired.
About to go to college.
And everything about her life will be charmed and perfect.
Because nothing about Aro Marquez’s life will be. She knows that no matter how many times or how hard she kicks, people like Schuyler have the last laugh. Aro knows she’s invisible.
I glance over again, just slightly, studying the burn on her left hand. It peeks out of the cuff of her hoodie, the pinky dark and the skin rough, the injury covering the entire finger and spreading over half of the back of her hand like something that spilled on it and stained.
I want to ask her what happened, but I close my mouth instead. That conversation is for people who trust each other. She’ll just get defensive.
I pull onto the dirt road, leading to the Loop, immediately pressing the brake to slow.
“You’ll tell the rest of them I’m allowed here?” Tommy asks.
The car rocks over the uneven terrain, and I meet the kid’s gaze in the rearview mirror. Her eyes are big and round, and I feel like she’s going to hide behind me the whole time.
But I nod anyway. “Yeah.”
I know why she’s scared, and she should be. Not that it’s her fault, but she’ll be in high school in another year, and it’s about to get worse. She needs to start fighting.
Aro looks back at Tommy and then at me, tucking her hands into her pockets. “Is it because she’s poor?”
What? I shake my head. “Gimme a break.”
“Then what is it?” she presses. “Why is she the one Falls girl not welcome in the Falls?”
It’s complicated. And not worth explaining.
But most people know it has nothing to do with the kid. She’s just the casualty of a situation that started when our parents were in high school with her father.
When I don’t answer, Aro starts mumbling under her breath in Spanish, loud enough for me to hear and assuming I don’t know she’s talking shit about my family and me.
I ignore it.
“It’s so bright,” Tommy says, smiling as she looks into the distance beyond the trees.
It’s just after noon, but the lights under the cloudy sky make it look like a carnival. Has Tommy ever been here? Her dad used to race here, but since my family now owns it, he doesn’t step foot on the property.
“How many tracks are there?” Aro asks.
“Four.” I pull into a secluded area between two trees. “Back in the day, it was all just dirt. My uncles will barely show up anymore now that it’s so different.”
I would’ve loved to have seen it back when it was new. Back when it was dangerous. Illegal.
“They say it’s because they’re too old. ‘It’s time to let new blood rule’, but I think they just couldn’t deal with saying goodbye to a place they loved. They prefer to remember it like it was.”
“But your dad changed it,” Tommy points out. “Are they mad at him?”
I smile. “No, kid.” I glance up at her in the mirror. “Everything changes. That’s how the world works. People change. Communities change. And you have to change with it. Just because it was the right way for one group of people doesn’t mean it’s right for everyone for all of eternity. My uncles know that.”
I turn off the car, pulling my wallet and phone out of the console. “We learn. We change. We grow. If you don’t grow, you die.”
I close the sunroof and move to get out of the car, but everything is too quiet. I look over, seeing Aro watching me.
What? What did I say?
I shake my head, remembering better than to initiate a conversation that will just end up making my head hurt. “Slouching is bad for your back,” I point out, eyeing her posture. “It strains your spinal discs.”
Something happens to her face—the creases between her eyes soften and her lips move.
Is she smiling? I turn away, climbing out of the car.
“Why are we doing this?” she calls out. “I mean, I’m not excited to go back to that secret chamber either and be bored out of my mind while you continue to critique my posture, but we shouldn’t be here.” She and Tommy exit the car and meet me back by the trunk. “Your dad will be here,” she points out. “He’ll interfere. Not to mention, you’re the class president, son of a semi-famous writer, and what…six foot three? You don’t blend in.”
Six-one.
And she’s right.
But my parents need to see me, and I…
“Everyone has a camera phone and then there’s the drones,” she goes on. “What if we’re spotted? What if they follow us back to the hideout?”
I open up the trunk, digging out the hoodies left over from skiing last winter. That was the last time I used his car. I toss a blue one to her and take a red one, and then I grab three face masks and dole out one to Tommy and then to her.