Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1)

by Emily Kazmierski

  I pull my knees up to my chest. The prematurely dark sky, courtesy of gray clouds heavy with rain, mimics my mood.

  Tonight is opening night of The Mousetrap, and I won’t be there. It’s the first time I have ever missed an opening night, but Esau doesn’t want me there. If he did, he would have asked. So instead of bundling up and leaving when my sister and Agent Biel, er, Karen, did, I watched them drive away from the shelter of the front window.

  My fingers itch for something to do, but I’m done with my schoolwork and I am not taking Karen up on her idea to clean all of the fast food containers out of the fridge. Stinky leftover mushroom chicken? No thanks.

  My phone buzzes and I glance down at it, chin resting on one knee.

  It’s a message from Fiona. The show starts in half an hour and Esau’s a no-show.

  They need me.

  I’m throwing on a raincoat and Karen’s black rubber boots before I have a chance to think. I’m not going to miss opening night for anything.

  The heavens wait until I’m halfway between the old house and the school before opening their floodgates and dousing me with rain. Even being soaked to the bones can’t dampen my smile.

  The roar of the crowd is thunderous as the curtain falls. The show went off perfectly, and I have a fantastic cast and crew to thank for it. It helped that they were used to me giving suggestions (and arguing with Esau), so when I showed up fifteen minutes before curtain looking like a drowned rat, they took it in stride.

  Marisa hugged me despite already being in costume. Fiona and Dariel asked me to mediate a lighting dispute (Fiona was totally right). And I stood in Esau’s usual spot to one side as the show began. By the time the curtain went up, I was soaked in rain and a thin sheen of cold sweat. I had never felt more alive.

  Being on stage is nothing like the rush of directing a show. It’s so much better.

  No wonder Esau didn’t want me anywhere near this place. One taste of power and I want more. I tried texting him before it began, but he didn’t answer.

  Director or not, the show had to go on. Marisa and the rest of the cast absolutely killed it. As evidenced by the hoots and whistles coming from the audience.

  The cast goes through their practiced show wrap-up, bowing in order, before Marisa grabs the microphone. It’s my cue to leave, and I’m about to do exactly that when our leading lady says, “Not so fast, Director Thomas. Everyone, please welcome Taryn Thomas to the stage.”

  I shake my head vehemently, hissing, “I’m not going out there.”

  “Yes you are,” Viv says, pushing me out of the shadows and under the bright stage lights.

  The crowd starts clapping again. Audrey and Karen beam up at me from third row center.

  “Give Taryn a hand,” Marisa says, grinning. “Our original director couldn’t be here tonight, so this lady here stepped in and made sure The Mousetrap went fantastically. Taryn, you’re the best. You started this semester as the new kid, but now you’re so much more. A fabulous director, and a great friend. Thanks, girl.”

  She hands me the microphone and steps back. I stand in surprise for a second, basking in the limelight for the first time in what feels like aeons. A surge of joy at the adoration of the crowd, the power I wielded tonight, flutters over my skin. Maybe it was a good thing Esau wasn’t here, so I could find my own directorial bent. I know exactly what to say.

  “Marisa is right. I started this semester as just the new girl. I didn’t know anyone, and I didn’t have a place here at Valley High. But over the past few months, I’ve found my niche. Here with the drama crew. I’ve learned so much about lighting and costuming and blocking and team management. It’s been kind of a whirlwind. A wild, stressful one.

  The truth is, I never could have done any of it without the help of our director, Esau Chavez. This play you saw tonight was his vision, and I was honored to step in and make it happen since he couldn’t be here. Esau is a lot of things: demanding, exacting, detail oriented. He had a picture in his head for how this play would look, and it turned out amazing. Even more amazing, over the weeks, Esau took the time to listen to his cast and crew. When they had ideas, he considered their merit instead of simply shutting people down. He got more out of us than any of us expected, including me. He did it with grace, even when I argued with him about pretty much everything. We couldn’t have pulled off this show without him. Let’s hear it for Esau!”

