Rebel Page 12

“What did you do to drive away the one decent friend you had, that pretty Felicité Wolfe?” Grandma Ida demanded, then turned her scowl on Mom. “This is your fault, Martha. If you actually minded your children, Becky would have a nice Norm girlfriend that she’d be proud to bring home for dinner. A girl from the Hill!”

  Mom shot back, “When you tell me how to be in two places at once, Mother, I will be glad to mind my children and run my shop in order to keep food on this table.”

  Becky stared at her plate. Dirty grease was congealing around the raw potato. Her stomach made a nauseating flip-flop. If she didn’t get out of there fast, she’d throw up right there on the table. She flung down her napkin and ran.

  Behind her, Mom screeched, “Rebecca Callahan! You get back in here! You better not be going to that dirt-grubbing monster!”

  Tears blinded Becky’s eyes as she fled down the path. Dusk had fallen. The street lights blinked on overhead, twinkling like stars. A sob forced its way up from inside her chest as she ran, hoping no one saw her. But most shops were closed for the night. Becky slipped past them as if she were invisible.

  As she passed the stable, Becky dared a quick glance at Tucker. She was glad to see that he was finally walking without a limp. But Mrs. Riley, who was grooming Blackhawk, must have felt the vibrations of Becky’s feet. The motion of her currycomb stopped, and she started to turn her head. Becky couldn’t even face anyone as sweet as Mrs. Riley. She couldn’t bear to see anyone but Brisa. She backed away and fled.

  Chatter and music carried from Luc’s, so she avoided it and instead ran along the path between the wall and the gardens, grateful for the lack of street lights on the poorer side of town and hating herself for her own relief. Becky was the biggest coward in town. Nobody else was terrified by ordinary, friendly people.

  She ran until a stitch pierced her side and her breath burned in her throat. Then she stopped, bent over and gasping, at Brisa’s house. It was one of a row of old adobe bungalows, no different from the others, but it was the one Brisa lived in. The sight of it sparked warmth in Becky’s heart. Light glowed in its windows—their curtains were never drawn—and though the air was cold, the front door stood open, as it always did at dinnertime, welcoming any visitors. Laughter and happy voices spilled out, along with the smell of fresh tortillas and spicy salsa.

  Becky wiped her eyes as she slunk closer, uncertain if she even meant to go in. Maybe she should turn and go, leaving no trace of her presence, like the ghost she sometimes wished she was . . .

  “Becky!” Brisa charged out, her arms already open wide, her glossy black pigtails and red ribbons streaming behind her.

  Becky felt stupid for even considering leaving as she sank into the delicious warmth of Brisa’s strong arms. The painful knots in her stomach and heart loosened as Brisa swayed back and forth, hugging Becky against her lovely, soft curves.

  Becky buried her face in Brisa’s hair, inhaling her scent. Brisa always smelled fresh and flowery, like a summer morning. When Becky had told her once, Brisa had laughed and attributed it to the flower petals she used to stain her fingernails to match her ribbons. But it was Brisa’s own scent. Becky could smell it even when Brisa’s petal stains had worn off, or she was dusty and sweaty from training, or she’d just stepped out of a bath.

  “Did you hear?” Brisa asked, her breath warm against Becky’s cheek. “Or is this just a lovely coincidence?”

  “Hear what?”

  Brisa laughed, and Becky felt the vibration through her own body. “Lovely coincidence wins. Come on in and help us celebrate Cisco’s good news.”

  Becky peeked over her girlfriend’s shoulder and spotted Brisa’s oldest brother, Cisco. Like Brisa, he was round—more than round, he was enormous—and his smile shone bright as the sun as he embraced Tania, Alfonso Medina’s older sister.

  “Becky! You’re just in time for the toast to Tania and Cisco!” Mrs. Preciado said.

  Brisa pulled Becky inside, and her sister, Dominica, pressed a cup of dandelion wine into her hand.

  “Cisco and Tania?” Becky repeated, trying to catch up.

  “We’re getting married!” Cisco said.

  The entire family cheered and raised their cups. Becky copied them, doing her best to smile. Everybody clinked their glasses. The wine was sweet on Becky’s tongue, with a bite of citrus and a hint of summery grass. It went down her throat like golden sunshine.

  “Now, let’s eat,” Mr. Preciado called out.

