The Lure Page 7

  “I’m right here.” Rico held up the plastic wolf that had been on my stoop. “We didn’t want you to be alone if Lobos decided to pay you another visit.”

  I smiled, falling back on my pillow, and let a memory carry me to the summer between sixth and seventh grades, when I’d met Rico.

  My father had died and, though my own grief was weighing on me, I had tried to hide it from my grandmother. When I needed to cry, I would hide near the Borderlands beneath the branches of a fallen tree, so she wouldn’t see my tears and feel worse.

  Some days, Rico had watched me from the end of the alley near Tulley’s while he drank a Coke. I had known he was a gangster, two years ahead of me in school, and Satch’s best friend, but I had never spoken to him because his reputation had scared me.

  One afternoon, when I had arrived at the tree, three homeless dopers were waiting for me. Before I could run, they had grabbed me. Rico had appeared from the shadows and, after beating them away, he’d sheltered me in his arms while I’d sobbed.

  But I hadn’t really become his friend until the first snow. I had been on my way to school, my teeth chattering, when he’d burst out of a yard.

  He’d set a package the size of a shoebox on top of my books and had sprinted away, toward the Lobos’ streets, the brittle ice splintering beneath his steps. The summer before, he had told me how he sometimes pretended to be a Lobo when he stole from Mass 5. I had sensed that he was doing that now to throw off whoever was chasing him.

  I had continued walking toward school, amazed at my outward calm while inside my heart was racing. Seconds later, behind me, two Mass 5 gangsters had bolted out of the yard, pausing for a moment before following Rico’s path in the shattered ice toward the Lobos’ neighborhood.

  That night, when I had opened the door, Rico had scanned the living room, as if he had expected to see a police officer waiting for him. I had a reputation, then, as a church girl.

  Without a word, I gave him the package, still wrapped the way it had been when he’d set it on my books.

  Grinning, he’d clenched his hand and waited until I had fisted mine, then he’d rapped my knuckles with his. “Till death do us part,” he’d whispered.

  I had finally become his friend.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  12

  Voices came from downstairs, the aroma of bacon and coffee drifting up with the laughter. I opened my eyes, sunlight stunning my vision, and tried to sit up, but pain kept me pinned to my bed.

  Minutes later, a shadow passed over me, and then my grandmother’s face hovered above mine, toast crumbs on her lips, a dot of grape jelly spotting her chin. Gently, she touched my bruised cheek. “Are you up to having visitors?”

  When I nodded, I felt as if my brain was ripping away from my skull. The pain had gotten worse.

  Tara, Tanya, and Twyla crowded into my room and stood in front of my window, their shadows flickering over my pink bedspread.

  “Your friends brought food,” my grandmother added. “Do you want me to scramble you some eggs?”

  “Too sick to eat,” I muttered, gratitude washing over me as I mouthed thank you to the 3Ts.

  “I have to get some sleep,” my grandmother said, excusing herself. She kissed the top of my head, then left. Soon after, the hum from her bedroom fan began vibrating through my room.

  “I brought stuff to make you feel better,” Tara said, placing plastic bottles of chocolate syrup on my nightstand. “Your grandmother thinks it’s medicine from Irwin, but it’s my own concoction.”

  “Tara’s a regular pharmacy,” Tanya said as Twyla flopped down on the end of my bed, the mattress swaying when she crisscrossed her legs.

  I forced my body up until I was leaning against the headboard.

  Tanya caught my grimace. “Ariel’s already sleeping through her pain. You would be, too, if you’d been home when we came by yesterday.”

  I ignored the question implied in her statement. I wasn’t going to tell anyone about my visit with Melissa.

  Tara squeezed chocolate syrup into a paper cup that she handed to me along with a white pill. From the size and roughness, I knew she’d made it herself. I set it on my tongue and could feel it dissolving, the granules cold and numbing my mouth. I swallowed the chocolate to wash it down and continued sipping to get rid of the bitter taste.

