Her eyes water. “One hundred and seventy-two days ago,” she answers, as if every day’s a hash mark etched in her heart.
“I miss it too,” he says, touching his chest. He reaches for the piece of paper in her hand and holds it out in front of her. She blinks at the wordARIZONA, and a tear falls down her face. “I’ve known you almost fifty years, Amber. Longer than anyone.Betterthan anyone. You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t want this, too.”
She darts shamed looks around the storage room, as if she wishes it weren’t so small and we weren’t all here. “But you’re all I have left,” she whispers.
“I’m notaskingto leave you. I’m asking to gowithyou.” He rests a hand on her shoulder.
She swats away a tear, pretending it’s something else.
“We’ll stop in Arizona,” I offer. “For whatever’s there. However long you want. I promise.”
Woody turns to the rest of us before Amber can muster the voice to argue. “If Jack’s right, it will take all four of you to survive off the grid. Where’s Marie?”
“She refused to come.” I glance pointedly at Amber. “One of us will have to talk to Julio.”
She shrinks away from me, her jaw hardening as the others look at her, too. “No. Are you kidding? I can’t be the one to do it! There’s no way Julio would let me get close enough to talk to him.”
“He let you get close enough to kiss him,” Chill mutters.
Amber’s face glows hot enough to set us all on fire. I elbow Chill in the ribs.
“Tell them, Woody!” she barks at him. Woody just stares at her, holding my drawing as if it’s something fragile, precious. “Fine!” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll talk to him. But I’m not making any promises.”
The rush of adrenaline I feel is almost dizzying. We’re one step closer to the ledge. “That just leaves Fleur.”
Poppy’s silent, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She shakes her head, her voice trembling when she finally speaks. “We still have one spring left. I can get her above the red line. We don’t have to do this.” She shoulders past Woody and Amber.
“Poppy!” She stops just before the door, refusing look at me. “This is Fleur’s life, too. She should have a say in it.”
It takes all Poppy’s weight to pull the release lever. She nearly trips on the threshold in her hurry to go. Chill starts to follow.
“Let her go,” I tell him. Poppy isn’t going to budge. She’s in denial. She’s too afraid. Somehow, I’ll have to get through to Fleur alone.
14
As the Crow Flies
JACK
“You’re early, Jack.” Amber pushes past me with a gentle shove. I rub the burning sensation she leaves on my solar plexus, wrinkling my nose against the sickly sweet fetor of death and the pumpkin spice Frap dangling in a Starbucks cup from her hand. She adjusts her backpack on her shoulder and smooths down her hair. “Too early. It isn’t even Thanksgiving break yet.”
She maneuvers through the crowded hall, through animated conversations about exams and parties and a soccer game that happened over the weekend, as I struggle to keep up. It’s all so mundane, familiar in a far-off way that makes me irritable and nostalgic all at the same time. I don’t know how Amber stands it. I can’t imagine choosing to spend my only free three months each year pretending to be a high school student. A teacher walks by, shielding his full coffee mug from the throng of oncoming traffic. He slows, frowning as he passes, as if he’s trying toplace me. I slide in behind Amber, letting myself be carried along by the rush of students on their way to class.
I lean over her shoulder. “Did you talk to Julio?”
She takes a slow sip of her Frap. Shrugs. “I managed to get a few words in.”
Someone jostles me from behind, knocking me into her back. “Can we go somewhere we can talk about it?”
“I’ll be late for class. Come back in a week.” My temperature plummets. Nobody’s making Amber go to class. She won’t even be here long enough to finish out her semester, and we have far more important things to worry about. Amber shivers. She glares at me over her shoulder. “Back off, Jack. You’re freezing. And your eyes are doing that creepy Winter thing.”
I grab Amber by the shirtsleeve and drag her into an open janitor’s closet, kicking the door shut when we’re both inside. She swears when I accidentally brush her skin as I grope blindly for a light switch in the dark.
A spark snaps to life in her hand, the wavering flame casting shadows over her scowling face. She aims a pointed glance at her knee between my legs.
“Come on, Amber. This is important.” A pull string hangs close to the flame and I jerk it hard. The closet floods with harsh white light. “What did Verano say?”
She snuffs out the fire and sinks back against the wall, shoving a mop bucket out of her way with her foot. “I tried, okay? He was at some party when I found him. I chased him a mile down the boardwalk before he finally stopped to listen. He refused to mute his transmitter, and Marie wouldn’t give us two seconds alone.”
