Broken Beautiful Hearts(77)

The cheerleaders break down the pyramid in reverse order, beginning with Grace. As each tier disassembles, the girls from that tier finish with stunts. When the girls at the bottom do handsprings across the field, the crowd applauds.

Owen slides his hand off mine so we can clap, too.

“I don’t know why April is the team captain,” I say. “The whole routine builds up to the pyramid and Grace’s big finish. Without her, they’d just be a bunch of girls doing cool flips and back handsprings.”

“True,” Owen agrees.

“That’s why the flier is so important,” Tucker explains.

If Grace has a key position on the squad, why is she worried about April leaving her out of their routines?

“What if Grace was sick or something? Could one of the other girls fill in?” I ask.

Tucker steps on the end of the skateboard at his feet and catches the top with his hand. “Not unless there’s another flier on the squad. Bigger schools usually have at least two. Black Water had two fliers last year, but the other girl graduated.”

“So without Grace, the squad would be screwed?”

Tucker nods. “Pretty much. And they’ve won the state finals two years in a row. The group stunt is a big part of that.”

Grace must know the importance of her position. Why does she put up with April’s crap?

“Do you have sisters?” I ask Tucker.

He gives me a weird look as he passes his board back and forth from one hand to the other. “No. Why?”

I try not to smile. “You know a lot about this stuff for a guy who isn’t on the cheer squad and doesn’t have any sisters—or a crush on a cheerleader.”

Tucker stifles a smile. “Okay, maybe a little one.”

“Another takedown by Cameron Carter!” the announcer shouts through the loudspeaker.

On the field, Cam springs to his feet, freeing the player pinned beneath him. Christian and Titan rush over and take turns shoving Cameron, grabbing the front of his helmet, and shouting at him—universal signs of approval in the language of football. I’m not interested in the sport, but watching my cousins play is impressive.

“I wonder what it’s like to be that big.” Tucker steps on the end of his skateboard again. When the front flips up he reverses the sequence, doing it over and over, the way some people pace or twirl their hair.

“Lots of girls don’t like big, overdeveloped guys,” I tell him. “They usually spend more time in the gym than they do with their girlfriends.”

“Is that so?” Owen asks. He’s almost the same size as the Twins.

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

Tucker grins and steps on the board again. “You’re coming to the party after the game, right?”

Owen waits for my answer.

“Whose barn are we going to this time?” I ask.

“This is way cooler,” Tucker explains. “It’s at an abandoned grain mill outside of town. It was shut down two years ago when the new grain processing plant opened in Black Water. A mill isn’t really good for anything else, so the place has been empty since then. It’s the kind of place urban explorers are always trying to find. Half wrecked and full of rusty machinery.”

“And people throw parties there?” In DC, the police would be all over a spot like that, and the party would last five minutes. “Won’t someone hear the noise and call the cops?”

“Nobody ever goes back there,” Owen says. “One side of the building is condemned.”

“Why didn’t you say so? That makes it so much more appealing.”

Owen leans over and brings his mouth so close to my ear that his breath tickles my neck. “I can think of a way to make it even more appealing. Come with us.”

He must know what he’s doing to me.

The fact that Owen wants me to go makes me happy and scares me at the same time. I shove him away playfully. “I’ll think about it.”

Tucker looks at Owen. “That’s girl code for yes.”





CHAPTER 32

Urban Explorers

BATTERY-OPERATED LANTERNS ARE scattered throughout the main section of the huge factory. Metal skeletons of abandoned machinery create a dangerous maze, and the place smells like a cross between wet newspaper and a petting zoo.

“It stinks in here.” I scrunch up my nose.

The Twins sniff the air like bloodhounds.

“Smells okay to me,” Christian says.

Cam shrugs. “Me too.”

“It’s rot, from the residue in the machines,” Grace explains.

“Oh, that smell. That’s normal.” Christian surveys the room. “Let’s find the keg.”

Grace follows him, with Cam glued to her side.

Owen and I hang back with Tucker, who is watching the door intently.

“Are you waiting for someone?” I ask.

Tucker looks behind him, as if he thinks I’m talking to someone else. “Me? No.”

Owen tries not to laugh and ushers us in the direction where Grace and the Twins went.

“So what do you think?” Tucker asks. “It’s cool, right?”

“Yeah. But I see why it’s condemned.” We pass what looks like a rusted printing press. “I should’ve gotten a tetanus shot.”