6 Comments
ApRilzDay said …
It sounds like something you’re trying to convince yourself of. Like you don’t really believe you’re that cold and uncaring. Aren’t you worried that if you stop caring you’ll just become hollow and bitter? Maybe Lucy deserved to be knocked down a few pegs. But did she really deserve to disappear? If she’s been gone three days, something bad really might have happened!
Str-S-d said …
You don’t know how it feels to be tormented.
IaMnEmEsIs said …
There is justice in tormenting the tormentor.
Realgurl4013 said …
I sooo agreee.
Tony2theman said …
Sounds like that Lucy chick could be pushin’ up daisies.
IaMnEmEsIs said …
Soon.
chapter 8
Wednesday 6:42 A.M.
“WE JUST WANT Lucy back unharmed.” The familiar voice came from the kitchen the next morning. It was Dr. Cunningham. Why is he in our kitchen? I wondered as I trudged through the doorway, still half asleep. But inside I saw that it was only his face on the TV.
Mom was sitting at the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee, watching. On the TV, Lucy’s dad, usually meticulously neat and groomed, looked haggard and unshaven with bags under his eyes. “If you have information that will help us get our daughter, Lucy, back, we will pay one hundred thousand dollars, no questions asked. If you are the person who has Lucy, I urge you to get in touch and tell us what you want. We are willing to negotiate. Lucy, if you’re watching this, we love you and will do everything in our power to get you home again.”
“Those poor, poor people.” Mom’s words were heavy with angst. “Your heart absolutely goes out to them.”
Outside, rain poured down from the gray sky. The Sound was choppy, and a pair of gulls hovered in the wind. The TV screen cut to the local morning news anchor with a photograph of Lucy behind him. “It’s been four days since seventeen-year-old Lucy Cunningham of Soundview disappeared without a trace. Police admit they have no leads. As you just saw, the Cunningham family is offering a one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to her safe return.”
The scene switched to the outside of the Soundview police station, where a reporter wearing a red rain slicker and holding a microphone said, “Police here in Soundview say the investigation is ongoing. Ms. Cunningham is the daughter of a well-known cardiologist, and people close to the investigation say kidnapping is a possibility, but so far no one has demanded a ransom.”
The screen cut back to the news anchor and his blonde co-anchor. “Sounds like this is a situation where you almost hope she has been kidnapped.”
The blonde co-anchor nodded in agreement. “You mean, because that’s the lesser of several evils?”
“Exactly,” the anchor said with a pensive nod, and then turned to the camera again. “In other news …”
My stomach began to hurt. Ever since I’d been little, I’d gotten stomachaches whenever I felt anxious or worried. I could feel one coming, and crossed my arms over my stomach and bent forward.
Mom reached forward and brushed some hairs off my forehead. She gave me a searching, concerned look. “Maybe you should stay home today.”
The suggestion surprised me. Usually, when I got a stomachache, Mom encouraged me to tough it out. “But—” I said.
“I know it doesn’t make complete sense, but I’d just as soon you stayed home,” Mom said patiently. “I don’t think it will hurt you to miss one day.”
“You’re … worried?”
She nodded. “It looks like they think it might be a kidnapping. I know they aren’t sure—and that it’s extremely unlikely that, if it is a kidnapping, the kidnappers would strike again in the same place. But I think there are times when you can’t be too careful. Times when it’s best to err on the side of caution. I’m sure your father would feel the same way.”
We agreed that I’d skip school. Later, Mom left for a meeting in the city and I went upstairs and slept for another hour. When I woke, my stomachache had vanished. I did some schoolwork and fooled around on the computer for a while, but something in my head was nagging me to go back downstairs.
In the kitchen I made a mug of peppermint tea and turned on the TV. The local channel repeated the morning show half a dozen times during the day, and it wasn’t long before I was once again watching the segment with Lucy’s dad offering the reward for her safe return. As Mom had said, kidnapping was a possibility. It seemed so crazy and unreal. These kinds of things just didn’t happen here.
I sipped the tea and turned the TV off. My thoughts wandered, and whenever that happened lately, Tyler was waiting nearby. Why, the day before, had he said that everything happens for a reason? Was he just trying to appear cool and mysterious? And that reminded me of how Ms. Skelling had ripped into me about leaving Lucy on the street outside her house. What a mean thing to do. Did she think I didn’t already feel bad enough without having to make me feel worse? And that made me think of Courtney, who’d popped up so quickly from her seat after the meeting and vanished into the hall before I could find her. Why had she done that? Did it have something to do with Adam? Why did I feel like everyone had secrets? Was that true, or was I just being paranoid?
I looked up at the clock. At school, fifth period would be ending in a few moments. Courtney would be going to study hall, a class she could always be late for. I sent her a text: ?4U
Normally, she would hit me right back.
I waited.
No reply.
On any other day I might have assumed the message hadn’t gone through, or maybe her phone had died. But today I had to wonder. Was she ignoring me?
I sent a second text: PTM. Please text me.
But she didn’t.
