Playing with Fire (10 page)

By Wednesday, I think maybe Felicity is beginning to trust me. Without going into all the details, I clue Olivia in to the fact that God has shown me this girl needs help. We even ask her to eat lunch with us, but she declines our invite so she can hang with Jack. I try not to sound negative about Jack, because he's the first one who really reached out to her, and she likes him.

Later in the day, Garrett seems extra quiet. And in chemistry, he almost completely ignores me. I try to convince myself he's trying to focus on our experiment, but I don't think that's the whole reason.

“Garrett, are you okay?”

He looks up, adjusting his safety glasses to see me better, then just shrugs.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Well, why so glum, chum?” I give him a cheesy smile.

“I don't know.”

“Everything okay at home?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“How's the counseling stuff going?” I ask as I remember that he's still working through some issues, although he's been claiming he doesn't need any more help and really doesn't think he's gay.

“It's okay.” He makes a face. “I told my counselor I don't need any more sessions, but she says she'll let me know when it's time to quit.”

“That's probably good.”

He rolls his eyes, then sort of nods.

“So are you concerned about your court appearance?” I know that comes up next week.

“Maybe.”

Aha. Something about the flicker in his dark eyes tells me I might have hit pay dirt here. “Do you think they're going to prove you guilty?”

“Not really.”

“But you're worried?”

He scowls, then looks back at the experiment. “I need to focus on this, Sam. Unless you want to take over.”

“No, that's okay. But why don't we talk later.”

He nods without saying anything.

Then I remember I have a task-force meeting after school. So I ask him if it's okay if I call him tonight or maybe meet him for coffee.

He brightens a little, and we agree to meet at seven at the Starbucks not too far from his house. Hopefully, Olivia will give me a ride.

“I have band practice this afternoon,” she says as she takes me to the police station. “So I can't pick you up by five.”

“I can call Mom and catch a ride with her.” I mention meeting Garrett for coffee and ask Olivia if she wants to join us.

“I'd like to. But let me get back to you on that, okay?” Then I get out, wave good-bye, and go into my first methamphetamine task-force meeting. I'm not that surprised to find I'm the only teenager here. Mostly it's cops, a few
city officials, a doctor, and a couple of rehab counselors. Ebony is chairing the committee and handles the introductions. To my relief, she doesn't mention anything about my “gift” but instead describes my role with her as a “consultant from the teen sector,” explaining how my dad used to be her partner and how I've been helpful in solving some cases that involved teens.

This first meeting is mostly educational. The experts share what they know about addiction, manufacturing of the drug, how it impacts the crime rate, and things like that. I listen carefully, like I think there might be an exam later, but it's somewhat redundant with the information in the packet Ebony gave me last week. Probably the best thing about this meeting is the reassurance that people are very concerned. And this group wants to do everything possible to educate our community about the problem and put a lid on it.

After the meeting, Ebony asks me to meet with her privately in her office. First she asks if I've read any of the book she gave me.

“As a matter of fact, I'm almost halfway through it,” I tell her. “It's actually pretty interesting…and informative.”

She nods. “Good.”

“Did you talk to the chief?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“He has agreed to a trial period, Sam. He asked me to put together some guidelines, which I did last night. And I've agreed to be responsible for your training.”

“Really?” I feel excited now. “I really get to do this?”

“Yes.” She hands me a large yellow envelope. “I want
you to read through this material, and we'll meet a couple times weekly to go over the basics.”

“Cool.”

“And you need to promise me that you'll be very careful, Samantha, that you will take this very seriously.”

“Of course, I will.” I nod. “You can trust me, Ebony.”

“No risk taking, no playing hero.”

“Absolutely.”

Then she reaches into her desk drawer and pulls out a set of keys and grins. “And, we've decided to let you use a department car.”

“A cruiser?” I tease, knowing full well they would never allow me to drive one of their prized black and whites. Still, I'm slightly shocked they're actually letting me use any of their cars. But I try to act natural.

She laughs. “Not quite.”

Then I imagine a car like hers, a conservative-looking, dark gray Chevy sedan, and I hope I can appear appropriately grateful. I mean, who am I to complain about getting a set of wheels?

“I already talked to your mom about it,” she says. “We needed her complete approval. Plus, she needed to sign the insurance papers since you're a juvenile.”

“And she was okay with it?”

“She was happy about it.”

“Cool.”

“Want to see it?”

I nod. “Yeah, sure.”

“I've got the insurance papers and some other agreement forms here,” she says, “but maybe you'd like to actually see the car before you sign them.”

Is she worried that if I don't like the car I won't sign the papers? I don't care how ugly the car is. I will like it. I will like it. I will like it. Ebony's guiding me down a. hallway that leads out to the garage. I'm mentally preparing myself for my “new” car. I'm telling myself to smile and look excited when she shows it to me. I so don't want to offend her.

“You also get a parking spot down here,” she says as we go down a stairwell. “But I don't think you should use it if you're really doing surveillance. You wouldn't want any of your peers to observe you pulling into the police-department garage. Might look suspicious.”

“Good point.”

She makes some more good points as we continue down to the garage. Finally she's quiet, and our footsteps echo through the underground garage as we walk past a row of shiny cruisers and then some of the dull-colored unmarked cars. Finally she stops in front of a lime green VW Bug that looks totally out of place. “Here you go.” She hands me the set of keys.

“You're kidding?” I stare at the incredibly cute car. “Is this really it?”

“Yep.”

“But… how?”

“The department confiscates vehicles occasionally,” she explains, “from crime scenes and whatnot.”

