Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl (2 page)

Grimacing, I take her phone, flip it open, and debate who to call. My friend Luna’s parents are super strict, so she’s a no-go. Wynter and Ari might let me stay over, but then I’d have to explain why my mom is kicking me out of the house, and I’m not ready to tell them about my home life yet.

Only one person knows about what goes on at my house, and that’s Beckett. He’s been one of my closest friends since grade school. I told him about my mom a couple of years ago when he came over to my house to work on a school project and my mom wasn’t home by the time he was leaving.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay being here all by yourself?” he asked, reluctant to leave even though his mom had honked the horn five times already.

I nodded, cringing at the shouting floating through the walls from the neighbors. “I’ll be fine. I’m home alone a lot, actually.”

He slung his backpack onto his shoulder with worry in his eyes. “Really? That doesn’t seem okay. I mean, my parents aren’t that great, but they don’t leave me home this late unless the maid or Theo is there with me.”

“It’s fine.” I felt stupid and silly and embarrassed, not just for having to defend my mom, but because of how loud the neighbors were screaming. It was bad enough bringing Beck to my tiny, broken house located on the crappy side of town when his house is so fancy and big. But we needed some rocks from my rock collection to do our project, so I didn’t have much of a choice. “I can take care of myself.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.” He lightly tapped me on the nose, something he did to try to cheer me up. “Why don’t you come over to my house and hang out until your mom gets home?”

My shoulders slumped even lower. “She might not be home until morning.” Or maybe even for a couple of days, but I didn’t want to tell him that.

He blinked in shock, and I waited for him to call my mom a weirdo and a freak like other kids did, but all he said was, “That’s okay. You can spend the night.”

I almost smiled. I should’ve known Beck would never call me a freak. “You think your mom will let me?”

He shrugged. “I’ll just tell her that we have to finish our project and your mom will pick you up in a few hours. She’ll be asleep by then, so she won’t notice.”

“But what about in the morning when I’m still there?”

“She has tennis practice at, like, eight and won’t be back until noon.”

I nodded and then packed my things, glad I didn’t have to sleep in the house alone again and thankful Beck was my best friend.

I glance at my mom, wondering how she would feel about me spending the night at a guy’s house or if she found out that I had already done that a handful of times over the years. Honestly, I don’t think she’d care.

I dial Beck’s number, crossing my fingers his dad doesn’t get angry that I called. He can be kind of grumpy sometimes.

The phone rings four times before Beck picks up.

“Since when do you stay up this late?” he asks in a teasing tone. “I thought you were on a schedule so you could get maximum study hours in or whatever.”

“I am on a schedule.” I turn my back to my mom as she examines me inquisitively. “But the schedule got interrupted.”

He sighs. “Let me guess. Boyfriend number twenty-seven is over and is being loud and annoying.”

He knows me too well.

“Yes to the last.” I glance at mom out of the corner of my eye. “No to the first … I’m pretty sure she’s above twenty-seven.”

A pucker forms at my mom’s brow. “What are you saying to him?”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Okay …” Her gaze roams to the doorway. “I’m going to go check on Bill. I’ll be right back.”

After she walks out, I wander toward the window and close my eyes, shame washing over me. While I doubt Beck will judge me, it doesn’t make asking for help any easier.

“I need a favor.”

“Sure,” he replies easily. “What’s up?”

I rest my head against the frosted window. “I need a place to crash for a few days.”

“Why? What happened?” Nervousness creeps into his tone. “This boyfriend dude didn’t try to get into your room like the last one did, did he?”

“No … Well, he did, but only to try to get me out of the house,” I say quietly, “which is why I need a place to crash.”

“Your mom’s letting him kick you out of the house?” He doesn’t sound that shocked.

“They’re not really kicking me out …” My cheeks warm with my embarrassment. “My mom just asked me if I could sleep in the car or go spend the night at one of my friends’ houses for a few days. I don’t really like sleeping in the car … so I called you.” I shrug, even though he can’t see me. I feel so pathetic.

