Page 75 of Twisted Lies

Chapter 36

Astrid

On Friday night, I don’t bother sending Nova a text. Probably because I’m not sure if she’s going to answer me. After curfew, I leave through the basement and hop on my bike, heading for the gates concealed by the darkness. Usually, that feeling of riding away from the oppressive place lifts me up as I speed away. But something has changed as my instincts become hyper-focused. I sense a shift when I approach the Monarch schoolyard, where a cluster of people huddles inside the chain-link fence.

They watch me ride in the gate, but I pretend not to notice them. Suddenly having a bike is a burden, even a beat-up one. I spot that new guy, Ace, but there’s no recognition when he sees me. Quickly, I scan the schoolyard for Nova, Derick, or even Wyatt. I don’t know the people here, and they don’t recognize me.

My heart pumps against my ribs, and I feel a way I’ve never felt in my hometown. I feel scared. I don’t dare pull my phone out of my pocket. A few weeks ago, I splurged on a smartphone that can do just about everything but cook me a meal. I ride around the perimeter of the schoolyard, checking once more for Nova and thinking I may have to take off when I see her and Derick cutting through an opening in the fence. Nova is dressed in a navy pea coat, while Derick is dressed down in denim. Sighing softly, I coast my bike toward them.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were showing,” I smile brightly at Nova.

She shrugs her shoulders, barely looking at me. “This is the only place to be. Now.”

“Derick, you gave up on the Pit too?” I ask, desperate for conversation and eager to prove I should be here.

The two cousins pass a look, and Derick pulls a sarcastic face. “Don’t think I’ll be back there anytime soon.”

Nova frowns. “Have you been there lately, Astrid?”

I frown. “No,” I shake my head. “It’s been a while.” I don’t have time to ask another question as they stride over to a group of people waiting. Nova slaps hands while Derick jokes and raises the energy. They play the crowd the way they used to before the Pit. The groups combine, and we move together toward the rundown school.

“Hey, I want to fight,” Ace talks to Nova, “but I don’t want to wait until more of a crowd shows up.”

“I sent out a blast,” replies Derick, throwing an arm over Ace’s shoulders.

Nova smiles. “You can handle two fights, Ace. One now and one later.”

Ace nods, pleased with her confidence. He glances over in my direction, and I nod. He nods back but doesn’t warm up to me. That’s okay while we’re still strangers.

Derick continues to reassure Ace that he sent out a blast, and people will come when they want to come. The night air is chilly, and I hug my arms, wondering if they have any more chairs to burn. But the small group stops in front of the locked gymnasium doors. The kid is back, and Ace and Derick boost him up easily to an open window. In a few minutes, the doors to the old gymnasium open up.

Nova steps in first, leading the way. “No lights!” she shouts, “We have lamps. And if the cops come, I don’t know why you’re in here.”

The decrepit wooden bleachers attached to the walls are pulled out and filled with spectators. Nova sits at a steel table by the door with a sign-up sheet and a large mayo jar that’s been scrubbed clean.

Derick plays emcee with a Bluetooth mic connected to his phone. “Put a donation in the jar,” he shakes the few dollars in it, “So we can witness an ass-whipping, my friends.”

We could make this so much more. I sit beside Nova at the table on a folding chair, and we wait to see if anyone else is coming. People are streaming in, young and old, adding cash to the jar. My heart lifts and then sinks each time someone comes in. I hope that Wyatt will show, but I end up disappointed.

Staring at Derick doing his thing, Nova has her arms crossed over her chest, and we’re not really talking, not like we used to.

“I’m booking the fights at the Pit,” I let her know.

“Really?” She lifts a brow and sends me side-eye at the same time.

“Yeah, I’m booking the fights on Sunday night,” I explain defensively, “I can put your name down on the roster.”

Nova scoffs and shakes her head. “Excuse me while I say no. Not interested. Never ever going to go back.”

I frown at her. “The money is still good.”

She looks at me full-on. “You really haven’t been there lately, have you?”

I shake my head, and the wicked look she gives me informs me that I’ve lost touch, especially with her.

“Our new club is making money,” she softens the rejection with an explanation, “Not as much as we would make on a good night, but we’re pulling it in.” The jar is two-thirds filled with cash.

“I could help if you want me to,” I reply, “with the books.”