The Secret Year (10 page)

chapter 18

I was scheduled to work on Sunday morning.
When
I came out of the house, I found my mother’s tires gashed open.

I walked all the way around the car and then stood in the driveway for a minute, staring at the damage. Somehow I’d expected this. I’d always known somebody would pay for that night at Groome’s. Groome was not the type to just swallow and take it.

I went back to the house and called Nick, waking him up.

“What the hell?” he yawned.

“Hey, Nick, how are your tires?”

“My what?”

“Your
tires
. On your car.”

“Why?”

“I’d check them if I were you.”

“Hold on.” After a couple of minutes, he was back. “Shit!”

“All four?”

“Hell, yeah. You, too?”

“Yep. You better call Paul. I have to find another way to work.”

“Shit. Groome is going to pay for this.”

“I guess he considered it payback,” I said.

“How did he know it was us?”

“We didn’t exactly keep it a secret.” I checked the clock. “I’ve got to go, Nick. I’ll talk to you later.”

I called Sunil, who was on the same shift as me, and he agreed to give me a ride. I left a note for my mother about the car. I was glad I wouldn’t be there when she read it.

Mom still hadn’t calmed down by the time I got home. “This is one hell of a kick in the ass!” She stalked around the kitchen in her bathrobe, emptying the dishwasher. She threw things into drawers, jabbing at me occasionally with a spoon or a spatula. “You know our insurance doesn’t cover this.”

The rock in my stomach got heavier. “It doesn’t?”

“Hell, no. That car’s such a piece of junk anyway, it wasn’t worth it to get full coverage.” She pointed a fork at me. “You’re paying for two of those tires. You wanted the responsibility of driving, this is part of it.”

“I know.” Really I should be paying for all four, but how could I tell her that without telling her about Groome’s tires? She’d kill me. “I have the money.”

“Do you know what new tires
cost
?” She slammed a drawer shut. “Idiot kids, probably. Think it’s funny to slash tires. I’d like to wring their stupid necks.”

“Mom, I—”

“Do they know how long I’ve got to stand on my feet to earn those tires? Christ. As if I didn’t have better things to spend the money on. Like food.”

“Mom—”

“Oh, go study or something. You’re in my way.”

I got to my room as the phone rang. I picked up my extension and heard Nick’s voice.

“This is war,” he said.

Paul’s tires hadn’t been touched, but Fred’s had. This told us that Groome had less than perfect information. He didn’t know that Paul was involved, he didn’t know that Fred wasn’t, and he couldn’t have been completely sure about Nick and me. Not that that stopped him from taking his revenge.

“I’ve had it with Black Mountain,” Nick told me on the phone. “Adam Hancock taking my parking space because he thinks Black Mountain guys own that end of the lot. Austin Chadwick looking at me like I’m some piece of shit he stepped in. Groome’s just the worst one. This Friday night, we’re going up there to the park, and take over.”

I thought Nick had been watching too many movies. “The four of us are going to take over a mountain? With what?”

“What do you mean, four? I’m talking about
all
the kids from the flats. We’re sick of this shit.” He raved on, describing in detail what he wanted to do to Groome’s car, face, and internal organs.

“Wait,” I interrupted. “How many people are in this with you?”

“Everybody. You, me, Paul, Fred . . . and Ryan Coates, and Jimmy Reilly, and Mike Dunn . . . and each one of them is telling ten more people. We’ll have every kid in the flats up there.”

More people must’ve been hassled by Groome and Chadwick than I’d thought. Either that, or these guys didn’t fully understand what Nick had in mind. “You sure they don’t all think this is just a big party?”

“It’ll be a party, all right. Friday night,” Nick said. “You can ride with me.”

“I want to go with you,” Kirby said.

We were at the river, sitting on our boulder, the spot where I’d first kissed her. It was Wednesday, one of the few afternoons that I didn’t have to work. “Kirby, I’m not even sure I’m going.” I hadn’t made up my mind about Friday night on Black Mountain. After all, Nick’s last bright idea had gotten me four slashed tires.

“You’re going. I know you. And I want to be there.”

“Why? It’s not your fight.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t live on the flats.”

“Well, I sure don’t live on the mountain,” she said.

“It could get ugly.”

“It’s already gotten ugly.”

I sighed. She had an answer for everything.

“Don’t give me any crap about how I’m a helpless girl who needs to be protected,” she said.

“I wasn’t going to. But I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t.” She tossed a strand of hair out of her face. “I’m not asking your permission, anyway. If Nick won’t let me come in his car, I’ll take my mother’s. Or walk.”

“What are you going to tell your Black Mountain friends if you show up in Nick’s car with us?”

“What do you mean?”

I rubbed my hand on the rough stone beneath us. “Going out with me is bad enough. You come to the park with us Friday night, and I don’t think they’ll be taking you to the country club anymore.”

She snorted. “You think they
ever
invite me to the country club? Or to their parties, now that Pam’s gone?”

