The woman takes the phone from his hands and he looks up for the first time, actually realizing I’m in the room. Behind the glasses I notice a glaze to his expression, but when he spots me there’s the slightest flicker of interest. I slink away, pretending I’m extra focused on the mammoth.
“You know the rule about devices.”
“I know the rules are bullshit,” he mutters. Two of the boys howl with laughter. The one that saved me from the old lady just scowls.
“Come on, or we won’t make it back before dark.”
She rallies them and they finally leave the room. I don’t see them go, I just sense it. The bell rings as they exit, their heavy footsteps on the wooden floor. Once they’re gone I exhale, feeling overwhelmed from the whole encounter.
“Starlee?” my mom calls, feet moving quickly.
“Back here,” I say quietly, meeting her near the front.
“Are you?” She looks toward the door. “I saw that group and I didn’t know…I should have come in with you. I went to the general store and got a drink and some candy. Then I found these amazing postcards…”
“Seriously Mom, I’m fine.”
“Good.” She gives me a weak smile and glances over my shoulder. “Did you see the bones?”
“I did.”
“Well, are you ready?”
I nodded.
“Don’t forget to sign the book,” the old lady reminds me.
“Oh, right.”
I walk over to the table and my mother fumbles for some cash to shove in the little box. The book is open and there’s a string of names from the top. I add my own, Starlee Nye Jones, but can’t help but notice the names above mine.
In different penmanship, I read the four:
Dexter Falco
George Evans
Charlie Evans
Jake Hollingsworth
I study their names, wondering who’s who. Obviously, Jake is the football player and obviously his name is Jake. Typical All-American name for an All-American boy. The woman that came to get them called one Charlie, I think the one with the glasses and the cell phone. So that left two. George and Dexter. One was the boy with the angry face. The other with the questions and quick moving hands.
I can’t stop thinking about how close they’d been. How we’d functioned in the same space, breathing the same air and I’m okay.
I’m okay, despite the slight tremble in my hands and the fact I almost forgot to breathe.
“Are you alright?” Mom asks as we exit the store, the hot air slamming into us. “I thought you’d wait in the car but—”
“I’m fine,” I reply, scanning the street. The SUV parked in front of the little café is pulling out, the woman in the driver’s seat. The dark-haired boy with angry gray eyes stares at me through the window, eyes locking with mine as they pick up speed.
Mom wraps around my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she says again. “I had no idea anyone else was even in this little town. Much less a pack of teenage boys.”
“I’m fine.” I even give her a small smile of assurance, even though my heart rate is just beginning to slow. “Really.”
I doubt she believes me though, and I feel the hum of nerves rolling off her as we head back in to the isolated desert. Those nerves are why I’m moving in with my grandmother—to give us both a chance for a little break, a fresh start in a new place for me and respite for my mother.
Because things aren’t working for us now and if we don’t do something, even if it’s something I don’t want to do, I don’t think our relationship will survive.