carting me around and making me breakfast?” I teased.
“Right.” He shook his head, a smile hinting across his face. “I’m just saying that once you get involved in the criminal system it’s real easy to keep getting sucked back in.”
“But you did it,” I said. “I mean, you managed to get out of it.”
“Just barely. People are still trying to act like I’m screwing up, even when I’m not. Maybe it’s easier not to fight that. Maybe you should just be who you are, you know?”
“A criminal?”
“C’mon, Willa. That’s not what I mean. I mean the part of you that wants to fight, to change things.” He looked away to drain the last of his drink. “That being said, I think you might need a little help with this half-baked plan of yours. Meet me outside when the final harp rings?”
I grinned. That I could do. Everything would be easier with Tre’s help—it would be just like old times. Yes, I’d be breaking the law again, but this was different. This was about my mom. “Do I need to bring anything special?”
“Just your true self.”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
SIX
“MIND TELLING ME where we’re going?” I asked Tre from the passenger seat.
He’d been silent for the past five minutes as he drove us along. Surprises were cute and all, but I was pretty sure I’d had enough of them in the past few days to last me for the next fifteen years.
I scanned the scene outside the window for more information. We were heading south out of the Valley on Route 51, I could tell that much. His Audi picked up speed as we merged onto a huge multilane highway lined with sound barrier walls, and passed under a big green sign indicating that the airport was five miles ahead.
“Are we flying somewhere?”
Tre just shook his head. “Damn, you’re impatient. We’re finding you an alternative means of transport. If you’re going to skip town, you can’t go taking public transportation or using your credit cards.”
“So what do you propose?”
“What do you think?” He looked at me knowingly, keeping a palm on the wheel.
I thought he meant stealing something. But then I thought better. Tre wasn’t doing that stuff anymore. He probably had something else up his sleeve.
I clutched my schoolbag in my lap. The overnight bag was at my feet. If his idea, whatever it was, didn’t pan out, I still probably had time to make that bus.
The highway filled up with more traffic as we approached downtown Phoenix. It was getting close to rush hour. Being on the road felt good—at least I was now doing something instead of moping around school. There was a purpose to fulfill. And going after a goal always raised my spirits.
We were still headed toward the airport. I frowned. Planes didn’t count as “alternative” unless it was a private jet. Or he was sneaking me into freight. Which could be a little extreme, but kind of cool. I pictured crouching in a darkened compartment with pets and baggage. Maybe we were going to use some other kind of airport vehicle, like a rental-car shuttle or a skycap buggy.
Tre signaled to exit the highway at Sky Harbor Circle. “We’ve got one more stop to make. Just stay with me, okay? I’ve got this on lock.”
I was. I was right there with him, going along with his obviously thought-through scheme.
That is, until he pulled into a Chevron station.Because sitting on the curb in front, legs splayed out and sipping a frozen coffee like he had no care in the world, was Aidan.
What the . . . ?
“You called Aidan,” I said.
Tre honked the horn and waved to Aidan before turning to me. “Yes, I did. And dude actually took public transportation to meet us here. Imagine that.”
As happy as I was to see him—and there’s no describing the exact joy of watching Aidan stand up and shake out his mop of hair, sliding on the strap of his backpack, the crooked smile of
“Right.” He shook his head, a smile hinting across his face. “I’m just saying that once you get involved in the criminal system it’s real easy to keep getting sucked back in.”
“But you did it,” I said. “I mean, you managed to get out of it.”
“Just barely. People are still trying to act like I’m screwing up, even when I’m not. Maybe it’s easier not to fight that. Maybe you should just be who you are, you know?”
“A criminal?”
“C’mon, Willa. That’s not what I mean. I mean the part of you that wants to fight, to change things.” He looked away to drain the last of his drink. “That being said, I think you might need a little help with this half-baked plan of yours. Meet me outside when the final harp rings?”
I grinned. That I could do. Everything would be easier with Tre’s help—it would be just like old times. Yes, I’d be breaking the law again, but this was different. This was about my mom. “Do I need to bring anything special?”
“Just your true self.”
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
SIX
“MIND TELLING ME where we’re going?” I asked Tre from the passenger seat.
He’d been silent for the past five minutes as he drove us along. Surprises were cute and all, but I was pretty sure I’d had enough of them in the past few days to last me for the next fifteen years.
I scanned the scene outside the window for more information. We were heading south out of the Valley on Route 51, I could tell that much. His Audi picked up speed as we merged onto a huge multilane highway lined with sound barrier walls, and passed under a big green sign indicating that the airport was five miles ahead.
“Are we flying somewhere?”
Tre just shook his head. “Damn, you’re impatient. We’re finding you an alternative means of transport. If you’re going to skip town, you can’t go taking public transportation or using your credit cards.”
“So what do you propose?”
“What do you think?” He looked at me knowingly, keeping a palm on the wheel.
I thought he meant stealing something. But then I thought better. Tre wasn’t doing that stuff anymore. He probably had something else up his sleeve.
I clutched my schoolbag in my lap. The overnight bag was at my feet. If his idea, whatever it was, didn’t pan out, I still probably had time to make that bus.
The highway filled up with more traffic as we approached downtown Phoenix. It was getting close to rush hour. Being on the road felt good—at least I was now doing something instead of moping around school. There was a purpose to fulfill. And going after a goal always raised my spirits.
We were still headed toward the airport. I frowned. Planes didn’t count as “alternative” unless it was a private jet. Or he was sneaking me into freight. Which could be a little extreme, but kind of cool. I pictured crouching in a darkened compartment with pets and baggage. Maybe we were going to use some other kind of airport vehicle, like a rental-car shuttle or a skycap buggy.
Tre signaled to exit the highway at Sky Harbor Circle. “We’ve got one more stop to make. Just stay with me, okay? I’ve got this on lock.”
I was. I was right there with him, going along with his obviously thought-through scheme.
That is, until he pulled into a Chevron station.Because sitting on the curb in front, legs splayed out and sipping a frozen coffee like he had no care in the world, was Aidan.
What the . . . ?
“You called Aidan,” I said.
Tre honked the horn and waved to Aidan before turning to me. “Yes, I did. And dude actually took public transportation to meet us here. Imagine that.”
As happy as I was to see him—and there’s no describing the exact joy of watching Aidan stand up and shake out his mop of hair, sliding on the strap of his backpack, the crooked smile of
Similar Books
