Between Now & Never (25 page)

“Rachel seems to like her,” Dad says. Not what I expected.

Rachel has been better lately, taking a more active role in the family. Hanging around the table after dinner. Making eye contact. Taking her earbuds out. She even played the piano for Julianna the other day.

“Is she a good student?”

“Yes.”

“Good family?”

Because I’m not sure how to answer I falter for a reply. I contemplate various ways of phrasing a positive response but realize they would all be a lie. Her brother has been on drugs, her dad doesn’t exactly hold down a job, and her mom is incarcerated. Definitely wouldn’t fly with my dad.

“She’s helping me remember the accident,” I say, effectively changing the subject.

This earns a strange expression from my dad, one I imagine mirrors my own. There must be a million better ways I could have redirected the conversation here.

“What?” he says, his brows pulling down over questioning eyes.

It’s cold in here, a relief from the heat outside, and yet I feel a bead of sweat crawling on the back of my neck.

“Remember the photo-booth picture you found in my pocket the night of the accident?” I ask.

At first I don’t think Dad remembers, but the confusion in his eyes dissipates. “That was her?”

“Mm-hm. And those pictures were taken that night.”

“But she wasn’t with you when you got hit?”

“No,” I say.

“And you know, how?”

“She told me.”

“And you trust her?”

This is my dad. Always an issue of trust. I can’t blame him, though. Lies are the reason he has a job. Cheating, stealing, backstabbing . . . he sees it every day. Friends always ask if my dad’s job is just like the movies and TV shows. They’re typically surprised when I tell them it’s worse.

“Yes, I trust her.”

“I thought you were out with that friend of yours that night,” Dad says. “Vic.”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Well, how did you end up in a mall photo booth?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Is that when you met Julianna, or had you met her before?”

“Uh . . . we had met before.”

“How?” he fires back. “We’d only moved to Gilbert a week or so prior to that.”

I get the feeling this is only a hint of what it’s like to be interrogated by Special Agent Rush, and I suddenly feel sorry for the poor criminals out there. I take a deep breath, knowing my dad will wrench the truth from me one way or another.

“She’s Vic’s sister.”

I am so dead.

“
Vic
? The son of that Schultz lady?”

“Julianna’s different,” I begin to say.

“No,” Dad cuts in, his voice rising. “Absolutely not. What are you thinking? Their family is trouble. I put their mom in
prison
. I already told you to stay away from Vic. Same goes for his sister. Vic is not the kind of guy you want to hang out with. He was involved with drugs.
”

I snap out of it, shocked at the flash of remembrance. Freaked out.

“Cody,” Dad says, his voice cutting through the distant sounds of lost memories perched on the edge of my mind once again. “Do you understand me?”

Dad is more than upset and it’s not hard to understand why. I’m not sure what to say, not sure what to think of that memory of Vic. The joint. Weed.
I picked it up
. Vic promising to deliver money?

And I was involved?

“Yeah. Yeah, I understand,” I say and step toward the exit. He’s right.

I mumble an excuse, something about a headache, which isn’t far from the truth. Dad ditches our session at the shooting range and walks out with me. We say little else, and I’m glad. I stare out the window as he drives us home, feeling his probing stare.

He’s on full special agent alert mode, me being the subject of his scrutiny. And if I know my dad, it won’t let up anytime soon.

“G
ood morning, Highland Hawks!”

Monday morning video announcements are underway during second period, but I’m too busy finishing my calculus homework to watch. That, and I’m preoccupied with thoughts of Cody and our argument on Saturday. He infuriates me sometimes, going off about justice and law. Self-righteous jerk. Then I realized we were talking about a lot more than right and wrong. Life is harsh; that much Cody is right about, and he would know. But how did talk of Jimmy and death turn into his admission of fearing failure?

This week’s birthdays are announced, and several people in the class let out a whoop when Candace’s name is mentioned. I look over at her in time to see Cody wishing her a happy birthday.

Candace beams, reveling in the spotlight. She can’t stand
not
to be in the spotlight. I’ve always known this. Still, I didn’t think she’d dash in and sign up for the Miss City of Maricopa Pageant the first second she caught wind of it.

I force myself to refocus on my math. I find less and less time for homework now. The
Night with the Arts
is a week and a half away and the pageant is two weeks after that.

When the homecoming dance is mentioned, my head snaps up to the TV and I forget all about calculus. Homecoming is this weekend. In the rush to get everything ready for my pageant platform, I almost forgot.

Homecoming royalty nominees have been selected via popular vote. Connor Dominguez, Chad Watkins, Pablo Lopez, and all the regulars are announced. The football stars, student council populars, and even a couple of beloved class clowns. Then—

“And Cody Rush,” Nolan Sampson finishes and turns to Tracy Felberg, who will be announcing the female nominees.

I look over at Cody, who is hiding his embarrassment behind a grin. I’ll bet no one else in this room can interpret his expressions like I can. Candace grabs his arm, practically bouncing in her chair as a few of the guys congratulate him with whoops of approval.

