All the Little Lights(60)

“It’s just lunch. We’re not gonna go to your house.”

“This won’t end well.”

“You don’t know that. You deserve friends, Catherine. Maddy said she’s always thought you were nice. Her parents are overbearing, so she won’t even ask to come to the Juniper because she can’t. Sam is on the football team, and he’s really cool. He’s not a ’roid freak like the rest of those idiots. That’s why I picked them. C’mon. Please?”

“You picked them? What are you doing? You’re shopping for friends for us now? Am I too boring to hang out with alone?”

“No. That’s not it at all. I’ve already told you why. You deserve friends.”

I sighed in resignation. Elliott’s mouth stretched across his face in a wide grin, and he reached for the passenger side, pulling on the handle.

I slid in next to Madison and fastened my seat belt, hearing Elliott slam the back door behind me. My seat inched back as he used it to lean forward, and then he kissed me quickly on the cheek.

“So,” Madison said, “Sonic or Braum’s? Braum’s or Sonic?”

“Sonic,” Sam said from the back.

Madison backed out of her spot and pulled forward, driving cautiously with the parking lot traffic. Madison flipped on her blinker, and once we arrived at the stop sign, she barely paused before taking off.

“We still need to get you some driving time in,” Elliott said.

“You don’t have your license yet?” Madison asked, judgment absent from her voice.

I shook my head. “I was supposed to learn in my dad’s Buick, but it’s sort of been sitting in the yard since . . .”

“Oh right. Since he died,” Sam said.

I was glad I couldn’t see Elliott’s face. I knew this short lunch trip was meant to be a trial run. He’d been asked to several parties and turned them down because he refused to go without me. It was a sweet gesture, but I couldn’t help but feel he was missing out.

“Yeah,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“So your house,” Sam began. “Is it really haunted?”

Madison covered the giggle bubbling from her mouth. She pressed on the brakes, stopping at the first of the only four stoplights in Oak Creek. “Sam! Don’t be stupid!”

Sam sat forward. “We watch Paranormal Ghost Homes every Sunday night. It’s kind of our thing. We think it’s pretty cool if it is.”

“It’s not haunted,” I said, seeing Presley’s white Mini Cooper sitting next to us. I tried not to stare, but from the corner of my eye, I could see the excitement and activity under the convertible’s top.

Madison turned and made a face. “Are they all having seizures?” she asked, rolling down my window with a push of a button.

The cold air breached the vehicle, instantly burning my skin.

“What?” Madison called.

I sat back, making it clear that I had no intention of engaging.

“Oh my God, Maddy! Does your mother know you’re giving rides to hobos?” Presley asked. The clones cackled loudly.

Madison turned to glance at Elliott. I couldn’t see his face, but gauging by Madison’s response, he wasn’t happy. “Shut your whore mouth!” she yelled. The words didn’t match her high-pitched, sweet voice.

Elliott and Sam burst into laughter. My mouth fell open, just like Presley’s and her friends’.

Madison pressed the button again. The passenger-side window finished its rise to the top as she began to speak. “Ugh. Ignore them. Tatum likes Elliott, so they’re on a mission to make you miserable.”

“Good to know that hasn’t changed,” I said under my breath.

“What? What do you mean?” she asked.

Elliott spoke up. “They’ve been giving her a hard time for years.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. Did you know that, Sam?” Madison asked, looking at him in the rearview mirror.

“No, but I’m not surprised. The whole football team calls them the Brubitches.”

Madison frowned. “Brubitches? Oh, because Presley’s last name is Brubaker—got it.” She giggled. “Good one.” The light turned green, and she pressed on the gas. The lights seemed to keep changing for her until we reached the northeast corner of town. Madison turned the 4Runner left toward Sonic and then whipped her car to the right, jerking the car into the first open space she found.

“Sorry for the terrible driving,” she said. “We got a late start, so I wanted to make sure we snagged a spot.” She rolled down her window, and once again, the air bit at my nose and cheeks.

Madison reached down to press the button on the speaker box and then turned to us. “What does everyone want?”

“Cheeseburger,” Elliott said.

“Cheeseburger,” Sam said.

Madison waited for me to answer, but the speaker began to squawk.

“Welcome to Sonic, may I take your order?”

“Um,” Madison hummed. “Two cheeseburger meals.”

“Number one or two?” the girl on the other end of the speaker asked.

“Mustard,” both boys said.

“Twos,” Madison said. “A Chili Cheese Coney, and . . .”