Star’s going back to school. She’s going to make something of herself. And I’ll be just some distant memory of a loser she took pity on for a summer. She’ll move on.
And I’ll be here, in Avenue, missing her. I don’t know how I’m going to get over her, or if I ever will. It’s not like I have any better prospects coming along. Star’s one in a fucking million. Even if I manage to find another girl around here who’s willing to give me a shot, chances are she’ll be just like my ex, who fucking ripped my heart out. And then stomped on it for good measure.
Bitch. Way to kick a guy when he’s down.
“Here you go,” Maisie says, handing me a packed-full paper bag. “Ten eighty-nine.”
I take the bag from her and hand over the money. Maybe I should have taken up Star’s offer of paying me last night. I’m almost out of cash.
Maisie turns to the cash register beside her, ringing me through as I tilt my head down and start digging through the pocket of my jeans, trying to take stock of what’s left of my money by feel alone. Considering all I can feel is coins, I’m going to go with not fucking much.
“Um,” she says, her voice so soft I nearly miss it. “Um, I think you need to go outside. Like, right now.”
Fanfuckingtastic, I think. Another one. I can’t believe I thought she’d be any different than the rest.
“What is it?” I sigh. “Suddenly realize who you’re talking to?” I’ve had enough of this shit.
“No,” she says, and her head’s shaking so fast it looks like it’s going to fly right off her shoulders. Her eyes are huge behind her black-framed glasses. She lifts up a hand and points over my shoulder. “It’s your car.”
There’s a crash behind me and I whirl around and look.
Jesus.
I drop the doggie bag on the counter and sprint out the front door.
It’s the asshole who called me a killer that day in the diner, the day Star and I met. And he’s got a fucking bat.
And he’s using it on my goddamn car!
***
“Hey,” I say, afterward, keeping my voice low as I speak into the pay phone’s receiver. “It’s me.”
“Ash?” And there must be something in my voice that gives me away, because Star’s voice goes from sleepy-rumpled-sheets-come-back-to-bed-baby one second to danger-danger-high-alert the next. “What’s going on?” she asks, and I can hear the sounds of her getting out of bed and moving around the room. “Why are you calling? How are you calling? I thought you didn’t have a phone.”
“Yeah,” I say. “I don’t. Look . . . ” I let out a long sigh and squeeze my eyes shut. This fucking sucks. “I’m gonna need you to pick me up.”
Chapter 13
Ash
“I can’t fucking believe this!” Star says as we near the house. “I mean, who the hell would do that? And why the hell didn’t anyone stop them?” She slams her palms down on the steering wheel so hard that I start to worry she’s going to hurt herself. “What the fuck is wrong with this town?”
“Look,” I say as the car pulls to a stop—a little harder than normal, but I get it, she’s pissed. I am, too. I reach out and grab her wrist gently, pulling her hand away from the wheel before she can attack it again, and before I realize what I’m doing, I have our fingers linked together, and I’m squeezing her hand. I freeze for a second, afraid I’ve crossed a line, but after a beat she’s squeezing back. “They’re assholes. But it’s . . . whatever. It’s fine. I’ll deal. I always do.”
“Fuck,” she mutters, and lets her head fall back against the headrest. Her eyes close and she’s silent for a minute. It should be awkward as hell, but for some reason it’s not. It’s . . . nice.
“It’s okay.” I tell her, even though I have no idea what I’m going to do without my car. It was all I had left, and now it’s busted and broken, and everything I own is covered in little pebbles of glass. The guy from the tow truck had just kind of shaken his head at me when I asked him if he thought it could be salvaged and my shoulders had sagged. His answer had been written all over his face.
Not with your kind of money, it can’t. Fuck.
Star had wanted me to call the cops, get those assholes hauled in, but what was the point? It’s not like I’d be any better off. I’d just draw more attention to myself, and with the way things are going, it’s not like it would do any good. Somehow it’d just get twisted around, be all my fault, and with my luck I’d end up back in prison, having violated some part of my parole. It sucked, but I was dealing with it. In my own screwed-up way.
Which was to say really fucking badly.
I’ve never felt so out of my goddamn depth in my life.
“No. It’s not,” she says, and opens her eyes to look straight at me. I shift in my seat, but I don’t look away. Even though it feels like she’s looking straight down to my damn soul, I don’t look away. If anyone has earned the right to see it, it’s this girl. “It’s not okay. This entire town is just so messed up . . . ” She sighs. “The only good thing that’s happened since I got back is that I met you.” Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her, but her words warm something inside me, something that’s been dead and cold for a long time.
“Come on,” she says, dropping my hand and unbuckling her seat belt. She snags her purse from its home in the space by my feet. “Let’s go inside. The sunlight is killing me.”
A snort escapes me before I can stop it. No wonder she’s pissed. She’s hungover as fuck. I chuckle and try to suppress the smile that’s threatening to break free. Hearing me, she turns and glares, but after a few seconds she cracks and starts smiling. Then we both start laughing.
“Shut up,” she says, reaching over and whapping me gently on the arm before swinging open her door and getting out. “My head’s about to explode.”
Still laughing a little, I unbuckle myself and follow.
We’re halfway up the path when I see it, and a smile spreads across my face. A real one this time. I nudge Star with my elbow.
“Hey,” I say, nodding toward the porch. “It looks like you got another present.”
She turns to me, brow furrowing for an instant, before she turns back to look in the direction I’m jerking my chin toward.
There, on the porch, is another box wrapped in brown paper.
***
“I can’t believe her,” Star says as I drop the box onto the kitchen table. “She must have dropped it off this morning before they left town. I must have missed it when I left to pick you up.” And that doesn’t shock me one bit, the way she’d peeled into the diner’s parking lot with fire in her eyes after I called her. I’m amazed she saw anything but red.
The box itself isn’t that heavy. She could have carried it herself. But really, anything I can do to help out at this point, I’m going to do. Especially since Star ended up having to pay to get my car towed out of the diner’s parking lot. She’d been all apologetic, like somehow this was her fault for not having paid me yet, which is bullshit. Nothing that has happened to me is on her shoulders. Nothing.