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She wasn’t naive about drugs. Some of her friends smoked pot, a few did cocaine or ecstasy, and one even had a nasty meth habit. Everyone but her drank on the weekends. Every club and party she went to offered easy access to all of it. Still, it seemed that whenever her friends smoked or drank or popped the pills they swore made the evening worthwhile, they’d spend the rest of the night slurring their words or staggering or vomiting or losing control completely and doing something really stupid. Something usually involving a guy.
Ro
When she reached the pier, Ro
Great.
She wished the guy had rammed into someone else. She was only there for what, ten minutes? What were the odds that she’d turn away at the same instant the ball came flying her way? And that she’d be holding a soda in a crowd at a volleyball game she didn’t even want to watch, in a place she didn’t want to be? In a million years, the same thing could probably never happen again. With odds like that, she should have bought a lottery ticket.
And then there was the guy who did it. Brown-haired, brown-eyed cute guy. Up close, she realized he was way better looking than cute, especially when he got that expression of… concern. He might have been part of the popular crowd, but in the nanosecond their eyes had met, she’d had the strangest sense that he was as real as they came.
Ro
She froze, staring down at her shirt in disbelief. You’ve got to be kidding.
Standing before her was a girl her age holding a Slurpee, seemingly as surprised as she was. She was dressed in black, and her stringy dark hair hung in unruly curls framing her face. Like Kayla, she had at least half a dozen piercings in each ear, highlighted with a couple of miniature skulls that dangled from her earlobes, and her dark eye shadow and eyeliner gave her an almost feral appearance. As the remains of her soda soaked through Ro
“Sucks being you,” she said.
“Ya think?”
“At least the other side matches now.”
“Oh, I get it. You’re trying to be fu
“‘Witty’ is more like it.”
“Then you might have said something like ‘Maybe you should stick with sippy-cups.’”
Goth-chick laughed, a surprisingly girlish sound. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“No, I’m from New York. I’m here visiting my dad.”
“For the weekend?”
“No. For the summer.”
“It does suck being you.”
This time, it was Ro
“Call me Blaze.”
“Blaze?”
“My real name’s Galadriel. It’s from Lord of the Rings. My mom’s weird like that.”
“At least she didn’t name you Gollum.”
“Or Ro
“Nemo?”
“Yeah, Nemo. From the movie? Orange-and-white fish, gimpy flipper? Gets stuck in a fish tank and his dad goes to find him?”
“I don’t want a Nemo shirt, okay?”
“Nemo’s cool.”
“Maybe if you’re six,” Ro
“Suit yourself.”
Before Ro
“What did you spill on your shirt?” he asked. “You’re all wet and sticky.”
Ro
“I can’t. Dad’s looking for you. I think he wants you to come home.”
“Where is he?”
“He stopped to go to the bathroom, but he should be here any minute.”
“Tell him you didn’t see me.”
Jonah thought about it. “Five bucks.”
“What?”
“Gimme five bucks and I’ll forget you were here.”
“Are you serious?”
“You don’t have much time,” he said. “Now it’s ten bucks.”
Over Jonah’s head, she spotted her dad searching the crowd around him. Instinctively she ducked, knowing there was no way she could sneak past him. She glared at her brother, the blackmailer, who’d obviously realized it as well. He was cute and she loved him and she respected his blackmailing abilities, but still, he was her little brother. In a perfect world, he would be on her side. But was he? Of course not.
“I hate you, you know,” she said.
“Yeah, I hate you, too. But it’s still go
“How about five?”
“You missed your chance. But your secret will be safe with me.”
Her dad still hadn’t seen them, but he was getting closer.
“Fine,” she hissed, digging through her pockets. She passed over a crumpled bill and Jonah pocketed the money. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her father moving in her direction, his head still going from side to side, and she ducked around the booth. Surprising her, Blaze was leaning against the side of the booth, smoking a cigarette.
She smirked. “Problems with your dad?”
“How do I get out of here?”
“That’s up to you.” Blaze shrugged. “But he knows what shirt you’re wearing.”
An hour later, Ro
Talking about those places made her absolutely long to be back home instead of here. Anywhere but here.
“I wouldn’t have wanted to come here either,” Blaze agreed. “Trust me. It’s boring.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Just my whole life. But at least I’m dressed okay.”
Ro