“I, uh, followed you,” he said.
His eyes were so blue they practically glowed, so full of appeal for understanding. Normally those eyes would make her feel out of sorts—silly and weak at the knees. But she was scared and getting angry now, too, and it didn’t matter that he had beautiful eyes.
“You followed me? For how long?”
He rubbed the back of his head again, and Lauren wondered if he was missing his ponytail.
“I saw you go into the woods from my parents’ house.”
“You’ve been following me for like an hour and you never said anything? What are you, some kind of stalker?”
All her fear was gone now, the empty spaces filled in with anger. How dare he. How dare he follow her and watch her and never say anything until now.
And it wasn’t just that Jake had behaved like a creepy jerk. She felt, somehow, that he had intruded on something private. This was her business. She was the one who’d seen those girls in her head, not Jake. This was between Lauren and the monster.
Yes, it is a monster. Whether it’s a man or a thing with sharp teeth and claws it’s still a monster, and I can call it that.
Jake looked at the ground. She half expected him to start drawing patterns in the dirt with the toe of his sneaker. He gave off the unmistakable impression of a student caught out by the principal.
“I just wanted to talk to you. Every time I see you you’re running off somewhere else,” he said. His voice was so low she had to lean forward to hear.
“If you wanted to talk to me you could call my house like a normal person,” she said, and then she remembered the previous evening. “Why were you standing outside my window last night?”
“You saw me?” he asked. “I thought you were there in the window, but I couldn’t be sure. Why didn’t you come down and talk to me?”
“Why didn’t you knock on the door?” she said.
He nodded at that, like she’d scored a point.
“And anyway, what do you want to talk to me for?”
Jake looked right at her then, like he wanted to make sure she understood what he was going to say next.
“I always liked you, Lauren.”
Her heart felt like it stopped and then restarted in her chest, revving like an engine in high gear.
Liked me? He likes me? But that’s not right. He’s so much older. He’s been away at college, with college girls.
“Don’t make fun of me,” she said flatly, and turned away, picking up her duffel bag.
She started off, barely able to see the blood trail for the tears in her eyes.
Don’t waste them on him, Lauren. She swallowed hard and swiped at her eyes.
“Hey, wait,” he said, and a second later he grabbed her arm.
She shook him off. “Don’t touch me. I never said you could touch me.”
He put both hands in the air. “No touching. Hey, listen.”
She kept walking.
“Come on, Lauren. Just . . . two minutes. Just give me two minutes. I wasn’t making fun of you. Really, I wasn’t.”
Her sneakers stopped moving even though her brain was saying, Don’t listen to him, he’s only going to laugh at you now.
“Can you turn around? I don’t want to talk to your back.”
She turned slowly, reluctantly, the push and pull of her conflicting feelings nearly causing her to dart away.
Like a little rabbit in the same clearing as a fox, that’s what you thought before. Do you want to be the little rabbit?
No, she didn’t want to be a rabbit. She wanted to be a fox—a clever, beautiful fox that would show its teeth if it had to.
“I just wanted to, like, get to know you,” Jake said. “Even when we were little I liked hanging around you. But every time we meet, you run away from me like I’ve got a disease.”
“I do not.”
“You do. So I thought maybe the timing wasn’t right or whatever, because you know that one day you were sick and yeah, I get that you wouldn’t want to hang out after that. And yesterday you seemed like you were in a hurry to go somewhere. Last night I thought I would go up to your door and ask you to come out for a walk, but then I didn’t know if your mom would think it was weird, and anyway, what if you said no? I couldn’t tell myself you were in a rush to go somewhere else then. It would just mean you didn’t like me.”
He was afraid she would reject him? What?
“And then I saw you go by my parents’ house a little while ago and thought it was a chance to talk to you. So I followed you out—I was a little ways behind you because I had to put my shoes on—and I saw you go into the woods. When I caught up with you I saw you crawling around behind Mrs. Schneider’s house. I didn’t know what you were doing but you seemed really . . . intent.”
“I was looking for something,” she said, because he gave her an expectant glance.
“Well, that much was clear,” he said. “And then all of a sudden you took off running like a dog on the scent. It was all I could do to keep up with you.”
She didn’t know what to say to all of this, or what to feel about it. She’d always felt she was behind everyone else, especially Miranda. While Miranda was thinking about boys and grown-up things Lauren was still a child in the forest, building forts and playing pretend. But now this boy—she supposed he was technically a man, because he was legally an adult—was standing there saying he thought of her as a woman, not as little Lauren from down the block.
He’d stood outside her window, too afraid to come to the door and ask her to come out. And he’d chased her through the woods, all in the hopes that she would talk to him.
Lauren felt the first tugs of adulthood then, a land she’d thought was a far-off country still. She didn’t know it was really so close, or that she’d come upon it so fast.
