The Deepest Roots Page 15

  The dark look on Lux’s face cracks with a laugh. “Never,” she says. “I’ve never been a chicken in my life.”

  There’s a scurry of light footsteps, and I know Mercy has joined her on the dock. “What are you doing?” Mercy huffs out. “What if we get caught? We’re not flat-chested ten-year-olds anymore.”

  “What if you stopped worrying, just for tonight?” I ask.

  Mercy removes her shirt, folding it neatly and setting it on top of her shoes, as if the sun-bleached wood of the dock might mar it. Lux shrugs off her clothes, her outline haloed in silver as the clouds drift away from the moon. Then she leaps off the edge of the dock, her body a pale blur before she hits the water.

  Mercy sighs and begins removing her pants. “I cannot believe we’re doing this.”

  “Prude,” I tease, kicking around until I’m facing the pasture and the dark silhouette of the old windmill against the starry sky.

  Lux surfaces next to me, gasping like she’s about to die. “Jesus, Rome, you didn’t tell me it was freezing in here.”

  “Why ruin a good surprise?” I ask, grinning.

  Even Mercy’s splash is tiny when her small, compact body hits the water. Lux floats on her back, her strawberry-blond hair making a dark halo around her head.

  Mercy surfaces near me with a gasp, her hair in flat curtains on each side of her face. “Oh!” she gasps, but she’s smiling, too. “It’s so, so c-cold!”

  I kick away, diving down again and coming back up to swim across the pond in smooth, even strokes. As she floats on the other side of the pond, Mercy begins to hum the tune to an old song we loved when we were thirteen, a haunting melody about a girl who runs away. It’s not long before I’m humming along, and then Lux’s silvery voice joins us in the darkness, and before I know it, we’re singing like when we were little girls again, not caring who might hear us out here. The moon lowers a little to get a closer listen, and the stars sway softly along with the refrain. When we sing there are no secrets between us, just days and months and years of moments like this one. When we finish the last refrain, I’m laughing, and so is Lux, and Mercy begins a rendition of a bawdy tune that we learned at Flynn’s bar, and song after song keeps us in this moment until we run out of breath and voice and the cows in the distance are mooing their disappointment that the concert is over.

  When we’re all exhausted, we make our way back to the dock and climb the old rusty ladder attached to the side. As I emerge from the dark water, my body feels heavy and slow.

  “That was so much fun,” Mercy laughs, her voice hoarse as she pulls her clothes back on. “Like when we were kids.”

  Lux reaches out and pushes a black, damp strand of hair that sticks to Mercy’s face, her face softer, less worried than before. Maybe all we needed was a trip down memory lane, the three of us doing something together only because it was stupid and fun.

  Later, I crawl into bed with Steven, my hair and skin still smelling of pond water, playing our songs over again in my head.

  Thirteen

  THE NEXT MORNING I DRIVE into Evanston with Mom, who is visibly nervous about her first day at the shop. So nervous, in fact, that we arrive at the shop thirty minutes early. While we wait for Red, she pelts me with questions about the day-to-day operations. She was confident last night, but the early light of day shines brightly into the pits and crevices of her fears. She wanted to wear the little black skirt again with some open-toed heels, but I convinced her that with all the tools and grease, open-toed heels and hand-wash clothing were not a good idea. So I let her borrow my nicest pair of jeans and a button-down shirt.

  She wore the heels anyway.

  “Maybe the IHOP is hiring now,” she babbles when we park in front of Red’s Auto. “I could waitress there. I’m good at it. Not everyone is good at it, you know.”

  “Mom, you did this. You got this job. There’s no going back. You’re not a waitress anymore. You’re an office manager.”

  Mom turns to me from the passenger seat, where she grips the same faux-leather purse she’s been carrying for eight years. “I can do this,” she says, her rusty-brown eyes finding mine.

  “You can do this.” And then I do something I never do. I hug my mom. I don’t know what’s coming over me lately. Maybe Mercy is rubbing off on me. It’s a quick hug, just a squeeze, and it makes Mom laugh. “God, Rome. I’m so scared. Thank you.”

  “You’re going to be great.”

