Megan nods. “I didn’t think I’d ever be finished school. I don’t know what I’d do without Mom and you.”
I must look as surprised as I feel because she says, “I know, I know. I never acknowledge all your help with Livy.”
“Well,” I say, “the time she puked mac and cheese all down my shirt exceeded the job description. And when she stuck the Smartie up her nose and I had to go after it with tweezers.”
“You did that too when you were a little kid. You cried so hard you had chocolate-colored snot running out of your nose. It completely put me off Smarties.” Megan glances again in her rearview mirror. “But you won’t be on tweezer detail much longer. I got a job. I’m getting my own place.”
She’s moving out? That means I can take a leak without first moving a kiddie seat off the toilet. I swallow. That means Livy won’t be there.
I say, “Where?”
“Well, not here. I’ll be working downtown, so I got a suite on the east side.”
“Mom works downtown. She commutes from here.”
“She spends hours on the bus each day. I can’t do that—I’d never see Livy. The place I found is less than half an hour from work, and there’s a daycare close by. There’s even a little park with a playground.”
“It sounds like a done deal.”
“I sure hope so.” She pats her handbag. “I’ve saved enough tips from my salon clients for first and last month’s rent.” She looks at me. “You could sound a bit more excited for me.”
“I am, I guess. But isn’t the east side kind of rough?”
“I’ll lock my door, obviously.”
“Obviously. But what about walking to your apartment? What about Livy playing at the park?”
“Shit goes down everywhere, Daniel. It’s not like Meridian is some magic kingdom.” She rolls her eyes. “Like, no one ever gets shot in Meridian.”
My stomach feels like a stone has dropped into it. She’s right. I will never, ever take Livy to Meridian Park.
She continues, “Maybe you and Mom should move too.”
“You have room for us?”
She laughs—hard. “Yeah. No. It’s tiny. Get your own damn place.”
I feel tears prickle my eyes, and I take a few deep breaths to stop them. It’s always been Mom and Megan and me, and then when Livy was born, it was us four. It’s always been just us. Megan must sense how I’m feeling because her voice softens and she says,
“I’ll miss you too, Daniel. Livy and I will be fine.”
We pull onto our street, and Megan finds a parking spot in front of the building. A car rumbles past and she says, “That is so weird. That thing was behind us the whole way home.”
I ratchet my head to see the vehicle. My stomach knots. It’s an
SUV
, an ice-blue Navigator, going slowly. I can’t see the driver, but I don’t have to. It must be Dove. And he must be pissed.
Megan gets out and reaches into the back to get Livy.
“No, I’ll get her,” I say. My hands tremble as I undo Livy’s seat-belt harness. She barely stirs as I lift her from the car seat. Her head rests on my shoulder. She smells like the playground, of dust and metal and fresh air. I breathe her in, trying to calm myself. Megan bends down to grab the loose shoe from the floor of the car.
The Navigator has turned around and is driving back toward us. I pull Livy close and cover her with my jacket.
The driver guns it, and the
SUV
thunders past us. The driver turns to give me a long look. He’s wearing a hat and dark glasses, but the message seems clear. He knows who I am and he knows where I live. And he knows about Livy. My heart hammers my ribs.
Megan lifts her head. “Who
is
that?”
I try to keep my voice from trembling. “Who knows? Just some idiot. He probably didn’t like the way you were driving.” With my one free hand I fish out my house keys. My hands are shaking so badly the keys jangle. “Come on, let’s get inside.”
Indoors, I lay Livy on the couch and tuck a blanket around her. I stand for a minute, watching her sleep. Maybe it is good that Megan and Livy will be
moving out—Dove won’t know where they’ve gone.
I go to the window. Below, the street is quiet—people haven’t started coming home from work yet. It will be dark when Mom walks home from the bus stop. She’ll have her earbuds in, and she’ll be thinking about what to make for supper. She won’t have any reason to think she might not be safe. I draw the curtains.
But she’s not safe. None of us are.
My hands are shaking, but I punch out a message to Cyn.
What did you tell Dove?
In less than a minute, my phone buzzes. It’s Cyn’s number on the call display. I pick up.
But it’s not Cyn. A man’s voice says, “Listen, peckerhead, I don’t know who you are, but you better stop texting my girlfriend. She does not want to talk to you. And she sure as shit doesn’t want to talk to you about me.”
