“You’re lying,” he says.
“Well, I am scared of you. I’m just more scared of somebody else,” I say. “I’ll take you over her any day.”
“Her who?” he asks.
“My mother,” I answer.
“Why are you climbing out your window?” Nolan asks. “Why not use your front door?”
“She locked me in my room.”
“Why?”
“Because there was a dish left in the sink over night,” I answer. “If you’re going to kill me, can I at least have a last meal? I’m hungry.”
“They said you like to eat,” he says.
“They who?” I ask.
“Never mind that,” he says, then hands me a sack from a grocery store. “Take this and go back to your room.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What if I don’t want to go to my room?”
“Then I’ll ring your doorbell and ask for you,” he says.
“Y—you wouldn’t,” I say.
“Try me, honey,” Nolan says.
I grab the food from him. “Call me honey again, and I will kill you.”
He just grins.
I hate his grin.
And then I climb back up the tree to my room.
When I get up there, I look inside the sack. There is warm food in plastic containers, a box of Twinkies and a soda, which kind of makes me like the guy a little more, even if he is arrogant.
Wednesday, August 16
Sander.
When I get to school on Wednesday, there is a note taped up inside my locker, with an apple and a Twinkie inside.
I read the note.
Karlie,
Had an emergency, so Hunter and I won’t be at school today. You don’t have to eat lunch alone. You could sit with the other kids. Trust me, they would like you! But I know you, and know you’ll be sitting alone at lunch. I am leaving you a phone that you can text me on. Keep it. And actually text me. I put all our numbers in there.
Have a good day!
—Gage
P.S. You’re awesome!
I smile at the note, but feel weird. Is it normal for somebody to buy their friend they just met a phone?
The mobile phone is sitting under the Twinkie. There is also a charger in the corner that I hadn’t noticed before.
I pick up the phone and click on a couple buttons.
Contacts.
There are six contacts.
Six?
Brett. The camera guy. Gage knows the camera guy?
Gage.
Hunter.
Jax.
Nolan.
As in the creepy guy outside my house last night? Well, okay. Not that creepy. He did bring me food, which was awesome.
But then there is a sixth name that I don’t recognize.
Sander.
Who is Sander?
I decide to ask him. When I click on his contact, I see that there is an option to send a text. I click that.
Me: Who are you?
The response is immediate.
Sander: You’re the one texting me.
Me: My friend gave me this phone. The question is, why did he put your number in this phone?
Sander: Well, I am rather handsome. Are you cute? Maybe he thinks we’d make a great couple.
Me: How do you even know I’m a girl?
Sander: Hello, Karlie. I am Sander. It’s nice to “meet” you finally. I’m just messing with you. Now get to class. The bell is about to ring.
At that moment, the warning bell goes off.
How did he know that?
And how did he know that I wasn’t in class?
I don’t think about it too long, because if I don’t go quick, I will be late for class. I slam my locker shut, and run towards my first class. The apple and Twinkie will have to wait, even though I am very hungry.
I run into the class and slide into my desk as the second bell goes off. The two desks on the right and left of me are very empty, and I feel very alone today.
The door opens again and somebody else comes in, but I don’t pay attention. I just pull my own stuff out of my bag and wait for the teacher to take attendance and start class.
“We have a new student,” the teacher says.
My head jerks up.
There’s a new boy.
Another new boy.
Blond hair, blue eyes and a smile that says “you’re destined to fall in love with me”. He’s basically your “All American” hot guy. I’m pretty sure every single girl in the class agrees, but I hear a couple of girls sigh as they look at him.
I roll my eyes.
Could they be anymore obvious?
I have enough friends. Five of them… or maybe six. I’m not sure anymore. I don’t need anymore.
“Tell us your name and where your from,” the teacher says.
I look at the boy to find that he is looking right at me. “I’m Sander, and I’m from the westish part of the United States. Where isn’t really important. But I’m happy to be here,” he says. “As long as I can sit by her.”
He points right at me.
And my face turns red.
So… this is Sander.
“Um… actually, behind her is the only seat available. Two of our students is out today that usually sit beside her,” the teachers says. “But if you bug her, I will move you. Karlie is my best student.”
Sander smirks as he walks towards me.
He leans over and whispers as he walks by. “I should’ve known you were a good girl.”
I don’t react to his comment. I just look ahead.
But seriously, did he have to lean so close to me? And why is my heart beating so fast?
“Relax,” he says.
Relax?
Can he tell I’m tense?
I feel something vibrate in my pocket.
What the heck?
“I think your phone went off,” he whispers.
I listened to each teacher give a strict speech about not using cell phones during class. I’ve also seen students get their phones taken away for the whole day for texting during class. So there is no way I am taking out my phone, because the day is still young. I want to talk to my friends.