  The crowd bursts into another round of applause along with the cast. Handing the microphone back to Marisa, I jog toward the side. And stop.

  A tingling sensation skitters along my nape, making me shade my eyes to scan the crowd. Someone is watching me. I know that’s stupid to say when there are in fact several hundred people watching me, but I can feel it.

  There.

  Leaning against the back wall, almost completely hidden by the shadows, is Esau. Even from so far away, we lock eyes. When I point to the exit, he nods. He’ll meet me outside.

  Esau is already there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest when I exit the back of the theater. His neck is craned, and he’s watching the moon and stars as they peek out from behind a tear in the clouds. Black hair winds down his chest as it rises and falls in several deep breaths.

  I take the spot next to him in silence. Tilting my head back, I find a couple of the constellations he pointed out to me that night in the orchard. The memory feels fuzzy, as if I’m viewing it through a pane of rippling water.

  So much has happened since then, and I don’t know if that boy and girl exist anymore.

  The screeches and laughter of the crowd leaving the theater fill the night air. People hug on the curb. Car doors slam. The crush in the parking lot drains away.

  Finally, when a hush wraps around us like a scratchy wool blanket, he tilts his head to look at me. “I want to know if any of it was real.”

  My sharp intake of breath jerks his attention to my mouth for the barest of seconds before his jaw ticks and he looks away again. Seeing Esau, beautifully capable, assured Esau with that uncertainty in his eyes physically hurts.

  “All of it. I mean, my name wasn’t, but the rest of it—that was me.”

  His hands slide down into his pockets as he stares out into the darkness. “Hard to believe.”

  “I’m sorry. Again. I don’t know what else I can say.”

  Esau sighs and turns toward me. “I don’t get you. You spend all semester arguing with me about the play. About everything, and the minute you get the chance to take credit… you don’t. If you weren’t trying to steal my role, what were you doing? It doesn’t make sense.” With a huff, he pushes his hair back behind his ears.

  “Didn’t take credit…” The truth behind what he is saying dawns on me in a blaze of lightning.

  “You didn’t show up tonight just to see what I would do? Did Fiona know?” But even before I finish getting the words out, I know she did. Everyone was too eager to see me when I arrived at the theater earlier tonight. They were far too earnest when they peppered me with questions during our last few precious minutes before the start of the show. They were bating me to see if I’d buck Esau’s vision and do my own thing. Testing my loyalty to their friend to see if I’d remain true or stab him in the back. Behind their complaints about Esau’s griping, they care for him. They’re loyal to him.

  Those terrible, wonderful people.

  “It was a test. You were testing me.”

  An owl screeches on the wind, making me start and glare out into the inky black. I don’t know if I’ll ever grow accustomed to that. But everything else about living in the country? I could get used to it.

  Esau’s laugh floats away in a puff of hot air. His eyes fall to mine. The piercing clarity of his gaze feels like it could penetrate clear down to my soul, which is ridiculous. No one can read my mind, not even this boy who I’ve spent the past three months sparring with by day and kissing by night.

  “No one makes me as mad as you do. No one drives me as wil
d, wondering what you’re going to do next. No one has ever pushed me to expand my vision like you do. I tried to make myself stop thinking of you, but even physical pain couldn’t change how I feel.” Yanking the rubber band off his wrist, he throws it in the garbage can I used to prop the door open.

  “So you’re here to tell me how much you hate me?” It comes out more breathy than teasing. How can it not when Esau is looking at me with such intent in his eyes?

  “I have to know. How much of it was real?” The weight in his eyes slays me.

  In the distance, a train whistles. Often at night, when I’m snuggled safe in my bed at home, I can hear it in the distance. It’s become one of my favorite night sounds. Hearing it now gives me serenity. A tremble ruffles my fingers as I reach out and take Esau’s hand. Gently, I fold his fingers down but for his pointer and middle fingers and press them into the thrumming at the side of my neck.

