“No, but Janet does. Of course, he’s not interested in her.” Adam shakes his head. “It’s all so bogus and complicated. You think you’re done with drama in high school, but it’s just as bad in college.”
“And, speaking of college,” Kimmie gives Adam’s arm a tug, “care to take me on that tour? How else am I going to know whether or not to apply?”
While Kimmie continues to deploy her prying skills, Adam leads her down a short hallway to where I assume the bedrooms are, and Wes moves into the living room to rifle through the stack of Adam’s mail on the coffee table.
“Just leave it,” I say, scolding him.
Wes ignores me, pulling forth what appears to be a crossword puzzle. “What’s this?” he asks.
I take a closer look, noting the shape of the puzzle—the way the tiles form a capital T in the far right corner, and a capital L in the lower left. There’s a sea of tiles between the two letter shapes.
Exactly like what I sculpted last night.
“What’s wrong?” Wes asks, noticing my alarm.
Before I can answer, Adam returns to the kitchen, having finished playing tour guide. Luckily, however, thanks to Kimmie, they remain at the kitchen island, with their backs toward us.
“So, would you say that most everyone in the building is pretty normal?” Kimmie asks, still fishing for information. “There’s no one I’d need to worry about? Because my parents are pretty anal about that sort of thing,” she lies. “I swear, if it were up to them, I’d probably be living at home for the rest of my life.”
Adam tries to address her concerns as best he can. Meanwhile, I grab a pen and get to work on the puzzle, noticing that there are only three questions, even though the puzzle’s big—with enough tiles to fit over twenty different answers. Still, I solve the riddles fairly quickly; the answers are all pretty obvious.
“I just don’t get it,” I whisper, knowing there must be some significance here. I mean, what kind of crossword puzzle only gives you a few of the questions and leaves the remainder of the puzzle unsolved? And, since when are those questions so easy? So foolproof?
“What’s wrong?” Wes says again. “Do you need to be medicated? Because I only brought my Pez along with me today.” He flashes me his SpongeBob dispenser.
“Watch your back,” I whisper, reading the crossword puzzle answers aloud.
“Okay, fine,” Wes snaps, taking his Pez offering back. “But a simple ‘no thank you’ would have sufficed.”
“You don’t understand,” I snap, holding the crossword puzzle out to him. “WATCH YOUR BACK.”
Wes tilts his head, trying to make sense of what I mean. “I guess, if you really read into it, but it could also be BACK WATCH YOUR, or YOUR BACK WATCH. Not to mention that there’s a huge hunk of the puzzle undone.”
I shake my head and tell him that Ben had written the same message across the cover of his notebook—that he’d sensed the phrase and couldn’t get it out of his head.
“What are you guys looking at?” Adam asks, standing just behind us now. He glances in the direction of his stack of mail, nearly half of which is already ransacked. But before he can squawk about it, I hold the crossword up to him.
“Where did you get this?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I get tons of junk from the student activities office.”
A second later, Adam’s cell phone rings. He picks it up. It’s Piper, he mouths to us. “Yes, I’ll be there,” he tells her.
While he continues his phone call in private, Kimmie snatches the crossword puzzle out of my hands. She takes a moment to look it over before glaring straight back at me. “Watch your back,” she whispers.
“Exactly,” I say.
“Let the games begin,” Wes sings. He pulls back the head of his Pez dispenser and downs the entire contents.
THE CROSSWORD PUZZLE is still clenched in Kimmie’s grip; I take it back, hoping that Ben might be able to sense something from it.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” Adam asks, finally flipping his phone shut.
I hold the puzzle out to him again. “You don’t think this looks off?”
“Not really,” he says, barely giving it a second look.
“Someone thinks you should watch your back.”
“No,” he says. “Someone thinks I have time to waste on crossword puzzles.”
“There’s more to it,” I insist.
“Why are you going through my mail?” he asks Wes.
