Lurker

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Lurker Page 7

by Stefan Petrucha

She got up from her seat on the bench beside Drew and walked to the bed, where she picked up her handbag. Returning to the bench, she sat down and placed the bag in her lap. From it, she pulled a small handgun out by the grip, dangling the weapon between her thumb and forefinger like it was a piece of smelly trash.

  Both Drew and Mandy pulled back in shock. Drew covered her mouth with a palm, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  “What are you doing with that?” Mandy asked angrily, hating the sight of the gun.

  “A gift from Dad,” Laurel said, still dangling the thing between her fingers. “It’s not loaded yet. He won’t give me the clip until I take lessons, so guess how I’m spending the next three Saturdays?”

  “Why didn’t you tell him you didn’t want it?”

  “God, I’d never have a gun,” Drew said.

  “Yeah, well, it was take it from him or spend the rest of my life in my room. I figured this was the lesser of two stupids. In a few weeks, he’ll chill out, and I can shove it in a box in the basement. Until then, I’m packin’, girls. So, don’t be dissin’me or I’ll pop a cap in your asses.”

  “That’s so not funny,” Mandy said.

  “Totally not,” Drew agreed.

  Laurel laughed and dropped the gun back in her bag. “You know I’m anti-gun. As soon as I can rid myself of it, I will.”

  “Your dad’s really worried about you,” Drew said, sounding jealous.

  Mandy knew that Drew’s dad was pretty much nonexistent. Including the candlelight vigil, Mandy could count the number of times she’d seen him on her fingers. He worked a lot; he’d struggled to raise Drew and her brothers on his own ever since his wife had run off to “find herself.” That had been ten years ago. Apparently, Drew’s mom was still lost, and so was Drew.

  “My dad’s a whack job. What kind of dork gives his teenage daughter a gun? I’ve been asking for a car for the last two years, but instead of a Beamer, I get an Uzi.”

  “Just keep it in your bag,” Mandy said, “and don’t go telling everyone you have it.”

  “Right, because nothing makes you more popular than fire power. I’m not telling anyone except you guys.”

  The next surprise on that Thursday afternoon was for Drew. In a lot of ways, it was even more shocking than Laurel’s gun show.

  A ring tone had them all scrambling for their cell phones, until Drew announced, “That’s mine.” She looked at the caller ID before answering and turned as white as a ghost. “Oh my God!”

  “What is it?” Mandy asked, thinking it had to be something terrible.

  But just as she asked the question, a wide nervous smile cut across Drew’s lips. “It’s Jacob,” she said, her voice a high squeal. “My God, Jacob Lurie is calling me.”

  “Why do I think you had something to do with this?” Mandy whispered to Laurel.

  On the other side of the room, pressed into the corner, twirling her hair with a finger and clutching the cell phone to her head, Drew nodded and said, “Sure.”

  Laurel leaned closer and said, “I figured this was the only way to shut her up about him. Besides, he likes her too.”

  “I thought you hated Jacob.”

  “Hate is such a strong word. I just feel better when I don’t have to look at him. Drew’s the one that’s got to go out with him, not me.”

  Mandy nudged Laurel, knowing she was being far nicer to Drew than she’d ever admit. She’d never seen Drew so excited, though something or another often excited Drew. This was a good excited, a happy excited.

  “Oh God,” Drew gushed into the phone. “I know! It’s totally like that.”

  “You realize we’re going to hear about nothing else for the rest of our lives, right?” Mandy said.

  Laurel’s face scrunched dramatically in a pretended expression of sorrow. “I know. God help me, I know.”

  Mandy didn’t know exactly what to make of the last two surprises of the day. After gushing and babbling about Jacob’s call (We’re going to a movie tomorrow. God, I have to buy an outfit.) Drew left in a fidgeting swirl of exhilaration. Laurel, whose father still insisted she be home before dark, left with her.

  Alone, with another hour before her mom got home, and nearly two before her father would appear, Mandy signed online and immediately searched her buddy list for Kyle’s handle. Disappointed that it wasn’t there, she checked her e-mails. When her doorbell rang again, she was reading an announcement from Trinity King, head of the yearbook committee, informing the student body that they were dedicating a full-page memorial to Nicki Bennington. As such, they needed photographs and suggestions for text.

