Snared wd-3

by Stefan Petrucha

  Before she knew it, she was climbing over the sill. Once her shoulders were well into the room, Mark grabbed her gently and pulled her the rest of the way. She glided over his desk and felt how strong he was.

  “There,” he said. “That’s better.”

  The first thing that struck Lindsay about Mark’s room was how stark it seemed. Outside she’d noticed the lack of wall decorations and the minimal furnishings, but standing in the room made her feel the emptiness of the place. It could have been the tidiness. The pile of clothes she’d noticed yesterday against the closet door was gone, leaving the floor spotless. Mark’s bed was made, blankets smoothed down tight and flawless. The desk by the window, a simple wooden top with narrow legs, looked brand-new, as if it had never been used. No papers littered the surface. No scratches marred the wood. To her left was an open door, leading to a bathroom, and against the same wall as the window was the piano she’d noticed before.

  “Do you play?” Lindsay asked.

  “Sure,” Mark said. He crossed to the piano and lifted the cover off the keys. He hit a key with his index finger and the note chimed crisply. “Well, I used to. I haven’t felt much like it lately.” He sat down on the bench. “Any requests?”

  “I don’t know much piano music,” Lindsay admitted, feeling foolish.

  “Hmm.” Mark stared at the keyboard for a moment, and then his fingers came down on the keys.

  The music that followed was classical, Lindsay knew, but she didn’t know the piece or the composer. Still, to her it sounded amazing. Each note and chord meshed together in a beautiful weave of sound. But it also sounded kind of sad.

  Mark stopped after a couple of minutes and said “Chopin.”

  “What?”

  “The piece is by Chopin.”

  He returned his attention to the piano and started banging out a high tempo piece that sounded like old-time rock and roll. This only kept his attention for a minute though. “And that was Jerry Lee Lewis.”

  “You play really well.”

  “Thanks.” The compliment seemed to brighten Mark up a lot. He played a few more snippets, identifying each artist when he finished. “The Beatles.” “Elton John.” “Linkin Park.”

  The only song Lindsay knew was the last one. She liked it a lot, and though she didn’t know the others, she liked them, too, but probably only because Mark had chosen to play them.

  And there she stood, in Mark’s room. Alone with him. Her thoughts raced and collided, leaving her without anything to say. She supposed she could comment on the room or something. It wasn’t so bad. It felt a little chilly to her, but it was okay. Still, it was no place to spend your summer.

  “You’re shaking,” Mark said, rising from the piano bench.

  “Too much AC,” she replied, hugging herself.

  “Do you want another shirt or something? Doug and Jack keep the place like a refrigerator most of the time. I guess I’m just used to it now.”

  “No, I’m fine,” Lindsay assured him.

  “Do you want to sit down?” Mark asked, indicating the desk chair behind her. “You might be warmer if you stay by the window.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’d offer you something to drink, but I think Doug or Jack might notice.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Lindsay said.

  Then they fell silent. Lindsay sat in the desk chair, found it comfortable. Mark stood in the middle of the room, looking a little shy and uncertain. She could have just looked at him for an hour, but it was totally weird not saying anything. It made her tremble more.

  “I like your room.”

  “Thank you. It’d be okay if I could get out of it every now and then.”

  “Well, they can’t keep you locked up forever. How long are you grounded?”

  “Forever,” he said with a smile. “It’s really complicated. And they’re going to be back soon.”

  Lindsay watched the sad expression leak over Mark’s face. She again wondered if his guardians hit him, and the thought made her chest hurt.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “I mean, they aren’t hurting you, are they? Because that’s totally illegal.”

  “You can’t get involved,” Mark said sharply. “It’s not what you think.”

  “It just seems so unfair.”

  “Look, Lindsay,” Mark said, turning his head a bit as if looking for spies in his nearly empty room. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell anyone else? I’m serious. You can’t tell anyone. Not your friends or your parents or anyone!”

  Thrilled that he was going to share a secret with her, Lindsay leaned closer. She put her hands on her knees and nodded her head.

  “I swear.”