And she felt a deep flush of pleasure that Jake Hanson, who really was good-looking (unlike Miranda’s Tad, and he was older to boot, and that was quite a catty thought, Lauren), thought enough of her, or the memory of her, that he would pursue her.
Even a fox is chased by dogs, she thought, but then her natural sense asserted itself.
“But . . . why me?” She gestured at him, up and down, and then at herself. “You’re so much older than I am.”
“Not as old as you think,” he said. “I only just turned eighteen three weeks ago. And you’re fifteen, right?”
“Not until November,” she said automatically, then felt her cheeks heat. Why had she said that? Why had she pointed out that she was even younger than he thought?
“But I thought you were away at college already,” she said quickly, to cover up her mistake. “And that you had an apartment and everything.”
“I graduated from high school a semester early,” he said. “If I hadn’t taken extra courses I would have only graduated two weeks ago. I was staying in the dorms at UIC last spring. And yeah, I got an apartment with a couple of other guys when I came back a few weeks ago but I didn’t know them really well. I moved out yesterday and back with my folks.”
“Why?”
He wrinkled his nose. “They were both stoners. I didn’t realize that when I told them I’d take the third room. Luckily my name wasn’t on the lease because I wasn’t eighteen yet when I agreed to move in with them. So I just packed up my clothes and came home. My parents don’t mind. I think my mom is happy to have a chance to feed me. And the laundry’s free.”
Somehow as he talked he seemed younger to her, much less the cool and distant older man. They were only three-and-a-bit years apart, after all. And he’d only just turned eighteen.
Maybe it isn’t so weird that he’s attracted to you. You’re not that bad-looking.
Just thinking this made her tug self-consciously at her hair, which she’d braided into a single plait down her back so it would be out of her w
ay. Nothing says little girl like braids. Maybe you should get one of those magazines Miranda is always reading. Unless Jake likes the Laura Ingalls look.
(Jeez, who cares what he thinks about your looks? Weren’t you doing something? What happened to Trixie Belden on a mission? What about the dead girls?)
“So anyway,” Jake said, and Lauren realized she’d let the silence go on too long, and that she should have said something back, given him some indication that his interest wasn’t entirely unwanted.
Because it wasn’t entirely unwanted, she realized. She remembered the feeling of his hand on her back, and how gentle he’d been when she got sick.
That must mean he really likes you. If he can watch you puke in the weeds and still run after you, then he must be sincere.
“Anyway,” Lauren said, and smiled at him.
He must have seen something in that smile, because he said, very fast with all the words running together, “Anyway I was wondering if you would go to the fair with me tomorrow night?”
“Like a date?” Somehow she’d never considered the possibility of a date. He would walk with her and buy her cotton candy and sit next to her on the Ferris wheel. Maybe he would hold her hand. Maybe he would put his arm around her.
He grinned then. “Yes, like a date.”
Tomorrow. Saturday. She saw David’s face in her head, heard David’s voice.
He wants you to be there. He wants to show you something.
Was Jake the “he” David was talking about? At the time Lauren thought David was making some kind of sinister prediction. But maybe he just caught a glimpse of Jake asking his big sister out on a date.
That’s weird, too, though. It’s not normal for four-year-old boys to see the future.
“I always liked that about you,” Jake said.
She realized she’d gone away somewhere in her head again, and found him watching her with a half smile.
“Liked what?”
“The way you thought so deeply about things. You were like that even when you were tiny. Always serious, and your eyes far away. I wanted to know where you were going. I wanted to know if you would take me there with you.”
Were eighteen-year-old boys supposed to speak like this? Were they supposed to see so much?
“I’ll go out with you,” Lauren said. “But I promised my brother David I’d take him to the fair tomorrow.”
Jake sidled a little closer to her then—not close enough to touch, just out of arm’s reach. But she felt his presence in the way she hadn’t a moment before, felt the inhale and exhale of his breath mixing with hers.
“Well, it’s totally up to you—but maybe you could take him in the afternoon and I could meet you later? Or I can go with both of you in the afternoon if you’d rather.”
Lauren wrinkled her nose. “You want me to bring my little brother on our date?”
He shrugged. “I don’t mind. As long as I’m with you.”
As long as I’m with you. Six words that changed everything in an instant. Six words that made her heart sing.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” he said. “You’ll really go out with me?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll take David in the afternoon and then I’ll come back and meet you.”
“Don’t you think I should come and pick you up? So your mom knows who you’re with?”
“Are you from the planet of perfect boyfriends? Most guys wouldn’t care if a girl’s mom knew where she was.”
“Your mom is my parents’ neighbor. And Smiths Hollow is a small town. Don’t you think she’ll be mad if you go out with me and finds out from somebody else?”
He was right. Lauren knew he was right. And even with their temporary truce it would take only a little explosion to tip them back into the war zone.
But Lauren didn’t think her mom would really like the idea of her on a date with someone, either. If Lauren told her mom she was going to meet up with Jake at the fair, though, it would sound a lot more casual.
