“For the purpose of street racing?”
“No, sir.”
He raises his eyebrows again. I don’t know if he’s waiting for me to explain why I did what I did to my car. I’m not sure there is a way to explain it, even to myself. I’m stuck somewhere between the cocky teenager I was and the responsible adult I’ve become. Phrases likecontributing to the delinquency of a minor,official investigationand evencourt martialare running through my head. I don't know what the penalty is for street racing in Washington or how liable I could be for what Tyler did with my car. The officer doesn’t mention it. He finishes his questions and asks me if there is anything valuable in the car that I want to retrieve.
The money Jess left is still locked in my glove compartment. I intended to return it to her, but I haven’t had the chance.
The cop escorts me to my car. I take the keys that are still hanging from the ignition and open the glove compartment. It isn’t easy. The hood on the passenger side of the car is caved in. There’s less than a foot of room between the smashed roof and the front dash. If Tyler had been driving with a passenger... The thought makes me sick.
I slide the envelope out of the glove compartment and then retrieve the registration and proof of insurance. Jess is talking to another cop. I’m pretty sure this is a bad time and place for me to return the money.
They haul Ty away in the police car. Jess follows. I feel like I should go with them, but she's made it clear she doesn’t want me around. I stay at the accident scene and wait for the tow truck to take my car to the impound yard.
I expect to feel some sort of loss for my car, something that’s been a huge part of my life since I was seventeen. I expect to be mad at Tyler.Maybe tomorrow I will be. Right now all I can feel is sick—sick at what could have happened, sick at what's going to happen to him.
I feel responsible. Maybe, in the back of my mind, I knew what he was going to do with my car. I should have said no, and then none of this would have happened.
forty-eight
Storm
Ifully expect Jess to slam the door in my face when she sees me. I knock anyway.
“I just need to see Tyler,” I say before she has time to shut the door.
I’m surprised when she moves out of my way. She looks so stressed. I want to put my arms around her, but I can only imagine what her reaction to that would be. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “He’s up in his room. They let him come home with me. I don’t think he’s asleep yet.”
Tyler is lying on the bed with his back to the door when I walk in. I sit on the bed and touch his shoulder. “Hey.”
His side heaves with one great sigh before he rolls over to face me. His eyes are red, and he looks scared. Scared of me.
I’m sorry, Jake,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know what to say. Part of me thinks I should yell at him—make him face this like a man. But I can’t. I leave my hand onhis shoulder and say, “I did plenty of stupid things when I was a kid. I made plenty of mistakes. I still do.”
“You aren’t mad?” The shock on his face makes him look even younger.
“Of course I’m mad. You did exactly what I told you not to do. You could have gotten yourself killed, you could have killed someone else, and you destroyed my car.”
He turns away from my gaze. “I’m sorry. I’ll find a way to pay you back. I promise.”
“We’ll figure that out later. Right now I’m just happy you’re okay. You’re in serious trouble, but you’re alive.”
He looks at me again. “Thanks, Jake.”
I’m not sure why, but I wrap my arms around him and give him a hug. “You mean a lot to me, kid. Never do anything that stupid again.”
Jess is sitting on the couch, staring blankly ahead, holding a mug of some steaming liquid when I come down the stairs. I approach her carefully. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she answers.
I sit at the other end of the couch from her. She doesn’t look at me, but she doesn’t tell me to leave either. I can feel the barrier between us, almost as if it were something real, a glass wall I can’t get through.
“I didn’t know you were home. Is school out for the summer?”
She keeps her gaze straight ahead. “I'm between terms. I’m moving to Spokane in a week to start my nursing clinicals.”
“Oh.” When I shift my weight, I feel the envelope in my jacket pocket. I pull it out. “I forgot. I wanted to give this back to you.”