“You mean this was a criminal—”

“Don't worry. We traded a couple of the other vehicles for this one. The car is innocent.”

I laugh as I run my hand over the hood.
“Wow!”

“It's not new,” she says, like I even care. “It's three years old, but it's in good shape. The department wll provide
your gas for any surveillance work. Other than that, you're on your own.”

“Wow,” I say again. This is so awesome.”

“So you approve?”

“I totally love it!” I'm so happy right now that I want to jump up and down and scream like a game-show contestant, but remembering we're in the police-department garage, I control myself. “So why did you pick a car like this?”

“Good question.” She grins. “Well, besides the fact I thought you might like it, we were concerned about you driving a car that looked too official. This seemed like the sort of car a high-school girl would drive just for fun. And we want to protect your cover. This car will get attention, but not in a negative way.”

“No one would ever think this was a cop car.”

She nods. “Exactly. Now let's go sign those papers.”

Thirty minutes later I am driving this adorable car through town and wearing the biggest smile ever. I so cannot believe it!

M
om is just pulling into the driveway when I get home. She parks in the garage, then comes back out to look at my car.

“It's cute, Samantha,” she says after giving it the once-over. “I can't believe they did this for you.”

“Well, they're only letting me
use
the car. It's not like they gave it to me.”

“Be careful,” she warns. This is a small car. You need to be a cautious driver in it.”

“It has air bags.”

“Just don't use them.”

“I'm trying to figure out how to explain this to my friends,” I admit. “I mean, I don't want to lie, but I can't mention the connection to the department either.”

“That is a problem, isn't it?” Her brow creases, and I know she's trying to come up with a solution.

“What if I say that
you
helped me get it,” I say suddenly. “Since, in a way, you did. I mean, Ebony told me they had to have your approval before they got the car.”

“That's true.”

“So I never would've gotten it without you.”

“Yes…I suppose that's right.”

“Do you mind if I say that?”

“I think that's fine.”

“Do you think Zach will be jealous?”

She considers this. “He shouldn't be. After all, I helped him get his first car too. And look where that ended up.”

I nod, remembering how Zach ended up losing his car because of drugs. “Yeah, I guess he can't really complain.”

So it's settled. I'll tell anyone who wants to know that Mom helped me get the car. To make it sound more realistic, I'll mention that I've been saving up, which is also true. I actually rehearse this line in my head a couple of times as I help Mom take some bags of groceries into the house. Just in case.

“Whose car?” Zach asks when he notices my green. Bug in the driveway.

“Mine,” I tell him as I put a gallon of milk in the fridge.

He looks puzzled. “Since when?”

“Since today.”

“No way.”

I nod. “Yeah. I've been saving for a while, and Mom helped me.”

“Cool.” He slaps me on the back. “My baby sister's got wheels. Now maybe I can bum a ride from you sometimes.”

“Or you can get a job and get your own car,” Mom says as she unloads groceries from a bag.

“I'm working on it,” he says in a slightly grumpy tone. Then he grabs a can of soda and makes a hasty exit.

Mom lets out a loud sigh as she puts a box of cereal in the pantry. I can tell she's frustrated, and I'm not sure what I can say to encourage her. But I do know how she feels.

“It's like he's stuck,” I finally say.

Tes.”

“I've even considered offering to go to an NA meeting with him. You know, just to get the wheels rolling.”

She sort of laughs. “I don't think they like people to come who don't have addiction problems of their own.”

“But I could offer him a ride. I know there's one tonight at the community center, and I promised to meet a friend for coffee.”

Mom brightens. “Why don't you suggest this to Zach?”

And so I do, with Mom backing me. To our surprise, Zach agrees. “Yeah,” he says. “I've been thinking I need to get back into this.”

So I drop Zach at the community center and head over to Starbucks to meet Garrett. Olivia begged out because of homework, but she did promise to pray for our conversation after I told her I thought it might be serious.

“Whose car?” Garrett asks when I go inside the coffee shop. He's standing by the window, admiring my new wheels.

I grin at him. “Mine.”

“Seriously?”

I nod. “Yep. I just got it today.”

‘“I didn't know you were thinking about getting a car.”

“Well, it was sort of sudden,” I admit. “I've been saving, and my mom helped me…and the timing just seemed right.”

“Did you get a good deal?”

“Oh yeah,” I tell him. “Really good.”

“Sweet.”

We get our coffee and sit at a table by the window where I can keep an eye on my car. Then Garrett gets quiet.

“So, what's going on, Garrett? I know something's up.”

He frowns and looks down at his cup.

“I'm your friend,” I tell him. “Whatever it is, I think you know you can trust me.”

“Yeah…” He looks up at me. “I do trust you, Sam.”

“So tell me what's bugging you. Is it the court thing?”

“It's related.”

I feel like I'm pulling teeth here, but I really do care about Garrett, so I persist. “Does it have to do with the drug test you wouldn't take?”

“Yeah…sort of.”

I'm trying not to convey my shock, but suddenly I'm seriously worried that the Ziploc baggie in the backseat really might've been his after all. “Garrett, do you have a drug problem?”

He nods without speaking.

I brace myself. “Was that meth residue in the baggie from you?”

“No,” he says quickly. ‘That wasn't mine. I swear it wasn't.”

“So, you want to explain?”

He glances around almost as if he suspects we're being spied on. “It started about a year ago. I found an old prescription of my mom's in the medicine cabinet. It was for Effexor, an antidepressant, and since I was depressed, I started taking it. Then I actually managed to get the prescription refilled a couple of times before it expired. After that, I had to find other ways of getting my little happy pills.”