Because it is casual. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like you’re getting engaged or something. He’s just taking you to the fair.
(HE’S TAKING ME TO THE FAIR OH MY GOD)
“I’ll tell her I’m meeting you,” Lauren said.
Jake gave her a skeptical look.
“I will. Cross my heart and hope to die,” Lauren said, and made an X over her chest with her forefinger as she did.
“Okay,” he said.
There came an awkward pause then, because they were standing alone in the middle of the woods and neither one of them seemed to know what to do next.
“So . . . what is it you’re trying to find out here?” he asked. “Or are you going camping?”
“Camping?”
He gestured to the bag.
“No, it has my, um, gear,” Lauren said.
“Gear for what?”
He wasn’t being nosy. He wasn’t trying to pry into her business. He was just curious, as anyone would be, about her strange behavior.
But it feels like he’s being nosy and this is my thing my search it’s between me and the killer and Jake doesn’t have to get involved.
(He could help you. And you wouldn’t be alone out here.)
Yes, it would be nice if she weren’t alone. But she wasn’t scared. Not even a little bit.
(liar)
It wasn’t about fear. Not really. It was about whether Jake was trustworthy.
You agreed to go on a date with him. You have to trust him a little.
Jake watched her, and she sensed both his amusement at her mental tangents and his patience as he waited for her to finish.
“So, you know about those dead girls that were found a couple of days ago?” she said.
“Dead girls?”
“There were two dead girls in Mrs. Schneider’s yard,” she said.
It seemed like the memory was struggling up from somewhere deep and buried, like something that happened a long time ago rather than recently. She saw his eyes cloud in confusion, then clear.
“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I think my mom mentioned it. What about them?”
“Well,” Lauren said, and decided very quickly not to mention anything about her vision or the floating book. She’d only sound like a crazy liar. “I heard that the police didn’t know who the girls were. There was a bit in the paper about it, about how they were trying to identify them. They think the girls came from somewhere else.”
“So you’re . . . what? Trying to find out who they were? By doing what—pretending to be Nancy Drew?”
“Trixie Belden, actually,” Lauren said. “I’m following the trail of blood from behind the yard.”
“What makes you think you’ll find anything other than blood?” he asked.
It wasn’t a laughing-at-your-stupidity asking. It sounded like he was genuinely curious.
“I thought maybe they might have dropped something in the woods.”
“Like an ID?”
“Yeah,” she said, shifting the bag a little on her shoulder. “Like an ID, or a bag, or even a dropped library book.”
“And what will you do if you find something?”
“Take it to the police,” she said. “So that they can find the girls’ parents. Because they would want to know.”
He brooded on this for a minute, then said, “Lauren, doesn’t it upset you at all to be out here?”
“Why would it upset me?”
“Your dad died here, didn’t he?”
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “But I’ve always spent time in the woods. My dad dying is something that doesn’t really have anything to do with that.”
Jake opened his mouth, then closed it. It looked like he wasn’t sure he should say what he was thinking.
“What?” she asked.<
br />
“Don’t you think that maybe the person who killed your dad might be the same one who killed those girls? They were all cut up, right?”
This hadn’t occurred to her, and she didn’t know why.
“No. I mean, yes, the girls were all cut up, but I don’t think it had anything to do with my dad.” There was no way she could explain about her vision. “Listen, do you want to help me search?”
Jake looked at his watch. “I have to go to work at four. So I can stay out for maybe an hour, then I have to go home and get ready.”
She nodded and pointed to a splash of blood on the ground nearby. “See that?”
He squinted. “That little brown mark?”
“Yeah, that’s blood,” she said.
“How do you know? It could be anything.”
“I know,” she said. She was not going to explain about magic and sparkling particles, either. “Just trust me, okay? I’m following the trail, so you look around as we walk and see if anything pops out.”
“Okay,” he said.
It took Lauren a minute to pick up the trail again, and even then part of her brain was preoccupied by Jake’s presence. She didn’t have a lot of experience (okay, no experience) with boys, but he was a lot more considerate than, say, Tad. Lauren couldn’t imagine Tad agreeing to traipse through the woods after Miranda—not unless there was an arcade out there, or some other opportunity for him to show off and have his sycophants cheer for him.
But the old Miranda would have come with me.
She needed to stop thinking that, because it just made her feel sad. Her friend was changing and so was she. It was part of life.
“Are you still friends with anyone you were friends with when you were a little kid?” Lauren asked.
Jake shrugged. “Not really good friends. There are a couple of people that I still kind of talk to from middle school, but mostly we all got interested in different things in high school. It’s not like we hate each other or anything. We just kind of lost touch.”
“Oh,” Lauren said.
The blood trail was becoming more obvious, the splashes of blood easier to see. She thought they must be closing in on the killing site. Her stomach lurched in anticipation.
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