A car horn blasted from the lot behind him.
He’d covered only half the distance toward the branch, his fingers already outstretched to grab it. Robbie and his friends spun in surprise as Karl jumped, startled. For a second, their eyes locked in confusion, before Robbie’s gaze darkened.
“Hey there, Derrin,” he said, taking a step toward him.
Karl spun around and ran.
“Get him!” he heard Robbie yell behind him, followed a second later by the sounds of sneakers smacking against pavement.
Karl didn’t bother to look back, knowing exactly what he’d see. Darting around a parked delivery truck, he cut through the trees that lined the edge of the parking lot, then skidded down a grassy bank and ducked into the storm drain, cold water soaking his sneakers as he ran. Hopefully, he had enough of a lead that the other boys hadn’t seen him go this way and would assume he’d gone back around the front of the building, into the store. If he was lucky, he might gain a couple of precious minutes while they searched the aisles for him.
The drain came out near the school. Karl couldn’t hear the others behind him and didn’t want to stick around long enough for that to change. He started to move toward the school, but then realized it was probably locked on the weekends. Instead, he kept to the street, his eyes roaming frantically, searching for a hiding place.
Up ahead, a pickup truck stood parked alongside the curb. Karl peered over the edge of the bed to find a couple of shovels, a bundle of firewood, and a gas canister sitting on a folded blue tarp. No longer caring whether he made noise, Karl scrambled into the bed of the truck and pulled the tarp from under the gas can, shaking it out and pulling it over his head like a blanket.
He stayed there, huddled under the tarp, trying to move as little as possible. His breath rattled in his ears, his knees pulled up to his chest, as he waited for the threat to pass.
Interlude
SHAWN, FIVE MONTHS AGO
Shawn was beginning to panic. Finals were in just a couple of days, and he’d barely studied at all. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy all the impromptu activities Lisa suddenly wanted to do every time they got together to study—the mall, the movies, roller-skating—but if he didn’t manage to ace his finals, there was no way he’d be in the running for the citizenship award. And he really needed that award.
Not that it was a sure thing even with the grades, but he thought he had a decent shot. It was also his only shot; his dad would never pay for him to go away for school—in Gabe Rothman’s eyes, there was only one acceptable path for his son to follow, and that was directly in his footsteps.
So since the beginning of high school, he’d always made sure to play sports, join clubs, volunteer for committees, run for student council. All things the Buford County Citizenship Award selection committee would be looking for, in addition to the grades.
But he still needed the grades.
Lisa probably didn’t realize how long it took him to prepare for tests; she had always been able to simply glance over the material the night before and earn perfect scores. He was sure she hadn’t meant to make him fall so far behind. But now he had only a few precious hours left, and he wasn’t sure it would be enough.
He balled his fingers in his hair as he paced around his backyard, trying to recite all the US presidents in chronological order. He kept getting hung up around Rutherford B. Hayes and having to start over. He was on his third attempt when he heard someone say his name.
“Shawn?”
He stopped pacing and blinked at Lisa, hugging her books on his back porch. “Oh, hey, babe,” he said, forcing a smile. “I didn’t expect to see you until five.”
“It is five,” she said, holding up her wrist to show him her watch.
“Are you serious?” Shawn exclaimed, his chest clenching. He’d thought he’d have finished studying for History and English by now and would be ready to move on to Precalculus with Lisa, but he was still on his first subject, with no end in sight.
He hurried over to his pile of textbooks and folders and notecards and riffled through them, as if maybe he’d discover he’d been mistaken about just how much work he had to do that afternoon, and he was actually almost done. But if anything, there was more here than he’d mentally accounted for.
“There is no way I’m going to get through all this in time,” Shawn said, his voice coming out louder and higher than he’d intended.
“What’s all this yelling out here? I can barely hear myself think,” his father called sharply, sticking his head out the sliding door to the deck, his expression a thundercloud.
But then he spotted Lisa and his entire demeanor changed, his shoulders dropping and his face smoothing. In an instant, he was the Gabe Rothman people loved to invite over for Sunday dinners, the one who always kept Jolly Ranchers in his pockets for his clients’ kids and shoveled the neighbors’ driveways every time it snowed. “Oh, hi, sweetheart, I didn’t know you were here. Can I get you a snack?”
“No thanks, Mr. Rothman, I’m good.” Lisa smiled. “Just came over to study with Shawn.”
“That’s nice of you. Just don’t let him drag you down,” Gabe said with a wink. “He has a hard time staying on task.”
“I think we’ll be okay,” Lisa said as Shawn’s fingernails dug into his palms. Why did his dad always have to be like this? Everyone thought he was this great guy, yet when it came to his son, he was nothing but sharp edges and stinging barbs.
“Well, let me know if you need anything,” Gabe said jovially, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Shawn looked at Lisa, his jaw quivering. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said softly.
“Listen,” Lisa said, stepping into the yard and dropping her books on the wooden picnic table. “I know we need to study for Precalc, but you seem really stressed out. Maybe you need a break. It could be fun if we—”
“No, Lisa, no more fun.” Shawn groaned. “Can’t you see how behind I am? I don’t have time for fun!”
“Sorry,” Lisa said, looking slightly taken aback. “I was only trying to help.”
“I know. I know you were, babe.” Shawn scrubbed a hand down his face, heat pricking the backs of his eyes. “He just makes me so . . .” He trailed off, shaking his head.
He makes me like him, his mind whispered, but he shoved away the thought. He was nothing like his father. And that was how it was going to stay.
“What do you want to do?” Lisa asked.
“I want to go back in time and spend the past two weeks actually studying,” Shawn said. “I love doing stuff with you, but saying yes to all the stuff you’ve wanted to do lately has put me so far behind, and I don’t think . . . I’m not going to be able to . . .”
He swallowed, unable to voice out loud what he knew was true. He was out of time. He’d never get it now. “I just . . . I can’t stay here with him,” he said softly. “But if I don’t get this scholarship, that’s it. I’m stuck.”
“No.” Lisa shook her head, refusing to believe the truth that seemed so obvious to him. “No, there are still other ways. You can get a job or a loan or—”