  The doorbell rang. Mandy rose from her chair to look out the window, and was surprised to see a large green van in her driveway. A bouquet of flowers was painted on the side of the van. Beneath this, GREEN GUY FLORISTS was written in large white letters.

  Flowers? she thought.

  The doorbell rang again. With the thrill of anticipation urging her on, Mandy ran down the stairs, her hand hopping down the banister as she rushed for the door. She got there just as the deliveryman rang a third time.

  Mandy opened the door and gasped. The man, a roly-poly guy with thinning red hair, held a simple vase from which sprouted two dozen red roses amid a spray of baby’s breath.

  “Mandy Collins?” the man asked.

  “Yes,” she said, barely able to speak for the knot in her throat.

  “You have an admirer.” The man handed her the vase and made a check on his clipboard. “Have a nice afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” Mandy said, closing the door.

  She filled her eyes and nose with the wonderful flowers, holding the vase tightly so she didn’t drop the gift. “Beautiful,” she whispered. In the kitchen, she set the vase down on the counter and searched for a card. Kyle sent her these. She just knew it. She didn’t know how he found her address—probably just looked up Collins in the phone book—but it didn’t matter. He sent her flowers, beautiful roses. Holding the small envelope, her nervous fingers fumbled with the flap. Finally getting it open, she yanked at the card…

  And her heart sank a little.

  I’m really sorry. Dale.

  Disappointed and annoyed that he would finally do something romantic after she dumped him, Mandy carried the flowers upstairs and set them on the windowsill. Afternoon light kissed the petals and made the water-filled vase glow. What a creep, she thought, staring at the bouquet. What was she supposed to do now? Just ignore the gesture, move on, never mention it? Or did she have to be polite, thank him? Wouldn’t that just make things harder?

  “Crap,” she said to the flowers. “Beautiful crap.”

  “Grind them up in the food processor and drop the mess on his doorstep,” Laurel said over the phone. “Too little, too late. Next!”

  “I’ll leave those kind of dramatics to you and Drew.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” Laurel asked.

  “I don’t know. That’s why I called you.”

  “Are you going to tell Kyle?”

  “God no. This has nothing to do with him.”

  Mandy looked at her computer screen, more precisely at her buddy list window. Kyle still wasn’t signed on. She really wanted to chat with him. He always made her feel calm and cool. Great. The one night she really needed to chat, and he pulls a vanishing act. Where are you?

  “So, that just leaves dealing with Dale, and you’ve already dealt with Dale.”

  “So, you don’t think I should call and thank him? I mean, it’s a pretty big deal if you think about it.”

  “Big deal? His daddy’s got more scratch than Puffy. He could send you a car, and it wouldn’t be a big deal to him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still got some lesson to learn.”

  “Okay, L,” Mandy said. “Jeez, I thought you liked Dale.”

  “Dale is fine, as in fine face, fine bod, and financially secure, but he treated you wrong. You did the right thing. You gotta look out for yourself.”

  Later in the ev
ening, near eleven, Mandy shut down her computer. The last surprise of the day was that Kyle never signed on. He never even wrote her an e-mail. She went to bed worried she’d done or said something to make him mad. That was silly, of course. She didn’t do anything. The last time they chatted, he was in a good mood, only signing off because his mom needed him for something.

  But you mentioned talking on the phone, Mandy thought. He made a couple of jokes, then suddenly had to go. Was there a reason he didn’t want to talk to her, something about his voice? Maybe he sounded like Mickey Mouse. She didn’t know, but the question ran through her mind and, like a lullaby, carried her off to sleep.

  8

  Friday was just awful for Mandy. She woke up expecting to find an e-mail from Kyle, but her inbox only harbored spam and five notes from Drew, all about the date she was having with Jacob. After the third e-mail—OMG. I STILL can’t believe this!—Mandy signed off and got ready for school.

