Home Before Dark by Susan Wiggs

so sure of herself, so decisive. “I’m not certain what her plans are. She’s going to do some pictures for a magazine, I think.” Mom pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear; she looked tired and harried. She always did, and that annoyed Lila. These days, everything about her annoyed Lila. The way she always wore faded shorts and giveaway T-shirts, the way she never put on any lipstick, the way she caught her thick red hair in a messy ponytail, the way she ate Scottie’s leftover peanut butter toast for breakfast and never fixed anything for herself, the way she pretended to watch MTV with Lila but was really reading one of her bazillion travel books about Provence or Tibet, a dreamy look suffusing her face until something sexy happened on The Real World. Then her face would contract into a prune of disapproval. She was uncool and she knew it. Worst of all, she didn’t care.
    â€œSo what do you think of her?” Mom asked.
    â€œDad wanted to know the same thing.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œShe’s okay, I guess. Jeez, we had supper. Big deal. What, am I supposed to love her instantly because she’s family?”
    Mom blinked in surprise. For a second, she looked almostpretty. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to feel. Curious, I guess.”
    â€œWhatever.”
    Mom hesitated, then bent down and gave her a kiss. She smelled of the mom smell—cooking grease, shampoo, generic brand antiperspirant. “Make sure your homework is done.”
    â€œYou bet,” Lila said, knowing full well she wouldn’t do the Spanish or the algebra tonight.
    She had big plans instead. Luckily she didn’t have long to wait. Dad would be off to Huntsville within the hour, and whenever he went out of town, her mom turned in early to fall asleep while reading House Beautiful or Travel & Leisure. Thank God tonight there would be no shuffle and squeak of bedsprings and soft giggles as her parents tried to be quiet. That sort of thing was excruciating to Lila.
    Tonight she heard only the low murmur of their voices as Dad packed his bag. They were probably discussing Jessie and the guy on death row and maybe the meeting Dad would miss tomorrow with Lila’s school counselor. She was glad of that. They kept trying to understand her “issues,” and work on her motivation and self-concept—like those things were going to turn her into an A student with a perfectly clean room.
    Sure thing, Mom.
    After a while, she heard her dad drive away to the airpark and finally, finally the lights clicked off and the house settled.
    A soft pinging sound alerted her. Heart thumping madly, she dashed to the window. The pebble at the window was an old trick, but it worked. She blinked her light three times to let him know she was coming.
    By now, Lila had memorized the steps going downstairs. Numbers three, six and eleven creaked; she avoided them. She slipped out through the kitchen door and crossed the deck, and there he was.
    Heath Walker. The only thing that made life worth living.
    He was like a god, standing there, one hand on his hip, the other offering Beaver a piece of beef jerky so the stupid dog wouldn’t sound the alarm.
    Lila leaped at Heath, loving the feel of his arms going around her. His thick, wavy hair was made for her searching fingers. They kissed, hot slippery mouths and restless hungry tongues. Heath was ready to party. She could taste the flavor of purloined cigarettes and Shiner beer in his mouth.
    â€œLet’s go,” she whispered, tugging him by the hand. “Hurry.”
    He tossed the rest of the beef jerky to the dog and they slipped away into the dark woods. He always parked on the other side of the property so no one would hear his Jeep or see the headlights.
    â€œOh, shit.” Lila froze, clutching his hand.
    â€œWhat’s up?” he asked.
    â€œWe’ve got company. My aunt is staying in the cabin. Shit shit