I was so sorry. I hoped they’d know.
“What the hell—”
Chapter 34
April, sophomore year
“—are you kids doing?” The gas-station owner, a silver-haired man in coveralls, stepped out of the doorway, waving a red kerchief at us.
“Oh shit,” Frankie said. “Hurry up, guys. I can’t get in trouble—”
“I’m on the football team,” we all finished, nailing his inflection.
“You know, Frankie,” Heather said, carving her last letter, “I’m really starting to get over this whole football thing. Constant practice, never allowed to have fun. You should really find a hobby that suits my lifestyle better.”
“Your lifestyle of petty vandalism?”
Heather kissed the blade of her pocketknife, then blew the kiss at Frankie.
“Why does the gas-station owner look like an extra in a 1950s gangster movie?” Caro asked. “Did we slip through a wormhole and travel back in time?”
“One more Star Trek reference,” I warned her, “and I’m going to start calling you Eustice.”
“But Tiny’s right.” Mint slid his sunglasses over his eyes in full movie-star mode. “We should get out of here, daddy-os. Go burn some rubber before the fuzz shows up.”
“Nerds.” Jack waved a hand at us. “And everyone at school thinks you’re so cool.”
“Give me—one more… Okay, done!” Coop rose from the picnic bench and snapped his pocketknife closed. “You asked for immortality? Well, here it is. Feast your eyes.”
The seven of us gazed at the tabletop, where Coop had carved a message—with a little help from Heather, who couldn’t stand being out of the spotlight. EH7 was here.
“It’s beautiful,” Heather said. “I commend myself.”
“Classic,” Jack said. “Concise.”
“Good craftsmanship,” Mint agreed. “I know we’re all so surprised Coop knows how to wield a knife.”
“Did anyone else realize we just signed our names to a crime?” I asked.
“Uh, guys?” Caro looked over her shoulder. “The owner’s coming.”
“Oh fuck,” Coop said, scrambling. “Run.”
Heather squealed, and we took off across the rest stop to where the cars were parked, the boys piling into Mint’s Range Rover, the girls into Heather’s convertible.
Heather revved her engine and tossed the gas-station owner a kiss.
“You kids are delinquents!” he yelled, waving his kerchief after us.
“We’re so sorry!” Caro said as Heather reversed and then roared forward, trailing Mint.
“No, we’re not,” Heather yelled with a backwards wave. “We improved it!”
We slid onto the highway, which in Myrtle Beach was a two-lane road running parallel to the coast. The sun was setting, casting a softer, golden light. With every break between the houses, I could see the ocean, waves tumbling. The salty wind whipped our hair.
In front of us, Jack leaned out the window of Mint’s car and whooped in victory. Heather whooped back.
“You’re insane,” I told her, spitting hair out of my mouth, where the wind had kicked it.
“It’s spring break. You know I love you dearly, Miss Straight-A’s-or-Hara-Kiri, but try loosening up for once in your life.”
Caro snorted at Heather’s words, turning in the passenger seat to grin at me. Her dark hair flew over her shoulders, streaming into the back seat.
“I’m not uptight,” I said. “I’m very loose.”
“Ha! That’s not what Mint told me.”
I glared at the back of Heather’s head.
“That’s it!” Caro squealed, pointing at the mansion on the corner.
“No way,” I breathed. “It’s huge.”
Heather whistled. “Well, thank you, Momma Minter.” She turned in her seat and winked at me. “Whatever you do, hold on to that one.”
Mint’s car slid smoothly into the driveway. Heather followed, sighing dramatically as she hand-cranked her convertible top. “God help me with this car. I need a new one, desperately.”
“It’s an Audi,” I said, popping my door open.
“Yeah, and like, four years old.”
I caught Caro’s eye. We both started laughing.
“What?” Heather asked. “What’s funny?”
Coop raced over to us. “Jess, you’re going to love this. There’s a deck in the back that looks right over the ocean.”