“Trish Perry.” The first girl nominee is announced and I silently celebrate.
Go Trish.
I’m so glad she made it. The list goes on. “Jentrie Burk, Michelle Walker, Candace Landley, and Laurel Stevens.”

Candace and Laurel feign humility as friends congratulate them. Then Candace turns to Cody and lets out a squeal. “This will be so much fun,” she says and squeezes his arm. She’s probably touched Cody’s arm more than I have, which makes me sick. And jealous.

Lucas has avoided me lately, and I don’t blame him.

H
OMECOMING
?
I text him near my locker between classes. My teeth chew on my lip as I wait for his reply.

F
RIENDS CAN STILL GO TO HOMECOMING.
He finally texts back.

 

 

 

I’
D LIKE THAT.
I reply with a smile, feeling as though something unbearably heavy has been lifted off my shoulders.

 

The homecoming football game that Friday holds no appeal. In fact, I couldn’t care less. Still, I go to support Trish.

It’s a whiteout game. White shirts. White tutus. White cowboy hats. White, green, and black handprints slapped onto people’s bare legs. Highland goes all out. We even have a T-shirt gun launching T-shirts and other sponsored items into the crowd. Highland is up by seven points at halftime. The crowd is going wild, and it won’t be dying down anytime soon.

Side-by-side ATVS roll out as the homecoming nominees are announced. Butterflies gather in my stomach. I convince myself I’m nervous for Trish. I glance over to the open gate in anticipation, knowing very well who’s really wreaking havoc on my nerves.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that Cody Rush will always do this to me. Some crushes you just never get over.

Justin Crowder and Sasha Baker stand in the back of the first ATV, dressed in formals and waving to the crowd as they are introduced. ATV follows ATV, a pair of nominees in each. The top three words each nominee would use to describe themselves are read off. Hardworking, egotistical, friendly, a beast, loveable, fun, chill, nice. People laugh and whistle.

Cody’s ATV hasn’t come out yet. I remember the way we sat in his room less than a week ago. Cody played that song on the guitar, challenged me to sing. I took his bait once more, something I’ll probably always do. And I let my voice free, forgot my insecurities, and forgot the past. Music came alive in me that day, and I haven’t been able to get enough since.

I’ve practiced my pageant vocal nonstop. To say that I’ve lacked confidence since my
Guys and Dolls
solo would be an understatement. My tough, spunky personality is more of a front, something I’ve wielded like a shield.

Cody fears failure like I fear success. Fear of reaching for my goals. Now I want to conquer that. I want this pageant. At least I want to sing. When I sing I feel like I can fly.

“Connor Dominguez and Trish Perry,” the male announcer calls out.
Fun
,
happy
, and
crazy
are the words Trish chose. Connor’s three are
athletic
,
immature
, and
party animal
. Both descriptions couldn’t be more accurate.

“And our last male and female nominees are . . . Cody Rush and Candace Langley.”

Pain sinks like a hunk of rusty metal into my belly and I look away. They’re on an ATV together. I can’t blame Cody. I have no hold on him, never gave him a reason to look at me as anything more than his tutor, the daughter in one of his dad’s criminal cases, a poor girl in need of his pity.

Candace’s three words are
sweet
,
cheerful
, and
flexible.
I’m not so sure about that.

“And Cody Rush held nothing back as he easily described himself with these three,” the announcer begins. “
Beautiful, hot
, and
sexy.
”

Cheers and whistles ring out, a little more from the girls than the guys. I roll my eyes, knowing Cody’s lack of creativity is to thank for his word choice. Instead, he opted for a humorous reply like I should have known he would, one that was sure to get everyone’s attention.

The announcer laughs. “Judging by the response from the females in the crowd, I’d say he nailed it.”

I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. Can’t stand to look at the bedazzled royalty nominees lining up on the football field. All thoughts of our guitar and vocal moment gone, I dash down the stairs, the sound of my feet hitting the metal bleachers barely audible over the cheers of the crowd.

“Julianna,” Mindy calls out. “Where are you going?”

My heart hammers a path up my chest, swelling inside my throat. I pretend not to hear her.

Trish is announced as the runner-up, bringing my escape to a halt at the bottom of the bleachers. I cheer for Trish.

“Our Highland Hawk homecoming queen is . . .” the announcer draws out, “Candace Langley.”

Candace’s hands fly up to cover her open mouth. People cheer. Candace beams under the spotlight. Like she will when she takes the crown as Miss City of Maricopa in less than four weeks. I head for the exit.

“And this year’s Highland Hawk homecoming king is . . .”

I don’t need to hear it. Connor or Sam of course. The same two who have been at the top of everyone’s list since freshman year.

“Cody Rush!”

The name booms out into the night air, echoes in my ears. Pulling me to a halt.

People stomp on the bleachers. Cheering. Screaming. The new guy—Cody—homecoming king? However amazing and well-liked Cody might be, I didn’t expect this.

I stare.

I blink.

Cody walks forward at last, apparently just as shocked.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” the crowd chants as he and Candace are crowned at the center of the football field.

