by Jes Drew
The words come out wrong, and I see the way his eyes dim even in the darkness. He looks like I punched him in the gut.
“No, I mean-” I shake my head, not sure what to say or what to think. “Christopher, you do know that- surely-”
Christopher's expression doesn't change as he stands just inches away from me, staring at me like I just kicked his puppy.
“Do you… like me?” The words escape from me unbidden.
His gaze drops to my lips. Or maybe my chin. But why would he stare at that? Why would he stare at my lips for that matter, unless…
Returning his gaze to my eyes, he steps back. “I respect you very much, Miss Rogers. I just wish you'd respect yourself a little more.”
My mouth opens, but I can't think of a word to come out of it.
And then Christopher is turning away and descending the stairs.
For a moment, I just stare after him. Then I'm rushing down the stairs after him. “Wait!”
But he's already gone, so I turn back into the building.
He's still gone.
I slide down the carpet and into our room. Our room that is still dark and filled with sleeping people. Or those pretending to be sleeping, because Oto doesn't stir from his bed when I come inside. And neither does Christopher.
Not sure what else to do, I shut the door behind me and make my way to my bed. I can't disturb the actual sleepers- they need their rest so desperately. I can explain it to him tomorrow.
As I lay my head onto my pillow, I can't help but sense how close Christopher is to me right now.
So close, yet so far away.
Chapter Five
When I wake up, my eyes immediately dart to Christopher's bed. His chest is rising and falling gently in sleep. I can't disturb him now…
My eyes go next to the bathroom. No one’s in it yet.
I climb out of bed and stretch before grabbing my satchel and stepping towards the bathroom.
“Good morning.”
I startle and turn around to see Holly perched on the window seat. Her red curls are in a neat ponytail and she’s wearing the same leather jacket she was wearing last time I saw her. She smiles wryly.
If someone else were in my place, they might demand an explanation, or at least say ‘good morning’ back to her- but no, not I. Instead of being either sensible or polite, I do the most brilliant thing I can come up with (besides the aforementioned actions, of course): I scream.
In response, everyone but Grandmother, who never gets up before she chooses to, wakes up and either sits up or climbs out of bed.
“What is it?” Christopher demands, throwing off his covers. For a moment, I think I see a vial under there with him, but then his covers are over it again.
I mutely point at Holly (yeah, I’m so not being polite here).
“Holly?” Oto says softly before becoming angry. “What are you doing here?”
“How did you find us again?” Ata asks, checking her ears.
“I’m a pretty good tracker,” Holly answers. “I learned from the best.” She nods at Oto.
Oto says nothing and continues to glare at her.
“Now, what I want to know is why you came to Belgium,” Holly adds.
“We want to find Mommy and Daddy and Uncle-” Mary-Ann begins before I cut her off with a Look.
“They aren’t here,” Holly says.
“You don’t know that!” I cry.
“Yes, I do.” She picks up the remote and turns on the ancient TV. She turns it to the BBC news.
On the screen, a woman with long, very blonde hair and green eyes announces, “This is Delilah O’Neil with breaking news: the four children who disappeared during the shipwreck of the Queen of the Sea and were rescued almost two weeks later, have run away from home.”
Several pictures appear on the screen. One of them is the picture of Christopher and me that the paparazzi took as well as two professionally done photos of Chase and Mary-Ann that sit on the coffee table.
“The children were being watched by their grandmother while their parents were attending an important business meeting. It is assumed that the grandmother is currently with them.”
At this, even Grandmother wakes up.
“Here is what the distraught parents have to say,” Miss O’Neil adds before turning to my parents, uncle, and aunt.
My parents, uncle, and aunt!
“Do you have any idea why your children would run away or why your mother might have kidnapped them?” Miss O’Neil asks.
“My mother didn’t kidnap them,” Dad answers. “She would never do something like that. My theory is that they ran away and she, unable to bear the guilt of losing them a second time also hit the road.”
Grandmother chokes.
“Why would your children run away?” Miss O’Neil asks.
“Well, the ship-wreck and the events that followed traumatized them. My poor little girl was especially emotional after we recovered them.”
Thanks, Mom.
“Do you believe that it’s possible that your daughter ran away with Christopher Williams for romantic reasons?”
I am beginning to really not like this woman.
“No!” Mom and Dad cry in unison.
“Emily’s not like that,” Aunt Donna explains.
“And who takes their cousins n a romantic get-away?” Uncle Gerald adds.
“Okay, well, do you have anything to say to Emily, Mary-Ann, and Chase if they’re watching?”
“Yes,” Dad answers. Then he looks directly at the camera. “Emily, you take care of yourself and your cousins. I want you to all stay safe, wherever you are.”
He didn’t ask for us to come home. He knows why we left.
He knows because the Masters got him.
“No,” I whisper.
“And now let’s see what Mr. Williams, owner and proprietor of the popular chain ‘Regal Shopper’ among other things and parent of Christopher Williams has to say about this ordeal,” Miss O’Neil adds. She steps away from my family and towards Mr. Williams. “What do you plan to do to find your son?”
