Chapter 11 #2
Martina snorted, but it was Camryn who answered.
“They’ll do things on their end, sure. But they’re outsiders, even if they’re local.
We go to the school. We know the teachers, the other students, the day-to-day stuff.
Way I see it, we got an edge they don’t.
” She nudged her friend with her elbow. “And like Nika said, I’m not sure I can stay home and wait. Can you?”
“I don’t know,” Alexis admitted. “Staying home right now sounds pretty good.”
“I can’t,” Martina said with the tone of someone giving a confession. “Sit at home, I mean.”
Rick put a reassuring arm around her. “I’m getting threats delivered straight to my front mat, so staying at home isn’t much of an option for me. But I don’t want to sleep on Uncle Vic’s couch forever. I want this to be over.”
“To think two weeks ago, I was worrying about passing chem.” Landon gave an irritated huff. “This sucks.”
“I don’t want to die.” Alexis sniffed, wiping at her nose with the back of her wrist. “I don’t want any of us to die.” Her lower lip wobbled. “Bryce shouldn’t have died. Or Mr. Stephens.”
And since none of them could argue with that, or wanted to, the somber group headed for their cars, dodging a group of kids playing tag around the playground.
Rick and Martina were quiet for the first few minutes of their drive home, both lost in thought. At least, Rick assumed Martina was thinking hard. His mind had whited out, blank with the staticky hum of a white noise machine.
Martina finally spoke as he guided the Beast around the last turn to her street. “This isn’t going to help, is it? Nika’s and Zara’s plans, the group chat. None of it.”
“I don’t know,” Rick said honestly. “But we’re going to do it anyway.”
“Yeah,” Martina said with a sigh. “We are.”
He pulled to a stop in front of her house but left the engine running.
Martina swung her door open. “You doing anything tomorrow?”
“No.” Rick wasn’t very happy about that prospect. The shop was closed on Sundays, and he needed a day off, but he now had a tire debt to pay down on top of everything.
“Bring Dani over,” Martina said. “We’ll start our murder homework.”
“Not sure we should call it that.”
“And yet I’m not hearing any alternatives.” She hopped down onto the curb, hesitating before she shut the door. “Text me when you get home?”
“Yeah,” Rick said. “Sure.” She gave him a one-handed wave and headed to the house.
Rick watched until she’d closed her front door, safely inside.
He always made sure she made it in all right, but he didn’t think he’d ever watched so carefully before.
What had Camryn’s word been? Vigilant. That’s what it was.
He was watching with vigilance, and he didn’t feel stupid or silly doing it.
It felt much more foolish not to.
—
Rick texted Martina as soon as he got home, then helped his uncle make pork chops for dinner.
After dinner they settled in for a movie night.
Rick didn’t feel much like watching a movie, and he was sure Vic didn’t either, but his uncle didn’t want to leave them alone in the house, and Rick wasn’t quite up to playing board games.
Rick had just tucked Dani into bed and was settling down on the couch when his phone buzzed.
His uncle, who was picking up the popcorn Dani had somehow managed to get all over the floor, frowned at him. “You still getting a lot of texts?”
Rick didn’t bother lying—his uncle had a radar for bullshit, which he said was left over from his “own misspent youth,” whatever that meant.
“Some. Not as many. Not after Shauna blocked a bunch of numbers and I deleted some of the apps where people were DM’ing me.
I haven’t checked for texts since I got home, though. ”
Vic dumped a handful of popcorn into the compost. “Want me to check your phone? That way I can delete any sketchy texts before you see them.”
Rick handed over his phone. He was tired of people hounding him, of the uncomfortable attention and reminders that someone out there wanted him dead, and he kept thinking about Martina’s earlier words—about how it was just going to get worse.
Vic keyed in Rick’s lock code from memory and scanned the message. An expression of delighted surprise took over his face. “That girl you’re into, what was her name, Nika?”
Rick tried not to squirm. “Yeeaaah, why?”
He cocked his head. “Was she there earlier?”
“Yeah. Dark hair. Bangs. Green sweater with that, what do you call those, that kind of coat?”
“It’s a peacoat,” Vic said. “She was cute, in a bookish kind of way.”
She was beautiful, but Rick didn’t say that. He just nodded again.
Vic grinned, and for a moment it chased away the worried shadows Rick hadn’t even noticed in his eyes until they were gone. “Well, anyway, she texted you. Does she always text like this?”
