Rhythm & Clues: A Young Adult Novel (8 page)

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, about what my parents said in there, the girlfriend thing. It was just easier—”

“Don’t worry about it.” I waved my hand dismissively at him even though my throat tightened. I wished he’d used
best friend
. Or even
accomplice
. I punched him playfully in the arm to send my telepathic message.

His eyes seemed to light up.

I didn’t want to send the wrong signal. I couldn’t lose his friendship if it went sour, if he found out about Krystal, my father, my heart condition. “I understand why you said that. But your parents probably hate me now anyway, so it’s safe to tell them I’m just your friend, right?”

“Oh.” He took a deep breath then nodded. “Right.” Clarity appeared on his face as he got the picture. Rejected without ever asking the question. But I couldn’t ever let that question escape from his lips. I needed this to stay the way it was: a facade. Like the warehouse he snuck out to. Like the band we pretended we were forming. All of them were fronts, hiding reality beneath the surface. I needed our friendship to stay the same way, because without it, I had nothing.

Present Day

E
n route to Dante’s Ristorante, my car decides it won’t go above thirty-mph. It sputters and growls at me when the speedometer inches toward thirty-one. Drivers flip me off as they illegally pass me. My pulse amps in a way the speedometer won’t, but Sabrina ignores the string of one-fingered salutes and stares straight ahead until we pull up in front of Dante’s.

Inside the restaurant, the hostess stands behind a podium, twirling her auburn hair and staring out into space. Her crooked name-tag reads “EMILY.”

She doesn’t look up when we approach so I clear my throat. “Can we have a table?” Gavin may have hidden the next clue somewhere on the table we sat at during dinner.

Emily’s pupils move up and down over the two of us. “No,” she deadpans.

What was this, a Hollywood A-list event? “Excuse me?”

Sabrina smiles brightly at the hostess. “Please. It’s important that we get that center table.” She points, batting her eyelashes. “That one right there.”

A group of men all in different shades of gray suits study menus at the very table we want.

“That’s a table for six.” Emily inspects her nails. “And it’s taken.”

Sabrina turns up her charm with a giggle. “We know, but—”

“We’ll give you twenty bucks for it.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the envelope Josephine Tully gave me the last time I saw Gavin. Hush money. It feels heavy and dirty in my fingers. I shouldn’t have taken it, but now I’m glad I did.

The hostess laughs. “First Mondays of the month are rented out for the Milford Brook Businessman’s Association. Only restaurant in town with nice silverware.” She takes the twenty out of my hand and examines it in the light, trying to draw attention to our bribe. “Tell you what. I’ll give you the first table for two when the meeting ends.”

“What if we find other people to sit with? Then can we have that table for six?” Sabrina asks.

The hostess shrugs. “When they’re finished.” She nods toward the table of businessmen.

I push Sabrina into a corner, away from eavesdroppers. “We don’t even know if we have time to wait. Come on, Sabrina. You’re a master at tricking people. Use your skills.” I mean it to come off as a joke, but Sabrina’s scoff clues me in that my delivery lacks comic finesse.

“Oh, right. I’m the master of tricking people?” She crosses her arms. “Are you forgetting the months you spent stringing my brother along, knowing he had feelings for you?”

Her words are an icepick stabbed through my gut. I don’t want to admit that he strung me along too. From the tone of her voice, I know no explanation would ever suffice and because of that, Sabrina will never understand where I’m coming from. Will never get me. There are things I could tell her—like how we’d kissed and then Gavin told me afterward that he didn’t want to start something up with me—that would make her suck back her words, but the truth is, I just don’t trust her.

“Yes, clearly I’m the enemy here,” I say in a cutting tone, hoping the venom covers the hurt I feel. “You did the right thing trying to get him away from me.” I roll my eyes at her. “Ever think that maybe your big mouth is what made Gavin run away? Because you ruined his one chance at following his dream by tattling on our band.”

I hate myself for saying it. I know it’s not true. Because I can’t help but feel responsible myself. If I hadn’t pushed him so hard to rebel…if I hadn’t made-out with him and confused him even more…if I hadn’t given him reason to cut the strings that attached him to Milford.

She glares at me for a moment, but then her face softens. “Fine. Let’s try to be somewhat civil until we rescue my brother.” She uses her charming smile on me. Still doesn’t work. “Then we can go back to hating each other.”

I cross my arms and nod, my acceptance of the deal confirmed in my silence. Who would have expected Sabrina would take the mature fork in the road? But she’s right. Gavin’s safety is more important than anything else.

I nod toward the restaurant. “I found the last clue. You do this one, if you love your brother as much as I—” I clamp my mouth shut, then recover with, “As I think you do.”

Sabrina scrutinizes my face for a moment before she gives up and marches back inside.

I follow close behind her. She continues right past the hostess stand and walks up to the table of the six businessmen. Their attention diverts from the man with glasses talking with his hands, his back to Sabrina.

Sabrina clasps her hands in front of her and leans into the table. “I know the last thing you want me to talk about is business.”

The men all laugh in unison, probably mistaking her for the waitress.

“But I’m curious if any of you have seen a post-it note on the table?” She pushes back her wavy brown hair with one hand while she places the other on the shoulder of the man with gray hair and glasses. “Maybe under it?”

Like a synchronized swimming performance, all six men duck their heads under the table. One by one they pop up, shaking their heads. Sabrina’s face falls, and she retreats back to me with her head down.