“I’ve been questioning all his contacts and checking all assets.” His voice is stiff.
Translation: they’ve been questioning all his contacts and checking into all his assets.
“Have you found anything?” Miss O’Neil asks.
“No, nothing at all.”
“What!” Joseph cries indignantly. “Doesn’t my disappearance count for something?”
“Yes, it does,” Christopher agrees. “Which is probably why my dad is covering it up. Now shh.”
“Are you going to keep running your business as usual?” Miss O’Neil asks.
“Yes; many people’s jobs are tied to mine, and I can’t abandon them, even for a family crisis. In fact, I have to catch a plane to Paris, France this evening. I have a very important business meeting to attend to, even if my heart lies elsewhere.”
“That’s very noble of you.”
Christopher’s dad doesn’t say anything; for a moment, he even looks guilty.
The show fades into commercials.
“But my dad didn’t have a business meeting in Paris tonight,” Christopher says before turning to Holly. “Do you think that that was the Masters subtle way of informing us where our parents are being held?”
“So we’re going to Paris?” I ask.
“You can’t,” Holly says. “It’s obviously a trap.”
“You don’t have a say here,” Oto retorts.
“But she does have a point,” Joseph says. “We have a dilemma: stay in hiding or attempt to rescue your parents and possibly be kidnapped.”
Everyone turns to me.
“Uh… we should go to the police.”
“Barmy,” Christian mutters.
We all turn to him and he holds up his phone that shows a text supposedly from his father. It simply says the police will be on our side. Don't make us hurt him.
Joseph frowns. “Well, it looks lik
e we're back down to two options then.”
The room begins to close in. My last security blanket is gone. And everyone's looking at me again
I straighten up. “I might have had doubts before, but now I know that if our places were switched, my parents would go to Paris to rescue me. How can we do anything less for them?”
“But they said to stay safe,” Ata points out.
“We’ll do it very cautiously.”
“I agree,” Christopher says, not looking at me and I feel the misunderstanding of last night standing between us.
But then he turns directly at me and it's like it never happened. Like he can just move on and pretend that everything's fine even though he thinks it's not. Maybe he doesn't care. Or maybe it's a survival mechanism. Or maybe I just need to get my priorities straight. “I gave my word that I would do everything in my power to rescue your family, and I intend to keep it.”
Grandmother nods.
“Besides,” I add, “I’ve always wanted to go to Paris.”
~~~
“Why are you still here?” Ata asks Holly as we get ready to go.
“I’m coming with you.”
Oto scowls. “No. You’re. Not.”
Holly turns to face Oto, causing her ponytail to come alive with movement. “Why not?”
“Because you’re one of them.”
“You of all people should know that I’m not with them.”
“Once upon a time, that's what I believed. But not anymore.”
An explosion is imminent, and I don’t have time for explosions. “Give us one good reason why we should let you join us, Holly,” I order.
She opens a mouth to answer, but then closes her mouth, as if she has a reason, but it’s classified or something.
“Well?”
“How are you going to stop me from following you this time?” Holly asks back. “Are you going to lock me in a bedroom again?”
“Of course not,” Oto answers, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Just then, Chase exits the bathroom. Oto takes the opportunity to push Holly inside.
“I’m going to lock you in a bathroom,” he finishes before slamming the door and locking it.
Holly pounds on the door. “Just wait until I get out, Oto! Just you wait!”
Oto grins.
I raise an eyebrow. Those two definitely have an interesting relationship. And that bathroom door is definitely interesting to have a lock on the outside.
“Come on,” Christopher says, his own eyebrow raised. “We need to catch the bus.”
“Right,” Grandmother agrees, grabbing Chase’s and Mary-Ann’s hands.
Together, we all head out, leaving a very angry Holly in the bathroom.
Hey, she should be happy. I had to share it with seven other people, but she has it all to herself. Some people can be so ungrateful.
~~~
As we climb onto the bus, we attract many strange looks. I duck my head so that my hair envelopes my blushing face. Hopefully they don’t recognize us from TV…
Many of the seats are already taken, so I end up sitting between Joseph, who promptly logs into his laptop, and a complete stranger.
The stranger is a teenage girl who looks younger than I, but is probably older. She has one of those eternally youthful faces that will come in handy in her thirties, so it’s hard to tell. She has a black bob and doesn’t appear to be wearing any makeup except for mascara, which she’s wearing in excess.
“Hi, my names Mickey,” she greets happily in perfect English; though, she has a trace of an unfamiliar accent. “Well, actually, it’s Michaela, but Mickey’s my nick-name.” She gestures to her t-shirt, which sports Mickey Mouse. “Personally, I like Mickey much more than Michaela.”
She’s definitely younger than I am. “I’m Emily.”
“Hmm… Emily. Have we met before? You look familiar.”
“No, probably not. I’m not from around here.”
She shrugs. “Maybe I met your doppelganger or something.” Then she glances over to Joseph before looking down at his laptop. He’s looking up Mr. Williams. Her eyes widen, causing her black, black eyelashes to stand out.
Maybe she is older.
“I know!” Mickey cries. “You’re that one kid who ran away in Great Britain; the one who miraculously survived in the ocean for almost two weeks.”