  Again Mark looked around his room. “I can’t explain it all, because there’s not enough time. But you know how sometimes the government will take people who know things and hide them, move them to another part of the country, change their names?”

  “Sure,” Lindsay said. She saw it all the time on television.

  “Well, it’s like that,” Mark said. “But it’s not just that. I think something’s wrong. I’m not supposed to be a prisoner. I mean, they never made it sound that way before, but I can’t get out of this house. The doors are locked, and they’ve got alarms. They’ve got this stuff they put on the windows and doors, and if I touch them it leaves a mark. That’s why you have to open the window for me. The worst part is, I couldn’t leave if I wanted to. Because even though these guys are bad, there are a lot worse things out there looking for me. So I can’t go to the cops or call my friends, because if anyone finds me, I’m toast.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Lindsay said.

  It was just an expression. She totally believed it. If Mark were a liar with strict parents, he could climb through the window and run away. He had to seriously believe he was in danger, or he wouldn’t just stay inside taking their abuse.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “It has to do with my father,” Mark said. “You might say he’s involved with the underworld. Anyway, he got me involved in some things that are totally out of my control.”

  On the trip out to her uncle’s house, Lindsay had felt like a prisoner, kidnapped by her parents and dragged away from her life. Now she saw how silly that was. Mark was a prisoner, a real one.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No,” he said. “I mean, I like seeing you. I really do. It’s been a long time since I met anyone even remotely normal. So if you want to visit and talk and stuff, that’s cool, but you really can’t get involved. If the muscle thugs found out, you could get into real trouble.”

  “They can’t do anything to me,” Lindsay said.

  “They can,” Mark said sadly. “They can, and they will if they find out. You don’t know them. They’re capable of things you can’t even imagine.”

  “Well maybe…,” Lindsay began.

  “Oh, crap! I’m so sorry!”

  The voice startled them both. Mark leaped back toward his bed, and Lindsay spun in the desk chair, her heart racing in her throat.

  Ev stood at the window, her hands over her mouth like she’d just witnessed something shocking. Again she wore a bikini top, this time white to show off her tan, and her hair was smooth and sleek like sheets of snowy satin.

  “I swear I wasn’t spying,” Ev said quickly. “I just came by to walk you down to the beach, and no one was home at your place.”

  “It’s cool,” Lindsay said, though it wasn’t.

  “Hey,” Mark said, not stepping closer to the window.

  Lindsay checked his expression to see if he was all about Ev’s look. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but she knew well enough what her own thoughts were. She didn’t want the model-actress here, competing with her for Mark.

  I wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Well, I’m so sorry,” Ev said, exaggerating every syllable.

  Turn off the drama, Lindsay thought. Jeez, it’s not
like we were naked or something.

  “No problem,” Mark said. “I was just telling Lindsay I had to get some things done.” He looked quickly toward the door. “I really can’t hang. Doug and Jack will be back soon.”

  Mark was being subtle, but Lindsay totally knew what he was saying. He wanted her to get Ev away from the house before his guardians returned. It would be hard enough for Lindsay to slip out without being noticed; trying to drag Ev away without making a scene would be far harder. She nodded slightly, telling him she understood.

  “Well, my tan isn’t getting any darker in here,” she said, quickly rising from the chair. Lindsay walked across the room to Mark and put her arms around him. She hugged him tightly. “See ya.”

  “Please don’t bring Barbie back,” Mark whispered in her ear.

  Lindsay giggled and held him tighter, feeling his muscles through the loose black T-shirt. His arms wrapped around her in a secure embrace, and she didn’t want to leave. But then he let her go.

  “Later?” he asked, smiling at her.

  “Later,” she agreed. Definitely.

  “So how hot is he!” Ev gushed as they walked over the sand.

  “I know.”

  Already the beach was swarming with people. Men and women lay out on towels. Children chased the surf. Music from radios and CD players competed with the ocean’s song.

  It was a beautiful day. But Lindsay found herself wishing she were still in Mark’s simple room.

