"I think we should go out," I say.
It's my fourth time hanging at Blake's house. I got here late, so it'll be dark soon. The days between the hangouts have dragged on. I'd like to say I've completely lost track of the time since Jennie left, but I'd be lying.
"There's nowhere to go," Blake scoffs.
"We could go to the lake."
"No way."
"Get something to eat?"
"I'm not hungry," she says. "I haven't smoked today. I ran out of weed last night."
"Shit," I say.
"This sucks," she complains. "I hate messing around sober."
I sit up. "Do you want me to go?"
"No, you fucking weirdo," she says. "I know someone. Who sells. We can just go grab some."
"Do you have the money?"
"She owes me a favor. Or a few million, really," she says. "After all, she kept me as a secret for, like, forever."
My eyes widen as she gets up. "Your ex deals weed?"
She grabs her keys off her desk and then her studded wallet.
"You sound so scandalized, Lili-Bear," she mocks. "You're the one who's been smoking up her weed when we hang."
I flush. "It's different."
"So sweet and innocent," Blake laughs. "Come on. Let's corrupt you a little." She holds out a hand and I take it. Because I know she's been hurt, and I know deep down, you don't tell someone the stuff she told me unless you care. Unless you've got wounds you're looking to heal.
Blake blasts her music as we drive twenty over the speed limit, up winding roads we should really be taking slow. My head's spinning by the time she comes to a stop in front of a cluster of dilapidated mobile homes spread across a barren piece of land. The area's been stripped of all trees; a few stumps are the only hint of what came before.
Blake parks in front of a yellow mobile home that has cement blocks for steps.
"That's hers," she says. "I'll go see if she's home. Stay here."
She gets out and heads to the front. I watch her through the windshield, something funny building in my stomach when I notice she doesn't knock on the door. She tries the knob first. Then she turns in a slow circle on the cement-block steps, like she's counting the cars.
Dread rises in my chest. Something's not right here, and I roll down the window. "Hey," I hiss.
Blake's head jerks toward mine and she hurries over to the car. "Keep it down," she says.
"Is she here?" I ask, even though I know the answer.
"Don't think so."
"Should we just go, then?" Please, let's just go. It's like nails are tapping against the back of my neck in warning. My heart's beating like I've been running for miles.
"Nah," Blake says. "I need to smoke. And she owes me."
"Blake!" But she's already heading back toward the mobile home.
I watch as she tries one of the windows and, to my horror, gets it open. Shit. Shit. She's really doing this. She's stealing from her drug-dealer ex. This is insane. This is dangerous. Marco's going to kill me if someone else here doesn't.
My hand closes around the door handle, my thighs tensing, my heart screaming Run, run, run. But there's nowhere to go! We're miles away from anything. I'm stuck. I'm stupid and fucking stuck while this crazy-ass girl pulls risks I'd never—
The crunch of gravel behind me sends my clamoring heart into a full-on stampede. Panicked, I glance in the rearview mirror as a truck pulls up behind Blake's car. Blake's disappeared into the mobile home. I crouch down, hoping whoever's in the truck didn't see me. But what if they did? The windows are open. I can't roll them up now. Fuck. Fuck. We're doomed.
We're going to get beaten to death.
The truck's headlights light up the driveway, and I cringe as I hear the door slam. Someone's gotten out. I slowly peek up, high enough to see the side mirror. The shadowy figure heads toward me, and when I see the bat in her hand, my entire body screams at me to run.
Nowhere to go, no one to call, all alone again.
Panic soars through me as the footsteps grow louder.
"Hey, what are you—" says a female voice. I blink at the words, recognition skating along my rapidly firing brain, but not connecting.
"Lisa?!"
I blink up at Rosé, who's staring down at me with an expression of total confusion. She looks at the fuzzy handcuffs hanging from Blake's rearview mirror and then toward the mobile home.
"Oh, you've gotta be fucking kidding me," she says. "Is she inside my place?"
Before I can answer, Blake answers the damn question by choosing that moment to climb back out the window, a baggie of weed clenched between her teeth.
Rosé charges forward, bat swinging, leaving me behind, trying to piece together everything in my reeling brain. Rosie is Blake's maybe-bi ex?
"Blake! What the fuck are you doing?" she yells.
"Payment, baby!" The bag of weed falls out of her mouth as she laughs.
Rosie lunges for it, dropping the bat as she does, but Blake's too close. She drops to the ground and grabs it, dancing away from Rosé. She kicks the bat out of the way, cackling.
"Blake, give that back," she says. "That's a fucking ounce of Indica."
"Oh, it's an ounce of Indica?" she mimics her, her face screwing into a horrible imitation of Rosé.
My stomach twists horribly as I watch them. Is this what life is? Is this what love is? Just being used and fucking people over? Is this what I have to go through to be with someone?
Behind me, I hear a car door slam.
And there he is: the person who will absolutely make this terrible situation even worse. Kai comes strolling up to Blake's car, like Rosie isn't chasing a giggling Blake all over the yard and doesn't need his help. Just hands in his pockets, totally chill, totally focused on me.
I want to dig a hole and hide. But I don't have time to roll up the damn windows as he leans into the car.
"Well, look at you," he says, over Blake's giggles and Rosie's yelling. She still hasn't caught her. "Finally taking yourself out with the trash?"
I stare straight ahead. If I look at him, I'm afraid I'll do something like burst into tears out of sheer humiliation.
"Kai, can ... you ... fucking ... help?" Rosé bellows, finally getting ahold of Blake around the waist. She swings wildly against her grip, and Kai darts forward just as Blake kicks back, hitting Rosé hard in the knee.
Rosie goes down with a shocked, gutted noise.
"Shit! Blake, you bitch!" Rosé gasps.
With a bat in his hand, Kai leaps toward Blake, and she bolts, dodging around him and galloping toward the car, still clutching the baggie of weed at her side. She yanks the door open and backs out, narrowly avoiding the minivan, the biggest smile in the world on her face as Kai chase after us, swinging his bat at the car. But it's no use—she's gotten away. We've gotten away.
But it's like my heart doesn't know that.
She's still laughing as we speed down the tree-lined street, and when she glances over to beam at me, her laughter thickens.
"Oh, sweet Lili-Bear," she coos. "Did I scare you?"
"Pull over," I say.
"Wha—"
"Pull over!"
The car bumps down the uneven road until she pulls over to the shoulder.
I get out of the car. I can't be inside there with her right now. Those moments before I realized the dealer was Rosie ... I thought, fuck, I thought so many things and none of them were good, and all of them were terrifying.
"Are you gonna puke or something?" Blake asks.
I look over my shoulder at her.
"Get in the car," she says. "It was funny."
"No, it wasn't," I say.
She rolls her eyes. "Come on, Lisa."
"No."
Her face hardens, her mouth flattening.
"Fine! Have fun getting home, bitch!" And she drives off.
I pull my phone out. There's a part of me that hopes I don't have a signal.
Yeah, it's like fifteen miles to town. But walking fifteen miles home is almost better than the alternative.
But I have a signal. Which means ... fuck.
I take a deep breath. Then I punch in the number.
When he answers, I start crying. I'm crying so hard I'm not even sure he hears half of the story I spill, right there on the side of the road. But I do know he hears the last question, because it echoes in my brain, hours later, when I'm calmer.
"Dad, can you come and get me?"
Is this what I have to go through to be loved by a girl?