“He wasn’t going through it,” I lie. “I saw the puzzle and filled it in.”
“And now you think someone’s out to get me?”
“I just think it’s weird,” I say, for lack of a better explanation.
“This whole scene is weird.” He looks at Kimmie and then back at me.
Part of me wants to tell him about my sculptures. Another part isn’t ready to expose what I know or how I know it.
“You haven’t received any other puzzles like this, have you?” I ask, thinking about the series of stalker photos I received last fall.
“Actually…” Adam grabs the garbage pail by his desk and starts to pick through the trash. He pulls out a ball of crumpled paper and tosses it to me.
I smooth it out against my stomach.
It’s another crossword puzzle, with the exact same shape as the one I just filled out, only there are different clues at the bottom.
“I got that one yesterday,” he says.
“And the other one today?” I ask.
He nods. “I think student activities must have some kind of game going on. They’re always sending out stuff like this. For the fall, it was a scavenger hunt, so that people could get used to the campus. Then, just before the holidays, they sent these paper-mitten cutout things, so that people would remember to donate.”
“Have any of your friends received crossword puzzles?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “We don’t normally discuss our junk mail.”
“Could you ask them anyway?”
“First, tell me what’s going on.”
I focus on the crumpled puzzle for a moment. I’m able to crack a couple of the clues right away: the words always and watching.
“You can call her a paranoid schizo all you want,” Kimmie says.
“God knows I do,” Wes mumbles.
“But the fact of the matter is that Camelia’s been through a lot,” she continues. “And so she likes to play it safe, especially when it comes to her friends.”
“Look, I appreciate your concern,” Adam says. “I really do. But—”
“But nothing,” I say, interrupting him. I stuff both crossword puzzles into my pocket and tell Kimmie and Wes it’s time to go.
ON THE RIDE BACK HOME, I grab a pen and resume the puzzle that Adam fished from the trash. It doesn’t take me long to finish it. Once again, the clues are pretty simple to solve. I write the answers in one straight line and work to unscramble the message.
“What’s the verdict?” Kimmie asks, peering back at me.
I stare down at the jumble of words. “I can’t quite tell yet.”
“Give us a clue,” Wes says. “I love puzzles.”
“That’s because you are one,” Kimmie jokes.
I read them the list of words: ARE, ALONE, YOU, NEVER, EYE, WATCHING, ALWAYS, AM.
Not five seconds later, Wes has the whole thing figured out: “YOU ARE NEVER ALONE, EYE AM ALWAYS WATCHING!” he says, making his voice all deep and throaty.
“Wait, seriously?” I ask, completely bewildered by the idea that he’d be able to unravel the message so quickly.
I look at the individual words, making sure they’re all included, and that he didn’t add any extra.
“What can I say? I’m good at puzzles.”
“Are you good at making them, too?” Kimmie asks. “Because it’s a little scary how you were able to figure that out so fast.”
“Do you think it matters that the ‘eye’ in the puzzle
is the noun and not the pronoun?” I ask them.
“Since when is it a requirement for psychos to be good in English?” Wes asks.
“Only you would know.” Kimmie glares at him.
“Plus, it’s a puzzle,” he says, ignoring her comment. “You have to expect a few quirks.”
“I don’t know,” I say, still staring at the words. “Maybe there’s some other message here. Maybe we need to try unscrambling it another way.”
“Such as ‘EYE AM NEVER ALONE. YOU ARE ALWAYS WATCHING,’” he suggests. “Or perhaps the ever-favorite ‘YOU ARE NEVER WATCHING. EYE AM ALWAYS ALONE.’”
Kimmie scoots farther away from him in her seat. “Okay, you really are starting to scare me.”
“I’m pretty sure you had it right the first time,” I say, flipping to the WATCH YOUR BACK puzzle and thinking how Ben had predicted the words.