  “Your heart is racing.” He starts to withdraw his fingers, but I cover them with my own to stop him.

  “You asked me if any of it was real. You can feel the proof of it under your fingers. Being with you makes my heart come alive. These past few months, arguing with you, talking to you were exactly what I needed. No, more than that. Being with you was the one good thing about moving here. After my parents were killed, I thought I’d never feel anything but anger. But you, you re-ignited my spark. You reminded me that there is so much more to being alive than hatred. There are so many good things too. Friendship, laughter, hard work… love. I’ve been saying that I make the magic happen, but it’s you. You make the magic. You brought me back to life, Esau. I hope you know that.”

  Esau steps into my space. The toe of his work boot bumps up against my rain boot. Warmth folds over me as he brings his hand up to cup my jaw. The other hand hovers barely there over my scar, above it to the curve of my brow. “You’re the magic,” he whispers just before his mouth covers mine. Esau kisses me like I’m the sweetest oxygen he’s ever tasted and now that he knows it, it’ll never be enough.

  I kiss him right back, letting him know with every brush of my fingers down his cheeks or through his hair that we were both right. I make the magic happen. He makes the magic happen. Together, we’re a miracle.

  Chapter 41

  Day 178, Wednesday

  Audrey

  Noah answers the door a full minute after I knock. Inside, Anza whispers, “Megan’s here! Do you think she’ll play with me?”

  “Shh. Quiet. She’ll hear you. Her name’s Audrey. ”

  “Are we playing hide and seek?” Mattie asks.

  My cheeks flush.

  “No! No, I just… Don’t open that. I’ll do it.”

  When the door finally swings inward, Noah frowns behind his glasses, which are crooked on his nose. The ivory waffle shirt he’s wearing is open at the collar, exposing the way his throat bobs when he swallows nervously. “How much of that did you hear?”

  “I didn’t hear anything.” My completely convincing shrug almost makes him shake his head. One hand grips the wooden frame.

  “Right.” Shutting the door behind him, Noah motions me toward the wicker chairs at the far end of the porch.

  My shoulders slump at the realization that he doesn’t want me in his house. I’d been looking forward to seeing the twins again. Their beaming smiles and bright energy were always a welcome shot of hope when I fumbled in the dark.

  My hands dangle awkwardly between my thighs as I try to find a comfortable position in the hard chair. Noah sits on the edge of the seat, elbows resting on his knees. He scans the yard, looking for something.

  “An animal tried to get into our chicken coop last night. Napoleon scared it away.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Yeah. Got a couple of shallow scrapes and a hurt wing, but he’ll live.”

  “Wow. Knowing that bird, I wish I could see the other guy.”

  A loud crow caws from behind the house, and I pull my feet up off the ground. As if that would protect me if Napoleon comes running in defense of his castle.

  A small laugh escapes Noah’s pursed lips. He shifts, sneaking a peek at me with his peripheral vision.

  I pretend not to notice, just like I do whenever I catch him covertly studying me at school. Geez, it’s freezing out here. A shiver runs through me.

  Noah stands abruptly and goes into the house.

  My brow furrows in disappointment. I guess being near me was simply too much. He’s still too mad at me to hear what I have to say. Frowning, I make my way down the porch steps, rubbing at my arms in a vain attempt to warm up. The long walk back to Karen’s house will help. I hope.

  “Where are you going?”

  I whirl at the note of incredulity in the question.

  Noah is standing on the top step, jacket on and a blanket draped over one arm.

  “You left, so…”

  “To get a blanket for you.”

  “Oh.” I retake the chair, acutely aware of the strain between us. Noah’s even more withdrawn than he usually is at school. Maybe it’s because when we’re there at least he has class work to focus on.

  Careful not to touch my shoulders, he wraps the thick afghan around me. I tuck it under my chin and let the warm cover hang down over my legs.