  “You can’t feed the dogs anymore,” Tara said, taking the cup from me and placing it on my nightstand next to more pills. “That’s no job for a gangster.”

  “I can’t give them up,” I said, sliding down to my pillow as the room began to tilt. My mind rose and fell on pleasurable waves that were carrying me away from the pain.

  “Kaylee could feed them,” Twyla sniggered.

  “Trek would never let her into his house,” Tanya said. “She’d poison the dogs and him, too.”

  “She’s tough and crazy enough for Core 9,” Tara said, rubbing alcohol over the skin between my index finger and thumb. “I wanted her.”

  “We all did,” Tanya agreed.

  When I tried to ask why they hadn’t invited Kaylee to join Core 9, my deadened tongue refused to move. I needed to remember what the 3Ts had said, but already the drug was looping my thoughts with dreams. Their conversation fell away as darkness engulfed me.

  Each time I awakened, I took another pill, until the afternoon when I came to without any pain. I knew I had been out for days, not hours. I had rolling memories of my grandmother feeding me and smearing antibiotics over my skin, her worried face near mine as she prayed. I remembered Satch coming into my room as well, but why would he spend his nights beside my bed when he could be hanging out with his homeboys? Still, I recalled him telling me stories about his wild adventures with Rico as I drifted in and out, but the more I thought about his visits, the more I became convinced that they were no more than drug-induced fantasies.

  When I finally got out of bed, I felt jittery, but also amazingly good. I showered and, as I let the water take away my stiffness, I removed the bandage on the web between my index finger and thumb and stared at the C9 that Tara had inked into my skin. I twisted my arm through the spray, admiring my tattoo from different angles.

  As I dressed, my phone pinged. I opened a picture that Ariel had sent of the bright red gash on her forehead.

  A second later, my call tone sounded and before I even said hello, Ariel spoke. “I’m worried about Melissa.”

  “You saw her?” I asked as I went downstairs to the kitchen.

  “Yesterday. I had to go back to Irwin so he could check my stitches, and I stopped to see how she’s doing.”

  “And?” I asked, opening a bag of potato chips that sat on the table.

  “She seems so sad. I mean, I could feel it, like, her emotions were in the air. I had to ask her three times if she wanted something to eat, and finally I just went out and bought her a hamburger and fries.”

  “Did she eat them?”

  “I’m not sure she even saw them. She just kept staring. I wanted to go back today, but something came up.”

  “I’ll check on her,” I said, already heading for the front door.

  The streets were empty, the stillness so deep I could hear my bare feet slapping the sidewalk. I ducked under the tree branches near the back of the row house where Melissa lived and stopped when I heard Trek, who, I assumed, was talking to Melissa.

  “It was your decision, so why are you feeling so sad?” he asked. “I only went along with what you wanted. Do you think I liked your choice? No guy wants his girl to do the rollins, but I stood by you. That’s proof I love you, isn’t it? So why are you taking it out on me?”

  His words shocked me. I leaned against the moss-covered bricks and pondered what I’d heard. Had Melissa become afraid of the jump-in and then blamed Trek for her decision to do the rollins? Maybe she had thought she’d be able to handle it the sa
me way I had thought I’d be able to avoid a beating at my jump-in with dips and spins.

  “Please, baby, talk to me,” Trek pleaded. “What can I do to cheer you up? Just name it. I’ll do anything.”

  I held my breath and peered around the corner. Trek and Melissa sat on the stoop. He had his arms around her, his head bent in front of her as if he were trying to get her to look at him instead of the ground. I had never seen Trek with his guard down before and I couldn’t believe how vulnerable he seemed.

  “I love you more than life itself,” he said. “Please don’t do this. Come back to me.”

  I waited until Trek had coaxed a smile from Melissa and then I walked home. Maybe he really did care about her.

  UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

  HarperCollins Publishers

  ..................................................................

  13

  Beyond the glare coming off the cars in the teachers’ parking lot, the school security guards were trying to stop a fight between Lobos and Mass 5 gangsters that was escalating into a riot. I threaded my way around my classmates, who were watching the three-way brawl while more and more students pushed forward, straining to see.