“I’ve seen you eat lunch at Austin’s table.”

“Yeah, and Julia used to act like I was this huge annoyance whenever I’d dare to sit there. Even when I was going out with Michael, they still treated me like an outsider. And now you tell me I don’t belong with you guys, either, because I don’t live on the flats.” She stared out at the river. “Nick always looks at me funny, like I’m a spy from Black Mountain. Nobody trusts me, not you and not them.”

“I trust you.”

“Good, then you’ll let me come with you.”

“I don’t know, Kirby.”

“Well, I’m going up there, Colt, with or without you.” She stood. “Come on, let’s go walk someplace. I’m sick of sitting around.”

chapter 19

Nick picked me up on Friday night. Paul was already
in the car. We stopped on the way to get Kirby.

Cars streamed up the mountain, lights flashing, horns honking. Paul rolled down the window and stuck his head out. Nick laughed at nothing. Kirby shivered. Something sizzled and sparked in the air; we all felt it.

“Where’s Fred?” I asked.

“He’s going in Ryan’s car.”

“Is Syd coming?”

“No.”

I was glad to hear that. If the Black Mountain kids decided to fight with us, she wouldn’t want to be there. Nick had spread the word that anyone from Black Mountain should stay away from the park tonight, so of course we expected some of them to show up.

I wondered what Julia would’ve thought of all this. Kirby had told me that Michael thought it was completely moronic, that this whole thing was driven by Nick and Groome showing off. Julia would have thought so, too. “The only time Austin ever looks for a fight is when he listens to Keith Groome’s bullshit,” she’d written in her notebook. But at the same time, she loved excitement. She probably would’ve come, if only to see what happened.

The park had a long, narrow parking lot. Usually people pulled into the spaces headfirst, facing the view off the mountain. Tonight we backed in, thinking we could pull out fast in case of trouble. We got one of the last places in the lot, but cars kept coming after us. They parked in the grass; they stopped in the roadway. They piled in, honking, until we couldn’t have pulled out if we’d wanted to.

“What do we do now?” Paul asked.

“Wait,” Nick said, grinning.

So far everyone just seemed to be sitting in their cars, radios cranked up, engines racing. It took me a few minutes to realize the cars didn’t all belong to kids from the flats. I saw Austin’s car, and Groome’s, and Adam Hancock’s, and Tristan Allen’s. I’d expected to see more of the Black Mountain guys, and I wondered if the others had stayed away because they were scared or because they thought the whole thing was stupid. After all, the park would always belong to them, no matter what happened tonight.

Chadwick and Groome and those guys were parked on the grass near the entrance, next to a sign that told people to clean up after their dogs. The closest flats cars faced them, separated by a space of grass. That space of grass was the DMZ, I told myself. No-man’s land.

We’d been sitting there about twenty minutes when Austin got out of his car. He walked across the DMZ, heading toward the nearest flats car, but Brad Letts climbed out of it and met him on the grass. When they got close enough to each other, their mouths opened wide. They must’ve been yelling, but we couldn’t hear over all the engines and radios. They shoved each other. Then they backed off, yelling and flailing their arms. Letts beckoned Austin with a “come over here” hand wave.

Groome got out of his car. At the sight of him, about five kids from the flats jumped out and went after him. Paul ran to join in. Adam Hancock and Tristan Allen had enough sense, or fear, to stay inside their cars.

“God,” Kirby said, “six against one? That’s too much.”

“Yeah,” Nick said, “but are you going to stop them?”

We couldn’t even see Groome anymore, just a knot of people pushing and punching and kicking, and what they were punching and kicking seemed to be down on the ground now. Kids from the flats were out of their cars by this time, standing on hoods and roofs. Someone jumped up on Hancock’s gleaming silver car and began to bounce on it. More kids jumped onto Groome’s car, and Ryan Coates bashed Groome’s windshield with a rock.

Austin turned to look, and all of a sudden he must’ve realized what the odds were, because he yelled one last thing at Letts and ran back to his car. He reached into it, got something, and held it up. He stood there holding his arm up like the Statue of Liberty, screaming at the guys attacking Groome.

“What’s he saying?” Nick asked.

“He’s threatening to call the police,” Kirby said. “That’s his cell phone.”

Paul ran up, ripped the phone out of Austin’s hand, and threw it away. They exchanged punches—Paul’s missed—and then Austin scrambled into his car. Paul returned to the knot around Groome, but the guys were already backing off, leaving Groome crawling on the ground.

“This is awful,” Kirby said. She got out, went over to Groome, and knelt beside him. The air was full of honking and hooting and cheering. Maybe Austin hadn’t been able to call the cops, but I figured they’d be here soon anyway. I doubted that the rich people who lived around here would put up with this noise much longer.

I opened my door. I didn’t want Kirby to be alone out there. Nick said, “Colt, are you crazy?”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Why the hell don’t you come out, too?”

