“Nothing worth it ever is,” Quincy said.
4
If your coffee was so dark a demon mistook it
for a portal to hell, you will need three things:
a new mug, a mop, and an exorcism.
—SIGN AT CAFFEINE-WAH
Auri couldn’t hear anything else after Quincy took his phone off speaker. And he’d walked off the porch after spotting her. Even his side of the conversation had been muffled. He’d ended the call, threw his truck into gear, and took off, tearing out of his drive with lights blazing before Auri could ask him anything.
Cruz brought her back to school in his late father’s red Dodge. They’d pulled up just as first period was ending, so Auri wouldn’t have to enter a classroom late without an excuse.
She looked over at him.
“Why would that girl say that about my mom?”
“I don’t know.” He got out and went around the other side to open the door for her. How many guys did that nowadays?
“Who would be afraid of my mom?” she asked when he opened the door. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
“I don’t know. I’m a little afraid of your mom.”
“Yeah, in a mom way. Not in a sheriff way.”
“I’m not sure I see the distinction.”
“Well, there is one. A big one.”
He held out his arms as though to help her down. It was quite a leap, but she slapped his hands away. “That’s just what we need. For you to rip your stitches helping me down.”
He chuckled and helped her anyway despite her protests.
She fell against him, her body sliding over his until her toes touched the ground. It was startlingly nice, and she gazed up at him like a lovesick puppy. Again. Apparently, she did that a lot. Too often, most likely. She recovered and stepped back. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to drive in your condition.”
He closed the door behind her. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to skip school in any condition.”
Touché.
“Hey, Cruz.”
A group of kids spotted them and walked over.
“You back?” a boy named Fernando asked.
“No. The doctors are making me stay home the rest of the week.”
“What?” A pretty girl with thick black hair sulked gorgeously. “What about the field trip?”
Cruz shrugged an apology as the other kids greeted him by clasping hands and leaning in to softly bump shoulders.
Auri probably should’ve been jealous at all the attention, but she wasn’t. Not in the least. To say that Cruz was well-liked would be a massive understatement. Popularity had been thrust upon him. Along with greatness. And hotness. A whole lot of hotness. But he didn’t seem to care. Had never seemed to care.
It fascinated Auri, and she had been contemplating that very thing when something Mr. Essary had said over the phone call with Quincy tugged her thoughts in a different direction. A teen girl? Maybe early twenties? A thought hit her. Before she could be certain, though, she had to find her archnemesis, Lynelle Amaia.
“Okay, well bye!” She tiptoed to press her lips to his cheek.
He bent obligingly and gave her a crooked smile.
She stopped for half a second to admire it before snapping back to the present. She had stuff to do. “Get some rest,” she said before whirling around to hunt down Lynelle.
She was stopped dead in her tracks, however, when Cruz barked a sharp, “Vicram!”
She froze. Time stood still as she turned on her heels toward him, mortification exploding inside her. The sea of kids that had been hurrying to class around them stopped mid-journey as well. They looked at Cruz, then at her, then back again before parting obligingly so she could have a clear view of her opponent.
And what a view it was. Suspicion narrowed his eyes. Knitted his brow. Thinned his lips. He recrossed his arms over his chest and waited.
She shrugged in question, the sharp action conveying just how mortified she was.
Then a dimple appeared on one corner of his mouth. “Where are you going?” he asked, his tone suddenly as pure and innocent as the freshly driven snow.
The sea of heads that had swiveled toward him swiveled back again, waiting for her response.
She offered a tight smile and said from between clenched teeth, “I’m going to class.”
“No, you’re not.”
How could he possibly know that? She blinked and raised her chin a visible notch. “I most certainly am.”
“I know that look.”
“What look?”
“That look.” He drew a circle in the air indicating her … look. “The one you’re wearing right now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking him with a huff of indignation. “I’m not wearing anything.”
“You weren’t wearing anything in my dreams last night.”
While the kids around them snorted at his confession, a shot of electricity rushed through Auri’s body, making her skin tingle.
“But here in the present,” he added, lowering his head to study her from underneath his lashes, “you are most definitely wearing a look.”
The other kids started scattering since the tardy bell was about to ring. Judging by their expressions, they did so reluctantly, still hoping for an argument to gossip about later.
Once they were alone, Auri walked back to Cruz, trying to ignore the warmth stirring in her abdomen. “Cruz De los Santos, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” It was like he didn’t trust her at all. The nerve. “What are you up to?”
“I just remembered something about Lynelle.”
“And that would be?”
The bell rang a split second later, dashing her dreams of forgoing a trip to the office for a tardy slip.
Giving up, she dropped her backpack on the ground and leaned against his truck. “I was in the bathroom the other day with Lynelle and her minions. I mean, they didn’t know I was in there. I was in a stall, but she was saying something about how her cousin, a freshman at UNM, was supposed to come stay with her after her last final on Thursday but she never showed up.”
“Really? Did they call her parents?”
“I don’t know, but Bonnie reminded Lynelle about what a spaz her cousin is. How she was always changing her plans last minute and canceling on them. Lynelle agreed and dropped it. But she’s the right age, Cruz.”
“The right age for?”
“The girl in the canyon. The one Mr. Essary found.”
He leaned against his truck, too. “Holy shit, you think it’s her?”
“I don’t know. I was going to ask Lynelle if her cousin ever showed up.”
“She’s not at school today.”
A-a-a-and, there it was. That spark of jealousy that occasionally managed to wriggle its way into her skull. Right beneath her submissive hemoglobin. “How do you know?”
“She posted something on Snapchat.”
“Oh? You’re friends with Lynelle on Snapchat?”
He grinned. “I’m friends with lots of people on Snapchat. She stayed home with a sick friend.”
“Ah,” she said, bouncing back into investigative mode. “Maybe it’s her cousin. Maybe that’s why she was so late.” She grabbed her backpack and took out her phone.