“Clark Davenport only cares about his reputation, nothing more. Satisfied now?”
I nod, and he pulls me into his arms.
“Me and kissing?” he whispers in my ear, and I feel his warm breath in the cool of the night. Goosebumps run down my spine, and when he kisses me, he picks me up and carries me into the warmth. I’m the happiest girl in all of Nevada. This is River McFarley, my rescuer, and if we want, the whole world is ours. We can also be life companions instead of death companions.
I just know that.
Chapter 23
The next morning, River pushes the Yamaha to a repair shop, where a mechanic named Eddy replaces the spark plugs before we continue toward Las Vegas. The desert valleys of Nevada transform into a vast plain, with nothing but dry clay soil and sagebrush. Dust swirls around us, settling in our hair and every crease. My fragile feeling of happiness continues, even if I notice that River is looking around more often today. I blame it on his late-night phone conversation. After all, there was an ultimatum, and it may expire in these hours.
Although he hasn’t told me, I think he’s supposed to meet his friends somewhere. As I understand it now, they had previously located him using GPS on his cell phone. He had downloaded an app so that he could be alone for a few weeks, but they still knew where he was. But then he must have turned off the GPS or deleted the app. And after that, his phone was wet and turned off most of the time, so they could never locate him. But why did he allow it to begin with and then suddenly change his mind? Maybe they got on his nerves, or he did something he shouldn’t have done—no girl!
Why no girl? What does he do with girls? I try to recall his friends’ words as they chased after us at the lake, but I can’t remember. All I know is that they said I would fall in love with him—which is what happened—and that he only leaves behind broken pieces—which didn’t happen.
I wonder why his father wants to find him so badly now when he didn’t care months or years ago. In my heart of hearts, I know there must be something more to it. One more truth that I don’t know. And maybe I don’t even want to know. Maybe River will tell me everything when he’s ready.
When we stop at a gas station just outside Las Vegas, he looks around again, but there’s just a bus refueling at the fuel pump for trucks, withCityVoyager Tourslogo emblazoned on its side. Still sitting on the Yamaha, my legs on either side of the ground, I take off my helmet and hang it on my forearm.
What will we actually do once we find my mom and that item on the list is checked off?I type.
River winks at me. “Then all you have to do is say ‘I love you’to someone. Then we’ll find a highline in Yosemite.” He says it so naturally, as if it’s something that shouldn’t be questioned. However, I now realize that I have a trump card in my hand withI love you. As long as I don’t say it, the list isn’t completed.
“Hey, we don’t have to jump, Tucks.” River lovingly ruffles my hair. This is something that belongs to him. And every time, it reassures me, as if he’s saying,It’s okay, baby, don’t worry. The way he says we don’t have to jump, like it’s just a matter of choosing a flavor of ice cream. You don’t have to eat walnut ice cream; you could go for pistachio...
And if we don’t jump, what will we do?I type.
River shrugs and takes off the helmet. “We’ll see when the time comes. Maybe I’ll beat the truth out of Ches first.”
I just shake my head. He doesn’t know what happens next; he has no plan at all. I watch thoughtfully as he disappears into thelittle building to pay, the helmet casually in his right hand. I rub my temples. The Nevada sun beats down on the top of my head, eroding my ability to think.
Why no girl?
Still alive for you, June.
I can’t find the answers, not without River.
I quickly check my cell phone to see if Mr. Spock has finally written back. Apparently, there are no cell towers here.Damn!I also wanted to google something about depression and lithium.
I put the phone away and watch River, who first browses the candy and then strolls past the magazine rack. Like at Knotty Oak, a group of girls targets him. They put their heads together, and a blonde with a bright red giant lollipop waves her hands excitedly in the air while she talks to her friends.
Sighing inwardly, I turn away, looking at the old-fashioned gas pumps, the dusty ground, and the flicker of heat on the horizon, and consider talking to myself when I suddenly hear River calling.
“Start the engine! Quickly!” I glance in his direction. He’s just pushed open the door, a look of wild panic on his face. Did he steal something?
Behind him, I see the girls. One has her mouth open like a frog catching flies, the other is waving her lollipop in the air, and the third has cheeks as bright red as the lollipop. There are a few boys milling around behind them.
“Tucks! First gear, left foot!” River shouts, his boots kicking up dust. Instantly, I think of his dad and his friends, and I slide forward. I do something with my left foot, turn the key with flying fingers, and press the start button.
“Accelerate! Right lever!”
I do as he says, and the engine roars as the machine lurches forward. One of the girls shouts something, but I can’t make it out.
“More!” River is almost to me. “Now! Now!”
Oh my God!
I do something, and the Yamaha shoots forward again. At that moment, River jumps on, and we almost lose our balance as the bike leans to one side. River is able to catch it by putting his foot on the ground. A cloud of smoke surrounds us, and the exhaust stings my nose for a few seconds. I twist the throttle like a madman.