I waited all last night for Cyn to call me so I could break up with her. She never called. Maxwell texted me at the same time he was texting with Mila. So then Mila weighed in and said Cyn must be nuts if she was still with Dove. She said Cyn always liked a bit of excitement. She said when they were younger, Cyn would walk into a store in the mall,
pick up some random piece of clothing and walk out. Once she almost got caught but managed to drop what she’d stolen into a garbage can. The stuff Cyn took was never anything she really wanted, Mila said. Cyn just wanted the rush of walking out with it. Mila said Cyn’s stunts made them laugh. I know what she’s saying. When I’m with Cyn, I feel she gives me this supercharge of confidence. It’s like I can do anything. Mila continued, though, and said that when Cyn started with Dove, she changed. It was like all that energy turned inward. She said that what used to draw her to Cyn drove her away.
The next day, at my locker, I feel Cyn’s presence before I see her standing there staring at me, her arms crossed. For a quick second I forget that we’re not together, but the look on her face freezes me. Quietly, so no one else can hear, she says, “Don’t ever text me about Dove.”
“I thought he drove by my house, Cyn. My house!” I pause. “That is, until I found out he was with you.”
She pulls me into an empty classroom and closes the door. “Someone drove by your house?”
“A big Navigator
SUV
.”
“What color was it?”
“Kind of a light blue.”
“Oh.” She looks at the floor. Her runners, the ones she bought when we were together, are muddy, like she walked across the park. One of her socks has slipped down into the runner.
She is so still it’s like she’s forgotten I’m there. I nudge her. “Cyn?”
She looks at me. Her eyes are wet. “I know that Navigator. It’s someone Dove works for.”
“You mean, someone your boyfriend works for.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He certainly thinks he is. And you’re acting like he is.”
“I’m not going to lie. It is getting complicated.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You not lying—that would be a nice change.”
“Daniel, I am so scared. I’m scared you’re going to leave me, and I really, really need you not to leave me right now.”
I am trying hard not to lose it with her. “I know things at your house are pretty messed up. But what you’re doing is serious, Cyn. And you’ve got me pulled into it too. Your boyfriend’s buddy is driving by my house—”
She interrupts. “He’s not my boyfriend. And the guy who drove by your house isn’t a buddy. Not at all. He’s putting pressure on Dove.”
I think about the shootings that have happened lately. My head starts to throb.
She continues, “You don’t have anything to rip off, and you don’t mean anything to Dove. He was probably just trying to scare you.”
“Well, he did. How does he know about me?”
She shakes her head. “Someone saw us together maybe.”
She really does seem scared. I say, “The Navigator. Has it been by your house too?”
Her shoulders slump. “I’m alone in the house, and we have a security system, but I’m still afraid that he’s going to break in. Normal people keep their lights on and make it look like there is someone in the house. Me, I keep it dark and let the newspapers pile up on the porch.”
“What about your parents?”
She sighs. “They’re in Hawaii. They’re not back for a couple of weeks.”
“So they
are
away. With Mila’s parents, right?”
She looks puzzled, like she can’t remember what she’s told me. “Yes.”
“But you took me to your house. All hell was breaking loose. Your dad was yelling. Your mom was crying.”
Cyn stays quiet.
I feel the hair on my arms lift into goose bumps. “But that wasn’t your parents,” I say. I make myself take a deep breath. “You don’t live in that house.”
She shakes her head. “No. They are our neighbors. We hear them fighting. It’s like clockwork—the guy gets home, they start drinking, they fight.”
Watching Cyn is like watching a magician reveal her tricks. “And your mother doesn’t use drugs.”
I can barely hear her answer. “No.”
Layer by layer, it becomes clear. There was no magic to her deception—
if I’d had my eyes open, I would have seen her sleight of hand. But, just like a magician, she relied on my believing in her. “You wouldn’t take me to your real house. You wouldn’t let me into your real world. Because then nothing would make sense. Like that you sleep with a drug dealer. And that he bought you a car so you could run drugs for him across the border. I guess your parents are okay with all that.”
She throws up her arms, exasperated. “They don’t know about Dove. My parents think Dove is my boss at the restaurant and that I work late sometimes. He didn’t buy me the car. They did.” Her voice starts to shake. “They said they would rather I drive my own car than ride in a guy’s.”
