by D'Ann Burrow
“Looks like we got a sample of the paper today. The paper boy woke me up when it smacked against my window an hour ago. I couldn’t go back to sleep.” That explained the breakfast. “Thought you might like to read it too.”
“Sure.” I answered without much enthusiasm. I liked reading the entertainment section, but I doubt I’d find many announcements about New York casting in this one. I flipped it over, intending to skip to a new section, but the headline stopped me cold: Search for Missing Teen Enters Week Two
“Find something interesting?” Loretta plopped the plate of pancakes down in front of me, but I’d already lost my appetite.
“No.” I lied without a second thought. “I’m just looking for the entertainment news.”
8:20 a.m.
Government classroom
An unfamiliar woman stood behind Ms. Shelton’s desk in the government classroom. Since she was moving around the little area, picking up one thing or another at scared-hamster speed, she had substitute written all over her—not in a good way either, the nervous-out-of-her-mind kind of sub. Derek and Alex paused in the doorway just behind me, jostling for position. Their laughter indicated they’d noticed her too. I didn’t even want to know what they were planning.
Just as the bell rang, Tanner ran through the doorway, red-faced and still glistening with sweat. When he passed me, I could hear him still struggling to catch his breath.
“Mears really had it in for you today.” Dillon’s eyes widened, and his expression would have been appropriate for someone watching a man standing in front of a firing squad.
“I’m fine.” Tanner barely paused on the way to his desk.
“Seriously, dude. What’d you do? Run over his puppy?”
“No idea.” The back of Tanner’s neck was flushed almost as bright as his face.
The bell buzzed in the hallway, and the noise in the room lowered marginally. The substitute said something, but her words were lost in the conversations that still remained pep-rally-appropriate.
A ruler thwacked on the edge of the podium, drawing every pair of eyes to the front of the class. The substitute gave us a glare that the Sisters would have been jealous of—maybe she wasn’t as new as I thought.
“Thank you, class, for your attention.”
Her eyes darted toward someone who’d missed the be-quiet memo, and for half a breath, I thought she was going to throw the ruler her direction. But the sub settled for just letting the offending student feel the disdain of every other student in the classroom.
It didn’t work. This far into senior year, most of the class had developed a certain you-can’t-touch-me air.
“Lady in the back. Would you like to be responsible for the class taking the test Ms. Shelton left for y’all, or would you rather watch the movie the teacher next door selected?”
“Um. Movie.” The girl whose name I’d never bothered to learn answered with a hint of a question in her voice.
“Good choice.” The woman’s head bobbed in agreement, and for the first time, I noticed a name written at the top of the white board, Mrs. Porter. Mrs. Porter stepped out from behind her desk, crossed the room, and reached for the light switch. “Get some paper out. You’re going to want to take notes on this.”
The lights flicked out, and the room plunged into smoky darkness. Not quite fully black, but the sun was buried too deeply behind the ever-present clouds to make the room seem even slightly light.
I was dead meat.
I’d been unsettled since Loretta left the newspaper at the table for me, and last night sleep decided to play hide and seek. I never found it. Careful to keep my attention focused on the title flickering on the screen at the front of the room, I reached into my bag for my chewing gum. Yes, it was against the rules, but so was falling asleep in class. I unwrapped a piece, popped it into my mouth and prayed the mint would help me stay awake.
The movie probably wasn’t bad back when it was new, but that was when the hippie vibe was new for the first time. As the narrator droned on about voting rights and the difficulty minority voters faced, my eyelids grew heavy, and each blink seemed to last longer than the prior one. Finally, the room stayed dark.
But then a hint of light shone under a doorway.
I wasn’t in the classroom anymore. I definitely wasn’t tired. Instead, my nerves were so on edge that my skin hurt. My ears strained to hear a noise, any noise. The only sound was a faint metallic murmur in the distance.
A car? A truck? A passing delivery van?
I wanted to scream. I wanted to let someone know I was here. I wanted to spit whatever was crammed into my mouth onto the floor, but even an attempt at a yell made me almost vomit.
I’m here.
I’m here.
“I’m here!” I shouted into the room, earning a chorus of laughter from my classmates.
“God, Kennedy, she wasn’t calling roll.” Even my new status as Tanner’s girlfriend didn’t save me from Stacia. Of course, since she was still using every excuse she could think of to stand next to him—to be his partner in science, to accidentally brush into him in the hallway—that’s likely why she laughed the loudest. She exchanged a look with Nicole and shook her head in the kind of annoyed movement that was probably what royalty used when they were surveying the peasants.
“Try not to fall asleep again.” Mrs. Porter leaned over my shoulder in a stage whisper loud enough for everyone in class to hear.
“I’ll try.” I’d do better than try. I’d succeed. I had no desire to go back there again.
26
Complications
11:20 a.m.
* * *
I rubbed my shoulder while trying to look like I wasn’t rubbing my shoulder. Alex and his minions were behind me, and I suspected they were probably watching my every move. Since Coach Santos kept reminding the guys about the coach from USC coming to the game at the end of the month, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone behind me was in charge of taking pictures for evidence—anything to knock me out as starting quarterback. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Brock leaning forward, a curious expression on his face. God, not him too.