  “Come on, Beck,” Brisa said. “You look hungry.”

  “I don’t want to intrude.” Becky’s voice came out in a rabbity tremble. “I just . . .”

  “There’s more than enough for a little thing like you.” Mr. Preciado’s voice boomed out. “Squeeze up, boys.”

  He pointed to the two youngest, who poked each other, laughing. But Brisa tugged Becky to the other end of the bench. “No, sit with me.”

  Becky despised herself for how she cringed inside just walking across the crowded room. The Preciados were friendly, and they really didn’t mind her being there. And she wasn’t the only guest: Alfonso Medina sat with Cisco and Tania and a couple of his cousins. Everyone was talking and laughing as if they genuinely liked being crowded in like this: three generations of family and friends, happy just to be together . . .

  That was something Becky never got at home. Ever.

  Brisa slapped a hot corn tortilla on Becky’s plate, piled it with eggs scrambled with cactus and onions, and topped it with fresh salsa. “Eat up! I made the salsa. It’s your favorite.”

  Anything Brisa made would be Becky’s favorite. But it did smell good. And though she hadn’t thought she could face food when she’d come in, once it was in front of her, the gnawing emptiness in her belly faded into simple hunger. Though she only had one haunch on the bench and was pressed so tight against Brisa that her right arm could barely move, she felt better than she had all day. The eggs were spicy and delicious, and the lightly sautéed strips of cactus gave it a fresh, green crunch.

  Becky gobbled up two tacos, then stopped, embarrassed at her greed. But no one even noticed, except for Mr. Preciado, who simply passed her another. One of the boys made a joke, and Becky felt Brisa’s curves shake with laughter. It made Becky want to cuddle up even closer, if that were possible.

  For the millionth time, Becky marveled that someone as gorgeous and sweet and playful and outgoing and all-round wonderful as Brisa had picked Becky for her girlfriend. She still had no idea what Brisa saw in the town mouse, as Henry called her. In her darkest moments, Becky worried that one day Brisa would realize her mistake and find some other girl to love. And then Becky would have no one at all.

  After dinner, everyone pitched in to do the dishes. Becky’s happiness faded at the thought that at her house, all the dirty dishes from tonight, plus the ones from last night, would be waiting for her in the morning. Henry had cooked, so Becky had to do the dishes. Tomorrow was her day to cook. Brisa would offer to help if Becky mentioned it, but that was why Becky would say nothing. Neither Becky nor Henry ever brought anyone home.

  Brisa cupped Becky’s face in her hands. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Headache? Cramps?”

  “It’s nothing.” Becky had been as slow to get her period as she was at everything else, but it had finally happened a couple months ago, years after the other girls their age. “Just me being silly.”

  “You’re never silly.” Brisa shook her head, making the trailing ribbons tying up her pigtails ripple all the way down to the small of her back. “I don’t think you’re silly enough. We need to work on that.”

  Though Becky didn’t know why, Brisa’s words made her eyes sting with unshed tears. She stood up, wishing she hadn’t drunk that wine. She had to get out of there before her emotions flooded out and ruined everything for everyone.

  “Becky . . . ?” Brisa asked uncertainly.

  Then Becky thought of something that would distract Brisa—and herself. “Let’s go visit Aunt Rosa.”

&
nbsp; Brisa gave her a wicked smile. “And her guest bedroom?”

  Becky prickled all over with heat, and not just from embarrassment. She nodded.

  “Mom! Dad!” Brisa called out. “Becky and I are going to her aunt’s place.”

  As Brisa’s parents told them to go ahead, the younger kids launched into the kissing song. “Brisa and Becky, sitting in a tree . . .”

  “You’re next, you two,” Cisco bellowed.

  They hurried out, Becky blushing and Brisa laughing. Becky held Brisa’s soft hand tight, trying to think of nothing but that she was about to spend the night with her wonderful girlfriend.

  But she couldn’t forget that in the morning, Brisa would go off to weekend Ranger training, while Becky would have to return to the dirty dishes and her mother and her grandmother and Henry, in a silent, bitter house where no one was ever glad to see anyone else.

  Becky could escape from her life for a few precious hours. But in the end, she always had to go back.

