Escape Theory - By Margaux Froley Page 0,58

the expected smirk, without the usual French exclamation, Cleo folded the paper and put it in her pocket. For a second, she looked completely unaffected. “See you next week.”

“RIGHT ONE’S YOURS.”

Devon caught the right speaker just as it tumbled off the dashboard. Raven’s Volvo sped down the Keaton hill, taking the curves above the recommend speed limit.

“Got it,” Devon yelled over the music. She wedged her speaker back into its place on the dashboard, and wiped off the layer of sand already sticking to her palm. “Thanks for the ride. I was dying to get off campus today.”

Raven adjusted the speaker on her side threatening to slide out of position. Her black hair swirled in all directions as the wind whipped through the car. “No problem. Waiting for the van must suck.”

“No kidding.” Devon leaned her head against her seat and let the wind dance over her. Outside the pine trees fluttered in the breeze, making the green needles flicker and flash different sun-drenched shades of green. She could smell the dust from the road and the comforting smell of the pine.

“I gotta make a quick stop first, hope that’s okay. Reed’s computer is acting up and I’m his personal geek squad it seems.” Raven looked both ways at the end of the Keaton road and took a left, away from Monte Vista.

“No problem. I’m just enjoying the ride.” Devon closed her eyes again. It was true: She was happy to be moving, period, to feel the engine revving under her seat, to be away from school. The car twisted and turned, kicking up dust and spitting gravel out behind it. After what seemed like a very short time later, it lurched to a stop.

“Be right back.” Raven hopped out and slammed the door behind her. Devon finally opened her eyes and saw the ranch house at Reed Hutchins’s vineyard Raven had taken her to before. But this time, a rusted black Rover was parked in the circular driveway in front of the Volvo. Devon recognized it instantly: The car Hutch had been unpacking the last day she had seen him.

Raven disappeared inside the house.

Without thinking, Devon got out of the car and approached the Rover. The front window was open and the door was unlocked. Devon opened it and sat in the driver seat. She ran her hand across the cracked leather steering wheel. Hutch had driven this car to school. Somehow it had gotten back to his grandfather’s house. She’d ask Raven about that part. The floor and seats of the car had leftover dirt and twigs and grape stains. It smelled like a mix of dried dirt and men’s aftershave. In the cup holder next to her, Devon found a crumpled up piece of paper—white, not Keaton green.

“Ready?” Raven called from the front door. “Great car, huh?”

Devon quickly pocketed the piece of paper. “Yeah, really cool. How old is it?”

Devon casually ran her hand across the dashboard, around the wheel, like she was interested in taking it for a test drive. Maybe Raven would take the bait.

“Who knows? It’s Grandpa Reed’s. Kind of the junk car for all the heavy lifting and hauling around here.” Raven got back in the Volvo and Devon followed, even though she would have preferred to sit in the Rover all day. That aftershave, though … maybe Grandpa Reed wore it? It smelled almost old fashioned, musky, too overt for Hutch.

Raven started the Volvo and Devon held onto her speaker again as the car bounced back down the hill. “Feel like surfing?”

Devon shook her head as the beach swam into view through the trees. The waves boomed. Seagulls coasted on the wind above, not flapping, surveying the water below.

“You sure?” Raven asked, turning into the parking lot. “I’ve got an extra board.”

“No thanks.”

Raven pulled her surfboard off the roof rack and shimmied into her wetsuit in the parking lot. Waves crashed like thunder. The gulls squawked and squealed.

Devon pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head as she eyed the rocky beach for a place to sit. She grabbed her backpack and a towel from the sandy backseat.

“Oh, can you grab my board wax? I think it’s on the floor back there.” Raven used the long string hanging from her wetsuit to zip the suit up her back. She tied her hair into a tight knot.

Devon reached back into the car. She dug past a damp towel covering the seat, protein bar wrappers, aged sunscreen tubes, a few loose homework assignments,

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