  “No wonder you were shooing Doyle away like a stray mutt, which he is by the way. He’s fun, but he’s a total hound, and in no way is he Mr. Yummy Butt. My god. Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Lindsay said, blushing. “We just met.”

  “Well, you better snare that boy, Supergirl,” Ev said excitedly. “Oh. Oh. Oh. You have got to bring him to the bon’.”

  “He’s grounded.” Lindsay’s foot came down wrong on the sand, and she stumbled. The weight of her tote bag nearly pulled her to the beach. “Damn. Anyway, he’s locked up for a few days. Total ass parents.”

  Even if he weren’t grounded, Lindsay didn’t like the idea of taking Mark to the bonfire. She wasn’t ready to share him with anyone yet, especially Ev and her entourage.

  And there they were. Twenty yards down the beach, three blondes—Mel and Tee and Char. They sat up simultaneously and waved. Lindsay could already hear them shouting to get Ev’s attention.

  “Gang’s all here,” Ev said, giggling and waving back.

  Lindsay lay on her back, staring up at the silver-blue sky, her skin pleasantly warmed by the sun. Ev and the other girls chatted around her, and Kate cried in her ear. She’d been crying for the last thirty minutes. Lindsay adjusted the PDA against her cheek and listened while her friend vented.

  “…it was so gross. I mean, Nick is always so cool, and there he was spewing chunks in the sink, and Funkster was lost. I didn’t know what to do. And that’s after I caught Constance with Chad, so I already felt like crap and just wanted everyone to go home anyway. I about died when the police showed up, but Trey was there and he totally talked them down, but by then everything was so screwed up…”

  Lindsay reached for her bottle of water and squirted some over her tongue. “So what’s the actual damage? I know about the lamp. What else? Stains on the carpet? Cigarettes on the patio, the rug?”

  “No, nothing like that, thank heavens.”

  “Okay, so you have to explain the lamp, and you need a backup story in case the Jacksons decide to tell your parents about the cops.”

  “My parents totally hate the Jacksons. They wouldn’t talk to them.”

  “What about party supplies? Have you gotten rid of everything?”

  “Trey’s coming over later to help me with that junk. I would have died without him.”

  “So, did you piss anyone besides Constance off?” Lindsay asked.

  “No,” Kate said. “I don’t think so. Trey really handled a lot of that stuff. He was just great. By the time everyone was spewing in the sink, I was locked in my room, crying.”

  “Well, Trey said it was a great party. He told me everyone was raving about it.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. You just couldn’t enjoy it, because you were in the middle of it seeing all of the problems. Go to the school blog and see what people are saying.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Just do it,” Lindsay said. “They’re probably already voting you homecoming queen. I’ve got to go.”

  “Oh,” Kate muttered. “Okay. I’ll go check the blog. Thanks, Linds.”

  “No prob. Call me later.”

  “I will.”

  Lindsay disconnected and sat up. The towel beneath her squished into the sand. She took off her sunglasses and surveyed the beach. It was near noon, and the shore was covered in sunbathers.

  “Trauma at home?” Ev asked.

  Lindsay looked at the girl, saw her staring out over the ocean as if she’d already heard the answer to her question and it bored her. “It’s nothing,” Lindsay said.

  “I bet,” Char said, falling back on her towel.

  “Ignore her,” Mel whispered in Lindsay’s ear.

  “Yeah,” Tee agreed. “She’s just jealous because Ev likes you. She’s like threatened. She thinks now that Ev is famous, she’s going to bail or something. But even when she’s in New York, she’s still with us, you know? She’s a total friend, like you are with Kate.”

  “I know,” Lindsay said, noticing the certainty in the girl’s green eyes. She looked back in Ev’s direction. The young model still watched the waves, seemingly indifferent to all around her.

  When she looked back at Tee and Mel, she couldn’t help but see them as victims, up to their neck in a quicksand pit, waiting and waiting for someone to pull them free.