I finished the tea and felt a weird combination of anxiety and boredom. I’d told Mom I wouldn’t go to school, but I hadn’t said I wouldn’t leave the house. Besides, it was day, not the middle of the night when bad things happened. Even Mom had said that it was highly unlikely that kidnappers would strike twice. And it seemed even more unlikely that they’d do it in the middle of the day.
School would be ending soon. By now Courtney had had plenty of time to answer my texts. I could only assume that she was ignoring me. But she was supposed to be my closest friend. If that was no longer the case, I wanted to know.
I got dressed and went out. The air was cold and damp and there were puddles in the driveway, but at least it had stopped raining. It was hard to know where Courtney would go after school. Sometimes she went into town and hung out at the Starbucks. Sometimes she went to the mall, or to one of her other friend’s houses. Most of the time she didn’t go home until dinner.
After deciding that the best place to find her after dismissal would be near school, I drove over and parked a few blocks away. Pulling my hoodie tight around my head, I stood at the bus stop. It wasn’t long before the front doors opened and kids began flooding out.
Courtney came out alone, her red backpack slung over one shoulder, her long black hair with those streaks of pink and blonde dancing. Since she was alone, I assumed she wasn’t going to a friend’s house. That was good news, because it meant she would pass me on the way to town or the mall.
But instead of making a right at the bottom of the steps, she made a left. That was bad news, because to catch up to her I’d have to walk right past school.
Hoping that no one would recognize me, I started down the sidewalk. Courtney was walking fast, which was totally not like her. I wondered if she was going to meet someone. Rather than rush to catch up, I hung back and decided to see.
She turned right on the next block, entering the residential neighborhood closest to the school. This was one of the older neighborhoods in town, and not many kids we knew lived there. Where was she going? At the next corner she turned left. By now it was just me and her on the sidewalk.
As she walked, she took out a
compact and checked her makeup. Now I was certain she was meeting someone. It was all so strange to me. I thought I knew almost everything about her. Could she really have a secret life I knew nothing about?
At the next corner she turned right and started to speed up. I practically had to jog to keep her in sight. Then she looked back at me and started to run.
I started to run after her. Every twenty feet she would look back at me. Suddenly I realized what was happening. She knew someone was following her, but with my hoodie on, she didn’t know who it was. I pulled the hood back and called, “Courts, wait! It’s me, Madison!”
Courtney looked back and stopped. She bent over and placed her hands on her thighs. As I got closer, I could see that she was panting for breath. “You scared … the crap out of me.”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“What … are you doing? Why … were you following me?”
“I came to school to find out why you weren’t answering my texts.”
Courtney kept panting. “Why weren’t … you in school today?”
“Mom saw Lucy’s dad on TV this morning offering a reward for her return. It freaked her out. I mean, the whole idea that Lucy might have been kidnapped. She wanted me to stay home.”
Courtney nodded and straightened up. She breathed deeply and ran her fingers through her long black hair.
“Who were you going to meet?” I asked.
“No one.”
“A few moments ago you were checking your makeup in your mirror,” I said.
“A few moments ago I was looking in my mirror to figure out who was following me. For God’s sake, Madison, you totally scared the crap out of me.”
“Yes, you already told me that.”
We stared at each other. It felt like we’d reached a stalemate. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?” I asked.
Courtney looked around. “How’d you get here?”
“My car. It’s parked back on Rosewood.”
“Give me a ride to Starbucks?” she asked.
“Aren’t you going somewhere?”
“I just want some coffee.”
“When did it start?” I asked twenty minutes later as we sat at a small table inside Starbucks. Courtney had just admitted to me that she’d been seeing Adam on the down low. Based on the way she’d been acting, I should have guessed, but I hadn’t. In fact, I was totally blown away. Courtney propped her elbows on the table and cupped the double latte I’d bought her in both hands, as if using it to warm them.
“Junior prom.”
I stared at her in astonishment. “Last year?”
“Shhhhh!” She hushed me and her eyes darted left and right at the other kids sitting around tables and at the counter. “It’s been on and off.”
“But why?”
“Why has it been on and off? Or why did I do it?”
“The latter.”
Courtney raised and dropped her shoulders. “He’s a studmuffin.” As if it was that simple. As if Adam wasn’t Lucy’s boyfriend. As if this wasn’t about the most scandalous thing I’d ever known her to do.
“There are lots of other muffins,” I said. “I think you’ll have to do better than that.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why do you care?”
“For one thing, I thought we were friends. I thought we told each other everything.”
Courtney sipped the latte and licked some foam off her upper lip. “You used to be best friends with Lucy.”
Now I understood. “You thought I’d tell her?”
“I don’t know. You’re also friends with Adam. It was complicated. And he doesn’t want anyone to know, either.”
“If he likes you, why didn’t he just break up with her?”
“He was going to. I think that’s what that fight on Saturday night was about. But you know Lucy. It wasn’t like she’d just let him dump her without making a huge stink.”
