Ask Me (16 page)

I walked over to my car and got in and sat for a few minutes, still not sure what I wanted to do. My car was so
ancient that it had a real clock as opposed to a digital one. I could hear it ticking. After a full five minutes had passed with the insistent
tick, tick, tick
echoing in my ears, I stuck the key in the ignition and turned. The Colt sputtered to life, and I rumbled down the drive, an anxious glance back at the house in my rearview mirror. No lights came on.

Gran was right. I didn’t even remember what the guy’s name was who had been run over. I would be willing to bet that no one at school did either. No one, certainly, had asked. But somewhere out there was a family missing him. His wife, who had found him, for one.
Gabriella
. That was it. Gabriella and Armando Huerta. I remembered now. She deserved to know. And hadn’t Gran said they had three kids? They were just as important as Jade was, and no one was giving them a thought.

If I was honest with myself, I hadn’t really, either.

And Will was right, too. The police needed to take a long, hard look at Alex. It wasn’t just the hit-and-run guy that needed justice. Jade did, too. The image of Jade’s mother at the funeral service had been haunting me, too.

I had the tip-line number in my pocket.

I drove to a gas station on the outskirts of town. It was the only place in town with a payphone. For all I knew, it was the only pay phone still left in the county. Everyone had cell phones now, even the kids in elementary school. Everyone but us. We had our landline, but I didn’t want to make this call from a phone attached to our name.

I found a few quarters in my glove box and dialed the number I’d ripped out of the newspaper that Granddad had left on the couch. It rang a few times, and then I got
a recording telling me I had reached the tip line for the police. Maybe the cops were all asleep, like normal people. I gripped the slightly oily handset gingerly as I waited for it to get to the beep.

“Hello,” I whispered, even though no one was around to hear me. “this is regarding the hit-and-run of Armando Huerta, that guy that, um, died. You should look at Jade Price’s car or talk to Alex Walker.”

I didn’t know what else to say. I hung up the phone and went home, finally able to sleep.

I leaned my head against my locker and closed my eyes, exhaustion weighing me down. At least the questions had quieted down after the weekend. People were already starting to move on to other things. Maybe the funeral service had provided closure for everyone. If someone like Jade dying barely sent out a lasting ripple, I could only imagine what kind of impact my passing would have.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped, hitting my head on the side of my locker. Backing up, a hand to my ear, I turned to find Will looking sheepishly at me.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You did.” I rubbed my ear but managed a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you until lunch.” I bit my lip. I probably shouldn’t have admitted that I hoped to see him then, much less
expected
him.

A couple of freshmen girls brushed by us. “Do you really think Casey likes me?” one asked the other.

I wasn’t prepared. “He just wants to bone you,” I said, far too loudly for comfort. I quickly turned back to my locker, but the girls stopped short. They had heard me. It wasn’t my problem her friend was crass, but it was my fault for letting my guard down. Will had distracted me. My MP3 player was useless in my hand, the earphones dangling down.

“Excuse me
? Did you say something to me?”

I felt a sharp poke in the middle of my back. Even the freshmen had no problem taking me down. “No excuses,” I said. “Yes, I did.” I didn’t turn around, glad she hadn’t asked me what I had said and that I hadn’t volunteered it. Once was enough for answers like that.

“You
bitch.”
She grabbed my arm and spun me around. My MP3 player fell to the floor, and her friend stomped her foot down right on top of it without a second thought. I heard the snap of the case.
Crap
.

Will smoothly stepped in between us. “Girls,” he said. “Are you talking about Casey Aronsen?”

I froze. This was
Will Raffles
. Talking to
them
. I heard one of the girls take a deep breath. Either they didn’t care about the rumors that had been going around since Jade’s death or their hormones had gotten the best of them. I don’t think they had noticed him standing there next to me. After all, why would he be standing near the school freak? I doubted if they even heard me whisper my affirmative into my locker. She had indeed been talking about Casey Aronsen, one of the boys I had seen ganging up on Alex the other day during gym.

“Yeah,” said the one who had asked about Casey’s affections.

The girls’ eyes were on Will, of course. I was forgotten.

“He
was
talking about a certain brown-haired girl the other day.” I could hear the easy charm in Will’s voice. He draped his arms around their shoulders, a girl on each side, and led them away from me. They were spellbound. “I wonder if he was talking about
you.”

Both girls giggled as he steered them through the hall. The crowd parted as if by magic.

I picked up my shattered MP3 player. It was definitely a lost cause, but I pushed a button anyway, just to see. Not a sound. Not even a click. I stuck it in my book bag, wondering how I was going to get through the rest of the day.

I did know what it was like to be on the outside, didn’t I? Anger flashed through me. Well, what if I finally wanted in? I shut my locker, its small metal clang tinny and empty in the deserted hall.

I CARRIED MY PLATE
of salad past the tables full of talking, laughing kids and out into the Florida heat. I almost expected the lettuce to shrivel immediately. I felt a little scorched, myself. I sat down on the far side of the tree and picked at my salad. After fifteen minutes, I was done, and Will had not shown. Maybe he wasn’t going to. Why had I expected him? Why would he want to spend his time cleaning up after my messes?