“Maybe the clues aren’t so literal,” she says. “We could be reading them wrong.”

I turn away from her and stare at the tables, trying to figure out where Gavin would hide the clue instead. One of the business men moves his briefcase out of the way, revealing an oval leg stand at the table. I distinctly remember banging my knee on the sharp corner of the square leg.

I gasp. The tables must be in different locations. I tap on the podium. Emily doesn’t look up when she says, “Still a thirty minute wait.”

“Do you stack your tables at night?”

She holds out her hand, palm up. I groan and retrieve another twenty from my envelope.

“Not at night.” Emily stuffs it into her pocket. “But we did clear the floor for a Sweet Sixteen party yesterday.”

Sabrina and I shuffle away from Emily.

“You take that half of the room. I’ll take this one.” Sabrina gestures with her arm the imaginary divider.

“But, I’m not good at the charm stuff. How do I—”

She moves past me and introduces herself to the next table, talking to them with her cutesy voice and irresistible smile.

I sigh and then move forward to the closest six-person table. Women in elegant funeral-colored suits sip from water glasses, lipstick smearing the rims.

I stand in front of them for a few seconds, waiting for them to notice me. I clear my throat. Nothing. “Um, hi,” I say.

“We’re fine, thanks.” The closest woman smiles at me.

“Oh, I don’t work here.”

I glance over my shoulder. Sabrina works half the room while I manage to say two sentences.

“Can I help you then?” one of the women asks, irritated.

“Could you…look under your table for me?” I take a baby step closer to her.

The women exchange confused glances.

“There might be a post-it note.” I wish I could copy Sabrina’s charm. It sounds dry when I say it.

The woman squints at me. “What? I don’t understand.”

Before I can get out a few more cryptic suggestions that make me look psycho, Sabrina swoops in, grabs me by the elbow, and leads me into the bathroom.

She waves an envelope in front of me. “It was under a different table.”

My body thrums as I grab it from her. No writing on the outside. I run my finger under the rim of the sealed envelope.

Inside, a post-it note holds a date: MAY 19, 1994.

“Any significance?” I ask.

She stares up at the ceiling as if trying to recall something. “I just did the math. I think my dad was a senior at Lockhart in 1994.”

“And the May nineteenth part?”

She shrugs. “My parents did get engaged while they were still in high school. Maybe that’s the date it happened on.”

Why am I not surprised her parents got engaged so young? But at least this goes a step toward proving my suspicion that Gavin ran away because of his parents. Though I don’t see how a proposal relates. “We’ll file that info away for later. Let’s go.” We leave out a side entrance adjacent to the bathroom. This way we don’t have to face Emily again.

“What’s next?” Sabrina asks as we head to the car.

“Pressed leaf.”

She stops short, eyes fixed on the parking lot. “That’s not the same Ford Focus from the warehouse, is it?” She points to a silver car parked only a few spaces away from mine.

My heart beats fast in my ears. “Oh God. They have the clues and know where they lead.”

Sabrina races toward my car, but I head for the Ford Focus. Sure enough, I spot the box of clues sitting on the backseat. Without thinking, I yank the door handle. The car erupts in an alarm that bleats against my skull, but the door won’t budge. It’s locked.

“What are you doing?” Sabrina screams, her face contorted in terror.

“Let’s confront this person. Get the info we need.” I cross my arms for emphasis.

Sabrina marches over to me. “Moxie, no,” she shouts over the car alarm. “Gavin’s afraid for his life. What if this guy is dangerous? What if we walk into a trap? We can’t help Gavin if we’re captured too.”

Blood drains from my face at her words. I abandon the Ford Focus and get inside my car.

Sabrina straps herself in. “Don’t go to the next clue.”

“What are you crazy? This person knows! We have to get the clues as fast as possible.”

She shakes her head. “Maybe they followed us without realizing it. Moxie, your car is going ridiculously slow. They might have taken side streets or something. Let’s try to lose them.”

“And how should I do that?” I turn right out of the parking lot anyway, heading toward the park.

“We’ll go to my house. See if the silver car follows. If it does, then drop me off and you go get the rest of the clues and save Gavin.” Her voice is somber, yet determined.

“And what about your parents?” I shake my head. “Sabrina, that’s a bad plan.”

“They’re not home.”

I roll my eyes.

“No, I swear. My mom got a job at the church preschool. She’ll be there until three. And my dad has his construction gig across town.”

I cluck my tongue. “And yet you didn’t mention this earlier.”

“Why would I? You said we should get the clues before going to my house.”

“Sabrina, I promised to be nice, but I still don’t trust you.”

“I believe you now.” Her voice is soft, her eyes sympathetic. “Gavin’s in trouble. Someone’s following us. I know you think M+D refers to my parents, but maybe it refers to the person following us. I think the only way to save my brother is to evade this car. So let’s just go, okay?”

I switch my blinker to the left on the off chance she’s right.

We drive most of the way in silence, my car puttering along at the speed of a golf cart. Cars crowd the streets, probably a lot of the high school students going out for lunch. I check my rear-view mirror every few seconds, but there are no silver cars as far as I can see. A low breath leaks from my lungs.

When we’re a few blocks away, one of the cars behind me turns off the road and the others move closer. Then I see it. The silver Ford Focus changes lanes, separated from us by several cars.