More Than Good Enough(37)

“I saw your headlights,” she said. “It freaked me out because I was watching this old movie about a car that’s, like, possessed or something. Why are you here, anyway?”

“Does that mean you’re not excited to see me?”

“No, I’m very excited,” she said. “Oh my god. Sorry. My bad. That sounded really weird.”

“It’s all good,” I said. “Hey, I can’t believe you saved those stupid rocks. You could make a necklace out of them.”

“True. But I’m allergic to jewelry. Thanks for coming over to rescue me. That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Any time, homeslice. You know what this means, right? Now you owe me a ‘life debt.’ That’s the samurai code,” I said, smoothing her hair away from her face. “What color is this exactly?”

“Ultra violet.”

“I might want to dye my hair violet someday.”

“That was some serious random.” Pippa laughed.

Why couldn’t it be this easy all the time? Standing in her front yard, surrounded by all those perfect lawns, it felt like we’d never stopped talking. When we were together, the conversation always picked up where we left off.

“I’ve been calling like crazy, trying to reach you,” I said. “Kind of stalkerish, I know.”

“My phone’s been out of action, thanks to my mom’s insane paranoia. Me and her got into it. It was pretty bad.” She didn’t explain more. There were no words to erase what happened.

“Let’s chill in the Yeti,” I said, folding her hand around mine. “No reason to broadcast this data.” I walked her to the passenger side. When we reached the door, her shoulder bumped mine. “Ladies first,” I said.

“So do I need a password to get in?”

“Nah. You’re a VIP,” I said as she climbed in. I scooted in my side, but she was miles away, sinking into her own personal black hole. “Sorry,” I finally said.

“For what?”

“For everything. I didn’t want you to see that shit.”

“Actually, it’s not your fault, Trent. Don’t even go there. And for the record, I’m not into judging people for stuff they have no control over.”

“I know. But your family doesn’t act like that. They’re normal. I mean, you’re so lucky. You have no idea.”

“‘Normal’ doesn’t happen in real life. It only makes sense in the movies. Like, if you’re driving along a deserted road in a thunderstorm, there’s always a motel at the next exit. But it’s usually haunted.”

“Or populated by axe-wielding serial killers,” I said, pushing my seat back.

“Or both.”

“The Miccosukees don’t believe in curses,” I said. “You’re in charge of your own life, right? Nothing can mess with you. Not unless you let it.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed in that stuff. What did I know about my Miccosukee family? Alligator keychains and beaded moccasins, my uncle’s wrestling show for the tourists with their cameras, ready to catch their twenty-dollar glimpse of the real Florida.

“How often does your dad freak out like that?” Pippa seemed embarrassed, asking this question.

“He’s never hit me before, if that’s what you mean.”

“What are you going to do now?”

I looked away. “I don’t know.”

“You can’t stay there, Trent. He’ll do it again.”

“He was drunk, okay? Things got out of control.”

Back when we used to listen for the Wendigo, I couldn’t imagine anything more dangerous than a flesh-eating monster. Now I knew the world was so much scarier than any creature I’d shaped inside my mind.

Pippa sighed. “It’s pretty obvious you’re defending him.”

“So what? He’s still my dad. What the hell am I supposed to do? The cops don’t care. This isn’t the first time they’ve come to his house.”

“It isn’t?”

I shook my head. “It’s usually the people down the street, calling in a noise complaint or whatever. But I guess murderers and drug dealers take priority over drunks.” I raked my fingers through my hair. “I’m really sorry. This sucks so bad.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry.”

“I wanted to show you things,” I said, tracing her knee.

“You did.”

I tipped my face against her neck, inhaling the peppery scent of her skin. Then we were kissing again. I slid my fingers toward her waist, just resting them there as we held each other. The backyard turned quiet and empty, like something you don’t notice until it’s gone.





thirteen



She owned me.

If this girl told me to jump into Biscayne Bay, take a flying leap off the causeway, and swim with the sharks, I would have done it. Gladly. There was no way to explain it. I’d been spinning my wheels. Looking for what? I couldn’t tell you. Now I was in the safest place I knew. Damn, it felt good, holding her close.

I tugged the zipper on her sweatshirt and slid my hands inside. I wanted to feel her skin. I tilted back the seat as Pippa straddled my lap. She sank down, pressing her hips against me as I shifted my weight and prayed I didn’t explode. I tried to concentrate on the seat buckle digging into my biceps, the distant wail of a car alarm toggling between octaves. Anything to keep my dark energy under control.