  A girl glanced at me and rammed her elbow into the side of her friend, her whisper soughing into the breeze. Watch out. Move. Get out of her way.

  The chatter quieted as others became aware of me. Heads turned and the nudging began as I made my way through the crowd.

  I was returning to school for the first time since the jump-in, wearing expensive tennis shoes that the 3Ts had bought for me. Though a few scratches still marred my face, the swelling had gone down and Irwin had removed my stitches. I had hemmed my skirt, nine inches above my knees, to flaunt that I was now Core 9. And a splotch of makeup covered the tattoo between my thumb and index finger, but everyone knew what I was concealing.

  Suddenly, seeming to jump out of nowhere, Kaylee cut through the crowd and walked toward me, smiling. “Welcome back.”

  “Hey, Kaylee,” I said, my face expressionless, though my mind was shouting, Don’t, Kaylee! Don’t do anything stupid.

  “I heard you had the flu,” she said, her jealousy stinging the air between us.

  “Is that what everyone’s saying?” I kept walking.

  “They know what virus you had.” She curled her fingers and, when she started to throw my crew’s hand sign, a bolt of adrenaline streaked through me.

  I slapped her hands so fiercely my own fingers stung. Ariel had almost died earning the right to toss that sign. And Melissa had suffered worse. She still seemed more dead to me than alive.

  “What?” Kaylee shook her hand.

  “You don’t have the right to throw that sign.” My lips pressed together to keep me from saying worse.

  “I was only kidding around,” she said, hurt.

  “It’s not a joke,” I snapped.

  “I’m sorry. Okay?”

  I glared at her, unable to accept her apology. She knew that kids our age and younger had died because they had flashed that sign.

  “So I guess you didn’t mean it when you said we’ll always be friends,” Kaylee shouted before she walked away and disappeared among the students who were watching the fight near the teachers’ parking lot.

  Calmly, coldly, I continued toward the school, my face intentionally blank. I had been ready to fight Kaylee. The thought sickened and surprised me. Maybe all the blows to my head during the jump-in had damaged my brain.

  The kids studying on the front steps looked up from their books, their eyes quick and darting, afraid of me now that I was part of Core 9. They scooted and squeezed together, opening a gap for me while other students still had to wend their way around them.

  Halfway up the stairs, I saw Dante with his wannabe crew, three nobodies, Vince, Tobias, and Justin, who were so anxious to get ganged up that they didn’t bother to wonder why other Core 9 gangsters didn’t hang out with Dante at school.

  As I stepped closer, I realized that they had trapped Melissa and were jostling her from one to the other, touching her, and laughing at her attempts to slap their hands away. Why wasn’t Dante afraid that Trek would come after him? His lack of fear chilled me. Dante knew the rules. As Trek’s girlfriend, Melissa should have been off limits. Why wasn’t she?

  I grabbed a coffee from a skinny girl and hurled it at Dante. Whack! The lid snapped open and coffee splattered the back of his head. He spun around, fists ready to fight, his scowl dissolving when he saw me. He flicked his hand and his crew released Melissa.

  She ran inside, her arms wrapped around her chest, head bowed, too ashamed to look at me.

  “Melissa, wait!” I charged up the last steps, chasing after her.

  “Hey, Blaise, why are you in such a hurry?” Dante teased as he braced his hands on either side of the doorjamb, his legs astraddle, like a six-year-old bully, his body blocking the entrance. “Did you want to go inside?”

  His friends separated and started to encircle me.

  “What’s the matter, pretty face?” Dante asked.

  I stared at him, not moving. Being part of Core 9 gave me prestige, but I had built my own reputation for toughness—a fighter who never backed down. If I let Dante and his wannabes stop me from going inside, then others might think they could challenge me, and I’d have to start fighting all over again to prove that I couldn’t be pushed around.

  “Well?” Dante asked, taunting me. “What are you waiting for?”