I take a moment to study the paper the crosswords were done on. They’re bright white and of ample weight, making it clear the puzzles aren’t photocopies. I hold them up to my nose, curious to see if I can detect any scent.
“Um, what are you doing?” Wes asks, looking at me through his rearview mirror.
“They smell like candy,” I say.
“Well, they were in the garbage,” he points out. “At least, one of them was, and I could’ve sworn I spotted a Mr. Goodbar wrapper in there.”
“Why do you think this person would only give us a few of the puzzle clues?” I ask.
“Because they obviously want to string us along,” Wes says. “Feed us messages whenever they feel like it…keep us playing this stupid game.”
“You need to talk to Adam,” Kimmie says. “You need to tell him to take this seriously.”
“I agree,” I say, shoving the puzzles back into my pocket.
But first I need to talk to Ben.
As soon as Wes drops me off at home, I head up to my room to give Ben a call. He picks up right away, and I fill him in on what happened. “So, can you come over?” I ask, plopping down onto my bed. “I’d really like for you to try and sense something from the puzzles.”
“You know my senses aren’t always reliable with objects,” he says. “Plus, the crosswords have been in your pocket all this time. I’ll probably just sense you.”
“You could still give it a try,” I say, surprised at his hesitation.
It’s quiet on the line for several seconds, as if he’s trying to decide. “Can I call you later?” he asks. “My aunt wants me to have a look at the engine of her car.”
“I thought you were going to help me,” I say. “I thought we were a team.”
“I am. We are.”
“Then what’s with the brush-off?”
“It’s not a brush-off. I just have to go. Can I call you later?” he asks again.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. My heart suddenly feels heavy. I tell him I’m going to bed, and then wish him a good night before hanging up. The phone clenched firmly against my chest, it rings just moments after we disconnect. “Having second thoughts?” I say.
“How did you know?” Adam asks.
“Oh, sorry.” I press my eyes shut. “I guess I was kind of expecting someone else.”
“Someone like Ben?”
“I’m glad you called,” I say, ignoring the question.
“Yeah,” he says. “Me, too. You kind of got me thinking, aka paranoid, and so I sifted through some of the piles of papers and stuff on my desk. I knew I’d gotten some more of those puzzles in the mail.”
“And?”
“I was right. I found two more.”
“Did you try to solve them?”
“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about, but I think we should discuss it in person. I could come by and pick you up. We could go and grab a coffee or something.”
“No,” I demand. “Tell me now.”
“Well, the first puzzle I filled in didn’t really bother me too much,” he says. “It just said, ‘YOU LIED TO ME.’”
“And the second?” I ask, standing up, somehow already suspecting the answer.
“It said that I deserved to die.”
I TELL MY PARENTS that Adam’s picking me up and that we’re going to the Hayden College library to study together. Dad couldn’t be happier with the news. Once the star forward on his high school and college soccer teams, Dad has adored Adam—or at least, Adam’s former high school soccer stardom—ever since he first met him.
I grab my books and head out the door just as Adam’s ’70s Ford Bronco pulls in to the driveway, triggering the overhead sensor light. Ever since what happened last fall, my dad has made a feeble though still earnest attempt at safeguarding our place. He’s put stickers on all the windows and poked yard signs into the lawn, both of which claim that we have a security system (we don’t). He’s also installed motion-detector lights that go on and off pretty much whenever they feel like it.
“Thanks for coming out,” Adam says before opening the passenger-side door for me.
I climb inside. The interior smells like peppermint stick. “What about your meeting tonight with Piper?” I ask, suddenly remembering their marriage assignment.
“I think this is more important.”
I nod, noticing how good he looks in dark-washed jeans and a chest-hugging sweater.
It’s just the kind of thing Kimmie warned me about: “He’s totally going to get the wrong idea,” she said of our impromptu meeting tonight. I’d called her as soon as I got off the phone with him, as soon as I’d agreed to let him pick me up. “You know he’s going to use this as an opportunity to try and get back together with you.”
