“Firecracker? You still with me?”
“Um…” I swallowed. Hard. Then, I pointed at the metal rack by the parking lot, where my sparkly pink bike was sitting, helmet hooked over the handlebars, towel and flip-flops bundled in the front basket. “I rode my bike.”
His lip-twitch disappeared, flattening out all traces of a smile. “Can’t ride home on that foot. Got someone you can call?”
I stilled, eyes widening. I didn’t want to bother Aunt Colette at the shop. Mom hated when I bothered her at the diner, and she let me know just how much she hated it by screaming at me, top volume, if I dared. Even when I got locked out of the trailer we were living in last December on one of the coldest days of the year because her loser boyfriend-of-the-minute forgot to pick me up from school like he promised he would.
Mom had been beyond pissed when I called from the neighbors’ place. Not at her loser boyfriend for wandering off goddess only knew where. Atme. Since she was working the graveyard shift and wouldn’t be home until morning, she’d told me to crash on Jane and Stu’s saggy sofa. Which I did, not for the first or the last time. At least, until we uprooted again a few months later and moved to a new trailer in a new town with a new 24-hour diner and, of course, a new boyfriend for Mom. New neighbors, too — unfriendly ones, who made it clear their sofa was not an available crash-pad for stranded kids.
When Mom got home the morning after the lockout incident, still in her apron, looking dead on her feet and mad as a hornet, I got an earful for bothering her at work, getting her in trouble with her manager. Even though I couldn’t see how it was possibly my fault, seeing as I was only nine, I didn’t say a peep. Mouthing off to Mom when she was in one of her moods was a good way to wind up with a belted bottom.
Aunt Colette was Mom’s older sister, but she wasn’t like Mom. She was generous and relaxed and funny. She laughed all the time. She never yelled. But they did share blood. So, whatever anger Mom had burning inside her… I figured Aunt Colette might have it, too. Maybe I just hadn’t seen it yet. Maybe I just hadn’t done anything to bring it out of her yet.
I really, really, didn’t want to bring it out of her. Because if I ruined what I had going here in Salem, it would be devastating. The only thing that made leaving at the end of each summer tolerable was knowing in nine short months, I’d be back. And I needed that light at the end of the tunnel. I needed it like air in my lungs. It was the only thing that kept me from fading away completely in the dark.
I did not want to risk the air in my lungs, my light in the dark, by calling Aunt Colette, tearing her away from work — especially since this time, it actually was my fault. But, seeing as I was stuck, and in a fair amount of pain, and there was a beautiful boy sitting six inches away staring at me, waiting on my answer… I figured I didn’t have much of a choice.
I didn’t share the reasons for my hesitation with the Lifeguard God. I merely took a deep, steadying breath, nodded, and held out my hand, palm up. He didn’t say anything either, just passed me his cellphone and watched in silence as I punched in the numbers I’d memorized at Aunt Colette’s insistence.
“You’ve reached The Gallows, this is your executioner speaking,” her warm, familiar voice trilled over the line after one short ring.
“Hi,” I murmured softly, hyper-aware of the LG’s gaze on my face. “It’s me. Gwen.”
“Gwendolyn, darling! Is everything all right?”
I nodded even though she couldn’t see me and screwed my eyes shut. Bracing for the worst. The words came out in a breathy rush of air. “I’m really sorry to bother you. Really,reallysorry, I know you’re at work and you’re busy and I wouldn’t call unless I had no other choice, I swear I wouldn’t, it’s just—”
“Gwendolyn.” Aunt Colette’s voice had lost none of its warmth, but now sounded far more serious. “Darling, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. It was my fault. It was stupid.” I scowled in frustration at my own carelessness. “I stepped on an urchin.”
“Oh, no! Are you okay? Do you need a doctor? How bad is it?”
“The…” My eyes sliced open and cut straight to the LG. He was watching me carefully and something in his eyes made my breath catch again. “The lifeguard helped me. He bandaged it and put on the goopy stuff.”
At this statement, his lips turned up at one side in a half-smile.
“Are you at the beach by Winter Island?” Aunt Colette asked in my ear. “I’ll come get you.”
“It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” I lied, still staring into the boy’s eyes. I couldn’t look away. They were holding me hostage. “I can probably pedal with one foot...”
My words dried up as the boy shook his head, a flat rejection. He started reaching for the phone, no doubt prepared to expose my fibs to Aunt Colette, but before his fingers made contact I heard her voice again.
“I’ll be there in five.”
“But the shop—”
“I’m already on my way. Sit tight, Gwendolyn. I’ll see you soon.”
I heard the sound of the brass door bells as the shop door opened, and then she clicked off.
I blew out a relieved breath. She wasn’t mad. Thank goodness she wasn’t mad. I handed the phone back to the LG and he took it, sliding it into the pocket of his bathing suit.
“She coming?”
I nodded.
“Good.” He was still staring at me. “Hey, Firecracker?”