My mouth falls open. “I think I’m going to puke.” My stepbrother holds out his barf bag. “Budge, what if Joshua Day had help in all those things he did? Or what if he didn’t do any of them?” The facts race through my head, and I try to focus and line up every detail like Post-its in my mind. “Whether Joshua was involved or not—Newt was. He had to have been.”
“That’s insane. Newton Phillips is the wimpiest guy I know. He couldn’t hurt anyone. He’s perfectly capable of shutting down the world with his computer, but not harming people or threatening anyone.” But as Budge says this, his expression shifts. Like the possibility is suddenly not so far-fetched.
“When I was working at Summer Fresh—”
“Is this before or after the maxi-pads attacked you?”
“—I talked to Newt’s mom. She said she was glad I had arranged the prom date between him and Lindy because she was worried about what she called his ‘fantasy world.’”
“She just meant the games he creates,” Budge says.
I grab my stepbrother’s arm. “And she said she was glad he was going with Lindy because she was a good girl, and that it was a step in the right direction for him—like he had been messing with some bad stuff. Or bad people.” What does this mean? I can’t think fast enough! And the gaps—there are too many holes in what I know. “Did Newt date anyone recently?” Did he date anyone—ever?
Budge rubs his hand over his stubbly face. “No . . . not really.” His eyes close as he thinks. “Wait—he would talk about this girl he tutored. He would always say how hot she was and stuff—how he’d do anything for a girl like her to like him.”
“Who was it?”
He sticks a finger in his ear. “Dude, yelling is not going to jog my memory. I don’t know. He never told me her name.”
“Newt tutored Felicity.” The fact explodes in my mind. “It has to be her! He acted weird around her the other day—reminded her she’d skipped tutoring. I’ve never even seen him talk to a girl before that morning.”
Budge’s eyes grow wide. “All along Newt’s been sabotaging the prom queen race.”
“And setting up Joshua Day to take the fall.” Get me off this plane! I’m seriously about to jump out of my skin. I need a phone. I have to call Lindy and tell her to stay away from Newt!
“Wait a minute.” I hold up my watch. “We’re descending. What’s going on?” We’ve only been in the air a little over two hours. Did God provide a miracle and speed up time?
The copilot sticks his head out of the cockpit. “Hey, guys. I don’t know if they told you, but we’re making a pit stop in Denver. We have to drop a small shipment off.”
“What?” I shriek. “You can’t!”
He smiles. “I heard you guys were excited about some dance.” He shakes his head. “Ah, to be young again.”
“Um, can you maybe step on the gas a little? You know, break the speed barrier or something?” I force a laugh. “Wouldn’t that be so much fun?”
The copilot just grins, then goes back to business.
“I’m on the verge of a screaming freak-out here.” I tap my fingers on the armrests.
“Do you think Felicity was in on it?” Budge asks.
I consider the possibility. “I don’t know. She was desperate to be prom queen, but her tires got slashed too. Would she do that to her own car? She was leading the race, especially with her dad funding, well, everything.”
“If Newt’s behind all this, there’s no telling what’s he’s got planned. He’s, like, freakishly brilliant. You should call Lindy.”
My ears pop as we finally land.
After we roll to a stop, the copilot opens the exit door. “We should be heading back out in thirty.”
Thirty whole minutes? “Do you want me to run the package?” I offer. “I’m awfully fast.” At least when a psycho-maniac is taking my friend to prom.
The guy gives me another weird look, then exits the plane.
I rip out my cell and call Lindy.
No answer. Just as it goes to voice mail, the line goes silent. I check the bars on my phone. Only one? Please, God. I need some holy cell reception!
I try Luke’s number.
“Hello?”
My breath releases in a whoosh. “Luke, I have to talk fast—”
“Bella? Hello?”
Are you kidding me here? “You have to stop Lindy from going to prom with—”
“Hellooo? Hello?” Click. Dead line.
I thrash back into my seat. “Try your phone, Budge.”
He holds it up. “No reception here.”
I pace the short length of the plane until an eternity passes. Finally both pilots are strapped in again, and we’re in motion.
“Just an hour and a half,” the pilot calls.
