I perched on the edge of the curb and shoved the helmet into his hands. "She's an overprotective hypocrite-" "At least you have one." He looked at me with a sadness that felt transparent and locked me out at the same time. "Where's your mom?" His secrets felt so close, just under the skin. I wanted to reach out and touch them, even the ugly ones.

He stared at the pavement, slow to answer. "I took something from her. She won't see me anymore."

I thought about Mona, my fingers in her tip jar. How balance could be found in something as simple as a chipped mug on Mother's Day. Even after our fight tonight, I'd go home and wait up for her. "Can you give back what you took? Try to make it right?"

His eyes lifted to mine. "I'm trying," he whispered. We both jumped as a door creaked open and Gena poked her head out. I took a guilty step back from Reece. She rolled her eyes and slammed it again.

"Are you coming in?" I crossed my arms over my chest. Everything about me felt inadequate, standing in front of Gena's house.

"I've got something I need to do before the rave. Gena'll take good care of you while I'm gone." He took both porch steps in one long stride and rapped on the door.

"Gone?" Suddenly the thought of being alone with Gena dropped my stomach into my shoes. "You're leaving me here? But-"

"Relax." He knocked again, looking me up and down with a wry smile. "You need to lose that shirt. I'll be back to pick you up in two hours."

"Two hours? I don't need two hours to change my shirt!" The door opened. Gena scrutinized me, blinking slowly, nails tapping her hip. "Oh, sweetheart. We're going to do a hell of a lot more than change your shirt." She grabbed me by the collar and dragged me over the threshold.

Reece chuckled softly as the door slammed shut.

Gena ushered me down the hall.

"Bathroom. Second door on the right. Hot water's on the left. Towels are under the sink."

Cold fingers brushed my ankle and slid up my calf, Gena's smoky skepticism raising goose bumps on my skin.

I rounded on her. "Hey, what are you doing?"

"I might as well be filing my nails, girlie. You need to shave those legs. There's a disposable razor in the medicine cabinet." She mumbled something in Spanish and I was grateful

I didn't understand a word of it. "Pits too!" she called out as I slammed the bathroom door in her face.

When I finally caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I cringed. My face was tear-streaked and puffy, and my hair was sticking up in every direction. I sighed and looked around. Every inch of counter around the sink basin was packed full of scented soaps, perfumes, lotions, and cosmetics. Her medicine cabinet was full to near bursting with beauty products. I grabbed a fresh disposable and was about to close the cabinet when I spotted something on the highest shelf.

Aftershave, an extra toothbrush, men's deodorant . . . I shut the cabinet.

Then I opened it again.

I reached for the aftershave and sniffed the inside of the cap. It was cool and heavy with menthe. It tickled the back of my sinuses and stirred a memory. But not of Reece. Feeling like a total creep-and relieved for reasons I didn't want to think about-I shut the cabinet and turned on the hot water.

When I was done, I wrapped one of Gena's plush pink towels around my chest, careful to cover the pendant that clung to my damp skin. I tiptoed into the hall, following my nose to the kitchen, where I found Gena spooning rice over a steaming thick stew. My stomach growled through the towel.

"Sit." She ordered me to a chair and shoved the bowl into my hands. "Eat."

I scooped in the first mouthful cautiously. It was full of meat and vegetables and gravy and I'd never smelled anything so good. I hoisted my towel up with one hand, shoveling the spoon to my mouth with the other, barely letting it cool before I worked in the next mouthful. With a snort, Gena snapped a chip clip over the knot in my towel. "You don't got much to work with up top, huh?" She

smirked as she adjusted the clip. When she pulled her hand away, Reece's pendant came with it, and her smile fell. We looked at each other. Neither of us spoke. Then she looked

away. "Eat."

I ate in silence, scraping every last drop of gravy from the bowl, and accepted another helping. Gena watched, scrutinizing my figure, face, and hair as I devoured it.

"You've got no boobs and no butt because you don't eat enough. You should eat. You skinny white chicks got it all wrong, starving yourselves. Men like a little something to hold on to, you know what I'm saying?" She patted the fleshy part of her backside with a manicured hand.

I licked my spoon. "Not all of us skinny white chicks starve ourselves on purpose. You know what I'm saying?" I felt bad for mocking her at her own table, but her lashes curled up, amused, even if her smile wasn't quite there yet.

"Tranquilo, I didn't mean anything by it." She grabbed my dirty dish and set it in the sink. "I can see why Reece likes you."

Blood raced to my ears and I tucked the pendant back into the folds of the towel. I didn't want to have this conversation with her. The pendant didn't mean anything. It was a costume. An act. "It's not like that. He doesn't . . . like me that way."

Her eyes flicked to the silver chain. "Doesn't he though?" I set the spoon quietly on her table, too guilty to look her in the eyes. How much had he told her? She couldn't possibly

know that I'd almost blown his cover at school, or she never would have been this kind.