  After nine days, most things at Lake Crest, while not back to normal, were at least tolerable. Classes returned to being informational, if not interesting, and her friends were in high spirits, Drew especially. Still, for Mandy it was horrible. She spent the whole day ducking her head when she saw Dale, scurrying down hallways that took her to places she didn’t need to be, and once even hiding in the girls’ restroom when she spotted him down the hall.

  Fortunately, they didn’t share any classes. It didn’t make the day easy, just easier. Nothing was going to make the day easy.

  During her free period, Mandy went outside for some air. The crush of students in the halls, the fear of seeing Dale again, was just too much to handle. The sun shone brightly, though the day was chill. She hugged herself and walked around the main building, past the niche in the wall where the smokers gathered, toward the “Patio.”

  The Patio was a broad slab of white concrete. There were about a dozen tables surrounded by metal chairs. During good weather a lot of kids ate their lunch there, but it was getting cooler and the area was pretty much abandoned until spring came. That’s why Mandy was surprised to see a handful of students gathered at a single table. Fiona Charlotte, a senior girl who was usually ignored, paced beside the table. She was moving her hands frantically while the other kids watched her.

  “…totally like Jack the Ripper,” Mandy heard Fiona say as she approached.

  “You mean he took her ovaries and junk?” Tim Wayland asked.

  “No,” Fiona said excitedly, all but dancing on the concrete. “He didn’t take anything. He’s not a collector, that’s what my dad calls them. But he like…played with stuff. Moved stuff, you know?”

  “Jack the Ripper took their ovaries and junk,” Tim said, as if he hadn’t made his point clear the first time.

  “Whatever!” Fiona replied. “I’m just saying Nicki was totally messed up…inside. Okay? It was like he cut her open and did all of this gross stuff. She was totally butchered.”

  Mandy’s stomach clenched, disgusted by Fiona’s performance. A thick lump lodged in her throat, and she held herself tighter.

  “Like what?” Ian Page asked. He sounded eager, like Fiona was describing a sexual event. The knot in Mandy’s stomach rolled.

  How could they do this? How could they talk about Nicki like she was some distant celebrity whose tragedy was nothing more than entertainment?

  “He squeezed some of the organs,” Fiona said. “Like squeezed them till they popped. My dad said it was a total mess in there. Just soup.”

  “Ohhhhh nasty,” Ian said with a laugh. “Nicki stew.”

  The other kids laughed nervously, some lowered their heads and shook them back and forth. “Totally!” Fiona exclaimed. “My dad’s been on the police force for like a million years, and he said he’s never seen anything this full-on gross.”

  Mandy backed away from the table and her excited classmates. They were awful. God, they were just so awful. She turned and ran back to the front of school, tears brimming in her eyes.

  After school, Mandy and her friends went to Bodyworks. She wanted to get Fiona Charlotte’s cruel and amused voice out of her head. Cut. Butchered. Totally Jack the Ripper. She didn’t say a word to Laurel or Drew, because she just wanted to forget, though she doubted she ever would.

  She was totally butchered.

  They changed into their workout clothes and met at the elliptical machines. Once they programmed their routines, Drew dove into exercise and pumped her legs like her life depended on it.

  “Do you think I could lose like ten pounds if I just kept running until my date with Jacob?”

  “Cutting off your head would do it,” Laurel said.

  Mandy winced at the comment.

  “I just wish I had more time to get ready,” Drew said, panting now. “I so wasn’t expecting him to call.”

  “Well, your ass wasn’t too fat for him to call in the first place, so it probably isn’t too fat now,” Laurel said.

  “What if he hates me?” Drew asked.

  “He won’t hate you,” Mandy said, rolling her eyes.

  “No more than anybody else,” Laurel added.

  “You’re so mean,” Drew said, a drop of sweat rolling down her cheek. “I mean, I’m about to have a total nervous breakdown, and you’re all bitchy. It’s only like the most important thing to me ever.”

  “It’s just a date,” Laurel said. “Quit hemorrhaging. He likes you. And hell, at least you get to go out. I have to stay home with Dad and clean my gun.”

  Mandy and Drew just shook their heads.

