Wreckless (2 page)

Coloring inside the lines was safe. Safe was good. Good was easy—for everyone.

This? This was killing my drama-free zone.

“Okay. Thank you for calling. If you hear anything else, could you let us know?” My mother nodded and said thanks one more time before hanging up.

“Well?” I asked, surprising both of them. I’m not sure why. I was standing right there and more than a little curious what was going on since my fate was hanging in the balance.

My mother passed me in the doorway to sit with my daddy on the couch. In the last year, everything they did, they did as a unit. Usually I was glad for that. More than glad. Thankful.

Of course, usually I was part of that unit.

Not so much tonight.

“Well, we owe you an apology. I'm sorry we didn't believe you. But if there was a chance you'd started cheating to help Tanner, then there was a chance you'd started lying to cover it up.”

Seriously? That was her idea of an apology? As apologies went, it kind of stunk.

“What did Miss Farris say?”

My mom shook her head again, that crease between her eyes deepening. “She said she'd never sent a letter and she was surprised you'd be the victim of such a prank. Of course, she didn't think it was funny and is worried how many of those letters went out. She said to tell you she's glad you emailed her and let me know you got a ninety-eight on the test.”

I wondered why she seemed so laidback about this now. It was such a big deal five minutes ago. Now my parents were playing it off like it was nothing? They weren’t angry about someone doing this to me…or about how
they
had treated me?

My feelings were more than a little hurt. That I’d be accused of cheating
and
lying and then get the biggest non-apology ever? I mean, seriously?

Still, I was relieved. And not just because of the cheating thing. I'd never argued with my parents before.

“So, am I ungrounded?”

Mama glanced in my daddy's direction, as if this might even need to be discussed. No cheating should equal no grounding.

“Of course.” She stood and came around to give me a hug. “Sugar, I hope you understand that when a teacher tells us something, we have to look into it.”

Her voice trembled at the end, the sadness pushing out at the last moment. I got why she felt that way. Really. When you spent the last three years in a house reliving an event every time you walked in the front door, it affected your whole world. Sometimes I wished we’d left. Just packed up and moved away from all those memories Mama sometimes still couldn’t seem to escape.

But that had nothing to do with me. I hadn't given them any reason to doubt me. There’d never been any calls or letters home about me. There’d never been any broken curfews or rules fudged. I’d never taken any risks, given them any reason to worry, gone anywhere they couldn’t reach me. I was easy. That was the way they liked it. That was the way
I
liked it.

But she still looked so worried that I finally smiled at her.

“Thanks, Mama. I have to go call Tanner.”

And escape. I couldn’t help it. Sometimes I felt an overwhelming need to escape the people I loved the most—even if it was only for a minute.

I rushed to my room to find my phone. I could have sworn I’d tossed it on my bed, but after a few minutes looking through my stuff I found it on the dresser…where I’d left it, I guess. Me and phones, we were like repelling magnets. I glanced at my alarm clock. Quarter past seven. Hopefully Tanner was running late and could still pick me up. At this point I knew I’d be hanging out with his friends, but that was okay. We barely ever did, and they were always nice enough. No one actively making me feel uncomfortable.

After the sixth ring, his cell went to voicemail. I wasn't surprised. The fair was way outside town in the Dawson’s unused pasture running along the back acreage of two other farms. A long way out from every direction. There was zero reason to expect cell reception out there.

But this was even better. I'd just meet him there. It was totally out of character for me to be spontaneous like that. It would really surprise him.

And, I mean, who doesn't love surprises?

Chapter Two

I knew
exactly
what to wear to surprise my boyfriend. Thank you, Leah.

Typically I ignored all her fashion ‘advice,’ but that one day in the mall two towns over, I caved. Then went home and stuck the purchase in the far—
far—
back corner of my closet.

Behind all my everyday skirts and blouses, there it was. I pulled out the new red sundress and gave it a hard look. It was the
perfect
outfit. Leah had talked me into buying the dress a few weeks ago, but I hadn't had the nerve to wear it. It was fitted across the top with small straps and a sweetheart neckline. The skirt came to the top of my knees. I zipped myself in and checked my reflection, running a hand down my side.