Rick scrambled to a more upright position, his hand going out for his phone. “Like what?”
“Like she’s a fifty-year-old businessman who’s never texted before.”
“Let me see.”
Vic handed over the phone and Rick read the message.
Rick, I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, but how are you and Martina coping?
You’ve both been through a lot. Do you want to talk about it?
I’m not sure if you do. I read an article on the National Institute of Mental Health’s website to see what it recommended, but it wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped.
“She wrote a novel,” Vic said. “If one of my friends sent me that text, it would be three words long and involve an emoji, probably an eggplant, and zero punctuation.”
“That’s kind of how she talks,” Rick said. “I think.”
“Huh.” Vic rubbed a hand over his chin, his expression thoughtful. “I wonder if she’s nervous.”
“What?”
His uncle sat next to him on the couch. “I knew a girl like that. Super smart. Talked more when she was nervous. Maybe that’s why she wrote you a novel.”
Rick looked at the message again, like it might give him new insight. The concept that Nika—Nika Page, intelligent, confident, pretty Nika Page—would be nervous didn’t make any sense. “Why would she be nervous?”
Vic nudged him with his shoulder. “She’s texting a boy she likes. Good-looking, a little edgy—”
“I’m not edgy.”
“Has a cool car…”
Rick openly scoffed at this, despite his love for the Beast.
“You probably make her just as nervous as she makes you.”
“That’s what Dani says about snakes.” Rick stared at the message some more. What to say back?
“That kid is either going to end up being a veterinarian or David Attenborough,” Vic said. “But while she’s an expert on wildlife, I know more about dating, and I’m telling you that Nika’s just as nervous as you are.”
“I don’t think that’s physically possible,” Rick said sincerely. “I don’t even know if she likes me.”
Vic barked a laugh. “Oh, she likes you.”
Rick dropped the hand holding his phone into his lap. “What makes you say that?”
“She texted you.” Vic waited for Rick to see the significance of this, continuing when Rick just stared at him blankly. “She’s got Martina’s number, right?”
“Yeah.” Rick frowned at his uncle. “She’s just concerned. She’s a good person.”
“She might be concerned about you both, yeah, but she didn’t text you both. I bet fifty bucks she didn’t text Martina. She might ask after her because she’s a good person, and because she knows Martina is your best friend, but when you come down to it, she texted you.” His grin was smug.
“I’m not sure I agree with any of that.” Rick ran a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “Like I said, she could just be nice.”
“She could,” his uncle admitted. “But the two aren’t mutually exclusive, and I think I’m right. So what are you going to do?”
Rick hesitated, biting at his lip before giving his response. “Text her back?”
Vic looked amused now. “Is that a question?”
Rick hadn’t meant it to be, but it had certainly sounded like one. “Yeah, I guess it is.”
Vic watched him for a minute, his hands drumming on his thighs. “Does she strike you as the kind of person who enjoys games? The whole cat-and-mouse dating routine?”
“No,” Rick said automatically, knowing somehow it was true. “She’d hate that, I think.”
Vic nodded like he’d expected that answer.
“I’m the same way. Then I’m going to give you some hard-won advice.
If you want a relationship with her, whether that’s as a friend or a romantic partner, be up-front.
Don’t play games.” He clapped his hands against his legs a final time and kept them there.
“That doesn’t mean you have to start declaring your feelings yet.
What I’m saying is don’t wait to text her back for no good reason.
Don’t avoid messages, play hard to get, or anything like that. ”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Rick said. “Seems like a dick move.”
“You’d be surprised how many people I know pull it.
Some love it.” He shrugged. “Whatever you’re into.
But if you’re not into that, present yourself as is.
Respond. Be thoughtful. Be honest—if you don’t know what to say, tell her that.
Don’t fuck around, and don’t drag her along.
If you need to have a hard conversation, have it.
” He pointed at Rick’s phone. “And that means, if you need to talk about what you’ve been through and you trust her, call her back.
Don’t text. Give her that show of good faith. ”
“Okay.” Rick trusted his uncle’s advice, but he still hesitated. Calling people was hard. “What if she can’t talk?”
“Give her an out. Text her to see if she can first.” Vic clapped him on the shoulder and got up. “Now I’m going to go to my room and watch a movie for adults with lots of cursing and absolutely zero animated ponies.” He pulled a face. “I love your sister, but I can only take so much of that stuff.”
“Thanks, Uncle Vic.”