It was bad enough for Mears to have figured out my shoulder was never quite the same after I broke my collarbone in middle school. My mom forged the note from the physical therapist saying I was released to play. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t afford to pay any longer. No one had ever figured it out.
Not until last week. Mears’ lecture still rang in my ears. “The difference between playing ball and having a career playing ball isn’t injuries—it’s recovery. How well do you heal later? Everyone gets hurt, but not everyone puts the effort in to get back to 110%.”
I didn’t want a career playing ball—just the scholarship. I’d leave pro ball to guys like Alex who knew how to play the politics.
A muscle in my upper back tightened so hard and so fast, I almost dropped my pencil, but I forced myself not to flinch or to try to rub it. Even rolling my shoulder was off limits. I couldn’t wait to get to theater class.
I had to fight not to laugh at the thought. A month ago, I’d never have imagined even having a nightmare about being in theater, but now it was the one place I was safe from the guys on the team. They probably didn’t even know where the theater classroom was, much less have any desire to follow me there.
I looked back down at my math worksheet. I still had too much white space showing. Between extra practice to get ready for the homecoming game and the couple of lawn jobs I had lined up tonight, I didn’t have time for homework. I picked up my pencil and tried to concentrate.
The door to the classroom creaked open, and every eye turned to see if someone was about to put us out of our math misery. Mrs. Ross stood at the doorway, and a few people from my government class moaned. If we had to sit through her internet safety lecture again…
“Can I have Alex, please?” She spoke with a hesitancy I’d never heard in her voice before, like she really didn’t want him to co
me with her. Mr. Santos nodded once then signaled for Alex to follow the counselor. “Oh, and bring your things.”
Her face was Disney-princess pale. That was never a good sign.
By the time I made it into the theater classroom, thunder was rolling so loudly outside, it even shook the floor down in the dungeon. I really hoped I wasn’t turning into one of those old guys who could forecast bad weather by how much old injuries ached. I had to just be sore because of Mears’ insane conditioning schedule.
“Something wrong?” Kennedy stepped over my backpack and dropped her notebook onto her desk with a thud. None of the team might have been in the room to notice my attempt at massaging my shoulder, but she noticed.
“Nah. Just a few too many reps this morning.”
“Cool. Because your face looks like—” The lights flickered once, twice, three times before finally giving up against the intensity of the storm outside. I never found out what my face looked like. Kennedy whispered a word under her breath I’d never heard her use before, and I reached for her hand. I didn’t know she was scared of storms.
“Storm freaking you out?”
“No.” She denied the fear in her voice. Her head shook from side to side, and I could feel the tips of her hair brushing over the back of my arm. “We just don’t have storms like this back home.”
Home. There was that word again. She’d been here for weeks. I wondered when home would change from California to here. Then again, I’d rather say I was from San Diego than from this place that could hardly be considered big enough to be a town.
Light from a few camera screens began to light the room, and I could see a shadow of Kennedy’s face. She’d been on edge for days, even though she said she was fine.
I guess we both were lying.
“Crap!” Someone in the front row shouted, drawing almost instant hisses to be quiet.
“Language.” Ms. Whitmore’s voice drifted up from somewhere off on the side of the room. I hadn’t even seen her in the classroom before the lights went out. If we were at Harry Potter’s school, she would have been the creepy ghost that taught the drama class.
“That sucks.” Another voice shouted.
More and more students turned on their phones, and I was momentarily jealous. My mom always explained to Christian that not everyone could afford smart phones—they were a luxury—but it seemed like Kennedy and I were the only two in the class without the necessity.
“They found her.” The emphasis in the voice signaled the answer to my unspoken question. “Guess she makes it ten now.”
As much as I hated Alex, I felt bad for him. No wonder Mrs. Ross looked like she was about to be escorting him to the gas chamber or something. Did she tell him his cousin was dead or did she save that for his parents?
Still, I had to be sure. “Alex’s cousin?”
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever even spoken to that girl in class before.
“Kasey? The girl who was missing?” The girl answered with questions of her own. I’d forgotten that the football guys didn’t have the same amount of respect in this classroom, the theater people existed in their own world. “She’s Alex’s cousin?”
“You mean she was.” The guy next to her corrected. Subtle, really subtle. I’d never liked that jerk.
“Yeah, I guess I meant she was his cousin.”
“She’s dead?” Kennedy’s fingers tightened their grip on my hand.
“That’s enough, class.” Mrs. Whitmore tried to regain control of the room, but between the darkness from the storm and the news sparking morbidly excited discussions, it was a lost cause.
Just like I wouldn’t be doing any lawns tonight.
We’d be lucky if we could get any practice in on the field either.
Which might be a blessing in disguise. I actually had a few hours free tonight. “Go out for pizza with me tonight.” I thought about how much money was still in the jar, and I hoped Piello’s still did buy one get one free on Thursday nights.
