Losing Romeo (2 page)

Chapter Two

The words “irresponsible,” “stupid,” and “grounded-for-life” had been fired at Rosaline on a continuous loop that obviously wasn’t winding down anytime soon. Mom’s face was tear-streaked; Dad’s was red with anger.

That was what happened when your parents got called to the police station to get their only daughter. The high had worn off about thirty minutes before their arrival. A tiny barred holding cell was quite sobering, and Mom’s and Dad’s disappointed expressions sucked the rest of her former happiness right out of her. Sitting in the loveseat across from them, listening to the pain and sorrow in their voices, she felt about two inches tall.

“…cause permanent damage,” Mom said, taking a moment to dab her eyes with her wadded tissue.

Rosaline dropped her gaze to her lap. “I don’t know what to say. I know I screwed up, I know it was stupid, and I’m sorry.”

The stupid part was true. She could’ve gone farther than she wanted to with the boy she’d gone to see—or with any random guy who might’ve taken advantage of her no-inhibitions state. Weird to think she was probably
lucky
the police came when they did—some things just can’t be undone. Like her parents’ trust in her being shattered. The fact that she now had a record. All the years of never doing anything wrong, and it’d disappeared in a stupid instant.

For a guy who’d never showed. Romeo wasn’t at the police station, so she assumed he’d run and left her behind.

An ache settled over her heart, an empty, hollow sensation right on its heels.

“Sorry’s not good enough when it comes to something like this.” Dad scooted forward on the couch, shaking his head. “Obviously your friends are bad influences, and your schooling isn’t having near enough influence.” He glanced at Mom, then back at Rosaline. “We’ve made a decision. We’re sending you to live with your Aunt Dafne.”

Panic clutched her chest. “Aunt Dafne? Doesn’t she live in Kansas or something?”

“Arkansas. You’ll finish the last few weeks of your junior year online, work there with her, and do exactly what she says.”

“But I’ve never done anything wrong before. One time, and you’re shipping me off to the middle of nowhere?” All of her friends were here in Verona. The beach, palm trees—all the things she loved. And Romeo. Okay, so maybe tonight hadn’t gone as planned, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care. There was a logical reason for his no-show; she was sure of it.

“Once is one time too many,” Dad said. “Especially when it comes to drugs. Not to mention the notes we found in your room from that boy—”

“You went through my room?” she asked, her voice coming out a couple octaves higher than usual. How could they violate her privacy like that?

“Searching for drugs, yes. And a Montague? Are you trying to shame our entire family?” Dad jabbed a finger at her. “You know that family is no good.”

Rosaline opened her mouth to argue, but Dad cut her off.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, because you’ll never see him again. This will be the last time you do anything illegal, and we’ll do whatever it takes to assure that.”

“I’ll never do it again, I swear. Just give me another chance.” Rosaline clasped her hands. “Please.”

“You leave tomorrow morning,” Dad said. “I suggest you go wash the filth of the holding cell off you then get some sleep. You’re going to need it.”

***

The entire drive to the airport, Rosaline kept thinking Mom and Dad would change their minds. According to Mom, Dafne had some degree in counseling, which was Dad’s selling point when he’d talked his legal contacts into letting Rosaline’s arrest slide.

Still, there
had
to be another way. Another counselor. Something. Anything.

The car pulled up to the curb of the airport and Rosaline sat in her seat, staring at her parents.
Are they really going to just send me away?

Dad deposited her bags with the skycap. Apparently, they were. Without tears or heartfelt goodbyes, too.

Rosaline crossed her arms. “So what if Aunt Dafne can’t fix me?”

“You better hope she can,” Dad said, a cool edge to his words, “or your next stop will be military school.”

Life in camo and ugly black boots? Shudder. No doubt they’d take away her high-tech, ionic ceramic flat iron, too, and her hair would be a frizzy blond mess. So she lifted her chin, shouldered her now cell phone-less purse, and begrudgingly headed into the airport.

An hour and a half later, she watched out the window as the beach and palm trees faded away, swallowed in fluffy white clouds. Blinking back tears, she pulled Romeo’s last note out of her pocket. She’d planned on a quick call to Clara, then trying to get hold of Romeo to at least explain that his friends were wrong—that she did like him. That she’d give anything for one more night with him.

But her parents hadn’t allowed even that. They’d watched over her like she might find a secret stash that didn’t exist and shoot up before they could stop her. Granted, running away
had
crossed her mind. But after a lifetime of mostly cushy living, she didn’t kid herself that she could survive life on the road.

“Don’t be scared, dear,” the woman next to her said, patting her hand. The coolness from the woman’s veiny, sun-spotted hand soaked into her skin. “I’ve experienced plenty of flights in my life. This one will be over before you know it.”

And then I’ll be stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no phone and no friends
. A tight band formed around her chest, and she sniffed as a couple of tears broke free. Memories of last week flashed through her head. Walking down the boardwalk with Clara and Sophie, laughing and talking. Romeo coming up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and whispering in her ear about how beautiful she looked.

She’d never felt this way about a boy before, and she’d blown her chance to kiss him—to kiss the hottest guy she’d ever seen!

The squeezing between her ribs increased.
Is he wondering why I never found him at the party? Does he miss me like I miss him?

She had to get a message to him. To him and to Clara. Somehow, she’d find a way.

One changeover in Houston and a two-hour flight later, the plane touched down at the Northwest Arkansas Regional Airport, which was on the edge of the freaking Ozark Mountains. No beach. Just trees and dirt and probably big bugs like the ones she’d hidden from in the RV last time Mom and Dad decided camping would be fun.

The large, sweaty man who’d sat next to her had taken up half her seat, and she could still smell his body odor, like it’d soaked into her hair or something.

