A phone rang somewhere in the house, and soft chatter she’d wrongly identified as rainfall clarified into women’s voices. She could hear two women talking on the front porch, fussing at the stuck lock, and sending the lightweight door flying into the living room wall. She shook Nick by the shoulder and whispered as loudly as she dared, “Someone’s here. Wake up!” He only stirred slightly.
Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.
Normally she’d care, even worry, that she couldn’t uncover a more suitable word to express herself and she was taking the lazy way out. But right now, who the fuck cared? Her jeans lay in a crumpled heap halfway across the room, which meant they were halfway to the door that might open any second. She jumped into her underpants, nabbed her T-shirt and bra from the foot of the bed, made a mad dash across the bedroom, and slid into her jeans. She didn’t bother waiting until she’d fought her way into her bra and T-shirt before renewing Nick wake-up duty. “Wake up now! We’re not alone!”
That did it. Nick scrambled into his clothes and yanked the comforter over the entire bed mess. Good, the phone had finally stopped ringing. One of the women must’ve answered the call. That should give them a few more much-needed minutes to figure out a plan. Even with their clothes on and the bed covered, the whole scene looked suspiciously rumpled. If her mother ever found her alone with a boy in her bedroom and the door closed, she’d send down a life sentence and ground her for life. Just for starters.
A tentative tap at the door sent Darcy into a panic. Already, her cheeks were burning. She could lie to her mother, but a stranger might not be so easy to fool.
“No biggie,” Nick whispered to her, and then headed across the room. “Just a minute! I accidentally locked the door.”
“Nicky, I’ve got a woman on the phone looking for her daughter?” Probably the woman speaking through the door wasn’t shouting, but it sure sounded that way, louder than the clash of thunder.
Nick opened the door, revealing a woman of indeterminable age—not really old, but worn out like a birthday balloon two days post party. The woman offered her the cordless receiver. “Darcy? Your mother’s on the phone.”
Quick, call 911. She was having a major heart attack.
Chapter 14
D
aughter Darcy was definitely off her game.
Home from Ever True Cemetery with Troy and Elle, rain-spattered and muddy, Laura had found Maggie meditating in the living room, and Laura had basked in the light of her peace. Until Laura had followed Troy upstairs and discovered her daughter missing, the evidence trail as troubling as her absence. In her haste, Darcy had left her underwear drawer open, revealing a twelve-count box of Trojans with only eleven remaining. To top it off, a lone joint had taken the place of the missing prophylactic. At least Darcy had taken protection.
Nick’s phone number had been even easier to find, dangling from Darcy’s fabric memo board, thumbing its nose at Laura.
Neener, neener.
When Laura had called, Nick’s mother, Hope, said she’d just gotten home. She hadn’t known Darcy was in her son’s bedroom, but she hadn’t seemed all that surprised, either.
Laura peered at the driveway through the distortion of antique glass, waiting for Nick to return her daughter. She would’ve driven across town to retrieve her daughter herself, but she wanted the two of them here, on her home turf. One look at them together would likely speak volumes.
“I am so sorry,” Maggie said, for the third or fourth time. “This is the last thing you need.”
“Not your fault,” Laura said. “She played me.”
Please don’t make me go to the cemetery. I need to remember Daddy
my way. Cue the tiny violins and Darcy’s pleading look. Cue the tears. Darcy didn’t want to explore her feelings about her father; she wanted to explore her boyfriend.
Laura couldn’t even wrap her mind around the idea of her fifteen-year-old daughter having sex. She prayed she’d get to the truth and Darcy’s little afternoon adventure wouldn’t produce any lasting consequences. Like a grandchild, for instance.
Tires ground into the wet driveway, and Elle handed Laura a cup of tension-tamer tea. Wiper blades whirred and cut out. An engine coughed to a halt. Laura took a sip of tea and burned the tip of her tongue.
“Sure you don’t want us to stay?” Elle asked, even though she likely knew the answer. Laura relied on her friends for moral support, but the kids she handled herself.
“I’m sure,” Laura said.
Maggie looked at her sideways.
“I promise not to harm the dear children, just make them squirm.”
“Wish I could stay for the show,” Elle said, and gave her a pat on the arm. Maggie and Elle ducked out the door, and then Elle popped back in. She held her forefinger and thumb up to her ear, the call-me sign, and Laura nodded.