I blink. “In the time we’ve been together, have you told me
anything
that’s true?”
She takes my hands and holds them against her chest. “Don’t ask for the truth and then make me sound like I’m some kind of villain.”
“No one ever thinks they are the villain.”
“I am not a bad person, Daniel.”
“I don’t think you are. I just don’t understand why you do it. It doesn’t seem like your family is short on money.” I study her face. What would make her take such crazy risks? I hate to ask it, but I have to. “Cyn, do you love this guy?”
“No.” She looks me in the eye. “Maybe I did in the beginning, but I was an idiot.” She drops her head. “He used me. Right from the start, he knew what he wanted me for. So I did a run, and he made me do another. And when I said I didn’t want to do any more, he said I had to or he’d get killed. He gets
so angry.” She folds her arms across herself. “And rough.”
I think of the marks on Cyn’s arm. Whatever else she has said, those marks were real. My hands clench into fists.
She says, “And I could tolerate his rage.” She starts to cry. “But he showed me a picture once that he took of me. I was asleep on his bed. It’s the kind of picture a girl does not want shared.” She glances at me. “I’m sorry, but you may as well know.”
I feel my face redden. “That you weren’t exactly a virgin? I guess I knew. I mean, I didn’t really have much to go on, because you were my first.”
She touches my arm. “You are such a good guy.” She sighs. “I begged him to delete the photo, but he said it’s harmless, that it’s just for him. But he showed the picture to me. It’s like he wanted me to know he has it. Even if
he doesn’t post it, he’ll make sure my parents know who I am.”
“So you’re not perfect. You screwed up. Your parents will get over it. Go to the cops, Cyn.”
“No.” She looks terrified. “Don’t even talk like that. That would get us all killed.”
I try to say something, but she holds up her hands. “No,” she says, “you have to understand. The cross-border thing? Money goes one way. Other stuff comes back across.”
My mouth feels suddenly dry. “Stuff? Like what kind of stuff?”
“Like drugs. Weapons.”
My throat sticks, and I can’t talk.
She says, “So now Dove has obligations he can’t keep.” She puts her hands on top of mine. I try to pull my hands away, but she grips them hard.
“I begged Dove to stop sending me,” she says. “Even he knows that I’ve lost
my nerve. The other night was going to be my last run. I was supposed to be done with him. But then the car got impounded.”
I find my voice. “By me. I got the car impounded.”
She says, “I have to do one more run. That’s it.”
“You can just pay him. Ask your parents for the money.”
“It would kill them to know what I’ve been doing.”
I think about my sister’s money she has saved for rent. I’ll have to steal it, and then my sister won’t be able to move, and she might lose out on the job. “I can get some cash.”
Cyn shakes her head. “It won’t be enough.”
“But how can you do a run? Your car is impounded.”
“I can get another car.”
Of course she can. Her parents probably have another car in the garage. Maybe they have two or three. I was stupid to think I could fix the problem by getting the car impounded.
“You’ll get caught, Cyn. Dove is right. You’re too scared—it’s all over your face. The border guards will know that something isn’t right.”
“I’m less scared to get caught by the border guards. With them, I have a chance.” She goes to put her arms around me, but I don’t let her.
I say, “You used me just like Dove used you.”
She nods. “I did.”
“Gee, thanks, Cyn. Now you decide not to lie.”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes fill. “But part of me is glad. I mean, I am sorry you’re in this mess. But I don’t regret for a minute being with you. The way
you treated me, I started to believe I was good. I want to be a good person, Daniel. You have to believe me—I want to be with you.”
“I’d like to believe you. But being his girlfriend or being mine won’t change who you are.” I turn to walk out the door. “You know, when we kissed, you never closed your eyes.”
She says, “If you know that, then you didn’t either.”
The night of the dance is clear and cold. Outside the school, people line two sides of a table where school liaison cops are searching bags for liquor and drugs. Most of the girls aren’t wearing coats over their dresses, and they huddle in the line, rubbing their arms against the cold. The cop who spoke to me in the hallway is there, Constable Nagle.
He sees me and his gaze holds mine for a second. I jam my hands in my pockets. My new jacket isn’t warm enough—I’m freezing too.