“Well, I’m glad you called me. I don’t want you sleeping in a car, especially because your neighbors are so crazy. I just wish your mom didn’t treat you like this. You deserve so much better, Wills.” He pauses. “Maybe you should tell someone that she kicks you out all the time. It isn’t right.”

“It’s fine … I’m fine,” I say, not really knowing what else to say. Sure, I know my home life isn’t normal, but it could be worse. She could’ve left me by now. “So, you don’t care if I stay with you?”

“You can always stay with me. In fact, I want you to promise that you’ll never sleep in the car again. Always call me if you need help.”

“I can do that.” I blow out a stressed breath, the weight on my shoulders feeling a tiny bit lighter. “Thanks. You’re the best friend ever.”

“Well, duh,” he jokes. “When are you heading over? I’ll order pizza or something. How does that sound?”

As if answering, my stomach grumbles, reminding me how the cupboards and fridge are empty, so I had to skip dinner again. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I want to. Besides, I bet you skipped dinner.”

“You know me too well.”

“That’s because I’m your best friend. If I didn’t know you, then I’d be the worst friend ever.”

A tiny smile forms on my lips, but contentment nosedives as my mom pokes her head into my room.

“Is your friend letting you stay over?” she asks, her eyes more bloodshot than they already were.

I nod, covering the phone with my hand. “Yeah.”

“Good.” She steps into my room, swaying a little. “They’ll have to come pick you up. I can’t drive right now.”

I want to argue, but I’m pretty sure she’s either drunk or high. “My friends aren’t old enough to drive.”

“They have parents, though, right?” she asks as she grasps the doorframe to regain her balance. “See if they’ll come pick you up.”

I waver, not wanting to ask Beck for such a huge favor. But staying in the car doesn’t sound that fantastic, either.

“Please stop being difficult.” Her bleary eyes plead with me to understand. “Bill already thinks you’re gone, so you need to get out of here before he finds out I lied to him.”

Tears of mortification sting my eyes as I put the phone to my ear. “Beck?”

“I heard,” he says tightly. “I’m already heading out to the car with Theo.”

A shaky breath falters from my lips as I fight back the waterworks. “Your brother got his license?”

“Technically.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he has his learner’s permit. But don’t worry. He’s a really good driver.”

“What if your parents find out?” Guilt gnaws at my stomach. “Won’t you guys get into trouble?”

“They won’t find out,” he promises. “Now chin up, princess. We’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”

By the time I hang up, tears are slipping down my cheeks. I quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand.

“All good?” my mom asks as I give her back the phone.

I nod, though nothing feels good. At all. In fact, the whole situation makes me feel terribly icky inside.

A droopy smile forms on her lips as she stuffs the phone into the pocket of her pants. “Then you should probably get packed and wait for him on the steps. I don’t want Bill to start yelling at you again. I’m sure that probably scares you.” She wraps her arms around me. “Thank you so much for doing this, sweetie. You’re such a good daughter. How did I get so lucky?”

I wish I could believe her, but if her words were true, then why is she always kicking me out of the house and leaving me all the time? I don’t ask, though, too afraid of the answer.

She hugs me before walking out of my room. I hurry and pack, slip on a jacket and sneakers, and wait outside on the porch, but I quickly bail when a couple of kids a few years older than me try to persuade me to get high with them.

When Beck finally pulls up, I’m standing at the edge of the parking lot in the dark, hiding near the entrance sign to the single-story apartment complex I live in.

“What’re you doing out here?” Beck asks as he hops out of the fancy sports car that belongs to his older brother Theo.

I rush toward him, scuffing my sneakers in the dirt. “Some guys were trying to get me to do drugs, so I thought I’d be safer out here.”

He shakes his head, taking hold of my hand. The second his skin touches mine, a calming warmth spreads through me.

“Next time, wait inside,” he says, eyeing the guys loitering near the door to my apartment. Their attention is trained on us, smoke is lacing the air, and when one guy whispers something to the other, my legs turn into Jell-O.

