Heroine(59)

Got us covered. See you Friday?

There it is again, that question mark, like maybe I’ll let her down.

Damn straight, I answer.

Cool, she types immediately. Ready for this.

There’s not a question mark after that one, and as I settle into bed I can hear Mom pacing downstairs, something she usually only does when she’s got a feeling there’s something wrong with a patient, but can’t put her finger on exactly what.

After that, it’s not a question for me, either.





Chapter Thirty-Seven


lead: to guide or conduct, as going before, showing, influencing, or directing with authority Fridays used to mean getting pizza with Carolina and bingeing something on Netflix, but the last pizza we got together ended up in a field next to my upside-down car and I’m pretty sure Aaron is the only person she watches Netflix with these days, if that’s what they’re actually doing.

Now my Fridays mean telling Mom I’m hanging out with Jodie from physical therapy and driving to Edith’s with a curious mix of guilt and anticipation in my gut. I don’t know how long the fictional Jodie will hold up against her new suspicions, but using Carolina or any of the other girls could blow up in my face on both sides, and I doubt Mom would believe I’m spending the night at Dad’s after what happened last time I went over there.

“Jodie, really?” Josie asks.

“Nice cover,” Derrick agrees, laughing.

“Hey, if the truth is the easiest thing to remember, then the next best thing is a lie that’s almost true, right?” Luther says, in my defense.

“Whatever,” Josie says, checking her phone again.

“So . . . what’s the deal here?” I ask.

“The deal is that I’ve got more balls than these two,” Josie says, arching a brow at the boys. “They don’t want to risk being seen buying Oxy? Fine. I’m leveling up and taking you all with me.”

I can’t help but notice a little bit of Jadine in her tone, like talking to her sister over the weekend might have rubbed off.

“Leveling up?” Luther asks, glancing uneasily at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Heroin,” Josie says lightly, and now I definitely recognize her older sister’s nonchalance in the way she says it.

“Whoa, hold up,” Derrick says. “You know I’d follow you just about anywhere—”

“Mostly just to look at your ass,” Luther adds.

“But I’m not hitting up some corner just to impress you,” Derrick finishes.

“You don’t have to.” Josie shrugs. “This guy delivers.”

“Delivers?” Edith sits up in her chair, suddenly invested in the conversation.

“Wait, like a pizza?” Luther asks.

“Yes, like a pizza,” Josie says patiently. “And yes, Edes, he’s on the way.”

“I don’t need another car in the driveway,” Edith says. “Yesterday when I was getting the mail Mr. Baylor said it seems like my family is getting bigger all the time.”

“Yeah, he’s a dick,” Luther says.

“He is,” Edith agrees. “But I don’t need him being a suspicious dick.”

“Don’t worry, I think this guy is pretty good at being discreet,” Josie says, tapping a text into her phone. “He’ll be here in two minutes, and I’m not telling him to turn around, like a pussy.”

Luther and Derrick share a glance.

“Okay, but . . . ,” Derrick says, suddenly sheepish. “I don’t even know how to—”

“We do,” Josie says, waving a hand between the two of us. “Mickey and I shot up last week.” While that’s not exactly true—we did use a needle, but we weren’t doing heroin—the looks on the boys’ faces leave me without words, my usual resting place.

Derrick is impressed. Luther is disappointed.

I want to explain to him—somehow—but a pair of headlights sweeps across the living room before I can come up with anything. Edith mutters something under her breath, but stays in the chair when Josie goes to answer the back door. I follow her, Derrick and Luther trailing me. There’s a quick, polite tap on the screen door and Josie opens it to let him in.

“Um . . . Patrick?” she asks, glancing down at her phone.

“Yep,” he confirms. “Josie?”

“Yeah, hi,” she says, blushing a little bit.

“All right, so . . .” Patrick’s eyes sweep over the four of us, making an assessment. “You guys have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

“No,” I say, and it’s Josie’s turn to smack someone.

“What?” I complain, rubbing my arm. “We don’t. Might as well be straight with him.”

“It’s cool,” Patrick says. “Somewhere we can sit?”

Josie starts clearing the table of place mats and the salt and pepper shakers, like we’re all going to sit down and do math homework together or something. I take a minute to look at Patrick, trying to place him. There’s something in the line of his jaw, lightly covered in stubble two shades darker than his blond hair, that has me convinced I know him, but I’m not sure from where.

Casually, he reaches into his cheek and pulls out a balloon.