Darcy slunk in the house first, Nick two steps behind. When Laura had spoken to Darcy on the phone, she’d told her to make sure Nick came in the house with her. She’d told Darcy she’d like to have a word with him. She’d told Darcy she was not pleased. She’d wanted to give Darcy and Nick something to chew on during the car ride home.
What she’d given them, she now realized, was time to co-ordinate their alibi.
“What happened?” Laura asked Darcy, and her daughter’s big eyes got even rounder.
“What do you mean?” Darcy pulled her head back, and twin pink splotches bloomed on her cheeks.
Dear Lord, give her strength. Laura wasn’t about to question Nick about what he and Darcy had done while they were alone at his house. That interrogation she’d save for Darcy. But her daughter’s instant embarrassment reminded Laura of how she’d sat in the front row of Professor Jack Klein’s class trying to hide the shame firing her cheeks.
Laura took a breath and reminded herself to exhale so she wouldn’t turn blue. “Let’s start from the beginning. Why did you sneak out of the house, today of all days?”
Darcy opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. Her gaze dropped to her untied sneakers. “I don’t know.”
Laura tried Nick. “Didn’t you know Darcy wasn’t supposed to leave the house? Didn’t you know she sneaked out of the house to be with you?”
His gaze darted to the ceiling, evading. He edged closer to Darcy till they stood arm to arm. Darcy straightened her spine. She peered from beneath her paintbrush lashes and tugged at a hairstyle that bore a striking resemblance to morning bed head.
Laura sighed and decided to play good cop. “I’m sorry, Nick, but if you encourage Darcy to go break house rules, I can’t allow her to see you.” She was bluffing, sort of. Nothing united a couple faster than having to sneak around behind people’s backs. That explained why she and Jack had invited Laura’s dorm mates and Jack’s colleagues to their wedding.
Nick shook his head, met Laura’s gaze, and the words gushed out of him. “She told me she had family stuff, but she didn’t have to go. I’m sorry, Mrs. Klein, really sorry. Honestly, I didn’t know.”
Laura squinted at Nick, decided he was lying his ass off to try and save Darcy’s. He had to have known her family was busy visiting her father’s grave while she was busy, well, getting her hair rumpled.
“This cannot happen ever again. No sneaking out. And for goodness sake, the two of you,” she said, shifting her gaze between Darcy and Nick. “No lying.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Darcy muttered.
“Darcy Ann!”
Darcy jostled, as if she hadn’t realized what she was doing. Her lying had become that automatic.
“Do we understand each other?” Laura asked Nick.
“Yes, ma’am. No sneaking out and no lying,” he parroted. At least the boy could memorize rules. Only time would tell whether he’d any intention of following them.
“You can leave.”
Nick turned to Darcy, and his gaze went hazy, as though he thought he could kiss her good-bye.
Laura opened the door for Nick. “Right now.”
A look passed between Nick and Darcy in place of a good-bye kiss, and Nick stepped out the door into the afternoon drizzle. His on-its-last-legs-looking car started on the first try and screeched from the driveway, no doubt leaving a nice deep rut.
“Upstairs, please.” Laura took Darcy by the shoulders and turned her around.
Darcy brushed off her hands. “Don’t touch me,” Darcy said, and Laura spoke without thinking, entirely from her bruised heart: “You’re grounded.”
“What else is new?”
That wasn’t fair. Laura only grounded Darcy when she’d broken one of her many reasonable rules, each and every one set up to keep her daughter safe. She didn’t like grounding her daughter. It had been nearly nine months since Darcy’s punishment for the skinny-dipping incident.
Laura paused on the stairway to regain her composure. Breathe in, breathe out. She caught up with Darcy in her bedroom, shutting her underwear drawer. “I’ve already found your stash,” Laura said. “The joint, I got rid of, but I left all of the condoms. Minus the one that’s missing.”
Darcy bit at her lower lip and reached past Laura to swipe a lip gloss from her dresser top. She wrenched off the cap and smeared wild cherry–flavored gloss across her lips.
“Angel . . .” Laura began, even though the angel-Darcy from last night was nowhere to be found. Long ago, Maggie, mother to three grown daughters, had warned Laura about the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde stage teenage girls went through. Laura never really believed it would happen to her daughter until Mr. Hyde had smacked her upside the head.
Laura sat on the edge of Darcy’s unmade bed. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
Darcy capped the lip gloss, mashed her lips together, and set it back on the dresser.
