I won’t choose her life over mine.
The top stair creaks when I hit it, but something stops me. Grams’s door is cracked open, and I can hear her coughing up a lung. A shiver shoots up my spine, and all I can think is, Freaking disgusting.
I head down two more stairs, then hear coughing again. Grams coughs so hard and so long that I’m sure it’s the last sound she’ll ever make. Then she stops and gasps for air. I squeeze my eyes shut, pull in a breath, and head toward her door. It sways open beneath my hand, and I spot Grams lying in a full-sized bed. There’s a window near her, and the moon casts shadows over her purple silk comforter.
I take a few quiet steps into the room and stop when she turns around. She doesn’t seem surprised to see me. Like she knew I’d be here at this very moment.
Grams opens her mouth and coughs again, and I fight the urge to bolt. On her nightstand, just out of her reach, is a glass of water. I cross the room, put one finger on the glass, and slide it toward her.
Then I do bolt.
I shake my whole body out and roll my head quick like a boxer, trying to get rid of the heebie-jeebies.
“Dante,” Grams croaks.
I freeze.
“Thank you,” she finishes.
The tiniest of smiles touches my lips, and I descend the stairs and leave.
Chaptyer Twenty-four
Ideas Are A-Brewin’
Wednesday morning I wake up with a start. I realize I’m halfway through my ten days, and I don’t have much to show for it. I need to speed things along. The problem is, I can tell I’m dragging my feet.
Though I won’t admit why.
When I get to Charlie’s house, Grams opens the door. She’s dressed in her silk kimono, acting like nothing happened last night. Like she didn’t almost croak.
“Hey,” she says. “Charlie rode with Blue to school.”
I fold my arms in front of my chest. “Oh, yeah?”
She nods.
“So,” I say.
Mr. Awkward rolls up between us, lights a cigarette, makes himself comfortable. It’s the same bastard who shows up after you’ve bumped uglies with a stranger.
Grams breaks the tension by smiling. She slaps me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. I won’t tell anyone you’ve got a heart.”
I try to match her smile, but my mouth won’t cooperate. Instead I say, “What’s wrong with you?”
She takes a sharp breath and gazes over my shoulder into the woods. “Food poisoning.”
“Uh-huh.” I run a hand through my hair. “When you going to tell Charlie about that food poisoning? So it doesn’t, like, blindside her.”
Her blue-gray eyes snap to my face. “That girl’s been through enough.”
I hold her stare. Charlie has been through enough. Still, she knows something’s going down with Grams. But not everything. And she deserves to. But I decide it’s not my place.
Grams is still glaring at me, so I nod. “Guess you’re right. See you around.”
Her face warms. “See ya, good-lookin’.”
…
Classes drag by, and I can’t find a spare second to talk to Charlie. The time between classes seems shorter somehow, and for the hundredth time, I curse having to be in school at all.
When lunch—and sweet freedom—finally arrives, I find Charlie and her clan at their usual table. Charlie’s lashes are long with black mascara, and above them, a shiny brownish-gold color is spread over her eyelids. It’s the first time I’ve seen a touch of makeup on her.
It looks good.
She looks good.
But I’m still not sure it was necessary.
The cafeteria is alive with commotion, and the sounds of excited voices pierce my eardrums. It’s the damn Halloween dance. It’s been like this all week, horny boys and clueless girls scrambling to find dates and buy tickets during their precious social hour.
Gag me.
“That is a terrible face.” Annabelle draws a circle in the air to reference my face. “What’s the problem? You look like you’re about to crap your diaper.”
I drop down next to Charlie and say, “It’s that.” I point to the black-and-orange-clad ticket table.
“You don’t do dances?” Annabelle asks. “Is it because you can’t dance?”
I lean forward. “Trust me, I can—”
“It’s okay.” She nods toward Blue. “Blue can’t dance to save his life.”
I eye Blue, but he just shrugs and works his PB&J.
“Annabelle, I got moves that’ll bring you to your knees,” I say. “I just hate school functions.”