Beck must sense my nervousness because he hauls me closer and steers us toward the car.

“I would’ve waited in the house, but my mom told me I had to wait on the porch.” I clutch his hand, wishing I never had to let go.

I can’t see his face, but he tightens his fingers around my hand as he opens the back door and slides into the backseat, pulling me in with him. Once the door is shut, Theo drives out onto the street.

“Are you okay?” Theo asks, casting a quick glance in the rearview mirror.

Theo usually teases Beck and me, making kissing faces and cracking jokes about liking each other, so his niceness throws me off.

“I’m fine.” But I’m shaking, which can’t mean I’m fine, right?

Beck notices, shucks off his hoodie, and places it over my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.” He drapes an arm around my shoulder and kisses the side of my head. “I won’t ever let anything happen to you. I promise.”

I know it’s silly, but a guy has never kissed me before, not even on the cheek. My skin burns from where his lips touched, and all I can think is,
I feel so cared for
.

Safe.

I lean into him, resting my head on his shoulder, believing his promise way more than I do my mom’s. “Thank you, Beck,” I whisper, “for everything.”

“You’re welcome.” He gives me a sideways hug. “I’ll always be here for you, Wills.”

I hope he’s right. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

While Rule #1—the very first list—is in play…

Chapter Two

Willow

Five years later…

Sometimes, I wonder if luck has a vendetta against me. Perhaps I unknowingly offended it, and now it’s pissed off and determined to break me down. That would explain a lot about my life.

I know how cuckoo I sound. And in reality, I don’t actually believe luck exists, at least in a physical sense. But pretending it does makes situations like this easier. Then I don’t have to deal with the truth: that my life is just really, really shitty and that lately, I’ve made it shittier by making shitty choices.

“Goddammit, not again,” I curse as I steer my car over to the side of the road.

Smoke funnels from the hood, and the engine growls like a dying Gremlin as I shove the shifter into park and shut down the engine. Leaving the headlights on, I unbuckle my seatbelt and slip on a hoodie over my work uniform, trying to cover up one of the many bad decisions I made tonight: not changing out of my outfit before I left work. In my defense, I was in a rush to get home and check on my mom who hasn’t texted me in over six hours. And that would be yet another bad decision: leaving my mom home alone after she spent the entire night sobbing and drinking away her broken heart, searching for the pieces in the bottom of a bottle.

I really should’ve called in sick.

But then how would you pay rent?

I send my mom another text, but she doesn’t reply. Shoving down my anxiety over something possibly being really wrong this time, I climb out of the car to check out the damage. The cool November air nips at my bare legs and stings my cheeks as I go to the trunk and grab the flashlight I put in there after the last time my car broke down. Then I walk around to the front of my car and pop the hood open.

Smoke plumes into my face as the engine hisses, which probably means it overheated, something that’s been happening on and off for a month now. I need to take it to a shop to get fixed, but my mom hasn’t been able to hold a steady job since boyfriend number forty-five dumped her for someone half her age. And with me starting college, our financial situation has gone from crappy to desperately nonexistent, which leads me to my third bad decision: my new job.

I pull the jacket securely around me as I glance up and down the dark, desolate highway that stretches between Ridgefield and Fairs Hollow. Fairs Hollow is where I attend college and work, but I’ve been staying at home in Ridgefield because I can’t afford to pay my mom’s rent and mine. Plus, I really need to keep an eye on my mom after her boyfriend just dumped her. That may not sound that bad, but my mom doesn’t handle breakups very well. No, scratch that. My mom doesn’t
handle
breakups at all. She buries her pain in alcohol until the next guy comes along. Then she either gets high with him or gets high off the relationship, and for as long as that lasts, she’s happy. But when they break up, she sinks into a pit of despair. This has been going on for years, and I’ve spent many nights making sure she doesn’t die in her sleep after days of binge drinking and drugs, something she was doing before I left for work earlier.