“Look, I realize you like Nick, and he certainly seems like he’s fond of you. I just don’t want you doing something you’ll regret. And no matter how smart you are—” She caught Darcy’s attention. “No matter how smart, you simply cannot make an informed decision if you’re stoned.”
Darcy couldn’t hide the sneer in her voice. “We weren’t stoned.”
“I’m very glad to hear that,” Laura said. “So something happened? Darcy, do you need to see a doctor?”
Darcy’s gaze flashed on Laura. She gathered the scatter of books from her floor and stomped over to her bookcase, arranged the books into a tidy stack of five.
Either Laura’s question had lighted on the truth or she’d pissed Darcy off with the intrusion. Laura shuddered a sigh. She was about to bargain with God and toss up a prayer to keep Darcy safe from Jack’s risk-taking gene, when her mind picture turned on a dime into an image of her teenage self. She’d offered herself to Jack, as though her virginity were a jacket she’d outgrown. One heedless act had changed the course of her entire life. She didn’t regret it. How could she? But she’d be damned if she let Darcy follow her example on this one.
Using a boy’s attention as a substitute for her father’s love could only lead to further heartache. Laura should know. “Were you
intimate
with Nick?”
Expressionless, Darcy just stared at her mother. It must’ve killed her not to respond to Laura’s word choice.
Okay then. “I don’t want you to have sex before you’re ready. At least not until you’ve graduated from high school. Although I’d prefer college graduation as a precursor, I’m a realist.”
This claim earned a snort from her daughter.
“You’re too young, Darcy, and having sex doesn’t make you mature. If anything, it messes up the process.”
Darcy knelt, picked up a pair of jeans from the floor, and found a neighboring hanger.
Laura went to Darcy, got down to her level, and stroked her cheek with the back of her hand. She gazed at a girl hell-bent on rushing headlong into womanhood and saw herself in her daughter’s eyes. For a moment, Laura thought Darcy might speak. Instead, she brushed at the spot where her mother had touched her face.
Just like her father. Jack wouldn’t listen to Laura’s sage advice, either. No, he’d nod and smile, and then do whatever the heck he pleased as soon as he got the chance.
Laura stood. She rubbed at the grass stains spoiling the knees of her slacks—evidence of where she’d knelt by Jack’s grave, seeking closure. It made sense that at Ever True Cemetery, she’d felt an almost imperceptible lightening. Jack’s body rested in peace. But what remained of the stubborn as hell facet of her husband’s spirit was sitting on the floor, pretending to sort her wash and stonewalling like a pro.
Chapter 15
T
en past two on Friday usually meant the beginning of the Darcy party: free time and friends. Instead, today’s end of D block bell would usher in her first full weekend of grounding. Two entire days stuck with her family, no friends allowed, practically constituted abuse.
Vanessa bounced by Darcy’s seat, depositing a scrunched-up note into her hand. What was wrong with her? Darcy had told her she was grounded for sneaking out with Nick and getting caught in his room, so she couldn’t hang out after school. Loudmouth turned Queen of Nosey had stared at her and Nick throughout lunch period. Her entire table of look-alike Vanessa Wannabes took turns ogling them, giving Darcy the big-time creeps. Nick, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the attention, making a show of feeding her black olives until the memory of his naked body made her chest ache.
Darcy slipped the note beneath her desk, unfolded the crumpled paper, and read Vanessa’s oversized scribble:
Give it up, Darcy! Did you and Nick do it or what?
Darcy’s smile started at her lips and flooded the rest of her body. That was for her to know and Vanessa to never find out. Let the pervert imagine whatever she liked. This morning, Vanessa had asked Darcy if she and Nick had enjoyed the box of condoms she’d given Darcy along with the ridiculous cucumber demonstration. Amazing how a few well-chosen words uttered during first period could crack Vanessa’s teeny-tiny brain.
Vanessa turned around in her seat, looked over her shoulder, and made sure Darcy watched her doing Vanessa’s favorite pantomime. Eyes partway closed like a blind mole, she scrunched her face and pushed a shiny drop of spittle through pursed lips. For the first time ever, Vanessa’s imitation of a penis erupting made Darcy’s cheeks burn. Vanessa was getting way too personal, guessing at what had happened between her and Nick and simultaneously making fun of it. Nearly as mortifying as her mother’s useless sex lecture.
