None of the Regular Rules (15 page)

He
repeated
, “Yeah,” and started to get up. We both laughed.

“Thanks.” I reached out to touch his shoulder. He stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. My whole body relaxed, and I let myself close my eyes and sink into the moment.

“I’m glad I know about the list,” he muttered. The way his hair tickled my cheek sent shivers down my neck. His breath was warm in my ear, and his body felt solid against mine. I loved the way his fingertips just barely touched my lower back as he unwrapped his arms from me and stepped out of our hug. “I know you think it’s because of your aunt that you’re doing all of this stuff…but I bet you would have done a lot of it anyway.” He smiled at me. “Eventually.”

“Yeah, maybe so.” I pulled down my face
mask. “We should go.”

“Get ready to run for it,” Johnny said, smiling. He pulled his own hat out of his back pocket and pulled it over his hair.

“I bet you wish you had a face
mask,” I teased.

“I bet not.” He clapped his hands. “As soon as we get outside, we’ve gotta move.”

He turned off the projector. Then, with only a tiny moment of hesitation, he took my hand and led me to the front door. His hand was warm, and having it wrapped around mine made me feel safe and protected.

As soon as we pushed through the front door, the alarm sounded. We ran. Johnny and I flew down the front steps and across the parking lot, to where our sad escape vehicle was waiting in the shadows. I could see Ella and Grace standing beside the lawn mower—they were smart enough to jump into the wagon just as Johnny and I ran up. He hit the gas and I wrapped my arms around him. Then, at what felt like a snail’s pace, we puttered off toward home.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

If we’d had my car, the getaway might have gone off without a hitch. As it was, attempting to escape a crime on a riding lawn mower that couldn’t be pushed to go faster than fifteen miles an hour wasn’t our best idea.

When we were about halfway back to Grace’s house, we heard the sirens. They were faint at first, but grew louder as we got closer to our destination. I looked back and saw that Grace and Ella were both freaked out in the wagon. “Stop the mower,” I told Johnny. He shook his head, refusing, and I grabbed his arm when I said, “Seriously. You’ve got to stop for a second.”

“If I stop, you’re going to get caught. Let me get you guys home.”

“We’re not going to make it,” I said. “Please, stop.”

He did. I looked back at my best friends, who were total innocents in this whole scheme. I wasn’t going to let them get caught for something I’d forced them to do. They would never forgive me, and I would never forgive myself. “Get out,” I said. “Run through backyards to get back to Grace’s. We’re pretty close now.”

“We’re not ditching you,” Ella said. Grace bit her lip, and I could tell she was tempted.

“There’s no reason for us all to get in trouble,” I said hurriedly. “If you don’t get out of that wagon, I’m unhitching it and leaving it here in the middle of the street, which is going to look even weirder when the cops show up. Now, go! I’d really like to get moving again soon—it would be nice if
none
of us got caught. I don’t want to be the next Robbie Prescott with his Cadbury Egg. I’ll call you later—leave my car keys on the front tire if you can, okay?”

Grace and Ella glanced at each other for the tiniest moment, then bailed. They didn’t say anything else as they ran away from us and into the nearest backyard that would lead them toward home. “You should go, too,” I told Johnny. “I don’t want you to get arrested.”

“First,” Johnny said with a smirk. “We’re not going to get arrested. Second, I’m not ditching you to take the fall. This is fun for me.” He gunned the mower and drove down the hill toward his—and my—house. “Time to take the mower home.”

As soon as I saw the lake up ahead, I knew we were safe. Only then did I think through the logistics. I couldn’t go home. My car was at Grace’s, my parents thought I was sleeping there, and I had no keys. I was stuck, floating around like a delinquent for the rest of the night.

“Now what?” Johnny asked, reading my mind, as we pulled the mower into his detached garage. “What’s next on our list?”

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. We’re on a winning streak. Let’s keep going.”

I shook my head. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Oh, well, there you go,” Johnny teased. “Clearly, the rules of the world say everyone should be asleep by now.”

“You promised me you wouldn’t tease.”

