Piper darts a look between us, obviously in a no-win situation.
“You’re making that walk alone,” I tell Willow again. “And I’d suggest you all leave before I give Officer Wilde a call about loitering truant teens.”
Xavier’s made a name for himself in town as a hard-ass. Those close to him know he’s more bluster than bully, but there’s no hiding his by-the-book sharp edges. Often, all he has to do is show up for trouble to end. As expected, mentioning his name is enough to have all the kids shoving off the wall and walking away.
Piper hands her vaping pen to Willow, but doesn’t follow. As soon as the others are out of earshot, Piper turns those big brown eyes on me. “You’re not going to tell Uncle Z, are you?”
“That’s a lousy position to put me in.”
“If I’d known you were here, I would have gone somewhere else.”
“You’re missing the point. You shouldn’t be anywhere other than school. You’re smarter than this. Better than this.”
She turns a little surly. “You don’t know how hard it is to fit in somewhere new.”
“The hell I don’t. Don’t presume to know what happened in someone’s past based on how they appear to you in the present.”
Piper presses her lips together and looks at the ground. “Sorry.”
She follows me to my car and slides into the passenger’s seat. Once I’m behind the wheel, I look at her before starting the car. “What kills me is that you have so much—a mother who loves you, a nice home, intelligence, beauty, sweetness, a shit-ton of material possessions, not to mention an uncle who gave up his job and his home to move here just to be with you. Yet all you can focus on is what you don’t have.”
She’s staring at the floorboard. “My mother is more interested in her boyfriends than me. And I didn’t ask Uncle Z to move.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate the sacrifice he’s made for you. Honor that sacrifice by staying on the right path. It’s not exactly difficult. All you have to do is stop the stupid stuff, like hanging with trouble. You’ve got the brains for a scholarship, Piper. You’ll be sorry if you piss that away.”
She doesn’t respond, so I start the car and head toward the high school. I’m thinking about all the things KT now worries about with Ben’s three daughters—teachers, grades, tutors, friends, health, happiness. And some things KT doesn’t have to worry about yet—kids having sex, girls getting pregnant, venereal disease, police records, and college.
Despite what Piper thinks, I do understand how she’s hurting. I also know lecturing her is the perfect way to get her to shut down.
“Just so you know,” I tell Piper, “you can’t smoke and expect Z not to smell it. Even if you wash your clothes, he’ll pick up on that scent.”
“Nuh-uh. It’s not tobacco. The smoke is lighter and smells different.”
I take a deep breath through my nose, collecting the bizarre chemical, fruity scent of the vape flavor. “Frozen lime drop?”
Her shoulders drop. “Oh, shit.”
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at her shock, but sober as I give Piper some advice. “Not only does Z know what teens are into, he’s got a nose like a bloodhound. If you think you’re going to get much past him, you’re being naïve. And I was into enough trouble as a kid to know right where you’re headed if you don’t change your choices.”
She’s skeptical. “What were you into?”
“All of it. Drinking, drugs, sex. I barely graduated. Wouldn’t have graduated by today’s standards. So when I give you advice, it’s from experience.”
I pull up to the high school and stop.
She looks at the school, then me. “I don’t suppose you’d write me a note.”
“It sounds like you’re asking me to forge your mother’s signature.” I reach out and move a strand of hair back into alignment and soften my voice. “Here you may only get detention for that, but in real life, you’d go to jail.”
“You care about me more than my mom does.”
“I know it may seem like that to you right now, but based on every mother I’ve ever known, I’m reasonably sure that’s not true. Your mom’s suffering too. She lost her husband, and now she’s raising you alone. You won’t be able to understand how hard that is on a person until you’re older. One of the first lessons I learned as a kid is that every choice has a consequence. Some are good, some are bad, but they’re all within your power to choose.”
Her sadness is palpable. I reach over, take her chin gently, and turn her gaze toward me again. “Piper, you are loved. So, so loved. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“Why aren’t you and Uncle Z dating?”
Ugh. I lower my hand but hold her gaze. “I had a bad breakup a while back, and I’m learning to be happy and fulfilled on my own. I don’t feel ready to date yet.”