  “What if I have a question? Can I text you?” The edge of panic is back in her voice.

  “Yeah,” I tell her. “I’ll put money back on my phone when I get to school.”

  “Oh, shit, shit, you need to be dropped off at school. I forgot.” She looks around at the car like it has somehow betrayed her.

  “I’m dropping you off,” I tell her. “You’re not going to need the car today. You’ll be at your job, remember?”

  Mom nods, swallowing hard.

  “You pack a lunch?” I ask, watching as Mom produces a peanut butter sandwich and a worn paperback from the depths of her purse. “Okay, then you’re good. I’ll be back after school for my shift.”

  Mom nods again, and I have this strange feeling that must be what she felt when she left me at kindergarten for the first time.

  Red pulls up in the parking stall next to us in his shiny Silverado. He waxes the truck with enough frequency that it gleams like onyx in the sun. He gives Mom a goofy wave, and somehow it’s enough to give Mom back the confidence she had last night.

  “See you later,” I tell Mom as she climbs out of the car. She smooths down her shirt and adjusts her purse on her arm, making sure that her paperback isn’t sticking out. Mom wants to make a good impression, and that strangely makes me proud of her. Sort of that kindergarten feeling again.

  “Bye!” she squeaks before she shuts the door and gives Red her megawatt smile.

  At school, I meet Mercy by her locker and give her twenty bucks. She hands me her credit card, and I hurry down to the computer lab to buy phone minutes before class starts.

  When I’m finished, I put Mercy’s card in my backpack for safekeeping. Checking the clock, I see I’ve got five more minutes before class starts, and I search online at the usual auto sale sites to see if Garrett’s listed the Mach anywhere. Nothing so far. My throat feels tight. I hope we can find the dowry chest in time.

  I glance at the clock again. I’m going to have to run. While I’m jogging down the hall, I power up my phone, wincing as it pings shrilly, alerting me to missed messages from Lux, Mercy, Mom, and Red. The school counselor yells at me to stop running, but I’ve already turned the corner and made it to Miss Strong’s class.

  As usual, Miss Strong is late. Lux is whispering to Morgan in the back row, and Jett isn’t here yet. I put my phone on silent before I send off one text to Lux and Mercy, Back in business.

  Lux reads the message and texts back, Is it Saturday yet?

  I reply, Can’t come soon enough. We need time travel.

  Jett sneaks in right behind Miss Strong when she enters. My stomach does a little flip when I see that he’s had his hair cut and it looks like he’s wearing a new shirt beneath his school blazer. I’d packed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt in my bag to wear on our date. Shit, shit, shit.

  “Lux,” I whisper as Miss Strong begins writing the homework on the board.

  “What?” she asks, shooting daggers at me with her eyes since I’ve interrupted her flirt session with Morgan.

  “Do you have anything I could wear on a date?”

  “Like, on me right now?” she asks, holding out her hands incredulously.

  “Like at school? In your gym locker or something?”

  “Wait, did you say date?” she asks, her interest piqued. “On a Thursday night? With who?”

  “Jett. I thought we were just super-casually grabbing something to eat after I finish work and he finished practice, but it looks like he’s wearing a new shirt under his blazer. And he got his hair cut. Can you help me ou
t?”

  “What, you don’t want to wear your mechanic’s coveralls?”

  I shoot her an irritated look. “You talk big for someone who’s unemployed.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, okay?” she replies with a grin.

  But then my phone vibrates. It’s a text from Mom:

  I ANSWERED THE PHONE! NOTHING EXPLODED OR ANYTHING!

  After class, Lux stops me by our lockers. This is normally the time I shuffle off to the library and she sprints across the school to her Family and Consumer Science class so that she’s not late, so I know something is wrong.

  “Mom just texted me. She’s says Aaron’s pissed. Even more than before. He wasn’t wrong about somebody messing with his truck. The mechanic called and it looks like someone put bleach in his gas tank.”

  “Bleach?” I ask as innocently as possible.

  “I guess they’re going to have to flush out the whole fuel system. The tank is all rusty. Aaron is beyond furious now. He thinks . . . he thinks maybe one of us had something to do with it.”