I nudge Charlie for backup. She digs her hand into her pocket, then pops Skittles into her mouth. She stays quiet.
“Charlie? You like that kind of stuff? Dances? School crap created because it’s a safe alternative for the children?” I end with air quotes.
“She’s a chick, ain’t she?” Annabelle asks. “We girls are prewired to like things that make you suffer.”
This is not good. I am not—I repeat, not—going to that damn dance. Then again, I’m not sure what I’m worried about. The dance is three days away. By then, I’ll have Charlie’s soul all wrapped up with a fat red bow. I just have to give her a reason to ask for more beauty changes.
“If you guys want to go party, why don’t we go tonight? Why do we have to wait until Saturday?”
Annabelle glances at Blue, then at me. “What’d you have in mind?”
Crap. What did I have in mind?
“Something great,” I say, stalling. “How ’bout I pick you guys up out front after school?”
Charlie grins, and Blue nods, but Annabelle’s not convinced—which surprises me.
“Why should we go anywhere with you?” she says.
“Wow. Okay. Did I do something?”
“It’s what you didn’t do.” She nods at Charlie.
I study Charlie, but I have no idea what Annabelle’s talking about.
“Her glasses,” Blue says. “She’s not wearing glasses anymore.”
Oooh. That’s right. I’m not supposed to know. I should be surprised. I should be all, Charlie, where are your glasses? You look great!
I glance at Charlie and feign surprise. “Oh, wow. Where are your glasses? You look great!”
She gives me a knowing smile and says, “I got contacts this morning as an early Halloween present from Grams.”
“Halloween present?” I say. “Is that a thing?”
“Totally,” Charlie says.
“Not at all,” Annabelle and Blue say.
I focus on Annabelle. “We solid? You in now?”
She cocks her head to the side like she’s contemplating. Then she grins and says, “In like a mofo.”
When lunch is over, Charlie turns to me, expecting me to walk her to class like I usually do. I put my hand on her waist, surprised at the bit of curve I feel. “I’m going to take care of some stuff. I’ll see you outside after school. ’Kay?”
“You’re going to skip?” she asks.
“Is that so surprising?”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Guess if you’re dead, you’re not afraid of flunking out.”
“No, sweets, I’m not.” I let go of her and head outside. I’ve got four hours to dream up something that’ll make Charlie beg to cash in that contract. And I’ve got a damn good idea brewing.
Chapter Twenty-five
Let’s Roll
When the final bell rings, I’m waiting in the parking lot. I see the three goofs sauntering toward the car, bundled against the cold. Charlie points toward Elizabeth Taylor, and a few seconds later, the three climb into my car. Annabelle and Blue crawl into the back two captain’s chairs, and Charlie sits shotgun.
No one says anything for a minute. Then Annabelle breaks the silence. “Sooooo…where’re we going?”
I open the console, pull out four tickets, and spread them in a fan. “Vegas, baby.”
No one says anything, which is great in my
book. I’m all about the shock value.
“Everyone, listen closely.” I pause to make sure I have their attention. “First, pull out your cell phones.”
Blue opens his mouth. “This is not going to—”
“I said, pull out your phones.” I roll my hand in the air. “Let’s go, let’s go. Move your asses.”
Annabelle smiles and pulls out her cell. Blue follows suit. Charlie doesn’t have a cell, but no biggie. She can borrow her girl’s. In fact, it’ll work out better that way.
I point to Annabelle. “Call your mom and tell her you’re staying the night with Charlie.” Then I point to Charlie. “Call Grams from Annabelle’s phone, and tell her you’re sleeping over at Annabelle’s.” Blue’s turn. “Blue, call your mommy. You’re staying the night with Dante Walker. I’m the new kid in town, and you feel sorry for me.”
They consider what I just said, and slowly, three smiles surround me.
I nod at Annabelle. “You first.”
Everyone makes their calls, and a few minutes later, Blue clicks his cell shut.