There seemed to be a lot of skin showing. I could even see my bra and its straps. There was no way I was going out showing off my bra. Leah and I had argued about the straps. Her solution was to take it off. The bra, not the dress. I liked my solution better.

It was an easy fix. Shrugging the top of the dress off, I pulled a little white t-shirt over my head and slipped the dress straps back up over my shoulders.

Perfect.

Loosening my long braid, I brushed my hair out before reworking it. Braided, it fell past my waist, but that kept it under control. It was a lot of hair. I'd been meaning to donate ten inches to Locks of Love for a few months, but kept forgetting. Which made me feel like a horrible person.

I mean, here I was with all this hair—hair I’d been growing out for over three years—and there were kids out there having to deal with one more thing because of hair loss due to a horrible, horrible disease. But every time I thought about going to get it done… Yeah.

Snagging a pair of socks, I did the one thing I’d actually promised Leah I wouldn't do: I put tennis shoes on with the dress. I couldn't help it if she was all about appearance and I was all about comfort.

Tanner never mentioned my very-laid-back look. If your boyfriend isn't bothered by your clothes, then no one really should be.

I stuck some money in the pocket of my sweater then tied it around my waist. It bunched up the skirt a little, but the dress was still really cute.

Now all I had to do was get across town and find Tanner before I rethought wearing this red scrap of fabric out in public.

My mother was still in the kitchen, pre-making cookie batter to freeze in case of an “emergency.” She held a strong belief that you never knew when someone would stop by and you would want fresh cookies in under twelve minutes.

“Mama, I need a ride to the fair.” This had better not be a problem.

“Bridget, it's all the way out past Dawson's.”

“Yes, and I'd have been there already if someone hadn't mistakenly grounded me.”

She finally turned to face me. I could tell she was annoyed, but I had no idea how any of this was my fault.

“I thought Tanner was picking you up.”

“He was, but I had to cancel on him when I was wrongfully grounded.” I paused and let that sink in. “Besides, he's already there now, and obviously there's no cell reception.”

My daddy wandered into the kitchen, glanced between us, and could see things weren't back to the normal, happy-comfyness typical in the Larson house.

“I have to go to Agway.” He set down the ever-present coffee mug he carried around, his gaze skipping to my mother before jumping back to me. “Why don't I just run her out to the fair? Then I’ll swing by the store to pickup that equipment invoice.”

Mama looked relieved. For some reason, she seemed to be carrying a shovelful of residual anger over the cheating that never happened. I didn’t get it. It wasn’t like this was just one more thing. This was the
only
thing. Not to mention a
fake
thing.

She turned back to the counter and measured out an even cup of flour. “You'll just make it if you leave now.”

I didn't want to go out like that—with her still inexplicably upset with me. My daddy headed out the back door and let the wooden frame of the screen door fall shut behind him. The low rev of his truck’s engine turning over filled the quiet as Mama kept kneading that emergency cookie dough. I knew he was waiting for me, but I headed toward the sink instead.

“I'm not sure why you're angry with me.” The words slipped out in a whisper. As soon as I heard them, I started to shake, upset washing over me now that I wasn’t as focused on getting to the fair. And Tanner.

Her hands came out of the bowl and she braced them against the edge of the counter. With her gaze still locked on something beyond the window, she yanked the dishtowel off the oven door’s handle to brush the loose flour off her hands before turning around.

“I'm sorry, sugar. I'm not mad at you. It's just... I'd forgotten what it felt like. It's taking me a little while to backtrack out of it again.” She wrapped her arms around me. “You're one-hundred percent right. Now go climb in the truck and argue with your daddy about your curfew.”

I gave her a quick squeeze, glad that was over, and backed away quickly to avoid the memory-swamp she was feeling—that
I
was feeling—even if it wasn't my fault.

The truck rumbled down the lane, its old frame carrying us away from the farmhouse we lived in…and my grandparents had lived in…and my great-grandparents had built. My father, usually a quiet man when football and boyfriends weren’t involved, cleared his throat.

