Chapter 7
I’m used to silence. At home. At school.
At the table I sit at by myself during lunch.
But silence with Kai is different. Softer.
Comfortable. At first I’m worried he’ll be able to hear how hard my heart is pounding and how deeply I inhale every time he so much as switches on the turn signal, but once he hooks up his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and queues up a playlist he says he listens to on his runs, I relax into my seat.
Ten minutes into the playlist I realize how painfully out of touch I am.
My Spotify is a relic from our old life.
Songs Papi would blast while he cleaned the bathroom on weekends, or that he used to motivate his teams while they ran laps.
Oldschool salsa and eighties ballads. Songs I stole off Joel’s playlist that I would play through my headphones, head against the window, pretending I was the star of a moody teen drama.
Joel always had the best taste in music.
The best taste in general. Even living in a house with so many rules, so closed off from everything, Joel managed to find other ways to experience the world.
He was an artist, like Kai, but he preferred paints over pencils.
And instead of heroes fighting crimes, he painted landscapes and detailed portraits—the places he dreamed of going one day, the people he thought he might meet.
He also loved show tunes even though we knew our family didn’t have the money to see a show on Broadway.
But he loved how much emotion they could pack into a single song, how loudly they expressed themselves.
He made the most of what our small, cramped world had to offer.
Thankfully, Kai’s playlist is a very different vibe from Joel’s, keeping me from getting lost in bittersweet memories. It’s more high-energy, perfect for exercising, but I like the way the songs make me feel even just sitting down in a car. They’re infectiously upbeat, like Kai himself.
We drive all the way to the edge of Millcreek. Past the road we usually turn off when we go to visit Papi, and toward the woods Mami always warned me to stay away from—like I could’ve gotten this far on my own. Still, her warning echoes in my ears as I swallow hard and sit up straighter.
Kai must notice my sudden nerves, lowering the music as he turns onto a narrow dirt road. “The others bailed on the dance so they’re probably already up at the house by now,” he explains. “You’ve met my sister, right?”
I shrug tightly. The closest Kiki and I have come to interacting was me stepping out of her way when she waltzed to the front of the cafeteria line earlier this year. “Sort of,” I reply diplomatically. “Not officially.”
“She’s great,” Kai says quickly, shooting me a smile before turning his attention back to the road.
The car rattles as it drives over bumps and loose twigs, not helping the nausea building in my stomach at the thought of having to face Kiki and her friends.
“And I’m sure she’ll love you.” I shoot Kai a skeptical look.
“Seriously!” he insists. “I know she puts on this whole bad bitch act at school, but trust me, she’s a huge softie.
” He slows down the car enough for him to lean across the dash and whisper, “Still sleeps with a night light and plushie.”
I hold back a snort. The image of Kiki Thompson, star cheerleader and queen bee, sleeping with a stuffed animal and a butterfly-shaped nightlight is as absurd as me taking her place on the top of the cheerleading pyramid.
“But don’t tell anyone that,” Kai warns. “If she finds out I told, she’ll murder me. And maybe you, too, so keep it quiet.” He winks before holding his pinkie toward me. “Swear?”
I don’t bother holding back my amusement as I slide my pinkie through his, ignoring the sparks that jolt through me when our fingers link. “You’re too fun to get killed off,” I reply with a smirk.
Kai beams, looking away from the road just long enough to meet my eyes and make my heart beat in triple time.
He opens his mouth, but whatever he plans to say next is cut off by my phone buzzing in my lap.
We both jump slightly in surprise, our hands whipping back to our respective spaces as I glance down at my phone.
Mikey.
Shit. Did Mami figure out I was gone already? Did he crack and tell her what I’d done—where I’d gone? I whip around to scan the back window of the car for any sign of Mami’s SUV.
“Everything okay?” Kai asks as we turn off the main path onto a new, narrowly curved dirt road.
We’re suddenly shrouded in darkness—thick clusters of trees blocking the last dregs of sunlight.
The incoming call cuts off abruptly as I lose service.
The car lurches over a large hole in the dirt road, which Kai quickly mumbles an apology for.
If I didn’t trust him, this would be the moment I’d realize something was wrong. Where I’d run away. But I don’t.
“Sorry, just my brother,” I finally reply to his earlier question, turning my phone over to avoid facing the One New Voicemail notification.
If he’s anything like me, he sat stewing in his anxiety until he was convinced he made a mistake letting me leave and now wants to try to convince me to come back one more time.
Kai glances at me for a moment before turning his attention back to the view. “He’s a freshman, right?”
I nod, surprised that he even knew Mikey existed. With how much we ignore each other at school, it wouldn’t be surprising if people didn’t know we were related at all.
“You two look alike,” Kai says, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Like your mom.”
The shock of his words makes me gulp so hard I almost choke on my spit. How does he know Mami? Other than her shifts at the Costco forty-five minutes away, she’s hardly ever outside.