Then there was indeed a reason why Lucy might have decided to run away, or do something else that people would think of as extreme. “Do the Cunninghams know that it wasn’t just a fight? That Adam was planning to actually break up with Lucy?”
Courtney frowned. “How would I know?”
Suddenly I realized something. “I have to talk to Adam.”
“Why?”
“Because Lucy is the most competitive person I know. Adam breaking up with her is exactly the kind of thing that could make her snap. The Cunninghams have to be told about this.”
“Do they have to know that I was involved?” Courtney asked.
I thought for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.” I started to get up.
“Where are you going?” Courtney asked.
“I told you. I have to speak to Adam.”
“So call him.”
“No, Courts, this is something I have to do in person. Come on, I’ll give you a ride home.”
She heaved a big sigh, as if she thought I was making more out of it than necessary. But I was certain she was wrong.
“So,” I said a few moments later in the car. “Back to my original question. Why Adam?”
Courtney gazed out the side window and didn’t answer. I had a feeling she was fed up with me. If my intention back at Starbucks had been to patch things up, I’d done a really bad job. Now I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I just knew I didn’t want to leave everything unresolved. We were getting close to her house, and I pulled off to the side of the road.
“What are you doing?” Courtney asked, sounding very annoyed.
“Waiting for an answer.”
“I thought you were in a big rush to go see Adam.”
“Is it really going to take that long to tell me?”
Once again Courtney rolled her eyes as if I’d just taken her to a new height in exasperation. “What is your problem?”
“Look, I can understand why you didn’t want to tell me about Adam before. But now that I know, why can’t you say why? I mean, if you were just looking to hook up, there are plenty of other studmuffins you could have chosen.”
Courtney stared at me. “Ohmygod! Are you jealous?”
“No. I’m just … I don’t know. Maybe I feel protective of him. We’ve been friends for so long.”
“You don’t own him.”
“I think I’m aware of that,” I said. “And he and you and everyone else is free to do whatever they want. But seriously, Courts? Why Adam?”
My friend rapped her deep-purple nails against the Starbucks cup that she’d brought into the car with her. Suddenly she reached for the door handle and yanked. The next thing I knew, she grabbed her bag from the back and got out. “Thanks for the ride and the coffee. I can walk the rest of the way from here.”
chapter 9
Wednesday 3:31 P.M.
Oh, dear, Lucy, look at you, huddled in the corner with your arms around your knees. You are looking awfully gaunt and dirty. You do look thinner. It’s so sad. Lack of water and food will wreck havoc on your beautiful figure. Oh, Lucy, just imagine yourself without your perfect figure. What a tragedy it would be to look just like the rest of us.
Are you shivering? Well, it has gotten colder, hasn’t it? And all this rain. What’s this? Look at your arms and legs. Scratching yourself until you’re bloody? How odd. Was that something your medications were supposed to prevent? Or are you just trying to show us that you’re repenting? Repent all you want, my dear. We’re sorry, but it won’t bring you salvation.
* * *
ONE DAY WHEN Adam and I were seven, we played doctor. Ever since then, we’d teased each other about whose idea it had been, each of us claiming we’d been talked into it by the other. But the truth, at least as I recalled, was that we’d both been willing participants. And it was a secret we’d never shared with anyone else.
I don’t know if that was what helped me feel comfortable with him, but he was always more like a brother or a cousin to me. Someone I knew I could trust and depend on to do the right thing.
> The Pinters lived in a large old house with a brook running behind it. Even though it was cold and damp from the earlier rain, Adam’s younger brothers were out in the driveway playing basketball. They paused and briefly stared at me when I parked down the driveway. Then they went back to playing ball. They seemed used to girls coming by to see their older brother.
I went up to the front door and rang the bell. A few moments later I heard Mrs. Pinter cautiously ask, “Who’s there?”
“Hi, Mrs. Pinter, it’s Madison.”
The door opened. Given the size of her sons, Mrs. Pinter was a surprisingly small person with dark hair coiffed in a slightly old-fashioned way. She smiled. “Madison, what a surprise. How are you?”
I shrugged and forced something that was supposed to resemble cheer on my face. “I don’t know. Okay, I guess.”
“I understand,” Adam’s mom said, her smile fading. “He’s in his room.”
I took the stairs up. A large, bright yellow YIELD sign hung on Adam’s door. I knocked.
“Yeah?”
“It’s Madison.”
A chair creaked. Adam came to the door wearing jeans, a hoodie, and a scowl. His eyes were still puffy and darkly ringed. “Were you at school today?”
“Took a mental-health day.” I lowered my voice. “I have to talk to you about something, and I didn’t feel comfortable doing it over the phone.”
Adam opened the door wider and stepped back, allowing me in. On the floor, along with the weights, was a pile of SAT-prep manuals. I sat down on the bed. “Courtney told me about you and her, and that you were planning on breaking up with Lucy. Do the Cunninghams know?”
Adam’s eyes widened with astonishment. Then he hung his head. “Yeah. I didn’t want to tell them, but I had to.”
Wish You Were Dead Page 5