I dropped a wilted bit of leftover lettuce on top of a trail of ants circling a dead beetle. A small green shroud for the tiny corpse. I leaned forward, my elbows on my knees, to watch as the ants swarmed up and over it, little black lines crisscrossing the green.

“That’s a little disturbing,” said Will.

I sat up quickly, embarrassed, but he was smiling at me like we were sharing a secret.

“I didn’t think you were coming,” I blurted out. Why couldn’t I control my tongue around him? Here I was saying stupid things, and he hadn’t even asked me a question.

He tossed something small at me, and I sat back to let it fall into my lap. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “I just ran home to get this for you. Happy Monday.”

It was an iPod, fancy white earphones still attached. “I can’t take this.”

“Sure you can. It’s my old one. It’s been sitting on my desk gathering dust. I even loaded some songs on it for you. That’s what took me so long. I only live a couple of blocks away.”

No one had ever given me anything before, other than family. It was too expensive, even if it was his old one. I held it out to him. “No, really, I can’t take it. This is too much.”

He sat down in front of me and pressed my hand back down into my lap. “Aria, this isn’t really a gift. It’s a … well, let’s just call it a necessity.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “Like what happened to your MP3 player this morning. Now I understand why you have it. It’s to keep incidents like that to a minimum. So you don’t accidentally insult one of the idiots we’re surrounded with.” He patted my hand. “Sorry, that was harsh. But Jesus, those freshmen girls … 
I pawned that one off on Casey as soon as I could. She deserves him. He’s an asshole.”

“But—”

“No arguing,” he said, leaning back and shaking a finger at me. “Just take it. You need it. Someone else might figure out what you can do. I’m not taking no for an answer. We have to protect you somehow.”

I knew what he meant. But this really was too big a gift. “Gran’s told me I can learn to control it. Maybe,” I said.

“That would be great. Like training or something?”

“Knowledge is power,” I said. “Um, I don’t know exactly, but she says it’s possible.”

He nodded. “That’s cool. But, in the meantime, take the iPod.”

Never look a gift horse in the mouth. That’s what Gran often said. But she also liked to repeat Polonius’s advice about not being a borrower or a lender.
Hamlet
was one of the few literary things she had ever read. She usually stuck to the
Farmer’s Almanac
. I was torn. The thought of being able to plug in again was very tempting. I’d narrowly missed saying something damning where Tank could have heard me an hour before. Walking through the hallways without my earphones in made me feel exposed and vulnerable. I didn’t want to have to start hiding in the bathrooms again.

“Aria,” said Will, “this is where you say thank you. And take it.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I owe you. I promise I’ll pay you back.” I had no idea how, but I would find a way somehow.

“We’ll think of something.” He grinned at me, a lazy
grin that started slow and finished big. My face burned. He couldn’t possibly mean what it felt like he meant.

“You know, I can take care of myself, too,” I said. “I’ve been doing it for years.” I felt like I needed to defend myself, even if I hadn’t this morning.

He laughed. “I don’t doubt it, but I’m here now.”

Before I could even think of anything to say to that, he took the iPod back and gave me a crash course in how it worked. He was disbelieving when I explained I didn’t have a computer but promised to bring me an adapter so I could charge it without one. Something else I would owe him for.

Thank goodness I had a backup of all my music, though I was anxious to see what Will had copied for me. Mr. Krakowski let me use the computer lab to access iTunes, so long as I came in either between classes or after school and didn’t bother him. Maybe I had time to go to the lab after lunch, if I hurried. I really did owe Will, big-time. I stared down at the iPod in my hand. Maybe I shouldn’t take it. But how could I not?

“I guess I’ve rendered you speechless,” Will said.

“I called the police last night,” I blurted out.

I’d been meaning to tell him since this morning. His grin disappeared. Maybe I should have led up to it. I was terrible at making polite conversation.

“Why?”

“It was the right thing to do.” My heart slowed just slightly, and I let out a deep breath. I felt a little better that apparently my inner oracle felt the same way as I did. “You know, about Jade and Alex and the … the hit-and-run guy.
I had to tell them. His family deserves to know.” I sounded like a poor imitation of Gran. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that.” He stared down at the iPod, clutched in my hand. “Of course you’re right. I’m sure they’ll want to talk to Alex again now. You did exactly the right thing.”

I sagged back against the tree. I hadn’t told Gran and Granddad what I’d done in the middle of the night. I wasn’t sure why. I had the feeling Gran would think I was a coward for doing it anonymously.

I was a coward.

My eyes found the stream of ants again. They had managed to dislodge the lettuce, exposing the beetle. I turned away, unable to stomach more death. “I did it anonymously. I used the tip line.” Why did I feel such a need to confess? Wasn’t it enough that I had to lay bare my soul every time someone asked me a question? Here I was, volunteering.

“The important thing was that you did it.” He put a finger under my chin and raised my head. “I knew you had it in you.”

I smiled at him. It wavered, but it held. He smiled back. Maybe confession was good for the soul. I felt lighter than I had in ages.

Someone grabbed my arm before I could walk into art class. Not Tank or one of his friends, up to their old tricks, but Delilah. Her grip was gentle, and she let go when I turned around. I stepped to the side of the door so I wouldn’t be in anyone’s way and took out my earphones.