“I’m just trying to help him,” I told her. “I have no intention of anything shady.”
“Yes, but things happen, Ms. Chameleon. People are weak. Plus, how come you never mentioned how hot Adam is? I mean, honestly, that boy’s a scorcher.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“Oh, no? Have you told Ben that you’re going?”
“Ben’s too busy to care.”
“Would he care if Adam were lying to you about finding more crossword puzzles?”
“Um, what are you talking about?”
“Ever think this might be Adam’s way of bonding with you?” she asked. “Maybe he saw how concerned you were about him and thought pretending to have more puzzles was the ticket to getting your attention.”
“I don’t think that’s it.”
“But it’s possible,” she said, reminding me how Adam tricked me once before. “It’s also possible that—say, for the sake of argument, he did indeed find more puzzles—he’s merely faking his concern over them.”
“Seriously?” I asked, ever-awed by her corrupt and suspicious mind.
“Seriously possible,” she insisted.
Still, suspicious mind or not, by the end of our conversation, Kimmie finally agreed that it was a good idea I was going to meet him.
“So, where do you want to go?” Adam asks, turning to face me. His deep brown eyes match the color of his sweater.
“The library,” I say, assuming I’ll feel a tinge less guilty if we actually go along with the story I told my parents.
Adam doesn’t question the choice. He simply puts his car in drive and we arrive about fifteen minutes later.
The library is surprisingly full. Adam leads us through the stacks, mentioning how there are study rooms in the back where we can talk in private. He nods toward an open door, but before we even get there, someone calls out his name.
We turn to look. It’s Piper. She, Melissa, Janet, and Tray are sitting around a table, doing their homework. Janet waves, while Melissa shoots us a dirty look and Tray stays focused on his books, ignoring our existence.
“Busted,” Piper says, once we get to their table. Her arms are folded; she’s clearly ticked. “I thought you said you were too busy to work on our project.”
“I am. I did,” he says, flustered. “It’s sort of a long story.”
&
nbsp; “One that obviously involves minors.” Melissa snickers. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, little girl?”
“Don’t be like that,” Adam says to her.
“Like what?” she snaps. “Don’t be a scammer like you? Don’t stand people up? Don’t lead people on?”
“I thought we were all going to move past this,” Adam says.
Melissa gets up and stomps off. Meanwhile, Tray has yet to even look up from his book.
“We’ll talk later, okay?” Adam says to Piper.
“How about I come by your place and show you what I’ve done on the project?” she says. “I could bring over some late-night snacks….”
“Sounds good,” he says. We head into a study room and shut the door behind us.
“That was intense,” I say, my back pressed against the door.
“No,” he argues. “This is intense.” He pulls a couple of folded pieces of paper from his jacket pocket and tosses them onto the table.
I take one, noting the familiar creamy texture of the paper, and the same sweet scent. Before I can open it up, there’s a knock on the door. Adam goes to answer it.
Melissa is there. “This study room is actually taken,” she says, shoving a sheet of paper in his face—what I’m assuming is a reservation form.
“Since when?” Adam asks. “We just got here.”
“Since about two minutes ago.” She points out the time on the sheet. “I just reserved it. Go complain at the circulation desk.” She pushes past us into the room and begins spreading all her things out on the table.
“Let’s go,” Adam says. He hands me the other crossword puzzle, and we leave, ending up back in his Bronco.
“I’m sorry,” he says, smacking the steering wheel. “I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with everybody.”
“You pissed them off. It’s not exactly rocket science.”
“I didn’t know Tray was interested in her. He could’ve said something. Plus, I broke things off as soon as I found out.”
“And now Melissa’s bitter because of it.”
“Whatever,” he says, staring up at the ceiling.
I pull the crossword puzzles out of my pocket. They look exactly like the others, with the T-shape in the far right corner and the L-shape at the lower left.
Deadly Little Games Page 8