  “That’s stupid,” I reply. “You don’t know the first thing about cars.”

  “Yeah, Rome. But you do. Did you do it? Did you screw up his truck?”

  I look away from Lux, because even though her Siren talents don’t work on me, she’s still one of my two best friends, and when she looks at me like that, I have a hard time lying to her. “No, of course not. Must have been some punk kid who did it as a prank.”

  “Rome, this is exactly like something you would do. Especially after . . .” Lux lets her voice trail off, and I know without her saying it that she means the night I found out Aaron hit her. “You can’t just go around deciding to get revenge on whoever pisses you off. This is my life. Not yours.”

  “There’s no proof that I did it, is there?” I ask, my voice higher in pitch than I would like. “Aaron’s got no proof that it was you. Or me or Mercy.”

  “Mom says maybe I should stay somewhere else tonight.”

  “Why should you have to stay somewhere else?” I ask. “Your mom should kick him out. This is complete crap that you have to hide from him.”

  Lux’s temper flares. “She’s doing what she can, Rome. Not all of us are Stella, dropping men left and right.”

  “My mom may not be perfect, but she’s not afraid to get rid of a man who’s a jerk. And she’d never let one of them lay a hand on me.”

  “Not everyone wants to live in a tin can on the edge of town, Rome. Some of us have higher aspirations.” Her words might as well have been dipped in acid. She knows all of my soft spots, those tender hollows beneath my armor.

  “So you let him use you as a punching bag as long as he brings home enough money for you to have your stupid fancy shoes? You know what? I don’t even like these,” I add, pointing down at the ballet flats I’m still borrowing from her. I’d like to take them off and throw them at her, but I need them too much, which infuriates me even more. “I think they’re ugly.” I throw in that last part just to piss her off.

  Lux’s face flushes bright red. “I’d make you give them back right here and now, but I’m not sure you could hobble down barefoot to the Dollar Tree to buy new ones.”

  I slam my locker door shut before I turn on my heel and leave her standing in the hallway alone. Crowds of students press around us, creating distance and noise, unaware that we’re drifting apart anyway.

  The mezzanine isn’t much better. I’m still furious at Lux, and when Mercy arrives, I lash out without thinking. “What are you doing here?” I ask. “Shouldn’t you be studying for Yale or some shit?” Lux’s words from yesterday by the creek echo in my brain. Mercy will leave us one day. We’ve always been preparing for that.

  Mercy recoils, her dark eyebrows somewhere in the stratosphere.

  But she’s not my friend for nothing and she’s far stronger than she looks. “Yeah, maybe I should be. And then when you remember how to act like a decent human being, you can talk to me again.”

  She manages to pull me back to logic and reason. “I’m sorry,” I sputter. “I shouldn’t have said that to you. It’s Lux. We had a fight, and I’m still mad.”

  “Well, don’t take it out on me. I’m just here to see if you want to study for chemistry.”

  “I want to light chemistry on fire.”

  “So is that a no?” she asks, barely containing her smile. She sits down next to me at the table, and I know that she’s ready to listen.

  I unload my tale about my date with Jett tonight and then about Lux and me fighting. I spill that Lux thinks maybe I’m the one who put the bleach in Aaron’s gas tank. I tell Mercy I’m angry at Lux, too, because she made me lose my shoes yesterday, which is really only a tiny part of it all. But I don’t tell Mercy everything that’s happened between Lux and me lately. I don’t break my promises, even when I’m angry.

  “Why would you do anything to his truck?” Mercy asks. “Just because you’re a mechanic doesn’t mean you’d mess up his truck.”

  I shrug.

  “I mean, he was very rude when we stopped by yesterday, but his truck was vandalized before that.”

  “Maybe he crossed the wrong person,” I answer cryptically. “Maybe he deserved it.”

  Mercy sighs. “I feel like you two are hiding things from me. More than just the stuff about Aaron’s shifts getting cut. I know you think that I don’t understand what you go through, but at least let me try, Rome.”

  I ignore the curl of guilt that coils itself in my chest. “You should still be angry at us, anyway. Especially after what Lux said yesterday.”

