I save the information about the house on the list I just created calledWhat I know about River.
It’s not even YOUR car, I type and hold the text under his nose, feeling somewhat triumphant. I have no idea why I do that. Probably because he said he wanted to save me when he believed I was sleeping.
He turns his head toward me, his blue eyes sparkling unfathomably in the dim light. They seem almost black. I have to look away because his gaze is so intense.
“I’m borrowing it, Kentucky, not stealing it,” he replies calmly. “How would you know anyway? You think I couldn’t afford it?”
With so many questions floating through my head, I don’t fall asleep for a long time. At some point, River begins texting again. Sometimes, I hear a quiet bing announcing a message, so he’s actually conversing with someone.
After a while, the noises become hypnotic, and I hear them as if they are far off. I’m exhausted, my head filled with vast plains, wind, and River’s eyes.
I never sleep,I hear him whispering in my mind. AndI’m borrowing it, not stealing it.
Chester would definitely kill him, but strangely, I don’t think anymore about him or the Hills. I don’t even think about the letter I wanted to write to Dad anymore. I no longer want to go home.
Chapter 6
The metal of the bucket presses against my neck. It’s happening so quickly. I hear the gurgling, feel the water pooling over my head, and panic. I don’t know if I’m breathing in, breathing out, or holding my breath. I thrash, choke, and try to get up, but a hand holds me down relentlessly. I cannot breathe. My head explodes, and the water rises up my nose. I want to scream, but all I can do is swallow water. Always water. Air bubbles burst everywhere, and red circles flash between them like sparks. Spark. Sparks and water.
I sit up in silent horror and hit my head on something soft. My racing heart almost kills me.Calm down! You aren’t drowning. It’ll stop eventually.
Confused, I glance right and left and don’t know where I am, but then I recognize the fluttering tent flap.Just a dream. Oh my God, it was just a dream.
I suck in the air convulsively and blink a few times. River’s sleeping place is disheveled but empty.
I shakily put my hands over my face and wait for the tremors to subside.You were dreaming. Everything is okay. You don’t have to go to school.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but when I lower my hands, I see a leather jacket that obviously belongs to River, a plastic container of iced coffee, and prepackaged cookies with a note stuck to it—For you.
None of this seems real to me. For a moment, I’m afraid that River isn’t real, just imaginary. Are there illnesses that make you imagine other people so realistically? But then I wouldn’t be sitting in this tent right now. Or would I?
Since I don’t have any appetite after the nightmare, I dig my cell phone out of my pocket. The battery icon flashes yellow, showing only thirty percent left.Damn.I’ll need to use my last dollars to buy a charging cable today. Besides, it’s already nine o’clock, so hopefully, the school hasn’t called Dad yet.
I quickly check my new messages.
James, yesterday:There’s no Samantha at your school, damn it. Arizona and I thought it was strange since you’ve never mentioned a friend, so we investigated. Tell me where you are now or I’ll tell Dad! Are you with some guy? Just because you don’t have any friends doesn’t mean you have to jump into bed with every guy. They’re just taking advantage of you. Believe me, I know!
Even if I had words, I would be speechless right now. So, Arizona and James did some research? Thanks. I thought I was more irrelevant to Arizona than winter clothes in the desert.
What makes you think I’d jump into bed with anyone?I write back angrily.Who says something like that? And since when are you even interested in what I do or don’t do?
I click on the next message from Mr. Spock:Kansas? Hey, are you okay? Get in touch! Mister X broke my arm yesterday. Elbow and radial bone straight through. I told Mom I fell off my bike, which they demolished too.
Mr. Spock calls his tormentor Mister X because he doesn’t dare name him in a chat; they might check his phone. I immediately feel guilty because I didn’t contact him.
You can’t go on like this,I text back.Did you have to go to school today? Your mom worked double shifts for a long time to get you that bike. I hope her insurance will pay for it.I think for a moment, then type,You have to report them. I’m serious. Please! I’m doing fine.
According to Mr. Spock, his school is in a socially disadvantaged area, and so much revolves around money. Now they’re extorting cash from him. If Spock doesn’t deliver, he gets beaten. At one point, Spock’s mother was suspected of abusing him, so he just kept saying he was clumsy and constantly hurting himself. I know his mom is seriously ill with a tumor in her lungs, but she had surgery. Maybe she still has a chance. Of course, he doesn’t want to burden her, but at least his mom would believe him if he told her the truth. His mom loves him.
I wrap my arms around myself for a moment, but I let go when I feel all the bruises.
I would love to know if Arizona is turning James against me! Maybe she told him that crap. My gaze falls on the newspaper next to the sleeping bag.
I scan the headlines again and look at the photo of Asher Blackwell in dark clothes and scary makeup. It’s a snapshot from a concert where he’s kneeling at the edge of the stage, one arm stretched out toward the audience, who are feverishly cheering. The singer’s fingers are open invitingly as if he wants to reach out to the whole world. He’s a fixed star to them like Arizona is. He’s their sun. The exact opposite of me and Mr. Spock.
There’s no picture of Ben Adams on the front page or Meredith Fox, or the star witness Taylor Harden. Well, I guess there are no more photos of Taylor at all, because that wouldprobably put him in danger. Maybe they’ve already given him a new look.
I know it’s about a motorcycle club drug syndicate. His testimony could lead to the arrest of legendary drug lord Al Ripani. But apparently, someone sent him a letter with a four-inch-long Kalashnikov cartridge as a warning shortly before his testimony. I think that would have made anyone flee.