  A wicked smile came to my lips as dormant memories awakened. Hadn’t my mother taught me how to take down a guy without using my fists? I brushed back my hair, mimicking her, and let my hand slide down my neck to the top button on my blouse. My fingers lingered, a tease, then I tilted my head and undid the button. I laughed at the bewildered look on Dante’s face. I could feel him drawn to me. No one had ever seen the vamp inside me. I kept her chained because I didn’t want to be like my mother.

  “Dante, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while,” I lied in a sugary voice.

  “You have?” He looked completely disarmed.

  “Of course I have.” Did I actually giggle?

  With a nod, he motioned his friends to back away. Vince and Justin paused and glanced at him, unsure, then looked at me, but Tobias prowled closer, his fingers twitching, wanting to grab me and hold me for the others.

  I ignored him and focused my charm on Dante. “You avoid me,” I complained prettily while stepping closer. “Whenever you see me, you always take off. Even at Trek’s house.”

  “I don’t,” he protested, his sharp cologne stinging my nose.

  “You do,” I pouted, slipping my purse, heavy with the weight of the hammer, off my shoulder. I held the strap and sauntered closer, mirroring my mother’s slow, sensual stride.

  His defenses fell and longing filled his eyes.

  I smoothed my right hand down his arm as my left hand swung forward and slammed my purse into his crotch. He gasped and fell to his knees and didn’t have enough air left in his lungs to curse me.

  His friends stared at him, then at me, too stunned to attack, while behind us, laughter burst into the air, followed by applause from the girls on the steps who had gathered to watch. Most had been victims of Dante’s hallway attacks.

  I looked at him now, on his knees, and wondered how he’d ever gotten into Core 9, then I pressed my face against the side of his head, my mouth at his ear. “If you touch Melissa again,” I whispered, “your friends will have to scrape your body off the ground with butter knives.”

  When I sensed Tobias steeling himself to jump me, I pulled the hammer from my purse. “Try me,” I said, facing him. “I’ll make you pay for what you did to Melissa.”

  “She’s crazy. Leave her alone,” Vince said, rescuing Tobias from what was going to be a crushing embarrassment.

  “You think you’re a guy,” Dante said spitefully, still on his knees. “That’s what everyone says.”

  I whipped around
, so angry I had to restrain myself from biting his ear. “If I wanted you, I could still have you. But I don’t, because I despise you for being such a fool.”

  Then, knocking into his shoulder, I shoved past him, hating the doubts that his words had released. I could be mean and aggressive like a guy, but had I also lost my compassion? I didn’t want to be the person who provoked fear in others. Or did I? The only alternative was to become one of those girls who cried in the bathroom because someone had bullied her and taken her purse, or her homework, or her pride.

  I avoided the security check, which was a fiasco with only one guard left to operate the metal detector, and wandered through the noisy, crowded hallway, no longer marveling at the way other students stepped out of my way.

  I tried to call Melissa. I knew she’d found her phone, so why wasn’t she answering? Finally, I texted, call ME.

  Near my English class, Satch leaned against the wall, a trio of girls vying for his attention. Pretty girls with pink fingernails and hands that had never been bruised from throwing punches. Looking at them, I wondered if Satch saw me as one of the guys.

  As if he sensed me watching him, he glanced up. Waving, he broke away from the giggling trio and came over to me.

  “Glad to have you back,” he said as he squeezed me against him.

  I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent, trying to analyze his touch. Was he holding me like a guy friend or a girl? I pulled back and glanced up. The way Satch was looking down at me sent a jolt through my stomach.

  Turning away from him, I stared out at the crowded hallway. “So where’s Rico?” I asked, nervously aware of Satch’s fingers rubbing my back.

  “Hey, Toughness,” he teased. “Was my welcome not good enough?”

  “I just thought he’d be here,” I said, wondering what I’d felt inside me.

  “We might not see him until later,” Satch said, his hands dropping to his sides. “He’s been going deeper into the Lobos’ neighborhood and messing with their placas.”