Wild Reckless

He skips science, and I notice the teacher put a packet to the side for him, his name scribbled on a sticky note slapped to the first page. It looks like notes for everything we’ve covered. This happens a lot. I wonder who delivers these to him, how his work gets done.

I’m already half expecting his truck to be gone when I walk out at the end of the day, so I move toward Willow’s car, meeting up with her in the parking lot. “So what’s the plan, chicka? Dinner with me, then the game tonight?” she asks, Jess coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her close. Everything about them is so easy. I hate them for it right now.

“Uh, I don’t know…I was gonna go with Owen somewhere, but…” I stand on my toes, looking around, but I don’t see his truck anywhere. I pull my phone from my pocket, hoping there’s a message. But there’s nothing. “I don’t see him, so he must have gotten busy.”

I say these words, but what my gut feels is that he forgot. It hurts, but I can’t get mad, because I’ve seen what life is like inside his house.

I follow Willow and Jess to Willow’s car, and we all climb inside, me taking the small seat in the back. I pull my phone to my hand and watch the screen, waiting for a message from Owen, for anything.

“Burgers?” she says over her shoulder.

“Yeah…that’s fine,” I say, not hungry in the least. We head to Joe’s Burgers, and as we pull into the parking lot, I swipe my screen and open a message to Owen. I want him to know where I am.

I probably want him to feel badly about it, too. It’s selfish.

You weren’t here, so I left with Willow. We’re grabbing dinner.

I keep the phone clutched in my hand, waiting for it to buzz, and the instant I feel it, I step up out of the line for food.

“It’s Owen. I’m not that hungry, so I’ll wait for you guys out in the car,” I say to Willow, her eyes focusing on me harshly for a few seconds before finally giving me her keys.

“I know. I’m not being careful,” I roll my eyes. Willow knows a little about what happened with James, but I would never be able to give her the full picture. You can’t understand unless you live through something like that—see it for yourself. I start reading Owen’s message before I get to the car.

Shit, so sorry. Time got away from me. I came home to check on James. Mom had an appointment. Can I come get you? Where are you?

I text him back quickly.

I’m at Joe’s. I’ll wait out front.

I rush back inside and find Willow sitting at one of the window-counter tables, her feet swinging back and forth underneath—so carefree.

“Owen’s coming to get me,” I say to her, dropping the keys on her tray and moving my phone into the side pocket of my bag.

She grabs the keys and slides them in her jacket pocket, but she keeps her eyes on me the whole time. She hasn’t actually said anything. In fact, she’s been nothing but supportive. But that look she gives me makes my stomach feel sick, like I’m letting her down, letting myself down, breaking rules meant to be followed.

“What?” I sigh, unable to take it any longer. Willow’s lips part, but she doesn’t speak, instead her teeth catch the tip of her tongue and her lips roll into a soft smile, one that tries to erase every message her eyes have been giving me.

“Will, come on,” I say, sliding into the seat next to her, my eyes shifting between the driveway out front and her. “Tell me now, before Owen gets here.”

She breathes in long and slow, through her nose, filling her lungs. I know that breath—it’s the one used for courage.

“Jess saw Owen buy drugs from a guy out in front of the movie theater last night,” she says, letting her words fall out all in one breath, her body heaving forward with the loss of the weight of this secret. “Owen was with House. Jess said he couldn’t tell what it was, but he could tell it wasn’t something…well, something normal. It was really weird, and Owen didn’t look right, and…he’s been smoking. I see him smoking with House in the morning, behind the school. Did you know he smoked? I know…I know; it’s not that big of a deal. It’s just…I didn’t know he smoked, and now I’m wondering what else he does. And his brother…”

She stops there, just short of accusing Owen of being an addict too.

I stare at her with my mouth a little open, my eyes wide, my brain working to find a place to put everything she just said—to file it and make sense out of it. I want to argue with her, tell her she’s wrong, what Jess saw is wrong.