More than that, though, I wonder what similarities he sees in us.
So many people over the years have said that we are Papi’s spitting image—enough for them to think we are as wicked as they believe he is.
Besides our size, I’ve never thought Mami and I had much in common.
Looks or personality wise. Then again, Mami has always been tough—the world gave her no choice.
Something that’s twisted over the years into stubbornness, a refusal to admit that she might be wrong.
Couldn’t the same be said about me, at least tonight?
I don’t have any reason to think I’m wrong about sneaking out tonight, but I can’t say I wasn’t stubborn about it, especially with Mikey.
Still, the thought of even that small, seemingly insignificant similarity is unsettling. The idea that I could become the wrong kind of stubborn someday. Or worse: I already am.
“Th-thanks,” I murmur quickly before the silence can sit for too long. Thankfully, Kai doesn’t notice the unevenness of my voice as he focuses on the last stretch of road.
I shift to the edge of my seat as the cabin comes into view, my breath hitching as I take in the sheer size of it.
Even from a distance it towers over the horizon.
A large front porch with swings and wicker tables.
Kayaks and paddle boards are abandoned beside the steps up to the porch.
Twinkling lights are strung along the trees to light the way to the river.
Music thumps from inside the cabin. As we get closer we can make out voices, see a small group gathered on the large, sprawling deck.
Kiki holds court from the center of the deck, vape in one hand and a red Solo cup in the other.
Her loyal subjects, Carla Gutierrez and a boy I vaguely recognize as one of the jocks they both hang around, are filling their own cups with a mix of juices and liquors spread out across the glass table beside them. So much for this not being a rager.
Kai parks the car, and my eyes land on a rusty axe leaning up against a tree stump at the edge of the driveway, making my stomach drop.
The handle is so worn it probably hasn’t been used in ages, and it would probably fall apart if anyone tried.
It’s innocent. Just an old, forgotten piece of hardware here only to enhance the rustic vibe of the property.
But it still makes my blood run cold. Memories of that night—blood on a blade—threaten to make me sick before I’ve even gotten out of the car.
I feel a sudden urge to grab it—to take it and bury it somewhere in a shallow hole in the woods. Just to be safe.
“You good?” Kai asks, halfway out of the driver’s seat.
I nod quickly, shaking my head and all those memories away, and give him my best, most confident smile. Once he closes the door behind him, I pull my phone back out and turn it off entirely—choosing to ignore the New Voicemail notification on the screen.
I’m gone. I’m safe. I’m fine, I repeat to myself like a mantra as I grab my bag from the backseat and shove my phone down as far as I can. Mikey can call me all he wants, but there’s no going back now.
Kai opens the door for me, and I give him another polite smile as he guides me to the house, keeping my eyes carefully averted from the axe.
“Hey!” Kai calls out to the others, racing down the path to the deck and easily leaping up and over the railing like it’s not a solid three-foot jump. “You guys remember Dina, right?”
The entire mood shifts the minute Kai says my name.
Kiki and Carla stiffen, cutting off mid-conversation like my presence is a record scratch.
The unfamiliar boy glances between Kai and his twin sister like he’s watching a Ping-Pong match.
I stay frozen to the ground, crossing my arms across my chest like they can guard my heart.
“Hey,” I call out weakly, unsure what to do.
There’s no way I can make that jump like Kai—at least not without getting myself hurt—and I’m not sure the others want me any closer.
I figured no one would be thrilled to see me, but I thought maybe they’d at least pretend for Kai’s sake.
That maybe the smaller setting, free from judging eyes, might make them kinder.
But that was clearly wishful thinking, especially about Kiki Thompson and Carla Gutierrez.
I fight the urge to run back to the car and beg Kai to take me home as Carla gives me a searing once-over. I remind myself that I was invited here—Kai wants me here. I have just as much reason to be at this cabin as Carla and whoever the boy with the leering smile is.
“We’re gonna get more drinks,” Kiki announces, completely ignoring Kai’s question as she tugs Carla back into the cabin by the elbow, slamming the sliding door shut behind them.
Kai lets out a quick groan of frustration, softening when he glances over at me. “One sec,” he says before bolting into the cabin after his sister, leaving me alone with a stranger.
The boy gives me a ’sup nod in greeting before hoisting himself off his deep lawn chair.
He has the typical high school jock look.
Long, wavy brown hair with matching brown eyes.
Strong arms and an even stronger jaw. His Brewers jersey rides up as he stretches, revealing a strip of his surprisingly welldefined abs.
A move I’m sure has earned him many admirers at school.
“Don’t worry,” he says as he drops his arms back down and leans against the deck railing. “I don’t think your dad did it.”
With a smirk, he follows the others back into the cabin, leaving me with nothing but the trees, the distant hum of bugs, and the sound of my racing heart.