CHAPTER 14

BITE POINT

Lex is too quiet when she picks me up on Friday morning. Her smudged eye liner looks darker today because of the shadows under her eyes. Maybe she’s still fighting with Abel.

Or he’s buying a hundred scratch-off lottery tickets.

It’s hard to put any distance between us when Lex drives me around every day. All this time together makes me realize how much I’ve missed her. But hanging out with Lex and Abel also reminds me of the girl I want to leave behind and the boy who is already gone. The four of us did so many things together, even before I started dating Noah. Separating all those memories—searching for the ones that don’t include Noah or pretending he wasn’t part of them—feels impossible.

Maintaining that distance is what keeps me from asking her what’s wrong right away. I could check my e-mail and delete some from Mom, or bitch about Dad until we get to school. But it’s hard to ignore Lex when I know she’s hurting. She is still my best friend.

Lex stops at an intersection and glances to the right. Her beautiful blue eyes will always remind me of Noah’s.

“Want to tell me what’s wrong?” I finally ask.

She props her elbow on the lip above the door panel and rests her head in her hand. “It would take less time to tell you what’s right.”

“Does it have anything to do with Abel? You never finished telling me what happened over the summer or how you ended up sleeping at his house.” Lex and Abel have been crazy about each other since eighth grade. But she was the one who didn’t want to cross the line.

“I crashed over there a lot. You weren’t around, and his mom is always out of town sharing her insights about Tommy Ryder and his Golden Fingers, so it was just Abel and me.” She makes it sound like I was on a trip instead of avoiding them. “We got closer.”

I turn toward her. “How much closer?”

Lex turns into the parking lot, and I fight the urge to look for Marco in Lot B. She shrugs.

“Did you two get together?” Aside from the occasional drunken kiss, nothing has ever happened between them. Lex says it’s not worth risking their friendship. Abel says she’s just scared. Did things go a little further this time?

As we cross over into Lot A, I take a quick look in the side mirror.

No sign of Marco.

I focus on Lex again. “Well?”

“Yes. And it was obviously a mistake.” The moment she says it, I spot Abel’s Land Cruiser.

Lex pulls into a parking space and practically jumps out of the car. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

I do.

Abel jogs toward the Fiat as I get out. He cuts her off before she makes it very far. “Come on, Lex. How long are you going to stay mad?”

She glares at him. “I don’t know. How long are you going to keep lying and gambling?”

He facepalms his forehead. “It was one night. I haven’t been back to V Street since…”

“The other night when you dragged me and Frankie down there to get manhandled?” She tries to circle around Abel, and he reaches for her arm. She jerks away. “Don’t!”

Lex makes a beeline for the quad, leaving me with Abel.

“You’d better tell me what you’ve been doing.” I jab his chest. “Because I’ve never seen her like this.”

Abel crosses and uncrosses his arms. “I made a few bets over the summer. Horse races and a couple of boxing matches—nothing big. But it freaked Lex out, and I promised to stop.”

“And you didn’t.”

He nods.

“Horse racing and boxing? Nothing else?” It’s the kind of question Dad asks me when he already knows the answer—a test to see if I’ll tell him the truth.

“That’s all, except for the race I bet on the other night.” He scratches the back of his neck, a textbook sign of lying. “Will you talk to her for me?”

“No.” I push past him and speed-walk toward the admin building.

Abel keeps up. “Frankie—”

I stop at the edge of the sidewalk. “Did you forget about the sixty scratch-offs, or whatever ridiculous number it was?”

“I thought you meant placing bets.”

“Come talk to me when you’re done lying.” I leave him standing there.

As I walk up the steps, I see Marco on the quad. He’s leaning against a tree not far from where Abel and I were talking. He sees me watching him, and our eyes meet for a second before I get caught in the current of students pouring into the building.

* * *

Cruz isn’t in English, so it’s more boring than usual, and I don’t have a pen until halfway through the period. When the bell rings, Mrs. Hellstrom collects our journals. I’m one of the first people out the door after I mumble something about leaving mine at home.

In the hall, I turn the corner and spot Cruz standing against the wall.

She falls in step next to me. “How was class?”

“Boring. Did you ditch?” It doesn’t seem like the kind of question that will offend her.

“No, I had to take my little sister Teresa to urgent care before school. She has asthma.”

“Is she okay?”

“She just needed a new inhaler. So are you ready for Shop?”

I shrug. “There are too many different screwdrivers or whatever you call them.”

She laughs. “Socket wrenches. And you’re gonna need to learn the names of the tools and how to use them if you want to pass. Chief takes cars seriously.” Like Cruz does—a girl who can hold her own, both in Shop and behind the wheel.

How would it feel to be that confident?

“Why does everyone call him Chief?”

“He was a crew chief on the NASCAR circuit for twenty years. One day, he just left. Walked away and came back here.”

“What happened? Did he get hurt?”

“No. Someone else did,” Cruz stares straight ahead, distracted. She notices me watching her and snaps out of it. “I mean, nobody knows. Just rumors.”

The conversation about Chief is clearly over. Not that I blame her. I hate the thought of people talking about him.

Cruz stops at a locker near the stairs and grabs her books.

Two girls across the hall are looking at us.

“Next to Cruz,” a pasty redhead across the hall whispers. She’s wearing the kind of glittery eye shadow that most girls only wear at night. “Her boyfriend was that guy who got killed in the parking lot of the Sugar Factory in the Heights.”