  8

  The bonfire blazed, whipping over the sand with the gusting wind. Ev seemed quieter tonight, less buzzed, but her entourage was in full party downhill. Bottles drained. Beer cans emptied. Blunts passed among the kids, who sat and stared in awe at the flames. Tonight’s bonfire was being dedicated to Lester Krohl. That was the name of the kid that drowned last night. Apparently, he was a full-on looz with a taste for weed and harder drugs. When Ev and her crowd talked about Lester, Lindsay couldn’t help but realize he was the burner she’d seen prowling outside Mark’s house. He’d totally scared her when she saw him again on the boardwalk, but she still found his death disturbing.

  Despite having the night dedicated to him, Lindsay got the distinct impression that Lester wasn’t a well-liked boy. If anything, his death was being used as a hollow excuse for another night by the flames.

  After hearing more than she wanted to about Lester Krohl, Lindsay stood a little away from the crowd, closer to the ocean, watching the tide crash in and slowly recede. She held a beer. She’d been at the party for an hour and it was still three quarters full. Doyle was prowling again. He’d arrived with a pretty girl, whom he was all but ignoring in favor of watching Lindsay.

  She wished she’d just stayed at home. Over dinner with her parents, Lindsay felt uneasy. Restless. She could feel Mark in the house next door. He was so close to her. She wanted to talk to him. Wanted to have him hold her again. She wanted to help him.

  You better snare that boy, Supergirl.

  Yeah, right, Lindsay thought. They couldn’t spend more than ten minutes together because of his guardians. They couldn’t even talk on the phone or email. Or can we? She never thought to ask Mark if he had a cell. Didn’t everybody? She figured Doug and Jack boosted it when Mark got grounded, but maybe they’d never allowed him to have one in the first place.

  It’s so unfair.

  “Thinking about Yummy Butt?” Ev asked, draping her arm over Lindsay’s shoulders.

  “No,” Lindsay lied. She added a laugh to show Ev how ridiculous her question was. “Just catching a buzz.”

  “Cool,” Ev said, flipping her hair a li
ttle against the ocean breeze. “You totally can’t like worry about him. Okay? Like he’s hot and all, but he’s also got to have some major issues. I mean, did you see that room? Like it’s a total cell. So not normal.”

  You don’t know what you’re talking about.

  “I know,” Lindsay agreed. She sipped her beer. It was warm, but she drank it anyway.

  “It’s like you have to hang with the right people,” Ev said. “Like I was saying last night. I worked too hard to get out of the dirt, and I’m not letting anyone pull me back. It’s the same with that Mark guy. He’s going to hold you back, and you’ve got to take care of you.”

  She didn’t know what to think. Maybe Ev was right. But earlier in the day Ev was all “You have got to bring him to the bon’,” and now the girl was telling her to break things off.

  Like there was anything to break off.

  “I’m here for you, Supergirl,” Ev said. Then she walked back toward the fire.

  Lindsay was a little drunk.

  When Ev left, she’d finished her first beer in three gulps and then got another one. She didn’t often drink, so by the time she held her second empty beer can, her head was light and the sand seemed particularly squishy. She danced with Tee and Mel for a bit. Char was kicked back in the sand talking to some boy with a shaved head and lime green shorts. Doyle kept insinuating himself between Lindsay and the girls, but she turned away, toward the fire, and let the music command her feet.

  “You’re driving me crazy,” Doyle whispered in her ear as he attempted to grind his hips into her backside.

  Lindsay spun away, laughing. “You were at crazy long before I got behind the wheel.”

  Doyle grabbed his stomach as if shot. “Ahhh,” he groaned. “So mean.”

  Lindsay left him to his theatrics and wandered away from the fire.

  “Hey,” Tee called. “Where are you going? The party’s like right here.”

  “Be right back,” Lindsay called over her shoulder.

  She trudged through the sand and eased her way through a group of kids at the fire’s edge, working her way back to the cooler higher up on the beach. After opening a fresh one, she saw a pudgy guy in a brightly colored shirt, and since she was feeling a little flirty, she went up and started chatting with him. He introduced himself to her, but she didn’t quite catch his name. It was Bart or Burt or something. His face was kind of round, and he reminded her way too much of her dad. He seemed really nice, though. Harmless anyway.