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Maybe we should’ve seen it coming. I missed it.
“Hey.” Kade ruffles my hair like he would a little cousin. “I’m just worried about you, okay?” He lowers his voice. “Men in those scenes won’t treat you right. I don’t want you around that shit.”
I gaze over at him, my anger softening. He said it quietly, because it was hard for him to say at all. I wish he was like that more.
But then he notices something on his fingers and scrunches up his face, looking at where he touched my head as he wipes his hand on his jeans. “Is that mud?”
I must’ve missed a spot.
I lower my eyes to my lap, instead asking, “Do you ever watch me ride?”
I don’t know where the question came from, but it just occurred to me.
“What?” he asks.
I look at him, his blond hair always styled like a vintage Ralph Lauren ad, and the blush across his cheeks making his skin look more golden than it actually is. He looks like that all the time now, with the weather being crisp and him outside as much as possible.
“When I used to race the Loop in my car,” I explain. “Did you watch?”
His mouth opens and closes as he faces the road, and he finally shrugs. “Yeah.” He nods. “Yeah, of course, I’ve seen you race. Why would you ask that?”
He never watches. He shows up, mingles at the track, sneaks beers behind the merch tents with his friends….
I have to watch his games. He never watches me ride.
He turns up the music, and I look out the window, trees flying past as their leaves rain down around us.
Kade, Hawke, my father… My senior year should be incredible, but my throat feels as narrow as a straw.
Moonlight gleams across the river down below to my right, and I peer out the window, over the cliff, to the sparse lights of Weston. Silos from abandoned mills rise high in the black sky, while the occasional old lamp around a warehouse still glows. A light will pop on up on a hill or in some alley, while others will fizz out, and I smile to myself because Aro explained they’re motion activated. Security lights to keep delinquents from invading private property or deserted businesses. She brought me out here one night to watch the movement of the constant illegal invaders as they leave a trail of motion-activated lights in their wake. It was kind of funny, because not once, no matter how brightly they broadcasted their presence in places they weren’t supposed to be, I never saw one blue or red light of a cop car.
Kade stops the truck in the middle of the three-way intersection. St. Matthew’s heads toward us from the road ahead, and Weston will come over the bridge to our right. There won’t be any other cars this time of night.
Leaving the engine running and the headlights on, he opens his door. “Let’s go,” he tells us.
Players from St. Matthew’s, the wealthy suburb of Chicago and Hunter’s school for the past year, walk to meet us, while Stoli, Dirk, and I flank Kade. Jessica stays in the truck.
“Kade Caruthers.” Beck Valencourt grins, walking over with his crew. “How’s it going over in Shitburne Falls?”
Kade laughs. “You know who my grandfather is, right? They would never find your body.”
Beck flashes him a genuine smile—knowing of Kade’s retired gangster grandpa and the stories surrounding him. He’s used to Kade’s jibe. They know each other well, and they better not be giving us Beck as a prisoner, because Kade and he will be frat bros in a year. Kade won’t want to haze him, and I enjoy that part of Rivalry Week, actually.
School-sanctioned bullying? Why not? It’s the one time everyone at your school is finally on the same side. The enemy of my enemy is my friend…
They shake, coming in for a quick hug.
“Will we see you on the slopes this year?” Beck asks him.
“You bet.” Kade nods. “Iron Mountain.”
“Hell yeah.”
Kade glances over at the St. Matthew’s cars parked opposite ours. I look, too, searching the profiles of the people inside.
“I can try to accommodate your request,” Beck says, holding out his hands. “You just can’t have my girlfriend.”
Kade chuckles. “Actually, I just want a football player.”