  After twenty minutes, Mandy was exhausted and Drew looked like she’d just stepped out of a shower. Laurel announced it was time for abs, and Mandy groaned. She was so tired. Last night was rough. Asleep, she’d had terrible dreams. Awake, she’d worried what to do about Dale and Kyle. And the fear was back. The fear she’d felt in the days following Nicki’s death had returned, thanks to Fiona.

  He said he’s never seen anything this full-on gross.

  “You guys have to meet,” Laurel said, startling Mandy. “Unless you just don’t want to, and then you have to delete him, because you can’t chat forever.”

  “I know.”

  “Has Kyle asked you to meet?” Drew asked, finishing her crunches and dropping back to the mat.

  “No,” Mandy said. “Do you think that’s weird?”

  “Right now, everything is weird, and I’m lookin’ out for my girls. Don’t want you gettin’ in too deep with Mr. I-don’t-think-so. If he doesn’t want to meet, then he’s got glitches. Best to find out early so you aren’t all English Patient with him.”

  “She’s right,” Drew said. “You should make sure.”

  “Oh, now listen to her,” Laurel said, her voice high and amused. “She’s going on her first date in like two years, and she’s all knowledgeable.”

  “God, Laurel, I’m just agreeing with you. Check your meds.”

  “Yeah,” Mandy said. “You’re right. Next time we chat, I’ll ask.”

  “Good,” Laurel said, springing to her feet. “Let’s go work lats.”

  After the workout, with no time for the juice bar that afternoon, the three girls gathered in the parking lot. Laurel continued to make jokes at Drew’s expense, and Mandy found herself tiring of the banter. All she wanted to do was go home, log on, and have a quiet night chatting with Kyle. (If he’s even online tonight.) But Drew’s anxiety over her impending date and Laurel’s overpossessive father worked together to cancel Mandy’s plan.

  “You have to help me get ready,” Drew said. “What if I go out and meet Jacob and I’ve got like a huge stain on the butt of my dress or something?”

  “Help her out,” Laurel said. “I’d do it, but if I’m not home in twenty minutes, Dad is going to blow a vein.”

  “All right,” Mandy said. Her lackluster response brought a frown from Drew.

  This is a huge deal to her, Mandy thought, feeling bad. If Kyle is online, he’ll still be there when I get home.

  Mandy put
on a big smile and arched her eyebrows. “Quit moping,” she told Drew. “This is the biggest night of your life, and we’ve got to make you fabulous. Frown lines are not fabulous, so knock it off.”

  Seeing that Mandy was finally taking her date with Jacob seriously, Drew smiled wide and switched into hyperdrive. “I’ve got to shower again, do my hair, and you have to pick an outfit for me because, God, I hate everything I have.”

  Drew had already set off across the parking lot, speaking more to herself than to either Laurel or Mandy. Her hands danced around her head as she emphasized all of the things she needed to do before meeting Jacob.

  “Once you get our girl set up, why don’t you come chill at my place?” Laurel asked. “We can watch some screen, eat some pizza.”

  “You’re not going to let me say no, are you?” Mandy asked.

  “Oh, so now it’s like some huge favor to hang out with the glamorous L?”

  “It’s not that. I wanted to chat with Kyle tonight, you know?”

  “I have a computer,” Laurel reminded. “In fact, I have the computer. Makes yours look like a dusty old adding machine. Besides, I might have a few words of my own for that man of yours.”

  After a shower, Mandy helped get Drew’s hair to lie right, and then slapped at her hands every time Drew reached up to fiddle with it. She gave makeup tips, having Drew ease up on the eye shadow but insisting she give her lashes another pass with the mascara brush. Then, they rummaged through Drew’s closet for the right clothes. Drew wanted to wear a nasty green dress that made her look like a cheap hooker. Instead, Mandy put together an outfit with a black blouse and snug khaki slacks that made her look amazing.

  “And wear a low heel. You don’t know if you’re going to be doing a lot of walking or not.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “Was there a particular reason you were trying to cultivate the ho look?”

  Drew turned away from the mirror, feigning shock. She laughed and slapped at Mandy’s shoulder. “I wasn’t going to look like a whore. I just want him to like the way I look.”

 

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