I glance at my watch. “We’re not going to get to Truman until, like, nine thirty.” Rummaging in my purse, I wrap my fingers around a Snickers. This moment calls for chocolate.
“Hey, I’m stressed too.” Budge holds out his hand, and I grudgingly give him half. If I’ve learned nothing else this year, I’ve learned sacrifice.
He eyes the candy bar. “You gave me the smaller part.”
What? I didn’t say I was a saint.
My heart stays lodged in my throat during the entire flight. At one point I reach for my phone again, intent on sending Lindy a text.
“You don’t want to do a thing like that.” The pilot walks toward the wet bar and grabs some pretzels.
“No. I was just . . . um . . . er . . .” Oh, I give up. I toss the phone into my purse.
“Maybe you should do some of that prayer stuff or something.” Budge waves a hand around like he’s trying to conjure some Jesus.
“You could do it, too, you know.”
He turns to look out the window. “I have.”
I pray and pray as the plane seems to move at turtle speed. Please keep Lindy safe. Please let me get in touch with her. Please let Newton split his pants and have to go home.
For the rest of the way, I divide my time between pleading, praying, and watching the seconds tick. I’m about ready to promise the Lord I’ll never say a snarky thing to Budge again when the pilot announces we’re landing. Eight fifteen local time. Everyone is at prom by now. What if Newton’s hurt Lindy? Or Felicity? Or gone postal on every girl there?
I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the wheels make contact with the runway. When we stop, the pilot lifts a lever and the door whooshes open.
“Thank you. Great flight. You’re the best.” I heave my suitcase, letting it thunk down every step as I pull it behind. “Let’s go, Budge!”
I sprint like someone’s holding a blowtorch to my butt. My body aches from last night’s beating, but I push through it. Budge struggles to keep up. My lungs are burning when we reach the Tahoe. Budge fumbles for the keys.
“Open the car!”
“I’m trying!” he yells. “I can’t take this pressure!” His hands shake. His fingers become tangled with one another.
I run to him and latch onto his shoulders. “Pull yourself together, man!”
“I’ve got them!” Budge holds up the keys like he’s found the Holy Grail. “I’ve got them!”
As he screeches out of the parking lot, I furiously dial Lindy. Straight to voice mail! I try Luke. Same thing! I leave desperate messages.
They’re all doing the cha-cha slide, meanwhile there’s a lunatic among them!
I try one last number.
“You have reached Hunter Penbrook. I can’t come to the phone right now. Please leave . . .”
“Hunter, it’s me. Call me when you get this. You remember Lindy, right? She’s possibly in danger. You have to find her and tell her to stay away from Newt Phillips. Call me!”
Budge drives like a maniac. I check my phone every five seconds. Why isn’t Hunter checking his? Shouldn’t he be waiting for my call anyway?
“Ruthie’s going to kill me when she sees me dressed like this.” Budge sw
ats at some chip grease on his jeans.
And my totally amazing dress from Hunter. Wasted. I’m going to my prom wearing my cutoff Abercrombie sweats and hoodie! Can’t wait to see those pictures.
I hit redial a million times as the miles fly by. I want to shout when I see the Truman city limits sign.
The tires squall as Budge navigates the turns. Felicity’s driveway is longer than any street in town. Fancy landscaping lines either side of the path.
Finally I see lights. Cars. Tons of them. Limos. “Park at the front,” I say, even though it will block people in.
My head pounding and my side hollow with a dull pain, we run the rest of the way. Through a gate. Straight to the large canopy.
Budge breathes like a rhino. “I’ll get Newt.”
“And I’ll find Lindy.”
We throw open the canvas doors and step inside, splitting into two directions. I blink to adjust my eyes to the dim lights. I walk toward the pulsing music.
A hand covers my eyes.
Arms grab my middle.
And I scream.
chapter thirty-six
Bella, it’s me!”
My eyes struggle to focus. “Hunter?” I lower my fists and bend at the waist, my bruised ribs begging for rest. As I breathe in and out in my jogging togs, he stands there regal and flawless in his tux.
“Always a trendsetter, aren’t you? I think I’m overdressed.” He smiles.
“I’ll explain later.”
