Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Oscar
I’m pissed at dad. More than I’ve ever been before. Dropping us off at Red’s house is not cool. Worse, Henri’s swarmed by the little kids, dragging her around, practically holding her hostage.
I can tell Henri’s upset too. Not just by my dad’s betrayal, but also because she’s stuck in a situation where she knows no one except me. And I’m her worst enemy, so I get where she’s coming from.
Inside, I’m disgusted with myself for feeling bad for Henri. She doesn’t deserve it after all the crap she’s pulled, but she’s scared for her mom. And I’d be too, if I had one.
We end up at Stella’s mom and dad’s for supper, eating barbecue. Stella’s mom is cringy, trying to make me and Henri feel better, asking us how old we are, what grade we’re in at school.
“You’re both so cute,” she says, like we’re Barbie and Ken. “You don’t have to eat anything you don’t like, but it’s all healthy food because these three girls are athletes playing for the Reno Wolfpack.”
She smiles proudly at Stella, Selma, and Lexie, and I feel a hurt deep down.
Dad has never smiled at me like that. I glance at Henri, who’s at the food table, flanked by the little girls, who are scooping food onto her plate.
I know that Selkie’s proud of her, even if she makes fun of her.
It’s in a teasing way and they banter back and forth. It’s dope.
I catch the eye of Red, who shakes his head. “Just go with it,” he mouths.
He’s right, I decide as Stella’s sister gives me a shove in the middle of my back and guides me over to the food table. “A big boy like you needs nourishment, so eat up.”
She’s talkin’ to me like I’m seven.
“Leave him alone,” Stella says. “He can do what he wants.”
“Geez, thanks,” I mutter, but low enough that no one can hear me.
Henri’s got a plateful of food and is being herded to a blanket on the ground. “Help,” she says to me as she’s pushed past.
The girl’s giggle. Red’s sister, Sorcha, says, “She’s so funny.”
I roll my eyes. Henri’s as funny as a week-long detention. But Selma’s right. I’m starving. Been a long time since breakfast, so I help myself to a chicken burger and some coleslaw because the rest of the salads are unidentifiable.
“You can eat at the adult table,” Mrs. Leith-Proctor says to me. “You’re almost grown up.”
I glare at Henri, who’s laughing hard at me. If I were Henri, I would have resented me, but she gets how uncomfortable I am and is making all sorts of mocking faces.
I guess she’d rather eat with the little girls. To be honest, so would I.
Dinner is bearable because Red sits on one side of me and Mr. Leith-Proctor sits on the other. At least until Mr. Leith-Proctor says, “We boys gotta stick together. Am I right?” He holds out his fist.
Adults can be so lame, I think as I touch knuckles with him.
Dad’s not lame. He’s cooler than anyone I know. Well, used to be. Droppin’ us at Red’s house and takin’ off is a loser move. As I bite into my burger, I think of ways I can get revenge on him. I might have to talk to Henri about it. She’s better at stuff like that than I am.
It’s almost 9 o’clock and Sorcha and Gabby are tired. They want to go home and start the pajama party, which means Stella and Red drag us all across the road. Selma and Lexie stay behind to help clean up.
Stella gives Henri one of her T-shirts to sleep in and I catch a glimpse through the open door of my bedroom as she storms past. She kind of looks cute in it because it’s big and drapey and falls past her knees.
But me being me, I slam the door so she knows I’m ignoring her.
It’s around 11 pm when everyone seems to settle down.
I’m tired so I stretch out on the bed fully clothed, my shoes still on and my hands behind my head.
The ceiling is white and boring and has no answers to my problem.
I’m worried about Selkie. I’m worried about dad.
If it was the Russian mob, she could be in big trouble.
Mostly because she doesn’t know when to shut up.
I’m still awake 45 minutes later, still worrying.
If dad got killed, what would happen to me?
I’ve never thought about it before because Dad sort of seems invincible.
But he’s not. He won’t go in hotheaded and risk his life, but around Selkie, he seems to lose his cool because she makes him crazy.
And he brought us to Red’s instead of the clubhouse, which makes me think he’s decided to rescue Selkie by himself.
Maybe they’re both kidnapped now because dad wasn’t careful enough.
I sit up and swing my feet to the floor, then I turn on the bedside lamp. I need to find dad and help him out. Keep him from doin’ something stupid. But I don’t know where the mob’s stashed Selkie, so how’m I gonna do that?
My phone’s dead so I can’t call him. Besides, if he’s sneaking around, I don’t want to give him up because his phone’s ringing. There’s only one thing to do and that’s to get Henri to tell me. But how am I gonna get into her bedroom without wakin’ up the little girls?