  “Better?”

  “So much. Thanks.”

  Noah’s eyes catch mine and linger there for a beat. I hold perfectly still in the hopes that he’ll forget he’s mad at me long enough to let me explain. Just as I open my mouth, he blurts, “You look different without the scar.”

  Surprised, I cover my newly-bare cheek with one icy hand. “It’s weird not seeing it when I look in the mirror. This might sound… strange, but I kind of miss it. Having that scar made it easy for me to blend in with my sister, but without it. I can’t hide anymore. When people look at me, they see Audrey. Not Taryn. It’s not something I’m used to.”

  “You were hiding?”

  I nod, eyes on the wooden slats under my shoes.

  “You could keep wearing it, but you shouldn’t hide who you are.”

  Biting my lip, I meet his look again. “I don’t want to anymore. If I’ve learned anything from all of this, it’s that before, it was the hiding that made me feel like my parents—like everyone—overlooked me. But it was my own fault. I let Taryn shine while I faded into the background. But over the past few months, I’ve figured out that it doesn’t have to be one or the other. Taryn and I can both shine in the same space. Just look at what happened with her and Esau. Even with only spending half his time with her, he fell for her. And you—” I stop, my cheeks flushing red, not from the cold. “What I’m trying to say is that my sister and I are pretty different, and that’s okay. We don’t have to be the same. We can love what we love and still be close. She listens to me talking about orchids and I help her brainstorm ideas for drama club. It’s the give and take that makes us work. I forgot that once. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

  Noah runs a hand through his curls. “All of that’s great. Really, Audrey. I’m glad you’re finding yourself again. But why are you here?”

  “Right.” I ignore the pangs of hurt that ripple over my heart as I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. Opening the photo app, my fingers hover over the last image. One I took this morning, in a room buzzing with activity and bad fluorescent lighting.

  “You remember that green and yellow sweatband you showed me once? The one you wore on your wrist when you were younger? You said your brother was wearing the other one when he, you know.”

  “What about it?”

  Turning my phone toward him, I wait.

  Noah stares at the image of a green and yellow sweatband covered in blood for so long that my arm starts to ache, but I don’t move. We’re done with our art project, so once I give him this one last thing—something he deserves so much—I’ll leave him alone.

  Noah’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, pulling his eyes from the screen to my face. “Where, where did
you see it? I spent so many hours crawling around in the dirt behind the gas station looking for it, but I never—It wasn’t there.”

  “Sheriff Lamb had me at the station this morning looking through photos of some of the items they found in the Baugh house. Albert Baugh, he, he kept trinkets as mementos of each of his kills. They wanted to know if I recognized any of them. They’d already identified most of them, but the sweat band. I was pretty sure it was the twin to yours. Noah, I’m sorry.” My expression collapses as the weight of all of the horrible things I saw in those photos finally hits me.

  I sat in that cold metal chair in the Sheriff’s office sifting through images as if they didn’t affect me, with Taryn and Karen right there for support. But now? I let a few tears fall before I swipe my eyes on my sleeve.

  “Lamb thinks the sweatband was from his first victim, but when they ran the blood, they didn’t get any results. I think it’s because your brother wasn’t in their system. Does that sound right to you?”

  Noah’s eyes are round and glassy as he stares at the image. I’m not sure he even heard me until he jumps up. “I have to go down there. Maybe they can take a sample from me to verify. I can’t believe after all these years—I have to tell my parents.”

  I stand up too. “I hope this news brings all of you some closure. I’m sorry you had to wait so long.”

  He looks at me over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around the doorknob. “Thanks, Audrey.”

  It’s the first time he’s called me by my real name, and it sends a bolt of lightning through me.

  “Hey!” I call as the door is closing.

  Noah pokes his head out. “Yeah?”

  “I was wondering; would you be interested in going to the diner with me sometime? We could get shakes. Maybe even some of those animal fries you like. My treat.”