Freaks of Greenfield High

by Anderson, Maree

  She grinned. And her expression was so mischievous, so normal, it warmed him and almost made him forget what she was.

  But not quite.

  “That’s the beauty of Caro’s plan,” she said.

  “My sister actually came up with a plan? Whoa. Frame it and hang it on the wall. Wonders will never cease.”

  Jay gave a bark of surprised laughter. “I’ve missed your way with words, Tyler.” Some of her joy seemed to dim as she swept her gaze over him. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh, come on.” He tried for a scoffing tone. He thought he pretty much pulled it off, too. “We’ve only known each other for a short time. And it’s not like we were dating or anything. It’s not like we—” he curled his fingers into little pretend speech marks “—broke up.”

  “Seems that way to me. You go out of your way to avoid me, you barely speak to me at all, you won’t look me in the eye.” She tapped her temple with a forefinger. “Classic after break-up behavior, according to my databases. And haven’t you heard the gossip around school?”

  “I refuse to listen to gossip,” he said.

  She quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah. Riiight.”

  Whoa, she really was beginning to sound like both Caro and Em. “Fine. What gossip?”

  “Thought you didn’t—”

  “What. Gossip?”

  She smirked. Actually smirked! “You really sure—?”

  “Spill,” he said.

  “You asked for it. Word is, you really did convince me to blow you in the boys’ bathroom. And I was totally into you, but you’re just, like, a coldhearted a-hole who doesn’t give a crap about me now you’ve gotten what you wanted. So you’ve given me the brush-off. And now I’m pining. ’Cause you’re, like, sooo totally hot, I’m just gutted and I can’t get over you.” She scratched her head, frowning. “Did I get it right? Uh, yeah, that was it. Kinda.”

  His jaw dropped. “You have got to be freaking kidding me.”

  Jay’s mouth curled into a smug smirk. “Yep.”

  He couldn’t help his burst of laughter. “You got me good. That was totally Caro-worthy.”

  “Yep. Your sister has definitely been influencing me—in a good way, I hope. Evidently I don’t sound quite so nerdy and uptight, now. Did I really sound uptight before?”

  He bit his lip, trying not to smile. “A little. You were a bit too, um, polite before. But I didn’t think too much of it until I found out, uh—”

  “What I am?”

  “Yeah. What you are.”

  “Mmmm.” She gnawed on her lower lip, processing that statement. “Well, I’m hoping what I’ve learned will help me integrate myself into human society a bit more efficiently next time.”

  Next time. His heart plummeted to his toes. He didn’t want to think about her finding another home. Another school. Another boyfriend.

  He pretended to fumble in his bag for a non-existent something. God. He really had it bad. When he’d composed himself, he asked, “What was that favor you wanted?”

  “I’m having the farewell party at my place tomorrow night. Cover story is my uncle’s rung from out-of-state to say he’s had a job offer that’s too good to turn down. So he’s staying on to finalize the arrangements while I—”

  “Throw a huge party and trash the joint? Sounds like something Caro would come up with.”

  Jay snorted. Another of those very human mannerisms. “I was going to say, while I pack up and arrange to fly out and meet him,” she said. “I thought it was a pretty sound plan, actually. Believe me, Tyler, it won’t be long before the people after me come sniffing ’round, asking about me. And let’s just say, some kid throwing a farewell party while her uncle is out of town, isn’t quite so suspect as a kid who disappears without trace in the middle of the night and sets the entire town fluttering with dire predictions about her demise. Throwing a party is hardly something a cyborg would be likely to do, is it? With any luck my pursuers will arrive in Snapperton, immediately verify I’m not here and leave without bothering anyone.”

  “Here’s hoping. Not that I’d tell them anything, anyway.”

  She reached over and squeezed his hand. And kept hold of it. “If they ask, just tell them the truth.”

  “And what truth would that be?”

  “That you don’t know where I’ve gone. Don’t volunteer any other information. And for your own safety, don’t admit you know what I am.”

  A chill stroked his spine. This wasn’t some game. This was real. And things could get nasty. “I’ll be okay. I’m a pretty good actor.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “You are. And you fool most people, too. But beneath that I-don’t-give-a-crap façade, there’s someone I care about very much. So please, if you spot any strangers asking questions about me, keep a low profile. Be safe, Tyler. Promise me?”

  “I will.” He felt himself flushing beneath her concerned gaze. He’d never had much of a problem with blushing until she showed up. “About that favor,” he said, as much to distract himself as her.

  “Oh yeah. The favor. So, I’m having this party Saturday.”

  “Yeah, I kinda got that,” he said.

  “And I’d kinda like you to come. As my date.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The dust-smothered truck jolted over a wicked pothole, causing Michael to bounce off his seat and whack his head on the roof. He let loose with a vicious tirade that was completely out of proportion to the relatively minor pain. He only swore when he was worried. And he was far more concerned about this little escapade than he should have been.