  Chapter Nine: Mia

  The walk through the desert and back to Las Anclas seemed endless, especially compared to how short and fun it had been the other way around. As they neared the town, Mia weighed the positives and negatives of the trip on an imaginary scale.

  Bad: Ross had barely said a word all day.

  Good: She had cloud viper venom and a plan for a new weapon.

  Bad: To keep the peace with Summer, Jennie had spent the entire walk back as teacher-Jennie, as opposed to Mia’s-friend-Jennie, so even when Ross took off to “scout ahead” (or escape Summer, Mia suspected), Mia still couldn’t talk to Jennie about . . . with Summer around, Mia was too embarrassed to even think the word sex . . . about Ross.

  Good: She had cloud viper venom and a plan for a new weapon.

  Bad: Summer hadn’t stomped back into the desert or disappeared in a puff of smoke. Mia felt guilty putting that under ‘bad,’ since she was Ross’s sister. She looked too much like him not to be. But she seemed to hate them all, Ross especially, and that was obviously making him miserable. He looked as haunted as he did when he woke up from a nightmare—as if he was in a nightmare. And Mia couldn’t comfort him, because he flinched if anyone came near him. She was sure she could if she could get him alone . . . but Summer was there.

  Mia couldn’t help glaring at Summer’s back. She was so small to be so awful. And that made Mia feel guilty all over again. It seemed unfair and immature to dislike a fourteen-year-old. But if Ross felt like he was back in a nightmare from his past, Mia felt like she was back on the schoolyard. Summer gave Mia the same walking-on-eggshells anxiety as the girls who’d bullied her at school when they were all ten.

  Good: She had cloud viper venom and a plan for a new weapon.

  Since “cloud viper venom and a plan for a new weapon” only counted twice no matter how often she thought it, Mia’s mental scale was weighted so far toward bad, it was about to tip over.

  But much more had happened than finding Ross’s sister, she reminded herself. Her appearance had cast such a dark cloud that Mia had nearly forgotten their thrilling trip into the ruined city, where they’d had adventures and made incredible new discoveries. And Mia had roughly twenty-two percent of a car engine. A car engine! That should count as three or four good things. Or twenty-two.

  Mia stacked twenty-two weights atop the two for ‘cloud viper venom’ and ‘plan for new weapon’ on her mental scale, and watched with satisfaction as it plummeted toward ‘good.’

  The rumble of horse hooves startled her. The perimeter patrol halted atop the ridge, silhouetted against the crimson sunset. Mia was too nearsighted to see who was riding, but two horses shone silver and gold. Kerry was on patrol, then; only she rode her golden stallion.

  As they scrambled up the dusty footpath, Mr. Riley’s booming voice called out, “Jennie? Who’s with you?”

  Jennie shouted back, “Ross’s sister.”

  The patrol burst into an incomprehensible chorus of exclamations and questions. Ross held up his hand, shading his gaze from the sun. Or hiding his face. Mia bet he’d make his whole body disappear if he could. He sure looked like he wanted to.

  Mr. Riley raised his voice. “Anyone who wants to return to town now can go. I’ll escort the explorers to the gates.”

  By then Mia was close enough to see the patrollers. Only Mrs. Tehrani and Mr. Garcia took off. Mia glumly watched them go. They were both notorious gossips who’d rather be first to announce the news than stay longer and get more to say. By the time Summer arrived, the entire town would know that Ross had a sister. Mia hoped they’d stare at Summer instead of at Ross.

  “We’ve got news, too.” Meredith nudged Sally forward, making her silver flanks shimmer. “Kerry almost got eaten by a queen lobster!”

  “Kerry, are you—” Mia started to say, but was interrupted by Summer asking, “What’s a queen lobster?”

  “It’s telepathic and the size of a house,” Kerry replied with relish. “Jennie, did you get into the city? What did you find?”

  “Are you all right, Kerry?” Mia belatedly got out, then felt stupid. Obviously she was. Summer made sure to catch Mia’s gaze before she rolled her eyes. Hot blood rose to Mia’s face. It was exactly like the schoolyard, where she could never say anything right that wasn’t an answer to the teacher’s question.

  Kerry ignored Summer and replied to Mia as if she appreciated being asked. “Yeah, I’m fine. She got into my head, though. I’ll tell you about it later.”

