Dead Ends by Erin Jade Lange Page B

hairs stand up on end.
    â€œIf we don’t get home now, we’re going to be walking back in a tornado.”
    Billy stamped a foot. “But it’s not even dark yet!”
    â€œWell, I’m not your mom, dude. Do whatever you want. But I’m going to try to catch the bus, so I don’t get soaked.”
    Seely put a hand on Billy’s arm. “Yeah, it’s gonna get nasty. You better go. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
    Billy scowled up at the sky. “Tomorrow is Saturday?” he asked.
    â€œAll day,” Seely said.
    â€œFine.” Billy pouted. He shouldered his pack and started to pound his way across the park.
    The first drops of rain fell as Seely and I joined him. At the edge of the park, she pointed out her house and made us promise not to show up too early.
    â€œOkay,” Billy said. “But if it rains again, we’re still coming over.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “
I’m
not afraid of storms.”

Chapter 15
    Seely’s house was like one giant garage. The kitchen counters were covered in tools, drill bits, and metal parts I didn’t recognize. There was a diagram of some kind of engine taped up to the mirror in the bathroom and a table with a big, round saw set up in the living room, right in front of the TV.
    The homiest room in the whole place was the actual garage, where at least there were some dusty couches and a stereo. The computer was in the garage, too, so that’s where we were hanging out, drinking sodas, and finishing off Seely’s Easter candy.
    â€œThis is awesome,” I said for the fifth time, gawking at the garage.
    â€œIt’s okay,” Seely said.
    â€œOkay?” I swept an arm to indicate the vast space, big enough for two motorcycles, a truck, a living room setup, and anindustrial-sized workbench. “It’s bigger than my whole house—than
your
whole house.”
    â€œYeah, we expanded it when we moved in. I helped build it, but only because I thought that meant we’d keep the house, y’know, a
house
.”
    â€œBut this is perfect,” I argued. “Any guy would want to live here.”
    â€œExactly. Any
guy
. But I’m not a guy, in case you didn’t notice.” She glared at me.
    I had noticed, but it was easy to forget. I’d never met a girl who could rip a belch like Seely or who knew so much about cars. Talking to her was like talking to a dude, but
looking
at her was definitely like looking at a girl, even with her short hair.
    â€œI like it ’cause it’s warm,” Billy said.
    We’d both forgotten bus fare and had to walk the whole way to Seely’s in a downpour. Seely had fired up a pair of heaters and aimed them at the sofas in the garage, but we were still pretty soaked.
    I tilted my head toward the computer on the workbench.
    â€œDoes that dinosaur even work?”
    It was old-fashioned and boxy, like the TV in Mom’s bedroom.
    â€œOf course it works. My dad built it.” Seely propped herself up on a stool in front of the computer and turned it on.
    â€œI thought your dad fixed motorcycles,” I said.
    â€œHe does. One builds bikes. One builds computers.”
    Billy and I looked at Seely, then at each other, then back at Seely.
    Seely spun her stool toward us while the computer fired up.
    â€œIt’s funny. You guys have no dads, and I have two. I guess we all have our own issues.”
    â€œTwo dads?” I asked.
    Seely licked a smudge of chocolate off her thumb. “Well, three, if you count bio-dad, but I don’t.”
    â€œWhat’s a bio-dad?” Billy asked.
    â€œBiological, like, I have his DNA, but I don’t know him or anything.”
    â€œWhat about your mom?” I asked.
    â€œ
Bio
-mom,” Seely corrected. “Don’t think much about her, either. They’re not my parents, really—more like participants in a science experiment.”
    My face must have looked as