“Hey, how are you?” He steps closer, his fingers reaching toward my face. “Let me see what that idiot wrestler did.”
I shoo his hand away. “I’m fine.” Okay, I’m not. I’m tired, I’m sore, and I really need an ice cream fix. “Hunter, I have to take care of something, but I’ll find you in a little bit. We need to talk.”
He reaches for my hand. “We definitely need to talk. Bella, I—”
“Not now.” I walk backward. “Eat some quiche! Have some punch! Do the Worm!” I put some speed into my steps, my eyes scanning for my friend. “Have you seen Lindy?” Empty, clueless faces stare back at me.
I move to the dance area and weave through the maze of classmates. “Lindy! Lindy! Anyone seen Lindy Miller?”
This is bad. Very bad.
“Bella?”
I pivot at the deep voice. “Luke!”
His eyes flash fire as he reaches out, his hand sweeping across my cheek much like Hunter’s. Yet so not like Hunter’s touch. Goose bumps skitter across my skin.
“It looks worse than it is.”
His fingers still on my jawbone. “I’d like to tear that man apart.”
Oh, any other time I would totally appreciate his machoprotectiveness. But not now! “Luke, I need to find Lindy—or Newt Phillips. We were wrong about Joshua Day. Newt was the mastermind behind all of this. We’ve got to get Lindy away from him. Help me find her.”
He doesn’t even question me. “Let’s go.”
“No, we need to split up.” I point to the other side. “I’ll go that way. Call me when you find either one of them.”
“Bella, when this is over, we need to talk.”
“Yeah, yeah, get in line.” I shoot through a swaying couple and continue my urgent search.
A few minutes later I stand at the back exit of the canopy. No Lindy. No Newt. And I would kill for some ibuprofen.
Three girls walk by in a cloud of perfume and giggles. “Don’t worry about your lipstick. We’ll fix it in the bathroom.”
“Wait!” I grab one by her tiny dress strap. “Where are the bathrooms?”
She looks at me like I showed up to prom in sweats or something. “Um . . . in the house. Just follow the Chinese lanterns to the back door.”
I butt my way in front of them and zoom out the exit. The path takes me past the pool and some couples making out. I step into the house and into a kitchen the size of our yard.
“Lindy?” I yell her name. Moving down the hall, I find a bathroom and set my fist to the door.
“Just a minute!”
Was that her? “I need to talk to you!” I bang some more. “Hurry up.”
The door wrenches open. Ruthie stands there in a pink frothy dress, accented with a black leather spiky belt and dog collar. Combat boots rise to meet her calf-length hem. I sag against the wall and consider giving into hysterics.
“What?” she asks. “Is it my hair? It’s too pink tonight, isn’t it?” She pats her size XXL updo that’s somewhere in the color range of Pepto and Hello Kitty.
With as few words as possible, I fill her in. “Go find Lindy. I’m going to search the house.” Ruthie doesn’t budge an inch.
I roll my eyes and give her a shove. “Yes, your hair looks fabulous.”
With a nod, she disappears.
The kitchen begins to fill with people mingling. Unnoticed, I pass through and follow the gleaming wood floor into a massive living room. Hideous pieces of art hang on every wall. A life-size portrait of Felicity holding a poodle looms above the fireplace.
“Lindy?” I call as I search the first floor. “Lindy Miller!” God, please-oh-please let me find her.
Peeking over my shoulder, I make sure I’m alone. Then I open every door I find. Nothing. No one. I climb up the grand staircase, my ribs throbbing with every step.
On rubbery legs, I reach the top and open a door and find a sparsely decorated guest bedroom. Double-checking the closets, I move on to a bathroom that could swallow our living room. The knob on the next room sticks, and gritting with pain, I push ’til it gives.
I’m emptied into a large office. I step inside and—The door slams behind me. I jump and spin.
“N–Newton.” Not good. Not good at all.
His back is pressed to the door, and he looks at me with a wild gleam in his eyes. I’ve seen that look—on Budge when he’s gunning down the enemy on Halo.