I’m numb, my feet cemented on the ground as my eyes refuse to look away. A suspenseful moment passes, every eye on Cody and Candace as the crowd chants. Cody smiles bashfully—not like him—and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. He’s not going to do it.

But then Candace reaches up and pulls Cody’s head down to her level, covering his lips with hers.

The crowd goes wild, mocking the hope within me. The kiss seems to last an eternity.

I turn and walk out for good this time, the stinging in my eyes making me realize how hard I’ve fallen. The major problem with falling is this: It’s rarely a pain-free experience. But what did I expect? Life isn’t fair. Especially when you want something you can’t have.

 

The number that shows up on my cell at eleven o’clock on Saturday morning is one I don’t recognize, and I’m about to ignore it.

“Hello,” I say after caving to curiosity.

“Hi, Julianna?” a female voice greets me, and it sounds familiar. One of my friends? No. She sounds mature. Confident. Proper.

“Yeah, hi,” I reply hesitantly, still unable to place the voice.

“This is Cody’s mom. I hope you don’t mind that I got your number from his cell phone.”

I sit upright in my bed and toss the nail file I was using aside.

“N-no,” I say, wondering what this is about. During a bout of insomnia at 2 a.m., I promised myself I’d scream expletives at the next person who mentioned Cody Rush to me. My dramatic determination to distance myself from Cody helped me sleep, if nothing else. Now, however, with Cody’s mom on the phone, all curse words evade me.

“It’s totally fine,” I say. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m great. Thank you for asking. I was calling to see if there’s a time you could come by to try on this mock-up.”

I also promised myself I’d stay away from Chadwick Estates, away from Cody’s house.

“You bet,” I reply. “When works best for you?”

“Well, I know you’re probably busy today with homecoming.”

Busy? I’m still in pajamas, I haven’t touched makeup yet, and I have yet to pick out a dress at Mindy’s house.

“No, today is fine,” I find myself saying, already at my closet door and searching for something presentable to wear.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

How can I be anything but nice to Cody’s mom when that’s all she’s been to me?

“Great,” she says. “Cody is running some errands for me, so he won’t be here.”

Said as though this might be a problem. She has no idea how relieved I am. Hopefully she assigned him a lot of errands.

“I can be there in a half hour,” I say.

Thirty-two minutes later I pull up in front of Cody’s house. Rusty shudders, grinding to a halt before I kill the engine. I say a silent prayer that he’ll hold out.

Cody’s mom welcomes me in, and I follow her upstairs to her craft room. I gasp when I see three dresses hanging by her sewing machine and serger.

“It’s the fabric,” I say, my mouth still hanging open. “The fabric you showed me.”

“Mm-hm,” Cody’s mom replies. “Your favorite three, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Mrs. Rush,” I gush.

“Please, call me Janice.”

“Are they—” I’m too embarrassed to ask, too shocked.

“Well, they’re made to fit you specifically, so I hope you want them.”

I run my fingers over the fabric. “I do.”

One dress is a rich blue, the sleeveless bodice tastefully decorated in sparkling jewels, the fabric fanning out at the waist into a full skirt. It shimmers in the light and has evening gown written all over it. The red dress is sleek and fitted with a slit. I picture myself onstage, singing as the spotlight catches the subtle diamond beadwork. The third dress is a beautiful coral. Knee length. A lighter fabric with intricate folds and twists around the waist.

“I meant to make a more professional dress out of this one,” she explains. “Maybe top it with a white business jacket or something. You know, for your interview with the judges. But I guess I had evening gown on my mind.” She laughs behind me. “You’re welcome to wear it to prom tonight.”

“Homecoming,” Rachel’s voice from behind us cuts in to correct her.

I think about Mama in prison, about how on my own I’ve been. A lump swells in my throat.

“I can’t accept all this,” I say, finally pulling myself together to face her. “This is way too nice of you, Janice.”

Rachel is standing in the open doorway behind us, one eyebrow climbing into a high arc. “Believe me, you’re doing
her
a favor.”

Janice laughs. “It’s true. And you might have convinced Rachel to let me make a dress or two for her.”

Rachel grins. “Don’t push your luck.”

I try on the dresses. Janice steps out while I pull them on, but Rachel stays to help me zip them up. They fit like a glove. Rachel claps her hands together.

“You
have
to wear this to homecoming tonight,” she says as we gape at the lightweight coral dress through the full-length mirror. “This dress with your dark hair—you’ll definitely be the prettiest girl there.”

Rachel is right about one thing: this dress is made to stand out. “I’m totally going to wear it,” I say, my eyes refusing to let go of my reflection.

“He wanted to ask you, you know.”

I easily tear my eyes away, my heart catapulting into a heady tempo as I search her face for an explanation.

“Cody,” she confirms. “You’re the one he really wanted to take tonight.”

“H-how do you know?” I ask, equal parts shock, hope, and disbelief converging inside my stomach. “Did he tell you?”

“Not exactly, but I know him well.”

It scares me how much I want to believe her.