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Authors: Shalanda Stanley

BOOK: Drowning Is Inevitable
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That sobered me. I guessed they wouldn't be able to travel home on their own, just casually strolling into St. Francisville and waiting around until somebody noticed them.

“When are y'all doing that?”

“I'm not sure. In a few days, I guess? We'll meet Vicky's friend and put you and Jamie on a bus after that. We'll make sure y'all are way out of town before we do it.”

“So then why is your dad coming here tomorrow?”

“I couldn't talk him out of it. He said he'd feel better being close to where I was.”

My dad had never been comfortable being close to where I was, which was why I couldn't believe he was here, in New Orleans.

Max sensed my discomfort and rubbed my shoulders. “He doesn't know where we are. I know where
he'll
be, and I told him I'd call him when me and Maggie were ready to go in.”

“Alright,” I said.

He squeezed my shoulders tight.

“I can't stand that you're doing this,” he said.

“You wanted me to pick a direction and go,” I joked.

“You know this isn't what I meant.”

“I know.”

“Will I ever see you again?” he asked.

“I don't know.”

He turned and walked to Steven's house. He never reached for my hand.

When we got there, Jamie and Maggie were on the front porch.

“My dad is in New Orleans,” I told them. “We just saw him. He was on the street.”

“Is there any chance he'll think to come here?” Max asked Maggie.

Maggie didn't get a chance to answer, because her mom walked up the porch steps. She stood across from us, arms hugging her body like she was protecting herself.

“My friend Louis said he'll do the passports, as a favor to me. There's this place near Audubon Park where he does it. He wants to meet tomorrow night. He said I should bring you.”

She looked at Maggie expectantly.

“Alright,” Maggie said.

“I'll meet y'all here tomorrow at nine.”

“We'll be here. You can go now,” Maggie said.

Vicky went down the porch steps, then turned back to face Maggie.

“I am sorry.”

At first I thought she was apologizing, but then she threw her arms out to her sides and looked down at her body. She was describing herself.

“Your dad has always been good. The only time I was good was when I was with him. I tried to keep up. I just couldn't. I know you hate me. And you should. But leaving you was the best thing I ever did for you.”

She turned and walked away, disappearing into the meandering people on the street.

“Good, you're back,” Steven said. He came outside onto the porch. “I have a favor.” He motioned for us to follow him inside.

“I need you to take a package to a friend,” he said, picking up a red duffel bag and handing it to Max.

It looked heavy.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Do you really want to know?” He waggled his eyebrows at me. “He lives on—”

“No. We're not delivering drugs for you,” Max interrupted and dropped the bag.

“I think you'll do anything I ask,” Steven said, smiling. “Everything has its price, remember?” The smile was genuine. He wasn't angry.

Steven looked at me. “Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, my friend lives on Dublin. It's six blocks down, one block over. It's a blue house with black shutters. You can't miss it. It looks like it might fall in on itself at any minute. His name is Mark, real scruffy guy, doesn't take a lot of baths. You give this bag to him, and he'll give you something in return. Make sure you make it back with it. Maggie and Jamie will stay here with me.”

Steven started whistling and walked toward the kitchen. He seemed so upbeat and happy, like he wasn't blackmailing us.

“Maggie, come try this gumbo and tell me what you think,” he said. “What are y'all still doing here?” he asked us. “Run along, children. Don't worry about the cops. They're too busy with the crowd.” He waved us away with his hands.

I took the bag from Beth and put it inside my backpack, then gave it to Jamie. “Hide this under Luke's bed.”

Max picked up the red duffel bag. “We'll be back,” he said.

We walked in silence, the bag slung over Max's shoulder. Life had become unrecognizable. Every time we passed a police officer, I kept my eyes straight ahead, but my ears burned, and I felt like the bag on Max's shoulder was screaming that we were up to no good.

We found the house no problem and stood outside of it. Steven was right. It looked like it might collapse at any time. It even leaned a little to the right. Max grabbed my hand.

“Let's get this over with,” he said.

I knocked on the front door. No answer. I knocked again.

“Hello?” I said. “We're friends of Steven's.”

The door cracked open an inch. Max pulled the bag off his shoulder.

“We have something for you,” he said.

The door opened the rest of the way. It was Vicky's drug dealer.

“Are you Mark?” I asked.

He nodded. He looked at Max warily.

“We just want to drop this off and get out of here,” Max said.

“Steven usually sends Luke,” he said.

I shrugged. “He sent us.”

Mark moved out of the way and motioned for us to come inside. The place was filthy, much like the man. He went into the kitchen, and we followed.

“Put it on the table,” he said.

Max did as he was told. Mark opened the bag and my breath caught. Inside were bricks of cocaine, like I'd seen in movies.

“Now this is pretty,” Mark said. He pulled a knife from the back of his pants. This was no pocketknife. It was long with a serrated edge. He cut open one of the bricks and did that thing I'd also only ever seen in the movies where he wet a finger and drew it across the brick, and rubbed it on his gums. My life was an unrecognizable, drug-dealing movie.

“Let me get something for you,” Mark said and exited the kitchen.

“Shit,” Max said. “What in the hell are we doing?”

“Our first drug deal,” I whispered.

The side door opened, and a guy walked in. “Where's Mark?”

“He's in the back,” Max said.

“Who are y'all?” the guy asked.

“We're friends of Steven,” I said.

“Ah. Where's Luke?”

“He's not staying with Steven anymore,” I said. “He left.”

“I bet Steven didn't like that,” he said.