So, I ignore Sander.
And a few minutes later, a note ends up on my desk.
Karlie, it says on the front.
I open it up.
You really are a good girl. You won’t even take out your phone during class. So I guess I have to do this the old fashioned way.
What’s up?
I’m bored.
—Sander
I roll my eyes.
Seriously, this boy is persistent. And annoying. Very, very annoying.
I take out my pen and write something back.
Sander,
You should try paying attention. Leave me alone. Seriously.
—Karlie
I don’t pass the note back, but his hand does reach up and grab it.
I hear him snort as he reads what I wrote.
A little later, another note is deposited on my desk.
Karlie,
I like you. You’re so much better than the guys told me.
—Sander
I crumple up the note on my desk, and pay attention to the teacher.
Well, pay attention isn’t exactly true. I am hyperaware of the fact that Sander is sitting behind me.
Ugh, this is going to be a long year.
Bad girl.
“Hi,” Sander says, as he sits on the floor beside me. “So is there a reason you sit on the floor in the corner when there are plenty of places to sit at the tables? I mean, you’re small. You don’t take up much room.”
Because last time I sat a a lunchroom table, my stepbrother punched me in the stomach. And when I couldn’t stand long enough without falling over to cook dinner that night, my mom locked me in the room and left me—for a whole week. I couldn’t go to school or do anything.
“I’m sitting here. If you don’t like
it, please feel free to sit somewhere else. Plenty of girls would love for you to sit by them,” I say.
“Whoa. Sorry. I didn’t realize how sensitive the subject was for you,” he says.
I don’t respond. I just start eating my food.
Sander slides my tray away.
“Hey!”
“Don’t eat that,” he says, then sits a bag in front of me. “They don’t give you enough to feed a bird here.”
“What are you going to eat?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says. “I’ll get a cheeseburger after school.”
“I’ve never had a cheeseburger,” I say.
“Seriously?” he asks.
“Mom says cheeseburgers will make me fat. Sometimes I have to cook them for my stepbrother and stepdad,” I say. “They smell good.”
“Forget lunch,” he says, grabbing my arm. He helps me stand up, and then grabs the bag from the floor, along with my tray. He dumps my tray full of food, and my stomach growls, reminding me of the apple and Twinkie that are still in my locker.
“Where are we going?” I ask. He’s still holding my arm, pulling me behind him quickly.
“To get cheeseburgers,” he says.
I pull him to a stop. “What do you mean? We can’t get cheeseburgers at school.”
“You’re a genius,” he says, not bothering to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “We’re leaving campus.”
“But… we can’t,” I say.
He just grins. “Karlie… such a good girl. But not anymore. Today, I make you a bad girl who ditches school.”
“I can’t. My mom…”
“Don’t worry. Nobody will ever know,” he says.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Trust me,” he says, looking at me.
And I don’t know why, but I do trust this boy that I just met today.
“Okay. Let’s go,” I say.
Sander grabs my hand and we walk towards the exit. Once we’re out the door, we run to the car, and I am laughing the whole way. I’m pretty sure we’re not going to get caught, but it would almost be worth the risk if we did. This is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life.
I wonder what the punishment would be for skipping school with a boy. My mom would flip out. She might even find a way to get me out of school for a while and she really would starve me. I cringe at the thought.
“Are you okay?” he asks, as we’re pulling out of the parking lot.
“Yeah,” I answer. “But can you promise me something?”
“Sure,” he says.
“If we get caught for some reason, can you try to sneak me food?” I ask. “Like, at my house.”
“I don’t think you will get suspended from school for your first offense,” Sander says. “Don’t worry.”
“I mean… my mom. If she finds out, I won’t be at school for a while. Can you just please promise to bring me food every couple days or so?” I ask.
“Karlie,” he says, sounding indifferent.
“Just promise me,” I say.
“I promise.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Are things really bad for you at home?” Sander asks.
I don’t answer. Instead, I reach over and put on my seatbelt. I haven’t rode in a car in a long time, but I know it’s important. They show us those tragic videos once a year at school. What happens when you text and drive, drink and drive, or ride in a car without your seatbelt.
“So, Karlie, tell me about yourself,” he says. “We have a long drive.”
“A long drive?”
“If it’s your first cheeseburger, I want it to be a good one,” he says. “Don’t worry. You’re not in trouble.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Now, go ahead. Tell me about you.”
“What do you want to know?” I ask.
“What do you like? Love? Hate? What are your favorites?” he asks. “Anything you’re willing to share.”
“Um… I love the color orange. But not just a dull orange. I’m talking about the orange that you see in the sky during a sunset. I’ve always wondered what sunsets look like in other parts of the world,” I say. “Do you think they all look as beautiful as they do in Florida?”
“They’re all different,” Sander says. “But Florida does have a nice sunset.”