  He rumbled to a halt outside one of Snapperton’s two motels, this one on the very outskirts of the town. From habit, his gaze flickered about, gauging potential threats without seeming to show any undue interest in his surroundings. He forced himself to relax. This wasn’t a retrieval. Hell, it wasn’t even a sanctioned operation. No one knew he was here.

  At least, Michael hoped no one knew.

  He climbed down from the truck and paused to stretch out the kinks in his back before reaching in to grab his bags.

  When he was halfway to the motel’s reception area, reality smacked him so damned hard he rocked back on his heels. It was just as he remembered it. The sign still proclaimed “Snapp to M tel”. He recalled that the missing letters had been painted in at one stage, but the paint had soon flaked and peeled. The motel’s frontage was still a listless blue, teetering on the edge of shabbiness and crying out for a decent lick of paint. The garden still needed a few more shrubs to fill in holes where plants had died off and been yanked out, but not replaced. Even the outside lights illuminating the reception area still buzzed like ravenous mosquitoes.

  Sure as eggs, the interior of each room would be clean and neat as a pin, though. And any guest with a hankering for some hearty home-style cooking, could still wander on over to the on-site café and be served with the best damned pie they’d ever tasted.

  And the worst damned coffee, too.

  About ten years ago, he and Marissa had farmed the kids out to friends and stayed the night here. They’d been so hard up they hadn’t been able to afford anywhere more fancy but they hadn’t cared. And Marissa….

  Michael smiled at the memory his wife picking up the phone and coercing I-don’t-do-room-service-Earl into bringing them an entire apple pie, a carton of ice cream and two spoons. One kiss on the cheek and that sunny smile of hers, and she’d had the motel owner wrapped around her little finger. After she’d shooed Earl out the door, they’d lounged in bed and scoffed the lot. It’d been one of the best nights of his life.

  He shook his head in wonderment. He’d bet his next slice of apple pie when he walked inside, Earl would still be lounging with feet up on his desk, popping gum, one eye on the door and the other on his portable TV.

  He pushed open the door.

  Yep. Earl was still manning the desk. He looked just the same as Michael remembered, beer belly, comb-over and all. Seemed nothing in Snapperton had changed.


  Except for him.

  He doubted even Marissa or the kids would recognize him now. Amazing what a shaved head, fake glasses and a thick, droopy moustache could do for a man. And not necessarily in a good way.

  Earl tore his gaze away from the small television and wadded his gum into his cheek with his tongue. “Help ya?”

  “I’d like a room, please.”

  “How long you staying?”

  “Couple of days.”

  “Yeah?” Earl cut his beady little eyes from Michael’s faded jeans and worn boots, to his laptop bag. “Got some important business in our fair town, huh?” He sniggered at his own pathetic joke.

  “Didn’t want to leave this in the truck,” Michael said, brandishing the laptop bag in an embarrassed fashion. “Boss’ll make me pay for it if it gets swiped. I’m just passing through on my way back from a sales conference. Figured I’d try and catch up with some old drinking buddies I haven’t seen in a few years. Know any good places round here?”

  Earl leaned forward and beckoned Michael closer. “Don’t let the Missus hear me telling you this, but I might be able to direct you to a particular establishment that’d make your hair curl. Whoooweee!” He fanned his face.

  Michael pretended to be mightily impressed by Earl’s description of the “particular establishment”. It was all part of building rapport. In the last five years, he’d perfected the art of being amiable and not too memorable. And the fictional “old drinking buddies” gave him an excuse to stay out half the night without Earl thinking anything of it.

  By the time he’d signed in, paid the deposit, and pocketed the key, he knew his disguise would hold. Earl hadn’t recognized him, didn’t suspect a thing.

  Michael was confident no one else would, either. Excepting perhaps his wife.

  He checked his watch. It was nearly four. Marissa had just started working Saturdays as cashier at the local Save-Mart. He’d been gutted to discover she’d taken another dead-end job just to make ends meet. Ironically, he had money to burn but no way of getting it to her without raising suspicions—hers and his boss’s.

  She’d be finishing her shift soon. It crossed his mind he could visit her workplace on the pretext of needing groceries, just to see her again. Just to confirm that she, too, hadn’t changed a whit.

  Too risky.

  Just like it was too risky for him to swing by his house and front up to the kids he hadn’t seen or contacted since he’d upped and vanished from their lives. Not that he cared about risking his own hide, but he sure as hell cared about risking Marissa and the kids.

  He wanted to see them, though. So damn bad it hurt.

  Five years. They would both have changed. Grown up. Done so much without him. It wounded him to think of all the milestones he’d missed.

  His already shaky composure was completely sunk when he opened the door to his motel room and realized it was the same room he and Marissa had been given ten years ago. Michael threw his laptop on the table, slumped on the end of the bed and covered his face with his hands as he remembered… and was again forced to confront what he’d given up.