“Hey . . . um, have you seen Lindy?” My voice is as high as a ten-year-old boy’s. “Nice tie, by the way. Like the tux. And your shoes sure are shiny. How do they do that, huh? I see you didn’t wear white socks. That’s always a good choice.” Oh, my gosh. Am I still talking?
Newt twists the lock on the door, his eyes never leaving mine. “So you figured it out.”
“Yes, I was dying to know whether Felicity’s dad was a Mac man or preferred the PC.” I tap his PC. “I’m more of an Apple loyalist myself.” My fake laugh sounds more like a drunken sheep. “Now that I found out, I’ll just be going.”
“I don’t think so.”
I drop my act. “Just open the door. Don’t be an idiot.”
He laughs. “I have an IQ of 170. It’s a waste of time to question my intelligence.”
Crazy and cocky. Perfect. “Why, Newt?”
He looks into the space above my shoulder. “I would’ve done anything for her.”
“Felicity?”
He nods. “When she presented the idea, it was like a gift had just fallen into my lap. Like destiny.”
“She was with you in the car when you cashed the check at the bank. And you made it appear as if Anna had signed it.”
“I’m a good forger. I can copy anyone’s signature.”
“And the teller—Victoria Smith? Obviously she was in on it.”
His grin is predatory. “Let’s just say I had some dirt on her she didn’t want anyone to know about. And we dated for a bit—before Felicity.”
I scan the room for something to use as a weapon. “Why frame Joshua Day? What did he ever do to you?”
“Why, Bella. You provided that little detail. Victoria called me from McDonald’s that day you met. She mentioned you were hinting about Joshua. Everything had all fallen into place so nicely. This story has simply written itself.”
I can’t hide my smirk. “Why don’t you just ask Felicity out? Why do you care if she gets prom queen? Is it really worth hurting other people?”
“You know nothing about me!” he roars. “I’ve been in this school since kindergarten and no one ever a
cts like I even exist! I love Felicity. She promised me we’d be together for prom when I had taken care of everything. And I warned you to stay out of this. You’re all alike—always in my way.”
Hmm. So psycho boy has a small dislike for the female population. “So you did all this—snuck into my house, doctored the photos, transferred the money, got Callie’s phone, and—”
“And had Felicity call the caterer, yes. She cared about me.” His mouth twists. “As long as she needed me. And by the way”—he shakes a finger at me—“you really should look at getting a new lock for that back door.”
I wait a few seconds. Wait for his wave of crazy to ebb. “Then why go to prom with Lindy?”
“To make Felicity jealous.”
Somehow I manage to keep a straight face. “And then Felicity broke her promise.”
“Like I was a nobody,” he snarls. “She never cared about me. And after all I did for her. But revenge”—his eyes lock onto mine—“is definitely worth the price of admission.”
I force my voice to remain low and calm. “Where is Lindy?”
“When I saw you’d arrived, I sent her on an errand outside. I’ve been waiting for you, Bella. Because nobody gets the best of me. But now we’re through talking.” With strength I didn’t know he possessed, Newt shoves me and I hit the wood floor, my head barely missing the desk. I am so getting a massage after this weekend is over.
He looms over me, his hands fisted. Something shifts in my brain, and my pulse calms. God, we can do this.
Last year I survived an entire football team. I’ve survived an airborne wrestler with nothing to lose. And now this? I am not letting this dork get the best of me. I scramble to stand.
“Do you see my face, Newt?” Now I’m the one advancing. “I had a little tangle with a man who weighs more than both of us put together. And I won.” Sort of.
I close the distance and stick my finger in his chest. “Now you’re going to let me out of this room or I’m going to tear you apart, limb by stinkin’ limb.”
His chuckle drips of demented evil. “You know what’s cool about being a geek, Bella?”
I tense my muscles, ready to spring. “You always have your Friday nights free?”
“No one really knows anything about you.” His leg shoots out in a kick that hits me straight in the ribs. I feel something give and double over, bile rising in my throat. “Like I’m a black belt in tae kwon do.” He laughs. “I like comic books.” He lands a chop to the top of my shoulder, and I sink to my knees. “I’ve recently learned a lot about explosives.” The base of his hand smashes into my temple. “And I’m really great with a computer.”
I'm So Sure (2009) Page 22