Sick! I need a shower. Too bad I’ve still got to endure a half-hour drive even farther into the middle of nowhere, where I’ll be trapped for who-knows-how-long, my social life drying up like my heart.

Aunt Dafne stood near the baggage claim. Even though Rosaline hadn’t seen her in years, she was easy to spot. She had the same dark hair and no-nonsense expression Dad always wore. Her drab gray business suit, minimal makeup, and harsh updo sent another stab of despair through Rosaline’s chest.

My life’s totally over. I might as well become a nun. A mean one that teaches Catholic school. At least that way, I’ll be able to share my misery.

“I trust the plane ride went well,” Dafne said.

“It gave me a long time to figure out how to pull off the
coup d'état
I’m planning, so I’d mark it down as a success.”

The crease between Dafne’s brows deepened—she could really use a good eyebrow waxing.
Oh, no. What if there isn’t anywhere to get my eyebrows waxed in this hick town? I’ll have to self-wax. Or worse, tweeze.

Dafne pressed her lips into a tight line. “Enrico said you’d become difficult.”

Rosaline threw her hands up. “That’s why I’m here, right? Send the convict away as fast as possible so she doesn’t shame the family name.”

“I’d hoped he was overreacting, like he usually does.” Dafne walked over to the baggage claim, and Rosaline wished she’d kept the sarcasm down. She could use someone on her side, especially the woman she’d be living with.

She stepped up next to her aunt, watching suitcase after suitcase slide down onto the silver carousel. “He
is
overreacting, you know.”

Without looking at her, Dafne said, “The drugs? Is that part true?”

“Drug. Singular. It was once. And I know it was stupid. It’s just that…” Somehow, she doubted Dafne would show her sympathy if she said,
See,
I really liked this boy and I was nervous about kissing him.
Because it sounded weak even to her. “It was only the one time,” she whispered, shame heating her face.

“I work hard, and you’ll be expected to work hard, too. I don’t have to take you in, and your father made it clear there are other options if you don’t listen to me.”

“Drill sergeants and camo. I got the memo.” Looked like that threat was going to hang over her for the next year and a half.

“I don’t have time to babysit you.”

“I’m seventeen. I don’t need babysat.”

“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here,” Dafne said.

Rosaline was too drained to come up with a response. Her bags finally came down the conveyor belt, and she retrieved them. Her life now boiled down to two suitcases. Two suitcases, no phone, and living in the middle of nowhere with an uptight aunt she barely knew.

Welcome to your own personal hell.

***

Trees, trees, and more trees. They were pretty and all, but that was all there was to see for miles and miles. The road had two-lanes. Not on each side. Just one coming and one going, dotted yellow line in between. Aunt Dafne drove a big, decked-out silver pickup truck that accelerated with a growl. Who woulda thought?

After being on the road for thirty minutes, a sign announced their official entrance to Lowell, Arkansas. Rosaline sat up, hoping shops would come into view. But all she saw was a whole lot of nothing. Old buildings, more trees, and a big banner proclaiming Mudtown Days were right around the corner.

“Mudtown Days?”
Sounds thrilling.

“There’s a car show, carnival, live music, food. That kind of thing.” Dafne pulled up to a large park with tented booths set up along the edge. “I’ve got to get a few things from the farmer’s market, and then we’ll go home and get you settled in.”

“And where
is
your home exactly? I thought you worked for some bigwig business man.”

“Mercer Trucking Company is headquartered here, and I work for Mr. Mercer. I live in the guest home on his estate, so I’m always close and can run things while he travels.”

A trucking company? Dad always made it sound like Dafne worked for some rich geezer.
Trucking company sounded far less glamorous.

Rosaline got out of the truck and walked along with Dafne as she selected vegetables. A jewelry booth a couple spots down caught her eye, and she drifted over for a closer look. A curly-haired brunette girl who looked to be about her age sat behind the table. “Let me know if you’d like to try anything on,” she said in a charming accent, smiling up at her.

Rosaline scanned the jewelry. She’d expected cheesy trinkets and beads, but the pieces looked like something you could buy in a high-end store along the Verona boardwalk. Half the table ran more on the southwestern, lots-of-turquoise motif—not her style. But the other half had lots of silver necklaces and earrings with cute charms that she would actually wear. “They’re nice.”

“Thanks. I make them.” The girl stood up. “You new to town?”

“Fresh in from California. I’m going to be living with my Aunt Dafne.”

“Dafne Capulet?” The girl’s eyebrows shot up. “Like on the
Mercer Estate
?”

“Yeeeaah.” Rosaline narrowed her gaze. “Why do you say it like that?”

“The Mercers are just… Well, they stay isolated. Then there’s the curse.”

“The curse?” Rosaline didn’t mean to say it with so much skepticism, but really? A curse?

“Some say it’s because their place was built on an Indian burial ground.” The girl put a hand to her chest. “Not that I believe it, but they do seem to have mighty awful luck. For a while it looked like the younger one was going to avoid it, but…” She shrugged, then suddenly acted interested in the necklaces on the table in front of her. “Mercer Trucking Company helps keep this town booming, so I shouldn’t be…” She lifted a necklace with a dangling heart charm. “Did you see this one?”

Sounds like the Mercers are total weirdoes. And apparently the town thinks there are ancient Indian curses floating around. This day keeps getting better and better.

Rosaline swiped her hair behind her ear. “It’s pretty, but unfortunately, I’m out of cash. Pretty much out of everything actually. Including a social life or friends or…anything.” She shook her head. “I’m feeling a little dramatic lately. I’m sure there’s…” She glanced around. The occasional car passed by, slowly driving down the road, the pace so relaxed the town seemed almost frozen.