Darcy clutched the strap of her backpack and angled a foot into the aisle. She zoned out the office announcements squeezing through the tinny intercom and stared up at the clock’s fat black numbers until the trill of the bell put her out of her Vanessa misery. Darcy jumped from her seat and flew past the desks, then race-walked through the traffic-clogged hallway and burst out of the front of the school doors. She leaned against a concrete pillar, gazing up into the cloudless sky until the familiar scent of tropical fruit came up behind her.
“What’s with you? I called your name, and you kept going.” Heather unfastened a crooked purple hair clip, pulling her perfectly straight blond hair into the kind of smooth curve Darcy could never manage with her wild hair. Welcome to the land of excess. Boobs too big, hips too wide, legs too long for pants that otherwise fit her just right. Darcy and her best friend stood at the exact same height, but Heather was the only one who looked like a Barbie doll.
“So when are you off grounding?” Heather clicked her barrette into place, and a second wave of tropical conditioner scent rolled over Darcy. Mangos, pineapples, and an endnote of coconut.
“Sunday night.”
Heather groaned. “But that’s, like,
after
the weekend. I really, really need to talk to you now.” Heather’s eyes darted to the side.
“Uh, what are we doing now, if not talking?”
Heather sighed. “You sit with Nick at lunch. Whenever we meet at your locker, he pops up, like he’s a stalker or something.” She peered over her shoulder. “Okay, I wasn’t going to say anything, but I get a really bad feeling from him. He’s kind of scary.”
“Uh-huh.” Darcy thought Nick was kind of sweet, and Heather was totally jealous.
A hand from nowhere tickled Darcy’s waist. She squealed, and Nick jumped out from behind the pillar.
“See what I mean?” Heather said.
Nick ignored Heather’s glare. He hugged Darcy as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks, even nibbled at her neck. “Ready to roll?”
“I gotta go. I’m in serious trouble if I don’t get back on time.” Darcy mouthed,
Sorry.
Heather didn’t know Nick the way she did. She hadn’t seen his sensitive side.
“I’m parked down the road.” Nick wrapped his arm around her shoulder and turned her away from Heather.
Mom never allowed phone privileges during grounding, but Darcy usually managed to sneak in a call or two when her mother went to bed, her after-hours calling plan.
Darcy leaned around Nick and yelled to Heather. “I’ll call you after hours! Okay, LU?”
LU
, their secret code for
Love you.
Heather instantly brightened. “Right back at you, sister!”
“Could you call me after hours, too?” Nick asked.
He was so clever, picking up on her little get-around-grounding trick. “Sure thing,” she said.
Nick snatched up her hand and swung it between them as they squeezed down the narrow sidewalk lining the busy road. “She’s got it in for me, you know.”
“Heather? I don’t think so.” Heather was feeling left out, but what could Darcy do? Heather knew the drill. Whenever one of them was seeing a boy, their friendship took a backseat. They’d agreed on it years ago.
Next week, she’d figure out a girls-only day, plan on some shopping therapy—try on spring clothes they couldn’t afford, test body butters, and gobble up ice-cream sundaes. Oh, and she couldn’t forget looking for the right prom dress. A color and cut that would show off her body, but keep within the school dress code would definitely prove a challenge. Maybe she could even convince Heather to go to the prom, too. Note to self: find out if Stevie was still looking for a prom date. Getting ready for a big dance with her best friend, helping each other with hair and makeup, was almost as much fun as the event. Almost as much fun as going with her best friend to the ladies’ room and talking about their dates.
The middle school track team ran down the street, Troy waving at her in his usual village idiot way. He looked normal on the outside, but next week Daddy’s shrink would look inside of him to decide whether last Friday night’s fit meant Troy was more like Daddy than she was. According to Mom, getting Troy an appointment with Super Shrink within ten days of her phone call evidenced a major miracle. Darcy waved like a fool, right back at her lucky little brother.
Nick opened his car’s passenger door. Two spaces down the row a metallic orange Element backed out, jam-packed with boys Darcy recognized but didn’t really know. In sync, windows rolled down and masculine voices called out, as if rehearsed. “Darcy!”
She giggled and held her hand up to wave.
Nick stepped in front of her and waved using only one finger.