“Yeah.”
“What else?” he asks.
“I like Twinkies,” I say.
He groans. “Not you too.”
“Why does everybody keep saying that?”
“Brett loves Twinkies. He’s always eating them,” Sander says. “I don’t see how. They’re so… gross.”
“He was the one who gave me my first Twinkie,” I say. “You know, somebody keeps leaving Twinkies in my locker.”
“Do they?” he asks, not at all sounding surprised.
“How do you guys all know each other?” I ask.
“We’ve been friends for a couple of years,” he says.
“Yeah, but isn’t Brett, Jax and Nolan older?”
“Jax and Brett are nineteen. Nolan is twenty,” he says. “They’re not that much older.”
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Eighteen,” he answers.
“I’m seventeen,” I tell him.
“I know,” Sander says.
“How do you know?” I ask.
“I know a lot of things about you,” he says.
“Should I be scared?” I ask.
He laughs. “You should ask those kinds of questions before getting in a car with somebody you just met. Literally, today. But no, you shouldn’t be scared. I’m just taking you for a burger. You’re lucky. You are way too trusting, Karlie. You just let Brett photograph you. And you got in the car with me. I don’t get it. Most people would think twice about doing this kind of thing.”
“I trust you,” I say. “And Brett was nice. You might think I’m stupid, but if I felt like I was in danger, I would run.”
“Can you even run?” he asks. “You’re so skinny that if the wind blows hard enough, you’ll fall over.”
“Not long if I keep eating Twinkies and cheeseburgers,” I say.
“If you start getting too fat, I’ll just let you work out with me,” he says. “That way you could run from a bad guy, or even fight if you had to.”
I shrug. “Sure. As long as I get to eat Twinkies.”
He laughs. “Karlie, you are a very special girl. Don’t ever forget that.”
Special?
“Don’t overthink it,” he says. “It’s a good thing.”
I nod. Once. But I’m not sure I believe him.
His car speakers make some kind of weird noise.
“Crap,” he says, pushing a button on his stereo. “Hello.”
A harsh male voice responds. “Why did I just get alerted that you and…”
“Karlie is in the car with me,” Sander says, cutting him off.
“Why is she in the car with you?”
“She told me she’s never had a cheeseburger. You can’t expect me to hear something like that and not take her to get a cheeseburger,” he says. “And you’re on speaker phone, just so you’re aware.”
The voice growls. “You realize you are in trouble tonight, right?”
“Yep,” Sander says, glancing over at me. “I must say, it’s totally worth it.”
“Karlie,” the voice says, now sounding softer.
“Umm… hi,” I say, feeling weird for talking to his car, even if there is somebody replying.
“Is Sander treating you okay?”
“He’s a little annoying, but I think he’s growing on me,” I say.
I hear Sander laughing.
“Sander has that effect on people,” the voice says.
“Who is this?” I ask.
“Nolan,” he answers. “Listen up the two of you. You’re not going back to school. Stay out until school is over and then take Karlie to the bus stop. I’ve already got into the schools system and
changed the contact info, so if they find Karlie missing from school, they’ll call me and not her mom.”
“Thanks,” I say, wondering just how he did that.
“Also, Sander, if you harm one hair on her head, you won’t be able to walk straight for a month. Got it?” Nolan says.
“Got it, boss,” Sander says.
The call comes to an end, but my heart is still pounding incredibly fast.
“Is Nolan always that…” my voice trails off.
“Intense? Unfortunately,” Sander says.
“I meant scary.”
Sander laughs again, and I love the sound.
Me, Karlie Anderson, made somebody laugh.
It’s a good feeling.
Tell me everything.
When I get home later that afternoon, I feel powerful. Like, nothing can stop me.
Then I walk inside and see my stepbrother in the living room. I panic. He hardly ever leaves his room in the basement, and if he does, it’s to go somewhere. I’m not sure where he goes. But he never just hangs out in the living room.
“Karlie, get me a soda,” Andrew says.
I don’t say a word. I don’t argue. I just walk into the kitchen and grab him a soda. I hand it to him, and when I do, he grabs my wrist hard, twisting it into an awkward position. It hurts, but his grip hurts the worst. He holds on for just a second, then lets go.
“Thanks for the soda,” he says.
“D—d—do… you need anything… else?” I ask.
“Go away,” he says, pushing me with his foot.
I stumble forward, nearly falling. I catch myself on the back of the couch.
Quickly, I run up the stairs to get away from Andrew. Once I am in my room, I lock it from the inside, knowing it won’t really do any good. If they want in, it wouldn’t be hard to get in.
I look down at my wrists and see big red whelps forming. I rub at it, hoping it will go away. I really, really don’t want it to bruise.
Finding Me (The Spy Chronicles Book 1) Page 3