Summer loved that Ashlyn didn’t throw hissy fits whenever things didn’t go her way, the way the blonde who was most likely glaring daggers at her back had. “Have I told you how much you rock?”
“Yeah, but you can tell me again.”
“You rock so much that they’re thinking about changing paper, rock, scissors, to paper, Ashlyn, scissors.”
Ashlyn laughed. “Okay, that was really bad.”
Summer smiled, the tension leaking out of her. “See you tomorrow.”
“Call me later if you’re bored.”
The next hour and a half was filled with dancing, insults, and tears. Anytime Summer suggested a move, all the girls vetoed it. Then Lexi couldn’t get the new moves and ended up crying. Finally they called practice before anyone else could have a nervous breakdown.
Pulling her jacket tight against the cool air, Summer walked to her car. Troy’s Jeep sat a few spaces away from hers. She glanced around, but there was no sign of him. That boy is hiding something, and it’s got to be bad if he doesn’t want anyone to know what it is.
Summer climbed in her car and slammed the door. She didn’t want to think about Troy. Chevelle greeted her when she started up her car—nice and loud, just the way she liked it. As she drove away, her thoughts turned to Ashlyn. She waited until she reached a stoplight to grab her phone and call her. “So, I’m all danced out,” Summer said after Ashlyn answered.
“I guess you don’t want to hit the beach first thing tomorrow morning, then?”
“No, not really.” Summer thought of Ashlyn, the scare on Saturday. “Promise me you won’t go surfing without me, though.”
“Summer, I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’ll go with you then. Just don’t go without me.”
“Don’t worry,” Ashlyn said. “I’m not going to go tomorrow. Maybe Saturday.”
“Saturday’s good.” Red and blue lights flashed behind Summer. “Oh, holy crap. Ashlyn, I’ve got to go. I’m getting pulled over. Again.”
Summer tossed her phone onto the passenger seat and pulled to the side of the road. Dad was going to kill her. How many times had he lectured her about talking on her phone while driving? He wouldn’t care that she’d waited for a stoplight or that she wasn’t speeding.
I’m almost sure I wasn’t speeding. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned over to get all the necessary paperwork out of the glove box. Okay, calm down. Who knows why he’s stopping me. It’s so dark, there’s no way he could possibly see I was on the phone.
“Oh joy,” Summer said when she saw the cop standing next to her car. “It’s the same guy.”
Summer rolled down her window. “I swear I wasn’t speeding.”
“You were on your cell phone,” the officer said.
“You can’t be on a cell phone here? I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just moved from Idaho.” Yes, she knew the states where you could legally talk on the phone as a minor—Dad had told her that even if they’d lived in those states, he still wouldn’t let her. She really hoped the cop wouldn’t look that up, although this guy probably would.
“You’re not wearing your seatbelt either.”
Summer looked down. “Oh yeah, ‘cause I got out all my paperwork.” She held it up.
He took the papers from her. “I’ll be right back.”
“But this is just a warning, right? Since I didn’t know?”
“I don’t give warnings,” he said before walking back to his car.
Summer glanced at her passenger seat, expecting Gabriella to show up. Minutes passed, and she didn’t show, leaving Summer to think she was on her own. Well, at least I don’t have to sit through one of her lectures, but I could use some advice. Dad’s so not going to be happy about me getting another ticket.
She tapped her fingers on her thighs, wondering how she was going to break it to him. Then again, who says he has to know?
Summer tossed her keys in the bowl and closed the door behind her. On the drive home, she’d formulated a plan. She’d pull out money from her savings account to pay for the ticket. That way, Dad would never have to know.
“Hey, kid,” Dad’s voice drifted into the room. “Why don’t you come here for a minute?”
When she got into the living room, Tiffany was on the couch next to dad. While she looked like she usually did—hair pulled up, dress, high heels—there was something different in her expression. Worry? Fear?
“What’s going on?” Dad asked.
Good thing Dad couldn’t hear her heart beating, because the guilt of not telling him about the ticket was making her twitchy. The way he looked at her, it was like he already knew. But there was no way he possibly could.
Summer cleared her throat, shifting from her right foot to her left. “Well, you got my text about late practice, right? Kendall wanted to whip everyone into perfect form for the pep rally.”
Dad nodded. Behind his back, Tiffany made arm motions. Palms together, apparently motioning a fish.
“Did you go fishing?” Summer asked.
Tiffany dropped her hands and shook her head.
“When have I ever gone fishing?” Dad asked. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me something?”
Summer searched for something to tell him. Any news to satisfy his curiosity. “Troy and I got in a fight today. He can be so frustrating.” Hanging around all those girls. Then he acted shocked that she wasn’t happy to be next in line. Ugh. “Anyway, I’m kind of bummed about it, so I’m just going to head to my room.” She turned to walk away.
“If you think you’re going to your room before we discuss you getting pulled over for the second time in a matter of weeks, then you’re mistaken.”
Summer froze. How can he possibly know that? He’s good, but not that good.
When she turned back to face dad, she noticed Tiffany chewing on her nails, avoiding eye contact. Dad’s girlfriend had ratted her out.
“Tiffany was driving over here and saw you pulled off the road, a cop car behind you,” Dad said.
Summer clenched her teeth and turned her gaze to her betrayer.
“Don’t be mad at her. She was worried about you.”
“Dad, I’m going to take care of it. I wasn’t speeding—I’ve been so careful not to. I dialed at a stoplight, so see, I was thinking about safety. I just really needed to talk to Ashlyn, only for a quick second. It was the same cop, and, as he so nicely informed me, he doesn’t give warnings.”
“You should’ve told me,” Dad said. “Instead, you tried to hide it.”
“But Dad—”
“I’m disappointed. Now go to your room. We’ll discuss your punishment later.” He didn’t have to yell; the tone was enough to say there was no point arguing.
Summer trudged upstairs. She’d tried to give Tiffany a shot, but the woman just ruined it. A horrible feeling twisted in the pit of her stomach. Dad was disappointed in her. She’d rather get grounded, or have him yell at her—anything was better than him saying that.
I can’t get grounded, though. Ashlyn’s life depends on me being by her side to keep her from dying.
How am I ever going to explain that to Dad, though?
Summer kicked off her shoes and dove onto her bed, burying her face in her pillows. The days kept getting crappier and crappier. She wanted this one to hurry up and end before it could get any worse.
She rolled over, and her gaze drifted to the stupid brochure on her nightstand. It was propped up so she couldn’t miss it, and she knew she hadn’t been the one to put it there. She grabbed it and opened it up. A post-it was stuck over the tips for open communication. In glittery pink handwriting was a simple message: