Before heading home for the day, I stopped by my locker to dump some notebooks I didn’t need over the weekend. Waiting for me on the top shelf was another Queen of Hearts. Did the QoH have dozens of card decks lying around without one of their queens or did she somehow order them à la carte? The familiar swoopy lettering covered the back of the card.
A job well done deserves a reward.
Leave a card here with a request.
You have until Monday after school to decide.
If I had until Monday, that meant the QoH would need to come collect that afternoon. For the first time, I knew where she would be and when. She was as good as mine.
CHAPTER 18
THE MORNING OF HOMECOMING dawned clear and cool. At least it would be sunny, if not quite warm.
“Thank goodness it’s going to be a nice day,” I said to my mom at breakfast. “If the debate team had to do another car wash in the cold, I was going to call in sick.”
She looked at me over the top of her laptop, doubt evident in her quirked brow.
“Ok, I wouldn’t have called in, but I would have worn a waterproof suit of some kind.”
My dad walked into the kitchen and placed kisses on the tops of both our heads.
“Should we bring a car by for you guys to wash? We’re pretty good tippers.” My father could have written the handbook for cheesy dad remarks.
Hmm. My parents at the car wash fundraiser? No, thanks.
“Umm, that’s ok. I’ll call you guys if no one shows. Otherwise, we should leave room for non–debate team families. It will raise awareness for our program in addition to money to send the team to Nationals.”
Neither of my parents were fooled by my flimsy excuse. I got the double-brow-quirk treatment from the two of them. Did they have to practice that to do it in unison?
My dad gave me an indulgent smile. “Sure thing, honey. Whatever you need.”
He went about making a breakfast smoothie for himself, but I felt his words like a shot to the heart. Didn’t my parents know how hard I tried every day to not need anything? Ever since our talk a week ago, my dad had been extra attentive, so I was on my A-game at home. He didn’t need me to add to his worries.
A car horn sounded from the driveway. “That’s Gideon.”
“Doesn’t he want to come in for breakfast?” My mom’s forehead creased. She was crushed at missing out on some quality Gideon time.
“We don’t have time. Maybe he can come in for a bit after the carnival.”
With my mom slightly mollified, I darted out the door to meet Gideon.
“Hey,” I chirped when I climbed into the passenger seat of his dad’s car.
“Hey yourself.”
Gideon’s hair was styled with a deep side part. A pair of black Wayfarers and a faded tee advertising Palisade peaches added to the retro vibe.
“My mom misses you.”
“Who wouldn’t miss me?”
He didn’t miss a beat.
We pulled out of my neighborhood and headed toward Hell. The annual Homecoming carnival was set to start at ten. I was in charge of the debate team’s car wash and had to arrive early to set up.
I’d been prepared to tell Gideon about my latest card from the Queen of Hearts, but the words lodged in my throat. I’d promised to stay honest with him about the Red Court, but I was beginning to think he was safer the less he knew.
Counting the previous card from the QoH, which I’d never mentioned, this note was the second secret I had kept from Gideon. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone in my life I could be fully honest with. I grabbed my journal to put my thoughts to paper.
October 27
You reap what you sow. I dread my harvest of secrets.
I tucked my journal away and looked to Gideon. Journaling was one of the few things beyond his scrutiny. He knew what it meant to me, how important it was to my sanity.
“Remind me why you’re coming to the car wash?”
“I have nothing to do today. And something interesting always happens at the Homecoming carnival.”
This was true. Whether it was someone getting too aggressive at the pie-a-teacher-in-the-face booth or seniors commandeering the dunk tank for an impromptu pool party, the Homecoming carnival provided enough gossip to keep the school going until the end of the semester. The administration would have canceled it years ago if it didn’t fund half the clubs and teams for the rest of the academic year.
The coup de grâce was of course the parade. The debate team’s float was a car covered in what looked like soap suds to double as an advertisement for our car wash. School families and alumni all turned out to support the Heller High community. Everything wrapped by early afternoon to give us time to get ready for the dance, or to watch movies at Gideon’s again, whichever.
Gideon steered his way through the mass of students zipping around the parking lot getting booths set up and carrying supplies. He parked as close to the car wash as possible, which was on the other side of the school. Last year, half the team had come down with a stomach flu, and I was left to run everything. This year, trusting no one else, I volunteered to steer the ship as team captain. When we picked our way through the melee, I was shocked to find Gigi barking orders to everyone, including several senior boys.
“Nice work,” I said as Gideon and I surveyed the orderly way everyone was lined up, supplies ready to go. Some of the debate team members eyed us warily, and I looked to Gigi for an explanation.
Gigi, who stood all of five feet, beamed in my direction. “I may have implied that you’d randomly draw a name for someone to be kicked off the team if you got here and found a mess.”
Gideon barked out a laugh and tried to disguise it as a cough.
“I appreciate the initiative, but we need everyone’s help if we’re going to meet our goal for this year.”
Gigi had the kind of tenacity that surprised people, if only because of her small stature. She was a spitfire, hungry to impress and eager to win. After only her first debate meet, she asked me to start coaching her. When I looked at her drive to succeed, I saw myself mirrored, the better parts of myself.
Gigi excused herself to terrorize some juniors who were tossing buckets of frigid water at each other. The idiots were going to get hypothermia. October warm was not July warm.
I had just tossed my bag down when my phone started to buzz. I grabbed it and stared at the screen. Nothing.
“I think it’s your other phone.” Gideon’s eyes were wide with meaning.
I scrambled to grab my burner from the depths of my bag, ignoring the itch plaguing my palms at the thought of doing Red Court work today of all days. There had to be a better place to store my other phone so I wouldn’t get confused at which one was ringing.