“Do you have your phone?” He shifted and pulled out onto the road, not glancing my way.

“There's no reception out there.”

“Bridget Anja, that's no reason not to carry your phone.”

Since I'd lost three phones already this year, it seemed like the perfect reason. Why carry something that wasn't going to work? The darn thing only got reception in town and school, anyway. And if I was in either of those places, all six hundred and sixteen people in Greenville knew who I was and would loan me a phone if I needed it. Or drive me somewhere. Or call my parents. Or the four billion other things you wished they
wouldn't
do in a small town but couldn’t seem to help themselves as they did them anyway.

But this was just another example of my parent’s paranoia: bring the phone even if it doesn’t work. As if there was secretly an In Case of Emergency, Press Here For Magic Cell Reception button on an inner panel.

Or not.

“Daddy, I already called Tanner. I know they’re not getting reception out there.”

“So,” he continued, “how are you getting home?”

I loved that we had to have this conversation. There wasn’t a male under forty he trusted. Tanner topped that list.

“Tanner will drive me home.”

“I want you home at ten.”

If we hadn't done this so many times it was practically scripted, I'd have been worried.

“It takes thirty minutes just to get out there. By the time I find Tanner, it will be eight. Then the drive home. Plus, I'm sixteen and it's a Saturday.” I could already see the sky lit up across the field from the flashing neons of the fair. The whir of generators and music rumbled over one another in the distance as we turned onto the dirt road. “You know you're going to just cave and say midnight. Since we're almost there, why don't we skip the fake negotiations?”

“Bridget, I just want you safe.”

I grinned at him. Just because he was quieter than my mom didn’t mean he was any less focused.

“I know, Daddy. But Tanner's a good guy. And I am Ms. Safety-and-Responsibility. It's hyphenated like the last names of those rich New York ladies who come here in the spring antiquing.”

He gawfed—Dad's version of laughing when he didn't want to.

“And,” I continued, “I’m betting you didn’t have Mama home at ten that first year you took her to the fair.”

“Yes, but I was courting your mama. If I thought that boy was going to stick, you’d still be grounded.”

“Daddy, we’re already married. Last weekend we jetted off to Vegas and Elvis held my flowers while I swore my undying love. You can start calling me Mrs. Novak.”

This time he actually laughed.

“See? It could be worse. Midnight looks pretty good now, right?”

“Fine.” He slowed to let a pair of teenagers cross from the parking lot into the lit walkway of the fair as he pulled to the side. “Since it's the fair, eleven thirty.”

Knowing the compromising was done, I unbuckled my safety belt and hugged him as he put the truck in park.

“Thanks, Daddy.” I climbed out of the truck and pushed the door shut and stuck my head back through the window. “Don't wait up.”

He grumbled something that sounded remarkably like, “As if,” and drove away.

I breathed in the deep taste of turned up dust against the heady scent of popcorn and sweet roasted nuts. The noise and lights bled through the edges of the world, lighting it in a rainbow of unnatural colors as I wove through the crowd. Beyond the fact that it was five miles past the middle of nowhere, the location was perfect. Far enough out that it felt like a trip. Plus, it was at the corner where Greenville met two other towns so half the county came out.

It felt…exotic. Or as close to exotic as I could ever hope to get.

I passed strangers—an uncommon occurrence—and realized most of the people I saw on my first loop around the grounds had no idea who I was. There was no preconception of how to treat me or what I may or may not be capable of. There were none of the looks people who knew about the past usually gave me.

Every now and then I'd catch a glimpse of a familiar face. A few people smiled safely from a distance. Just like usual. The magic of the fair only went so far.

It was a good reminder how lucky I was to have had Leah as a friend since birth. We'd been through everything together. Even now, as she'd seemed to have gotten more popular, it was comforting to know I was still her best friend.

Some things never changed, thank goodness.

Life was good as long as you had a core. I’d never needed a big circle of friends. Just a small, tight reliable one. Over the years, that circle had dwindled down to Leah, but neither of us seemed to mind.