  “About me leaving you to go to some fancy college?” Mercy asks. “We don’t know that for sure, Rome. And it’s not like I’m the only one of the three of us who could go to college. You and Lux talk like everything’s already decided, and you’re going to keep on going forever like you are now.”

  I shrug. I guess I thought we would. Lux and I would always be in Cottonwood Hollow. I’d keep being a mechanic, and Lux would . . . well, she’d watch her reality TV shows and get her nails done every Saturday afternoon with Tina.

  “Don’t close doors before you get to them. You could go to college and get a job designing Mustangs for Ford. You could own your own auto shop. You could do anything you want, Rome.”

  By the end of the school day, it’s Mercy and not Lux who helps me out of my date dilemma. She meets me by Mom’s car in the parking lot, and she’s carrying a halter top and Lux’s makeup bag.

  “How’d you get this?” I ask her.

  “Lux,” she sighs. “She borrowed the top from Morgan, who had it in her locker. And of course the makeup is Lux’s.”

  “Did you tell her it was for me?” I ask.

  “Of course I did. You two may be mad at each other, but you’re just alike. Neither one of you wants to wound the other permanently. Just temporarily.”

  “Well, you can tell her I said thank you,” I announce. “But I’m not ready to apologize today.”

  “I’m not going to be the go-between for you two. Tomorrow you’ll bring this all back and you’ll offer to Fix Aaron’s truck if he hasn’t had it done already. Even if you didn’t mess it up, it’s the right thing to do. It will help Lux’s family, and it’ll show her you care about her.”

  As if I would ever consider Fixing Aaron’s truck. I’d die before I did it.

  “I can’t Fix it,” I mutter darkly, taking the top and makeup from Mercy.

  Mercy sighs. “Try, Rome. Try for me and Lux. And she texted again about Saturday. We’re going to meet at my house at nine in the morning. She said to tell you because she’s not speaking to you, either.”

  We’ve fought before, but never over secrets like these.

  Fourteen

  AT EIGHT O’CLOCK, I SCURRY out from under the Toyota I’m working on at the shop and lock myself in the bathroom. I change into the black halter top and shimmy into my old jeans. I wash my hands and check my face for grease smudges before I use Lux’s makeup ba
g to add a little liner, eye shadow, and lip gloss. Damn it, Lux has nice makeup. I pull out my ponytail and fluff up my curls before I leave the bathroom. There’s a mini body spray that I use to help mask the smell of grease and metal.

  Unfortunately, Mom and Red are still in the office. She did really well on her first day, and she’s practically glowing with pride. They’ve already closed down and locked the bay doors. The only way out is through the office, so there’s no escaping them now.

  Red asks, “Is that what you wore to school today?”

  “She’s going on a date,” Mom answers for him. She’s grinning slyly because she already knows it’s not a Cottonwood Hollow boy, or she would have heard it around town already.

  “I’m going out,” I confirm, looking at Mom.

  “Who is he?” Red asks, frowning.

  “The Challenger guy,” I answer, knowing he’s more likely to remember a car than a name.

  “Helicopter?” he asks.

  “Jett,” I correct, but I can’t suppress my smile.

  “Is he coming here to pick you up?” Mom asks, practically dancing with excitement.

  “Yes, but don’t talk to him. Or look at him. Or anything,” I warn her.

  “Well, we should at least get to say hello,” Mom says. “I’m your mother, you know.”

  “Where is he taking you?” Red asks, still frowning. “When will you be back?”

  “He’s taking me out to dinner, Dad,” I drawl, just so he knows how out of line he is. I don’t smile, even though I want to. It’s actually kind of nice that he cares so much.

  When I go outside, I find Jett is already in the parking lot. He gets out of the car and calls out a friendly hello.

  “Hey,” I reply, looking over my shoulder. Waiting inside and giving me some privacy is probably something that never occurred to Mom and Red. Instead, they’re locking the office door slowly, shooting glances our way and whispering back and forth.

  “Do you need to say good-bye or anything?” Jett asks when he catches sight of them. He’s wearing the new button-down shirt that was under his blazer this morning, nice jeans, and is obviously freshly showered after practice.