And also, if I do manage to talk to her, she’ll wanna come along.
My thinking’s interrupted by the squeak of hinges as my bedroom door slowly opens. It’s Henri. She’s still wearing Stella’s T-shirt and for some reason I’m distracted by it. I don’t know if I realized before how cute Henri is. She’s still a mouthy BIH, but that doesn’t make her less cute.
“What’re doing?” she whispers as she drops one of her runners.
“Shh! You’re gonna wake everyone up.”
“Sorry,” she mutters as she fishes for the shoe. I realize she’s carrying her clothes in a bundle tucked into her arms.
“What do you want?” I say to her, feeling better now that she’s here, but gettin’ pissed at the same time. “This is my room.”
She looks me up and down with a glare. “Why are you all dressed?” Then she stops and I hear the hurt in her voice as she adds, “You were gonna leave without me.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t. I was thinkin’ how I could get you without waking up those brats.”
“They’re not really that bad,” she says unconvincingly.
I don’t wanna get sucked into an argument, so I say, “I have a plan.”
“So do I,” she counters.
Crazy-maker! For once, could she just shut up and listen? “Does it involve you gettin’ dressed?”
“Yes,” she snaps. “But I couldn’t really get dressed in Sorcha’s bedroom, could I?”
I roll my eyes. “So you decided to come to my bedroom to do it.”
“Duh. Who’s gonna think I’d be in here with you?”
I shrug because she’s kind of right. “So get dressed.”
“Turn around.”
“It’s my bedroom.” Of course, I’m gonna turn around, but it bugs me that she thinks she has to tell me.
Her face gets red and I think she’s gonna cry.
“Geez,” I mutter as I turn my back and look at the wall. “Don’t be such a girl.”
A minute later, the T-shirt hits me in the back of my head. “I’m ready,” Henri whispers.
“Let’s go.” I switch off the lamp and head towards the door.
“We should go out the window,” Henri says.
“We’re on the second floor,” I reply, not waiting for her to argue.
“Asshole.” She follows me out the door.
As I start to sneak down the stairs, she whispers, “Why do you get to go first?”
I start seething. “Shut up until we’re outside.”
“You shut up,” she whispers, but after that, she keeps her mouth shut.
Once we’re outside, I lead her through the back gate to the alley. It takes everything in me not to start running. I’d leave Henri in the dust and that would be highly satisfying. At least that’s one thing I can do better than her.
After a few blocks, I turn to her. “If we’re gonna fight over everything, then we’re never gonna save your mom.”
Henri nods quickly. “Yeah. I thought that too.”
I rub my face. “So how’re we gonna do this? You’re the one who knows where she is.”
Henri looks around. “We gotta get to Reno first so maybe steal a car?”
“You’re kidding, right? I don’t know how to steal a car and I don’t know how to drive.”
“Well, maybe I do,” she retorts.
I’m kind of impressed by her and kind of jealous. “You do?”
She sighs. “No.”
I curl my fists and press them into my eyes, then glare at her. “Then why say it!”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really know why I say the things I say.”
“You should go to a shrink,” I mutter, then return my attention to the problem at hand. “Do you think your gramma would drive us?”
Henri scrunches her face. “Maybe. Hard to tell with her sometimes. And she might be working.”
I think of something else. “We should head to your house anyway because what if dad already rescued your mom and she’s safe and sound at home.”
“Then why wouldn’t they call us?”
“You don’t have your phone and mine’s dead, so they couldn’t get through.”
“They could’ve called Red.”
I grab my head. “Why? Why? Why, do you have to argue all the time? You’re not always right! And besides, maybe they did call Red and he decided to tell us in the morning.”
“But we would’ve heard—”
“Shut up, Henri. Please, just shut up!”
She gives me her ticked-off face. “Fine. Shutting up, your princeliness.”
Sagebrush is small compared to a lot of places, but it’s not that small. Henri’s shoulders sag as she’s trudges alongside me.
“You’re tired,” I say feeling smug that I don’t feel tired at all.
“Yeah,” she replies. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. Brielle and I had a pajama party.”
A pajama party. I didn’t realize Henri was such a girl. I guess when no one’s looking, she likes to play with dolls and stuff.
She brightens up when she sees her house. “It’s that one there,” she says as she points at Elle’s pink house.
“I know,” I say feeling surly. “I slept there last night. Remember?”
“How would I know where you slept?” she counters. “Could have been a garbage dumpster.”