The Element stopped right next to them, and the driver, Jared, a boy she’d talked to a few times at parties, hung his head out the window, dark blond hair covering his eyes. “Hey, chill out, dude!”
Nick marched to the driver’s window. “You talking to me?”
“Yeah, I’m talking to you! I said chill—”
Nick whacked the windshield with both hands. “Get out of the car!”
Darcy froze, and her stomach plunged into her socks. She thought of Daddy eating lasagna once. Three uneventful bites, and he’d Frisbee-tossed his plate across the room, beheading a bouquet of pink peonies before gouging the wall.
She thought of Troy’s out of nowhere dinner fit.
This was not happening.
Jared’s car edged backward. “What’s your problem?”
“Get out of the fucking car!”
“Nick, stop,” Darcy said, but her high-pitched voice barely rose above a whisper.
Nick grabbed the top of the driver’s window, and it started rolling up. He jogged backward alongside the car, jerked his fingers out of the way at the last possible moment. Wheels squealed, and the Element hightailed it down the road, deep voices yelling at Nick.
Darcy ducked into the Monte Carlo, trying to catch her breath, as though she’d run alongside Jared’s car, dangling from the window, too. Her T-shirt stuck under her arms, and she pulled at the fabric. She was shell-shocked and paranoid. Everyone wasn’t bipolar, like her father. Everyone got angry, right? Anger was normal.
Nick went around to his side and slipped behind the wheel. He slammed his door. He kneaded the leather steering wheel cover. Glared through the windshield. A faint mist of sweat beaded on his upper lip.
“What was that about?” she asked, and her lips tingled.
“I don’t like them looking at you.” Nick turned his glare on Darcy, and her chest flushed. “And I don’t like you flirting with them.”
“I wasn’t.” She couldn’t think of what she’d done, other than wave. Nick had once said he wasn’t good at sharing, but this seemed over the top jealous. Still, she couldn’t help feeling a thrill at his possessiveness, as if she were a girl worth fighting for.
“Damn!” Nick whacked the steering wheel, and she startled. “You don’t get it,” he said. “Do you think they’re your friends?”
Darcy stared at Nick, his wide-eyed intensity, and her hand edged toward the door handle. Sure, anger was normal, but was Nick?
Nick’s mouth edged into a sneer, and he shook his head. “Do you think they just wanna hang out with you? You think they just wanna talk?”
A few months ago, she’d heard rumors Jared had said she had a good personality. He thought she was pretty, too. But he’d never asked her out, never—
“They want to
do
you, Darcy. You know what I’m saying?” Nick clenched his jaw. His gaze slid away from her, and that scared her more than his outburst.
If she’d heard the nice rumors about Jared, then he must’ve heard the not-nice rumors about her. That explained why he’d never asked her out and why a whole carload of boys she barely knew had called her name.
Nick, on the other hand, knew for sure the rumors about her weren’t true, and he still wanted to go out with her.
Darcy touched his cheek, then turned his face so she could see his eyes, and his expression softened. That’s right, her sweet Nick.
“That stuff, that stuff I told you about my folks, about my dad. That’s just between us, okay? I don’t go around telling people my life story.” Nick’s pupils reflected two identical Darcy pictures, like black-and-white arcade photos.
Darcy knew about keeping secrets. Secrets meant love. She nodded and swallowed twice. “Your secret’s safe with me.” She found his lips, that familiar hard bite of cinnamon sweetness, and sighed into his mouth, but Nick wouldn’t smile.
Darcy remembered something Nick had tried to give her months ago. She remembered the look on his face when she’d turned him down. He was wearing that look right now.
Darcy took off one of the diamond earrings that never left her ears and pushed it to the bottom of her pocket. She unhooked Nick’s gold hoop and snapped it onto her naked earlobe. Nick nodded, and a smile flooded his face, the look that meant he thought she was special.
Slowly, he backed the car from the spot. Darcy fastened her seat belt across her chest. Her hand wandered to her earlobe, and she traced the hoop’s curve, the not-Daddy shape. Back in third grade, another girl’s dad had died in a head-on collision with an elderly driver going the wrong way on 101. Darcy had barely known the classmate, but she’d cried for a week, along with the rest of the town.
Darcy stared straight ahead, slid her sunglasses from her backpack and onto her face. She couldn’t let Nick see tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t explain what she didn’t understand. She could understand missing someone who’d died by accident.
But how could you miss someone who’d left you on purpose?