“So she said okay?” Annabelle asks him.
“Yeah,” he says, grinning. “I can’t freaking believe it. She never lets me stay out overnight during the week. But she got all sympathetic and stuff.”
“Wait,” Charlie says. “Are we going to make it back in time for school tomorrow?”
“Nope.” I hand them three notes from their parents explaining to the school that their kids are sick. “Your perfect attendance will finally pay off. No one in that school will think their golden children played hooky.”
The three take the notes from me and study them.
“They appear legit,” Annabelle announces. “Props.”
Charlie glances at me. “Well then,” she says. “What are we waiting for?”
…
The excitement is palpable as we drive to the Birmingham airport. I’ve got Eminem’s old stuff blasting through the speakers. Annabelle is throwing her head around, and her short black hair is flying through the air. Blue keeps pushing her away when she gets too close, but even he’s laughing. And for the first time, Charlie seems to be basking in the music’s beat, her body rocking back and forth in the seat.
This is my best idea to date.
We get to the airport, park, head inside, and wait to board the plane. Every few minutes monotone announcements come over the speakers. I keep hoping it’s our monotone announcement, saying it’s time.
“You still excited?” I ask Charlie, whose leg is spastically pumping up and down.
She stops moving her leg and shrugs a slender shoulder. “Eh, nothing I don’t do every day.”
“That right?”
Her eyes find mine, and I’m startled by how blue they are. They say everything she doesn’t. She’s thrilled. She’s alive.
She’s wondering what the hell she’s gotten herself into.
I start to slide my arm around her shoulders, but the attendant announces that it’s time to board. We grab our backpacks and walk down the long Jetway to the plane. When we get to the entrance, my crew goes too far. I reach out and grab Blue’s shoulder.
“We stop here,” I say.
He shakes my hand off. “This is first class.”
“Yeah,” I answer. “I don’t do coach.” Blue can’t hide the excitement on his face, though I know he’d love to.
“How are you this loaded?” Annabelle asks when she figures out where we’ll be sitting. “Is your dad like in the mafia?”
I cringe. “Something like that.”
She must notice the look on my face because she drops the subject.
Charlie and I sit together, and Annabelle and Blue sit across the aisle from us. The captain comes on and welcomes us and says how long it’ll be until we hit Sin City. Fifteen minutes later, the plane rolls gently down the runway.
Then it races.
Charlie’s face is pressed to the window, and right as the plane’s wheels leave the ground, she fumbles for my hand and squeezes. I glance down at her palm in mine, and my breath catches. I squeeze back. Holding hands is such an intimate gesture. One I’ve never really thought about before now. I stretch my fingers out and wrap them tighter around her cool skin. Her eyes never leave the window.
That’s what makes it okay.
Blue and Annabelle order food and drinks and just about everything the attendant offers them, and Charlie continues to stare at the clouds.
I lean toward her ear. “It’s beautiful, huh?”
Her head whips around, and for a second our faces are way too close. I quickly pull back.
“I’ve never flown before,” she says.
My head falls to one side. “Really? You guys never went on vacation?”
“Yeah, we did. We just always drove.”
“You like it?” I ask.
“Like what?”
“Flying.”
She turns and gazes out the window again. “I do.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Sin City
When we land in Las Vegas, Charlie is asleep. Her head rests against the window, her hair spilling over her face. I reach up and push it away. She doesn’t feel anything. No harm done.
The pilot comes on over the speaker again and startles her awake.
“Holy cow,” she murmurs. “I fell asleep. Are we here?”
I nod, and she leans forward to wave at Blue. Annabelle is also asleep, but unlike Charlie, her sleeping is less…blissful. She’s snoring and smacking, and Blue’s been putting bits of paper in her mouth.
Blue roughly shakes her awake.
Annabelle immediately swallows, and down the paper goes.
“That was so mean,” Charlie says in her sleepy voice.
Annabelle coughs and glares at Blue. “What did you do? Did I just swallow something?”
Blue pulls her into a hug. “You’re my best friend in the whole world.”