I shrugged.

“How do you know Steven?” he asked.

“What does it matter?” asked Max.

“Chill out, man. I was just curious.”

The guy approached me. “I saw y'all there the other night, before Steven's gig.” He stepped into my personal space. “Since you're Steven's new errand girl, let him know I have a few things you can take care of for me, too.”

Max tensed next to me and straightened to his full height. “This is our last
errand
for Steven.”

Mark came back into the kitchen with a stuffed envelope. He handed it to me. “Make sure that finds its way back to Steven. All of it,” he said.

I nodded and put it in my backpack. Mark studied us for a second.

“Y'all don't look stupid, so I'm guessing you know what'll happen if it doesn't,” he said. He pulled the knife back out and set it on the table.

“We know,” Max said.

“Good. Now leave.”

“Gladly,” Max said.

“We're not doing anything like that again,” Max said as he threw the envelope at Steven.

Steven caught it with a surprised look on his face. “You like to tell me what you're not gonna do. It's cute.” He walked to his room. “The gumbo's done. Help yourself.”

“Mark was the guy from the other night.” I motioned my head toward the back room.

Maggie looked embarrassed. “I'm so sorry. I never thought Steven would use us.”

Jamie exhaled loudly and ran his hands down his face. “Tomorrow, everything changes.”

He looked at each of us for a beat. The music from the street was getting louder. He grabbed Maggie's hand and pulled her out the door and into the street. We followed. We watched as he spun her around and around, then dipped her back. I looked in the direction of the police, but they weren't paying any attention. Max and I were probably bringing more attention to ourselves by not dancing. Maggie and Jamie melted into the crowd, her face and body popping up every now and then, moving to the music the way only Maggie can. Because we were so connected, they could only go so far down the street before pulling us after them.

Somewhere between the porch steps and the middle of the street, it was silently agreed that the night was to be enjoyed. When we caught up to them, Max grabbed one of my hands and Jamie grabbed the other and they took turns spinning me. I wished I could keep both of them. We were immune to all serious things as we moved and danced, weaving in and out of people before finding our way back together again. Through all the dancing and laughing, there was a voice in the back of my head whispering, warning me that we were under some Cinderella spell, and that like all spells this one would be broken at midnight. But for the moment it didn't matter; nothing mattered but being almost eighteen on the streets of New Orleans with these three people.

Max stopped dancing, and he was sweating.

“I can't keep up with this one,” he said, pointing to Maggie.

“I can,” Jamie said, and he pulled her to him.

They performed their wedding-night dance, just like they'd done at most every function I'd ever been to that included music. The dance had been perfected over time. Max watched them with a look of awe.

I stood closer to him. He looked down at me, and for a time we stayed like that, bodies lined up, barely touching. The music wrapped around us, holding us close. Then Max brought his lips to mine, and the kiss was so soft. His hands went to my hair, his fingers playing with the ends, before bringing my hands to his lips. He kissed my scars, and I wanted to crawl inside him, the words
I love you
on the tip of my tongue.

Instead, I said, “This is a great night.”

“This is the best night,” he said.

The night got away from us without our noticing, the way nights in New Orleans do. Before long exhaustion hit, and it was obvious it was time to go back to Steven's.

Max said, “Wait here. I don't see any cops, but I'm gonna go up ahead and make sure.”

I said, “Okay,” but Maggie wasn't having it.

“I can't wait, I'm going with him,” she said. “I have to lie down right now, or I'm gonna pass out in the street.” She charged after Max.

Jamie and I stood in our spots until Max motioned to us from the porch. He didn't wait for us but instead went into the house with Maggie on his heels. By the time we got there, Maggie was already asleep on the couch. Seeing her asleep and knowing that morning would come soon, the sadness crept back in—the first sign the spell was breaking.

Jamie went to Maggie and gently lifted her head into his lap. He stroked her hair and watched her sleeping face. I said his name, but he didn't respond. He settled into the couch, like he was ready to spend the night that way, soaking up as much of Maggie as he could.

I opened the bedroom door carefully, not wanting to wake Max if sleep had taken him as soon as he lay down, like Maggie. But he wasn't asleep. He was standing at the end of the bed with his head bowed. He didn't move when I came in, as though he, too, felt the spell being lifted.

That night we went cliff diving at Thompson Creek, I was scared, but I jumped anyway. I was always scared when I was with Max—mostly of the way he made me feel. I knew I couldn't let one more second go by without telling him how I felt about him.

“I love you,” I said.

His face shot to mine. “You tell me now, the day before you leave me forever?”

“I'm sorry,” I said.

He paced at the end of the bed, his hands going repeatedly to his hair and then sliding down the sides of his face. “I know. I've known.”

I decided I wasn't ready for the spell to be broken, and I went to him. In the walk from the door to the bed, I only wanted to get closer to him, to get closer to the boy who carried home with him. When he touched me, my body fell into his, sending him off-balance and bringing us both to the bed. I wrapped up in this boy.

Our breathing was loud, and his hands burned me where they touched me. Instead of being scared, I wanted to get closer. We pulled at each other's clothes like it was a race to see who could get the other one naked first. Relief hit me when we touched skin to skin.

He hovered above me, his elbows braced on either side of me. His eyes looked deep into mine, and I wanted to die with him looking at me like that.

“You're beautiful,” he whispered.

The feeling of drowning hit me again, and I started shaking. I felt like I was being pulled under, but then Max put his mouth on mine, and I felt my chest expand with him, over and over again, my own resuscitation.

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