Page 20 of Good as Gold
CHAPTER8
EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO
LEILA IS 17. RORY AND MATTEO ARE 18.
Leila and Rory are at a bonfire.
It’s October, and they’re standing in a clearing in the woods that’s this year’s best party spot. The cops haven’t discovered it yet, because the clearing isn’t visible from the road. The fire is crackling, and the keg somebody paid their uncle to buy for them still has beer in it.
A stupid sophomore has sacrificed his truck’s battery in order to play music from the stereo, and kids are dancing in the dying evening light.
Leila isn’t enjoying herself, though. She’s holding her red Solo cup listlessly and leaning against a hemlock tree. She’s seventeen, and her senior year of high school has just begun.
It’s her year to rule the school, but everything feels wrong, because Matteo left town last week. And Leila hadn’t seen it coming.
Sure, he’d talked about going out west. She’d known he’d been serious, but she hadn’t thought he’d leavenow. The ink had barely dried on his high school diploma when he’d lit out of town.
“Hey.”
She looks up to find Rory standing beside her. “Hey.”
He crosses his arms. “I thought you liked this song.”
“I do,” she says, even though she hasn’t registered what was playing.
“Then why are you making this face?” Rory makes an exaggerated hang-dog face.
Leila only shrugs. She doesn’t want to explain herself.
“He’ll be back,” he says. “You know that, right?”
She blinks. “Sure. Of course.”
“He won’t last a month out there. Where’s he going to live? He thinks he can get a job just like that.” Rory snaps his fingers. “And a ski pass to Aspen. And an apartment to rent. Not likely. He’ll be asking to borrow the money for a bus ticket home.”
But Leila isn’t so sure. Matteo is resourceful. And he’s a hard worker who never complains. If anyone gives him a chance, he’ll be employee of the month.
“Besides, we have plans for when he comes back. We’ll get restaurant jobs and save up for our van.”
Leila wonders why Rory hasn’t already gotten that job and started saving. But she holds her tongue.
“Matteo needs us. He just doesn’t realize it yet.”
“Oh, for sure,” she says. But then she thinks about it a beat longer. The thing about Matteo is hedoesn’tneed them. He isn’t like Rory, who constantly demands her attention. Matteo is more self-contained.
Now the three musketeers aren’t three anymore, and her world suddenly feels smaller. Somehow, life just made more sense with Matteo around.
Strange, but true.
“Come on,” Rory says, grabbing her free hand. “Drink that beer. Dance with me. You shouldn’t mope. He isn’t.”
That is depressingly true.
Leila puts down her beer, which is tasteless, anyway. You can’t grow up a Giltmaker and have any patience for cheap beer.
She follows him toward the fire.
Rory drops her hand and spins around. It’s a dance move that’s meant to make her laugh, and it works.