  Eventually he got it together, and resigned himself to doing what he did best: Hiding away in some darkened room and ferreting out information. He told himself gathering information was the sole reason he’d come to Snapperton. He was ninety-nine percent certain the “Jay Smith” who’d registered at Greenfield High and was currently residing in an apartment not far from here, was Cyborg Unit Gamma-Dash-One.

  He told himself he wanted to eyeball the target, to be one-hundred percent certain, before he sent in an extraction team.

  He told himself he was risking his boss’s considerable wrath because it made sense to have all the facts, and having all the facts minimized the risk of casualties if the target set a trap for them, as she had done when they’d gone after her at Durham’s house. She’d beaten them down good and proper that time. And, in the deepest darkest recesses of his heart, damned if he hadn’t applauded. But this time the stakes were too high. This time, he couldn’t afford to think of her as human. She was the target, nothing more.

  Michael told himself again what he’d told his boss: Only the mission mattered. And when fear clawed through his belly at the thought of Marissa or Caro or Tyler coming to harm, he knew he was lying to himself. Just as the people he worked for had lied to him all along.

  Right from the very start.

  Chapter Sixteen

  For the umpteenth time, Tyler wondered what had possessed him to agree to be Jay’s “date” for her farewell party. If he hadn’t known the truth about what she was, it would’ve been dream come true material. He’d have been blissed out to the max. Over the freaking moon. Period.

  But knowing what he knew, knowing what she was….

  What made the whole situation miles worse was having Caro, his normally über-cool sister, swan around the house with such a dopey grin plastered over her face that anyone would think she was the one going on this date.

  Even his mom sported a dewy-eyed, proud-parent-type smile.

  He eyed his reflection in the mirror and scowled. It was a killer scowl, absolutely perfect in every way. And if he’d been able to produce it for his mom or his sister, it would’ve wiped the dumb expressions from their faces for sure. No doubt about it. Pity he couldn’t seem to summon anything other than a goofy grin whenever they brought up the “date” subject.

  He couldn’t figure out Caro’s deal. What was her stake in having her brother date a cyborg? She was his sister and although he loved her to death, the inner workings of her mind were a constant mystery. And his mom? She was a whole ‘nother scary-ass story. What the hell was she imagining? The whole hearts and flowers thing? Her son finally dating a “nice” girl?

  He snorted. No such freaking thing. Girls weren’t nice. They messed with your head and screwed with your heart.

  Vanessa had seemed nice at first. Sweet. And totally hot, which of course had been a definite plus. But it’d all been a lie. She’d dumped him the minute Matt looked at her sideways because Matt had his own car. And then, at the first opportunity, she’d dumped Matt for Shawn, moving on up the food chain without a backward glance.

  If Caro ever found out what Vanessa had done that night, his sister would pitch a fit of monumental proportions. A drug-dealer for a BFF and an ex-boyfriend who was popping steroids like candy? She’d wig out. She’d never forgive Vanessa and Shawn. Or Tyler, for not telling her the truth.

  And Jay…. God, Jay might do more than dump Vanessa on her ass this time. And, if he asked her, she’d treat Shawn to more than just a Dumpster-diving session.

  He indulged in a daydream where Shawn got his face rearranged. A couple of black eyes and a swollen, bloody nose. And if not losing a couple of teeth, then maybe enough damage that he’d need a retainer for the next year. Oh yeah. Niiice! Vanessa wouldn’t be too keen on flaunting her Boy Wonder if that happened.

  Secrets. Gah. He was just plain tired of them and all they stood for. Maybe he should just ’fess up and tell Caro what’d really happened. She was strong enough to deal. Hey, maybe he should just start a tell-all blog and have done with it.

  As appealing as it might be to fantasize about airing his dirty laundry, Tyler had one secret he could barely admit to himself. It was a big-ass scary secret. And one he prayed would never, ever, be discovered by anyone.

  If Jay were human, she’d be The One.

  Tyler grabbed his new cell phone and shoved it in his jeans pocket. He was halfway out of his room before he decided to grab one more thing, a thumb drive for Jay. He didn’t know whether or not he’d give it to her. He’d just play it cool and see what happened.

  His mom was oohing and aahing over Caro’s cell phone when he clomped downstairs. “Are you sure Jay’s uncle is okay with this?” she asked for the umpteenth time.

  Caro groaned. “Yes, Mom. He’s got, like, a box of them. Perks of his last job. How many times do I have to tell you this? And they’re pre-pays.
So we’ll be using our allowances to top them up, okay?”

  “Well, I suppose it’s all right then. But—”

  Tyler cut his sister a break and interrupted before their mom could air any more doubts. “I’m ready,” he announced from the doorway. “Let’s go. We promised Jay we’d get there early and help her set up.”

  “Bye, kids. Midnight curfew, as usual.”

  “Just this once can you make it one?” Caro wheedled from the doorway.

  “Fine. Just this once. Have fun.” His mom’s pleased face was the last thing Tyler glimpsed before he pushed Caro, who was still trying to figure out how to disable the predictive text function on her phone, out the front door.