Chapter 5

It had been almost a week since that day behind the stage. She'd seen Eddie long enough this morning to know his band was playing tonight. And Jo was going to see them play.

Somehow.

Get caught, and you're fucked. Both of you. He'll never want to see you again. And you'll wind up hiding the bruises and lying about how you got them, just like Mom did for so long–

The bell rang. Jo scooped up her books and slid her backpack over one shoulder, her mind racing. She'd never been in a place like the Hideout. Where even was it? And how on Earth would she get there? Her dad had a function to go to tonight, some stupid thing about the first semester sports, and she would be stuck in the assembly right in front of him. What if he looked for her in the stands between speakers patting themselves on the back and she wasn't there?

"Could you get a cab, maybe?"

A cigarette bounced on Eddie's lip as he dug through his bag for his lighter. Jo had met him at their spot behind the stage at the start of free period. She'd found him there every day for a week. What class was he missing?

Jo shook her head. "No money. Besides, Dad'll have his eye on me for the entire program. If I leave, he'll know, and if I'm not back in five minutes, he'll come looking for me, and if he does that–"

She cut herself off.

"Do you have to be in the gym? Would he let you stay home if you faked being sick or something?"

"Tried that before. He'll shove a thermometer in my mouth, see I don't have a fever, and tell me to toughen up."

Eddie grimaced as he blew out a stream of smoke. The waning afternoon light had turned his brown eyes golden, like there was fire in him, and he could breathe it.

"So much for that idea."

Jo sighed. "I do not want to spend my birthday in a stinky gym with a bunch of hose-headed dickbrains who think they rule the fucking world because they play football or basketball or whatever the hell else there is."

Eddie took another drag of his cigarette and scoffed. "Scumbags."

"They think they're freaking dying when they lose. Football got their asses handed to them by Christian in the season opener. I had to be there for it."

"Wonder they haven't all dropped dead yet then, 'cause surprise sweetheart, they lose every one."

Jo laughed. "I'd be a free woman!" She took a deep breath and burst out laughing again. "And then I could go wherever the hell I wanted! Do whatever I wanted!" Her voice trailed off, her finger tracing invisible nervous shapes in the concrete. "Be with whoever I wanted to be with and not be afraid, no have to hide it."

Eddie put his arm around her, pulling her to his shoulder, and she leaned into him.

"I'm going to that damn concert. There's gotta be a way."

They sat in silence for a bit. The wind scattered now falling leaves across the parking lot; they scraped the pavement as they went by. The sun warmed her entire body. And the weight around her shoulders had slowed her always hammering heart.

Jo's eyes had started drooping shut when Eddie shuffled.

"Hm."

Jo looked up at him. "What?"

A smirk slid across Eddie's face. "I think I have an idea, sweetheart."

"Can I stay in your office tonight?"

She'd been working up the courage to speak for at least half an hour. Letting the words out was like ripping off a bandaid.

Her dad eyed her with disdain. She stood in front of his desk in his disorganized office, feeling like she was sitting in front of the Judgment Seat he loved to loudly remind her of from time to time.

"I…I have a lot of homework." She pulled out the graph paper from her trigonometry book, set up and numbered like her teacher instructed them to do to work problems. Except these problems didn't exist.

Maybe everyone thought he was stupid–her father included–but Eddie was sharp.

"And?"

"I've got to read for history, too. And English."

She showed him both syllabi and handed him her trig papers. She did indeed have reading assigned for tonight, reading she wasn't going to do.

"It's like fifty pages. Long chapters, tiny font." Also true. She dug in her backpack for her history book and her copy of War and Peace. "Look."

Her dad cracked open the books, scanned over the trig papers, a deep frown etching into his face.

"It's gonna take me hours. And if I don't do it my grades will tank. And then my chances at NYU or Stanford or Duke go out the window–"

"Fine, Josephine. Fine."

Jo froze, watching her father and hardly daring to breathe. Had he just said what she thought he had?

"You can stay here. But you better be working the entire time. And if you don't get A's on all of these assignments, I swear to God, Jo, I will–"

"Make me wish I had? I understand."

"God," he grumbled, standing up from his desk and stalking for the door. "You're such a bitch, Jo, talking back like that after I gave you what you wanted."

Jo's cheeks flushed with embarrassment… and burned with anger.

"Sit," he snapped, reaching for the door handle. "And get it done."

He stepped through the door. It clicked shut. Though Jo didn't move a muscle until the sound of his footsteps vanished down the hallway, and she waited several more minutes still, just to be safe.

Silence.

The coast was clear.

Now she could do what she came for.

She started pulling drawers open. "If I was a pack of dollar bills, where would I be?" He had to be keeping his lunch money somewhere. It was about to be cab money, if she could find it.

She tore through every drawer in the desk twice, three times. Not a penny. He must have left it at home, or it was in his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. Shit. Shit shit shit.

Defeated, she closed the last drawer and dragged out her history text, her head sinking into the palm of her hand as she started to read.

The clock ticked monotonously on the wall. Every now and then, a miced voice or cheers floated down the hallway.

She had just finished reading about the assassination of Prince Ferdinand when it hit her. She sprang up out of the chair and was nearly to the door when she stopped dead.

If he came back and she wasn't there…

No.

He didn't get to take this from her.

Her heart slamming in her chest, she slipped out of the office and into the hallway, slinking to the front doors. And it was as she'd hoped. Many of the kids in the program had ridden their bikes from home to school that morning… and it was a small town. These people trusted each other so much that she doubted any of them even knew what a bike lock was.

Her hands shaking, she grabbed one of the bikes from the rack, her head on a swivel, and swung a leg over. She started pedaling, heading for the road. A smile split her face.

Her mind wandered back to that afternoon as she neared the street and stopped:

Where even is this place, Eddie?

It's sitting between the old steelworks and a bigass cornfield, Jo. Down Main, through town and out of it. It's a straight shot from here, believe it or not…

She looked both ways. Nothing was coming.

She turned, a grin splitting her face.

She was going to see Eddie.

Her father didn't get to take him from her.