  Kerry didn’t like revealing ‘weakness.’ But she’d tell Mia. That made Mia feel a little less school-yardish. Jennie had protected her back then, and Jennie and Ross and Kerry would stand by her now.

  “Dad once told me about queen lobsters,” Mia said. “They’re powerful enough to get into anybody’s head. Guess we won’t be doing any swimming for a while.”

  Meredith urged Sally closer. “I didn’t know you had a sister, Ross.”

  After a pause that Mia knew would become an endless silence if they waited for Ross to reply, Jennie said in her teacher-voice, “Ross didn’t, either. They were separated as children. Summer heard about him and came to Las Anclas to meet him.”

  Summer pulled a face that made Mia imagine a newspaper headline hovering over her head, reading AND I WISH I HADN’T.

  “Ross, is your sister going to stay in Las Anclas?” Mr. Riley asked.

  Ross finally opened his mouth. “Will I need to speak for her at a council meeting?”

  “She can speak for herself,” said Summer rudely.

  Mr. Riley replied as if she’d greeted him like a normal person. “Welcome to Las Anclas, Summer.”

  He tucked his dreadlocks behind his ears, then leaned down from Sidewinder to offer her his hand. She hesitated, then gingerly held out hers as if she expected him to grab it and then knife her. Her tiny hand vanished into his huge one as he shook it.

  “How old are you?” Mr. Riley asked.

  “Practically fifteen.” Summer announced it as if she expected someone to call her a liar.

  Mr. Riley again ignored her tone. To Ross, he said, “You won’t need to speak. She’s a child.”

  “I’ve been traveling and fighting and surviving in the desert for years! By myself,” Summer added hastily, tossing her long black hair. “I’m not a child!”

  You’re a brat, Mia thought. You probably survived because everything ran when they saw you coming.

  Mr. Riley spoke again to Summer. “In Las Anclas, fourteen is a child. But Ross is nineteen and out of school, and that makes him an adult. If he takes responsibility for you, there’s no need for a council meeting. Do you take responsibility for Summer, Ross?”

  Probably nineteen, Mia thought. Ross still didn’t know exactly how old he was, or when his birthday was. She wondered if Summer did, but couldn’t imagine him asking her.

  When he’d first come to Las Anclas, Mia had taken responsibility for him. And she’d had a terrible moment when she’d thought her trust could have been m
isplaced. If it had, Mia would be legally responsible for any crimes he committed. Of course, Ross had turned out to be absolutely honorable and trustworthy. But Mia wasn’t so sure about his sister.

  “Yes, I do. She’s my sister. And my guest.” Ross spoke with a gritty tightness, as if he’d already resigned himself to taking the blame for Summer’s misdeeds.

  To Mia’s annoyance, Summer didn’t seem to understand or care about the risk Ross was taking on her behalf. She didn’t even thank him. Instead, she indicated the royal horses. The red light of sunset made Nugget’s coat glisten like molten gold. “Do guests get to ride those?”

  “That depends,” Kerry said. The westering sun lit her profile, highlighting her sharp features. “How’s your riding?”

  Summer lifted her head proudly. “I can ride anything with four legs. I was practically born on horseback.”

  Mia tried really hard not to look at Ross.

  “I’ll judge that for myself.” Kerry saluted Mr. Riley, then clicked to Nugget. His tail whipped up as if he were saluting too, then they galloped off in a golden streak.

  “Why’s that girl acting like she owns those horses?” Summer demanded of no one in particular.

  “Because she does.” Jennie smiled. “That’s Kerry Cho, the former crown princess of Gold Point. Those are royal horses.”

  “Oh!” For the first time, Summer looked genuinely impressed.

  Mr. Riley cleared his throat. “Summer, you can let your brother keep your weapons for you.”

  “What?” She clutched protectively at her knives. “No!”

  “It’s a rule for guests and visitors,” Jennie said. “And Pa’s right: if you don’t let Ross hold them for you, the sheriff will confiscate them.”

  Summer gave her fiercest scowl yet, then practically flung her holstered knives at Ross. “Don’t mess with them.”

  “I’ll keep them safe,” he said. But instead of being reassured, his sister rolled her eyes and sneered.

  Mia shifted her knapsack to her other aching shoulder.

  Ross tapped her arm. “Hey, Mia. Want me to take something else out of your pack?”