“I am?” I squeak.
She nods enthusiastically, mussing up her bob, making her look all the more youthful.
Okay, maybe she’s younger.
“Are you with your two cousins and that Christopher fellow?” she asks. “What about those other two kids you were rumored to be rescued with? I know they weren’t mentioned as runaways, but still…”
I don’t answer. I can’t.
Her eyes gleam, but I can tell that her enthusiasm masks a sharp mind.
Hmm, maybe she really is older.
“Wait, don’t tell me,” she orders. “Let me guess. Those two kids playing pat-a-cake over there are your cousins.” She point over to Mary-Ann and Chase. “And that woman sitting next to them; that’s your grandmother, isn’t it?”
I nod since I’m not sure what else to do.
“I wondered if she ran away with you. Okay, that laughing boy with black curls sitting near the front is one of the mysterious kids, isn’t he?”
I nod again.
“And that dark-haired girl sitting completely still in the back of the bus is the other one, isn’t she? Oh! And that cute guy with the blonde curls sitting next to her is Christopher right.”
I look back. I hadn’t realized that Christopher and Ata were sitting next to each other. I don’t like it.
“So, am I right?”
“Yeah, you’re right,” I manage to say.
She grins. “You guys must have lives of adventure. You are so totally lucky. Meeting you has got to be the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me, you know.” Then she stops smiling and leans closer to me. “But I’d be more careful if I were you. If you want to keep of your life of adventure, than you ought to wear disguises or something.”
Yep, she’s definitely older. “Got it. Thanks for the advice.” Except, it’s not the adventure part that I want to keep up; it’s the life part.
Mickey suddenly smiles again. “So, have you and Christopher ever kissed?”
The question surprises me so much that I don’t even blush. “Uh… no.”
“Do you want to kiss him?”
“Uh…” I have no idea how to answer that question. At this moment, even the truth seems scared out of me, leaving me with something I know would be a lie any other time. “No?” Not under this girl's scrutiny, anyway.
“You’re crazy, girl. What about the other boy? Do you like him? No, wait; first tell me why did you run away?”
Before I can even think about how to answer either question, she goes on. “Wait, that sounded pushy, didn’t it? Sorry, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. Oh! Except for where you got your shoes. You have to tell me that. They are so cute!”
I smile. I like Mickey- I can’t help it. She has such an ease around her; a special kind of confidence. I’ve always wanted to be confident like that. “I got these shoes back in Alabama.”
Mickey whistles. “Wow, you’re all over the place, aren’t you? Lucky. I’ve only been in Washington DC and Belgium. My dad’s the ambassador.”
“That’s pretty neat. My parents are free-lance inventors.”
“Do they make phones and gadgets and stuff? Because if they do, then I bet you get a lot of cool prototypes and promos to play with.”
“Well, they do phones sometimes, but they do all kinds of things. Right now, they’re working on manufacturing miniature assistance robots.”
“That's so cool!”
I shrug.
The bus comes to a stop, and suddenly Mickey frowns- something that seemed as unlikely as Christopher smiling. “This is my stop. I have to meet my dad here. We’r
e going on a family vacation for a few weeks. I’ll be able to say I’ve been to Switzerland and Italy by the time we’re done.”
“Well, have fun.”
She smiles and waves energetically before making her way off the bus.
I lean back in my seat and look over Joseph’s shoulder. He’s emailing someone. I watch as he types: You’ll want to know.
Whoever he’s emailing emails back: You shouldn’t eavesdrop.
“Who are you emailing?” I ask,
Startled, Joseph shuts his laptop. “I hate it when people look over my shoulder. And it’s none of your business anyway.” He glances ever so subtly behind him, but I see who he looks at. Christopher is staring at his smart phone with a perplexed look.
“What’s the big deal?” I ask. “There’s no need to be sneaky about emailing your best friend.”
“Er, right. It’s just that you startled me.” Joseph reopens his laptop, but he’s careful to position it away from me.”
“Whatever,” I mutter. Then I pull Emma (I’ve read it before, but Oto and Ata’s nickname for me makes me want to read it again) out of my satchel. My stop won’t be for a while.
~~~
“What do you think?” I ask, sliding on a pair of sunglasses.
Christopher barely glances at me. “I can hardly recognize you,” he says blandly.
I slide the glasses back off. “This is serious. If Mickey could recognize us, than others will.”
Christopher shrugs and half-heartedly plucks another pair of sunglasses off the rack and studies it.
“But do you think a pair of glasses and a hat is enough to keep us from being recognized?”
“No. It'll only make us look like a bunch of people with something to hide.”
I glance down to where my cousins are trying on quirky sunglasses. “Yeah, we’re really suspicious.” Then I glance over to where Joseph is sitting at the bus stop. “How much longer until the next bus gets here?”
Joseph looks up at the laptop and checks the schedule. “Fifteen minutes.”
I nod and turn back to the hat and glasses stand. “Ooh, Christopher, this hat is perfect for you.” I gesture to a hat that simply says ‘I’m a survivor.’
“It’ll fit you too.”