“I most certainly didn’t promise not to tease,” he said. “I promised not to judge you.” He cocked his head to the side and put one foot up on the seat of the lawn mower. “Here’s how I see it—you may see things differently, since you’re you, but this is my take on the situation we have on our hands. Your friends are probably pretty pissed at you right now, so it’s maybe not the best idea to go back to Grace’s tonight and wake her dad up a second time to sneak you back in. You’re locked out of your car, so you can’t wait out the night dozing on the front seat. And your parents are going to be mighty suspicious if you ring the doorbell at two in the morning. I have nothing to get up for in the morning, enjoy a challenge, and think it’s fun to watch you get all sketched out when you’re doing things out of your comfort zone.” He lifted his eyebrows, then reached forward and tugged my hat off my head. “I’m a little creeped out by the eyeholes in this hat, though, so can we ditch the circa-
nineteen-seventies
bank
-
robber look for the rest of the night?”

I laughed. “I can handle that.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “How are we going to get around?” I asked. “I’m over the lawn mower. How is it that your parents never hear this thing when you pull it out of the garage, anyway? It’s louder than my car.”

“They’ve learned to not listen,” Johnny said with a shrug. “It’s easier to ignore me if they pretend they don’t know I’m getting into trouble. Also, my dad has a hearing aid that he turns way down after dinner so he doesn’t have to listen to my mom’s nagging.
And she wears earplugs to block out his snoring. It’s a win-win for everyone.
”

“Right,” I said.

“Want to borrow my motorcycle?” Johnny offered.

“You have a motorcycle?”

“Well, I use the term ‘mine’ loosely. It’s my dad’s. He’s good at sharing, especially when he doesn’t know he’s sharing.”

I’d been warned away from motorcycles my whole life. But “borrowing” Johnny’s dad’s motorcycle would let me check off
n
umber
t
welve on the list. “Do you have a helmet?” I asked meekly.

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not stupid,” he said with a silly smile. “Also, I like what helmets do for my hair. ”

***

Twenty minutes later, we had settled into one of the back booths at Perkins—the only place open at that hour. The motorcycle ride had been fast and fun, but a lot less scary and dangerous
seeming than I’d always been led to believe it would be. Not surprising.

“So when your aunt fell,” Johnny said after we’d ordered coffee and pancakes. He was timidly stepping back into our conversation from earlier in the night. “Does anyone know how exactly it happened?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

He dumped his third creamer into his coffee and went for a fourth. After a long pause, he said, “I remember that night.” He stared at the swirled glass panels that separated our booth from the one behind it. “My mom’s an ER nurse,” he explained. “Every once in a while, she’ll bring home stories from work. The ones that really stick with her. My sisters were probably about twelve or thirteen at the time, and I remember her clinging to them for days after the accident.”

“Yeah,” I said. My own mom had done the same thing. She was still doing it, in fact, clinging to me and holding me back—trying to wrap her arms around me and keep me from climbing too far away from her lest I fall.

Johnny stirred his coffee, then ripped four sugars open all at once and dumped them into his now-beige coffee. “I feel like I remember my mom talking about how they said the girl—Suzy—had been up there alone,” he said. It was strange hearing him talk about the accident. No one had ever really discussed that night with me, not since it had happened. It was comforting, somehow, hearing Johnny talk about it and knowing there wouldn’t be a lesson or a disappointed shake of the head at the end of the conversation. “I remember how sad it made me, thinking about this girl being alone in the moment before she died.”

I swallowed, and thought back to the conversations I’d had with my parents after Suzy had died. I dug up what I could remember from those foggy weeks after it happened. I’d never really thought through the logistics of that night—I hadn’t ever asked about the specifics. The bottom line was that she’d died, and that sort of overshadowed everything else. I’d never asked anyone why she didn’t have anyone with her, or found out why that was. Johnny was right; it was even more depressing that she was alone.

I took a sip of my black coffee and understood why Johnny had doctored his up the way he had. It tasted like tar. Johnny relaxed back into his side of the booth, letting me slip quietly into my own thoughts for a few minutes. Once again, I wondered how much I really knew about my aunt’s life—and now I had more questions about her death, too. Where were her friends on the night she’d died? Finally, to distract myself from wondering anything more, I asked, “So what’s the deal with school?”

“There is no deal.” He shifted in his seat and grinned at me. “Do you believe that?”

“Not really,” I said. “No, actually, I definitely don’t.”

