Tigers, Not Daughters - Samantha Mabry Page 0,16

had a rule against boys in the house, and John shared a bedroom with his brother and his cousin, so Jessica’s car was usually the only place where she and John could be alone together. Sometimes they sat in her car outside of John’s house. Other times they went to a park or the empty lot of an office building. Sometimes they made out. Sometimes they talked. Sometimes, they made out then talked.

For now, they were parked a couple of streets over from Jessica’s house, across from the high school. They weren’t making out. Or talking. They were just sitting. It was three-something in the morning. Thunderclouds were rolling in, and Jessica was waiting for John to tell her to drive him home.

It had only been a little over two hours since she’d run out of the pharmacy and plunked down with a contented sigh into the front seat of her car. She didn’t feel content anymore.

“Aren’t you tired?” Jessica asked.

John shifted, angling in. “You’re trying to get rid of me?”

John usually smelled like his house, which smelled like his kitchen, which smelled like the yeasty bread his grandmother liked to bake. Tonight, he didn’t smell like that. He smelled sour. Not sour like yeast, but sour like sweat, like he’d been out under the sun for hours, sweating then cooling, sweating then cooling.

“Of course I’m not trying to get rid of you.” Jessica slouched in her seat. “I’m just tired. I was at the store forever, and I have to get up early tomorrow and go back again. Hey, speaking of that . . . I’ve been thinking about asking my manager about transferring.”

What Jessica said next came out in a rush.

“It wouldn’t be for a while. I’d have to make sure my family was set up alright, and I wouldn’t go anywhere too far, just like to Austin or Galveston. It’s a good time for a new start, you know? You and I—we can get a cheap little place together, but still be close enough to visit home when we wanted.”

It took a while for John to respond. “The last time you tried to run away it didn’t work so well.”

Jessica scoffed. “It’s not running away if I’m sitting here telling you about it. I’m asking you to come with me.”

“I love you, Jess,” John said. “But I’m not leaving San Antonio.”

“But do you want to?” Jessica urged.

“It’s not about wanting to or not. I won’t leave. My family needs me.”

Jessica held in a snicker. John’s family needed him for what, exactly? He’d never had a job. His mom spoiled him rotten, and since his car broke down in the spring, all he’d been able to say he’d done this summer was stay home and fix his little cousin grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch every day.

What did John know about a family that needed him? Jessica’s dad had turned from a man into a puddle the other day and would’ve stayed there, sobbing on the street, for God knows how long, if Jessica hadn’t literally hauled him off the ground and begged him to walk. When he wasn’t having a public meltdown, Rafe required nonstop words of love and loyalty. He also required food, so Jessica had to carve out money from her paycheck each month to keep the fridge stocked. She also had to make sure Iridian didn’t fossilize under the covers of her bed and that Rosa didn’t do something weird like sprout wings and fly off into the sky.

Speaking of Rosa.

Up ahead, a familiar form wearing a long dress and rubber boots was crossing the street. As Rosa passed under a streetlight, Jessica noticed she was eating something. Beef jerky? A candy bar?

“Is that . . . ?” John asked.

Jessica honked her horn.

Rosa stopped and turned. She waved and then waited as Jessica started her car and drove up the block.

“What are you doing?” Jessica called out the open window as she pulled up alongside her sister. “It’s about to start raining.”

Rosa turned toward the black sky pulsing behind her, and as Jessica stuck her hand out the window,