“Get off me, leech,” she says, smiling.
We get off the plane and head outside, where I hail a cab. In the distance, I can see the distinct pyramid shape and the light that shoots from its top. It’s a skyline I’ve seen many times before. Growing up with a father who’s always away and a liberal, free-spirited mother, it was easy to do as I pleased. And with more money at my disposal than any kid should have, my options were endless. Thinking back on my life, it’s a wonder I died the way I did. It was so…anticlimactic.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” Charlie says. She’s staring out the window at the skyline as we pull away from the curb. “It’s amazing.”
“It’s even better up close,” I say.
“I can’t believe we’re actually in Vegas,” Annabelle breathes. “I mean, seriously.”
“I know,” Blue says. He looks at Charlie, though I know he’s talking to me. “I’m glad we got to come.”
I smile. “Just wait until we get to the hotel.”
Twenty minutes later, the cabbie pulls up to V Hotel, Vegas’s newest gem. I pay the driver, and we grab our backpacks and head inside. The clang-clanging of slot machines rushes out to greet us, and as soon as we step foot in the lobby, Charlie starts pointing.
She gawks at the walls that change colors every few seconds and the chandelier made of clocks. She rubs her hands over the small, strategically placed beds that suggest all kinds of nasty things. And finally, she beams at the man behind the counter, who’s dressed in head-to-toe leather and handing me our room keys. I’d like to think his attire is due to Halloween this coming Sunday, but somehow I doubt it.
I give each person their own key, and Annabelle jumps up and down.
“Our own rooms?” she says. “Get. Out.”
“I won’t.”
We head down the hall, and Charlie shakes her hips to the pumping, pulsing music. The walls are lined in red velvet, and the floor is decked in black-and-white tile. Overhead, vintage records dangle in a chaotic pattern. The entire place is built for partying, which is exactly why I chose it.
Blue and I walk side by side. Every time a chick passes, his eyes nearly pop out of his head.
I lean toward him and whisper, “They make ’em kinda different here, don’t they?”
He straightens, and his face reddens, but he acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
Inside a glass elevator, I push the button for the thirtieth floor, and we shoot up. Every time we pass a new floor, the roof of the elevator changes colors. Annabelle and Charlie start announcing the colors as if we can’t see them for ourselves.
When we get to our floor, the girls rush out to see their rooms. I point Blue in the right direction, and he gives me a look like he resents the guidance. I’m not sure what it’ll take to win him over.
Nor do I care.
Annabelle and Charlie disappear into their rooms for about sixty seconds, then burst out and run into the other person’s room to see if anything’s different. It is. Each room has unique décor, though the entire floor’s theme is vanity.
Not sure how we ended up on this particular floor.
Oh, wait, yeah, I am.
I peek into Charlie’s room, and she is, of course, jumping on her bed. The wall behind the headboard is made entirely of glass, and behind it, the city is brilliant. Every time she jumps in the air, the city seems to hold her there. Like she’s one of the buildings. Like a sparkling new attraction.
Annabelle comes rushing in, but I stop her at the door.
“Hey,” I say. “You mind if I talk to Charlie for a sec?”
Some of the excitement drains from her face, but she nods. “Hey, Charlie,” she calls over my shoulder. “Come knock on my door when you’re done talking to Dante.”
“Anna, will you make sure everyone is in my room in two hours?” I ask her.
“Two hours? It’s, like, nine o’clock now. We’re not doing anything until eleven?”
“Correct. The cool kids show up late. That’s the way it works.” I wink and close the door.
Charlie drops down on the bed. She seems confused until I close the door behind Annabelle and sit across from her in a sky-blue loveseat. The enormous, posh room is decked out with mirrors. They smother the three non-glass walls, and even the chandelier is made of tiny circular mirrored plates. Scattered among the wall mirrors are photographs of famous people gazing at their reflections. Covering the black tile floor is a huge white shag rug, and outside there’s a balcony with a see-through floor.