“We weren’t gonna fight. Remember?”
“You started it,” she grumbles.
She’s kind of right but I’m not gonna admit it. Instead, I say, “You got a key?”
“Yes. Same place my phone is. At your house.”
“Switching us was the lamest thing my dad has ever done.”
“Yeah. My mom too.”
We stand there for a moment, confused that we just agreed on something, then I say, “I guess we’ll have to ring the bell.”
Which we do, three times. No one answers.
“Just a sec,” Henri says as she roots around inside a plant. “Sometimes gramma keeps a key—yup, here it is.” She holds it up triumphantly.
I bite my tongue, but why not think of that first?
She lets us in and we tiptoe up to Selkie’s bedroom. I don’t know why we’re being so quiet. No one answered the bell. No one’s gonna be home.
Henri stares at Selkie’s empty bed, then takes a swipe at her eyes.
I think about puttin’ my arm around her shoulder but turn my back instead and walk out of the room. It’s not a guy move, or maybe it is. I know she doesn’t want me to feel bad for her or see her crying.
I end up at the kitchen and grab some peanut butter and bread out of the pantry and make us some sandwiches.
“Grandma’s not here either,” she says as she walks in. Then, “What’re you doing?”
“Makin’ sandwiches,” I reply bluntly as I hand her one. “And thinking about what to do next.”
“Thinkin’ makes you hungry?” she mumbles around a mouthful of peanut butter and bread.
I grin as I swallow my bite. “Everything makes me hungry.”
She laughs lightly, then eats all the insides of the sandwich and piles the crusts on the counter. I already knew she did this because I’ve seen her do it at school. In fact, there’s not much I don’t know about Henri, which is really weird when I think about it.
I finish off my sandwich. “Let’s go,” I say as I wipe my hands on dish towel.
“Wait.” Henri climbs up on the counter.
“What’re you doing?”
“We need some money.” She roots around the top shelf of a cabinet, then pulls out a lidless jar. She frowns. “Nothing in here.” She hops down and puts the jar next to her crusts.
“Your mom keeps money in that jar?”
“Sometimes,” she replies. “Doesn’t your dad keep some money hidden at home?”
I shrug. It never occurred to me to look. Dad doesn’t seem the type to keep money in jars and even if he did, he’d know exactly how much was in it. And if some went missing there’d be hell to pay.
She takes a deep breath. “We need money, Oscar. We can’t get to Reno without it.”
“Yeah,” I say as we leave the house. “Now what?”
Henri shakes her head. “I don’t know.”
We stand outside for a few minutes, then I say, “If your grandma is working, we could ask her.”
She thinks this over. “She’s cool enough, I guess. And easy to fool.” She nods. “Let’s go.”
Henri stuffs her hands into her jean pockets as we walk. “What if she isn’t working? Or makes us go home? Or calls the police?”
“She seems okay,” I say. “And I guess we could blackmail her. Tell her we’ll tell her boyfriend how old she really is.”
Henri raises her eyebrows. “And I thought you were such a goody-two-shoes.”
“My dad’s a Hell’s Jury biker,” I say, feeling insulted. “I’m his son. What makes you think I’m not like him?”
She shrugs. “I guess because you never tried to beat me up.”
I stop in my tracks. “For real? You think my dad beats on girls? Dad would kill me if I did that.”
She hangs her head. “I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop punching you.”
“Ya think?” I reply sarcastically.
We walk along for a few more minutes, then Henri says, “What if gramma has no money?”
“We’ll ask her to give us a ride.”
“What if she won’t? What if she won’t be blackmailed?”
Henri has a point. “We’ll get the money before we check to see if she’s working.”
“And how’re we gonna do that?”
“I’ll get it. I know how to pickpocket.”
Her eyes light up with respect. “You know how to pickpocket?”
I shrug pretending that her tone of voice doesn’t make me happy. “Dad taught me. Only supposed to do it when I got no other choice.”
“We’ve got no other choice,” Henri says.
“Yeah. Monty’s will have a lot of easy marks there.”
“We won’t need to steal the money if Gramma drives us.”
She’s missing the point. “We can’t know for sure until we talk to her, and if she says no, then it’ll be too late to do anything about it.” I let the silence slide for a minute, then add, “She’s different, your grandma. Hard to tell how she’s gonna react. “
“Yeah,” Henri agrees. “Mad as King George the Third.”
Why can’t Henri just be normal?
She realizes I’m annoyed. “That’s what mom says. She likes to read regency romances.”
I don’t even know what that means.