Johnny sighed and took a sip of his coffee. “God, this stuff is brutal. They should pay us to drink it.”

“We can always dine and dash,” I suggested. “Number thirteen on my list.”

“Really?” Johnny looked intrigued. “Dine and dash? That was one of Suzy’s goals?”

“Yup. So was climbing to the top of the water tower.” I looked at him evenly. “The last thing on the list is eating dessert on top of the water tower. All I can assume is she died trying to do that one.”

“Shit,” Johnny said. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.” I shrugged, acting more laissez-faire than I felt. “It sucks.”

He watched me for a minute, then said, “At least that one thing didn’t scare you away from the rest of the stuff on the list. It says something that you’re moving forward, despite what happened.”

“I’m trying not to let it get me down,” I said quietly. “But it’s tough. Even still, I’ll finish the list for her. For me. I have to. Eventually.”

“What else is on this list?” Johnny asked. “Do you have it with you?” He held up his hand. “Wait—I know you have it with you. You’re exactly the kind of person who would carry that list around with you, checking things off as you finish them. Am I right?” He looked extremely smug, and I couldn’t keep myself from laughing.

“It’s in my back pocket,” I confessed. “Always.”

“How good am I?”
h
e bragged. “Lemme see it.”

I pulled it out and laid it on the table. He studied it for a few minutes, then said, “
Ah
, so this is what inspired the hair! I get it now.”

“I would have done it anyway,” I grumbled.

“I bet you would have,” Johnny said. He looked at the list, then looked up at me. “So who’s
the
X
you’re going to kiss
?”

It was impossible to not want to read into his question. Especially when he put his feet up on the booth on either side of me. “Are you asking because you’re jealous?” I asked, without thinking. Clearly, the late night was making me a little more bold than usual.

Johnny laughed. He blinked slowly, then said, “Maybe.”

Neither of us said anything for a beat. I just looked at him, looking at me. What was this thing that was happening between us? He had a girlfriend—a
college
girlfriend—and I was clearly delusional. Unless I wasn’t. “Johnny, I…” I started.

He looked at me expectantly. As always, I was completely at ease, even in a completely awkward situation.

“Johnny, what’s going on with Mackenzie?” I asked finally. “And we never did finish talking about what happened with school.”

“My parents happened,” he said, breaking my gaze for the fi
rst time in more than a minute.

“I don’t get that,” I said, reaching across
the table to get his attention.
I rapped on the Formica surface to make him look at me. “Johnny. You’re not a pushover—so why did you let them tell you your school choice wasn’t valid?” My hand was still sitting in the middle of the table. Johnny’s was just inches away, wrapped around his cup. For a moment, I wondered what might happen if I just reached a few inches further and put my hand inside his. Would he pull away? Wouldn’t I want him to? The answer to both questions, I knew, was probably no.

And that was the problem.

“Money’s tight,” he said eventually, with a shrug. His hand stayed where it was, and mine just sat on the table, longing for his. “My dad lost his job about a year ago. We were fighting about school already, and then when Dad got laid off, it was sort of hard for me to be a spoiled brat about it. I’d been expecting them to pay for everything. But they told me it was only worth their money if I went somewhere real. They were willing to take out loans, they said, but only if I proved that I really wanted to make something of myself.” He smiled, but his eyes looked sad. “You can only make something of yourself in the Ivy Leagu
e
—did you know that? That’s something important I learned from my family.” He shrugged. “Show
-
off schools don’t interest me. They told me I was a waste of their money at Madison.”

“They said that?” I asked, disgusted.

“Basically, yeah.” He shrugged. “I’m sort of used to not measuring up at home.”

I didn’t expect this. Johnny was always so self-assured and confident. It surprised me to hear that his parents didn’t give him enough credit. Yet he never complained or got beaten down about it. I really admired that. “So what are you going to do?”

“Well…” He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and took a sip. He cringed as he swallowed. “At first, I was depressed as hell. I figured I could just live at home for a while, mooch off my parents and show them they’re way worse off with me hanging around as a full-fledged adult.”

“That doesn’t sound like you…” I said. “You’re not really a sulk
-
and
-
do
-
nothing kind of guy. At least, you don’t seem like it to me. Are you?”