“Tonight?” Kennedy seemed confused. “Don’t you have practice?”
“Not with the storm outside. Do you really want to eat dinner with Scarlett?”
“What time will you pick me up?”
27
Rule #185 - Rules were made to be broken
6:13 p.m.
Scarlett’s bathroom
* * *
If Ellie called tonight, I wouldn't admit just how much time I'd spent selecting my outfit to go out for pizza. Going out for yogurt last Saturday night somehow turned into going out for pizza tonight. In two weeks, I’d doubled the number of dates I’d been on in my entire life. Was two really the double of none? Now I was even confusing myself.
I glanced back at the mirror. Ellie. Thinking about my friend made a knot drop into the pit of my stomach. In the weeks I'd been here, we'd gone from texts almost every hour to just a nightly wrap up. Last night, she didn't send me a text. I didn't send her one either.
I wondered who she'd decided to make into her special project this year, who took my place as class vice president since she'd replaced me and who sat in my seat next to her at the cafeteria table.
And I still wondered what to wear for our date. The thought still confused me. I had a second date with Tanner. Tonight, I was going out for pizza with Cocky Lawn Dude.
I never saw this one coming.
Thankfully, the monsoon finally ended before we needed to do some kind of re-enactment of the flood in theater class yesterday. It seemed like half the roads in town were closed on the way to school. Maybe we wouldn’t even be able to get to the pizza place.
Based on snippets of Scarlett's conversations I'd overheard, Piello’s was the place everyone who was anyone hung out on the weekends. I wasn't really feeling like everyone being part of this date. Last week we’d gotten our yogurt to-go and eaten it in Tanner’s truck. I’d been spared the whispers as people wondered about our status.
But something felt different about tonight. Tanner had picked the most popular place in town. Well, one of the only places in town. And he’d already told me we were eating there. As if his hand linked with mine as we walked through the school wasn’t a visible enough sign, tonight we were making a statement.
We were together.
Together together.
I studied the short skirt and t-shirt in my full-length mirror. No. I looked like something out of a private-school-girl-gone-bad movie. This wasn't going to cut it. I closed my eyes, concentrated on what Scarlett wore to the movies with Brock last Friday night and pulled the closest thing to the exact opposite out of my closet.
I'd managed to change into a pair of artfully faded and purposefully worn jeans Ellie had sent me when she heard that I was staying. I believe her exact message was, “There's no reason you can't still have some California style in your wardrobe.”
I hadn't worn anything like these jeans while I lived in California. But I had to admit, I think the look worked for me, especially for a casual date—emphasis on the casual.
A familiar but unexpected screech stirred up the chickens in the yard. Less than thirty seconds later, the doorbell rang. I could have sworn Tanner said he'd be by around two.
I jogged down the stairs, but Loretta beat me to the door. "Why hello there, Tanner. Aren't you a little early?"
"I'm not exactly ready." I had a string of apologies, explanations and delay tactics on the tip of my tongue, but I realized he wasn't even looking at me. Instead, he was half bending over, his face red and his hands braced against his thighs.
He raised his head, and his eyes bulged in full panic mode. "I need your help," he panted, slowly standing up.
That's when I noticed the sweat streaming down his cheeks. After two solid weeks of rain, I'd gotten used to everything being wet all the time. But it wasn't raining. He was in good shape. What had he been doing to be sweating that hard?
He read my mind. "It's Addy. She's missing."
"Are you sure?” Aunt Loretta motioned for him to come
inside, and Tanner initially resisted, but she was stronger than she looked. One good tug on his arm and he was in the foyer. She closed the door behind him.
"What happened?”
Tanner turned in my direction, and I almost regretted asking. The carefully controlled rage I hadn't noticed before threatened to explode.
"Christian was watching her. Or he was supposed to be. And the damn cell tower's down. We couldn't call for help. Mom's on her way into town to get the sheriff."
No wonder Scarlett's phone hadn't rung all day.
I sensed there was more to the story, but I wasn't going to get it right now. I understood . Right now he was only thinking about finding Addy. "Any ideas where she might have gone?"
"We already looked all around the house. We thought she might just be hiding or something. She does that sometimes. But we saw fresh cat footprints in the mud. Addy loves that cat.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "I've gotta get back. Can you come help?"
Aunt Loretta spun to face me. The stony look on in her eyes made my heart jump. I'd only seen that expression once before, and it was on my mom's face. Tanner’s panic was rolling off him in waves. He wasn't in the mood for some kind of family showdown. Neither was I. I didn't know what I'd done to earn that kind of glare.
My aunt inclined her head toward the young man who’d helped me survive my first tumultuous weeks at school, the guy who was supposed to be my date in a few hours, the friend who desperately needed my help. As he paced in the doorway, he was clearly just centimeters from plunging over the edge into full-blown hysteria. "Is one of y'all going to come with me?"
“Kennedy can help you find your sister, Tanner.” Her voice was as clear, cool and certain as my father's was when he addressed members of his team. And it terrified me.