He stayed behind the wheel. I almost said something about him starting this whole thing, only to hide when the blood started flowing. But I didn’t want to get into it with Nick now.

I went over to Kirby. Paul and those guys were telling her to leave Groome alone, but she ignored them. Groome groaned, and the way he moved reminded me of the way a bug moves when you’ve crushed it but not quite killed it. There was so much blood I could smell it, a smell like hot metal. Most of it poured from his nose.

“God, Colt,” Kirby said, “is there a towel or something in Nick’s car?”

I walked back to Nick. He usually had a beach towel or a blanket in his trunk. “As far as I’m concerned, the guy can bleed to death,” he said.

“Look, Nick, he’s pretty banged up.”

“That’s too damn bad. He should’ve thought of that before he slashed my tires.” Nick craned his neck to look past me. “Ahh, he’ll be okay. Kirby’s overreacting. I knew we shouldn’t have brought her.”

I went back to Kirby. Paul bent down to get a closer look at Groome. “Whoa,” he said. Kirby and I used my jacket to stop the blood, though I gritted my teeth when I handed it over. I noticed that Groome had wet his pants, a dark stain spreading over his crotch and down his legs.

Austin stood over us, shouting at the guys who’d attacked Groome, until Kirby yelled, “Shut up! You’re not helping.” Then she said to Paul, “Can you calm those guys down?”

The rest of the guys who’d beaten up Groome were still milling around, rubbing their knuckles, itching to take on Austin and anyone else who might dare to step out of their cars. Paul got them to back off a little. Most of the other kids in the park were standing on their cars, watching, quieter now. Groome’s blood seemed to have satisfied some appetite.

“Maybe you should go to the emergency room,” Kirby told Groome. “Your nose might be broken.”

“Fuck that,” he said, although through his mashed nose and the cloth of my jacket it sounded more like “Huck dat.”

“He’ll be okay.” Austin leaned over and slapped Groome’s shoulder. “Right, buddy?”

Cars were leaving, as if there was nothing more to stay for, now that the violence was over. Tristan Allen and Adam Hancock came up and helped Groome into the backseat of Austin’s car. Austin shut the car door and turned to us.

“You guys have gone too fucking far,” he said. “Tell all your friends, you guys are going to be paying for Groome’s car until you get so old your fucking dicks fall off.” He pointed at me. “You got that, Colt Fucking Morrissey?”

I hadn’t thought he even knew my name. I knew plenty about him, but I’d always believed that was a one-way street. To him, I was just a guy from the flats. A nobody. It would make sense that he’d hate me if he’d known about Julia, but he couldn’t have known. Could he?

“You’re welcome, Austin,” Kirby said, her voice full of venom.

“Hey, Kirby, don’t take it the wrong way. You’ve always been okay with me, and what you did tonight shows it. I just don’t know why you want to hang out with this loser.”

“Oh, go to hell,” Kirby said. She turned away from him, and Austin looked at me again.

“What were you trying to prove, coming up here?” he said.

I didn’t answer. I followed Kirby.

By this time, there were hardly any cars left. As we crossed the empty lot back to Nick’s car, we both started to shiver. I put my arm around her and she said, “I’m glad you helped with Keith. I’ll say thank you even if they won’t.”

I did it for you, not them
, I thought. But I didn’t say it out loud.

Nick rolled down the window and said, “I’m not so sure I want her in this car.”

Kirby glared at him. “Why not?”

“I don’t know why you had to run over and help that asshole and ruin everything.”

“They could’ve killed him, Nick! It’s not like on TV, where a guy can take fifty punches and walk away. This is serious.”

“Colt, you getting in?”

“Not unless you let Kirby in, too.”

“Fine. You can both walk.” He started the engine and yelled, “See ya!”

Nick tore out of there, and Kirby and I sat on the grass. The cold dew soaked into my jeans. Kirby sniffed and ran the heel of one hand beneath her eyes. Her hand was splotched with Groome’s blood. “I never cry,” she said sharply.

“We’ll be okay,” I said. “We can walk home.” I picked up her hands; they felt cold and dead. I rubbed them to get her blood flowing again. “Hey, if the police come roaring up here now, at least we’ll have a ride home.”

My lame attempt at humor did nothing to cheer her up. “Do you think like Nick?” she asked. “Do you think I should’ve stayed out of it?”

“No.”

“You know this is serious, right? Keith could get people arrested if he wanted.”

“Yes.”

“Talk to me, Colt. I can’t stand these one-word answers.”

I squeezed her cold fingers. “I think we’d better start walking so you can warm up. It’s a long way.” If I had been alone in the backseat of Nick’s car tonight, I never would’ve gone to help Groome. I would’ve sat back and watched him get killed. “I think you did the right thing. I think you’re a better person than I am.”

I wanted to tell her I loved her, too, but somehow I couldn’t. The words rose up to the back of my tongue and stuck there. Ever since I’d said them that night in my room, I hadn’t been able to get them out of my mouth again. I didn’t know why.