by Hannah Jayne
“If you’re not here for the first head count, she’s not going to be missing you for the one later. She doesn’t look like a teacher who’s lost students, and we get a couple of extra hours to really explore. Why? You gonna come with me?”
Riley glanced out the bus window, her mother’s admonitions ringing through her head. She could get lost or murdered or kidnapped—
Her stomach turned to liquid.
What if she already had been kidnapped?
Riley turned back to JD. “So how do you make Carter mess up her count?”
• • •
Riley’s heart sped up as the bus slowed down. Shelby’s head was lolled to the side, her temple against Riley’s shoulder, her lips slightly parted as she snored. Riley glanced down at her then gave her a small shake.
“Shelby!”
“What?”
Riley bit her bottom lip. She never lied to Shelby, never kept anything from her. “I’m not going to go on the tour.”
Shelby gaped. “What are you talking about?”
“Jane.”
Shelby rolled her eyes. “What about her?”
Riley didn’t know what to say. “I’m going to find her.”
“You looked online. What else is there?”
She pressed her sweaty palms against her jeans. “There was a missing poster on my computer last night.”
Shelby’s mouth dropped open, but she didn’t say anything.
“I have to find out about Jane, Shelby. I have to know—if she’s me.”
“So go home and ask your parents. Ask to see your birth certificate—after we get home. What can you do about it now anyway? It’s not like you’re going to find Jane O’Leary in the university library or something.”
Riley felt butterflies flapping in her stomach. “We’re going to be near the train station. I can take the train to Oregon. To Granite Cay.”
Shelby’s eyes narrowed. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Riley felt suddenly deflated. Then baby Jane, smiling, slapping the water in her dream, flashed in her mind. “Will you at least cover for me?”
Shelby blew out a long sigh. “Do you even have a plan?”
Riley held up the folded birth certificate and even without opening it, she knew that Shelby knew exactly what it was.
“And if it’s true? If you’re really Jane and your parents stole you, what then?”
Riley’s stomach turned over, the bile itching the back of her throat. She didn’t want to consider what happened after; she just wanted to find Jane Elizabeth.
• • •
Riley clutched her backpack on her lap, waiting for the bus to lurch to a stop. Mrs. Carter clutched the bus seats as she walked, silently counting. Riley got up the second the teacher turned and started talking to someone.
“Where are you going?” Shelby hissed, one hand on the hem of Riley’s sweatshirt.
Riley shook her off. “So Carter doesn’t count me. Tell her my mom drove me in, but I’ll be riding the bus back.”
Generally, the security at Hawthorne High—and for all school events—was top notch. But Mrs. Carter had recently been divorced, lost seventy pounds, and dyed her hair an awful shade of burnt sienna that completely clashed with her too-small eyes. Everyone knew she had her sights set on blowing off Hawthorne and would have, had a teacher not been killed last year. Things were shuffled, teachers were moved, and Mrs. Carter stayed on, greeting her students every morning with unmasked disdain. On Mondays, she made an effort, and Riley and her class were weighed down with SAT vocab lists and reading assignments. By Friday, she was racking up points on her Words with Friends game, and as long as her students shuffled their papers to the front of the room and kept decently quiet, they were pretty much on their own.
If Mrs. Carter didn’t want us in her classroom, Riley reasoned, she sure as hell didn’t want us on this bus trip.
“Let me guess,” Shelby whispered before letting Riley go. “Wise words from JD?”
Riley didn’t answer—she was trying to remember the exact strategy JD had whispered in her ear twenty minutes ago—and Shelby groaned. “Just don’t come to me for bail money.”
Riley shouldered her backpack and shimmied to the back of the bus, grabbing for the restroom door.
OCCUPIED.
Damn it.
She slammed her fist against the door and eyed Mrs. Carter as she continued her walk-and-count, stopping every few seats to look up from her iPhone. Riley considered just going back to her seat. Shelby was right—Riley wasn’t a sleuth, and her last stab at reckless adventure had been learning to skateboard without wearing a helmet. She bit her lip, looking at the back of her vacated seat then eyeing the closed bathroom door. Maybe fate was telling her to forget about it…
Defeated, Riley dropped her hands to her sides and spun to return to her seat, her boring adventureless life, but the bus lurched, slamming her backward. She tried to regain her footing but was instantly flung forward. Riley saw the red OCCUPIED sign coming directly at her and tried to throw up her hands, to do something to block the thing from being permanently stamped onto her forehead, but her hands were twisted on the straps of her backpack.
She was going down face-first directly in front of a rental bus’s bathroom. If skipping out with JD didn’t get her killed, flopping down there would.
“Ge—” Riley didn’t get to finish her howl—or taste bus bathroom linoleum—because the door swung open and she fell right inside, right up against—
“JD!”
They were chest-to-chest, one of his arms wrapped around Riley, his palm at her lower back. His other hand was at his chin, index finger pressed against his upturned lips. “Shhh,” he coaxed, as he pulled the bathroom door shut.
Riley straightened quickly, heat going from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.
JD was grinning a wicked, cocky grin, and Riley pressed her back up against the door, doing her best to put as much space between them as possible.
“I have to say I’m a little bit surprised to see you. But a little part of me”—he held his thumb and forefinger a quarter-inch apart—“knew you’d come.”
Riley scrunched up her forehead in her best as if expression and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She planted her feet to avoid another crash into JD’s surprisingly solid chest. “Maybe I just had to go to the bathroom, you pervert.”
JD jutted his chin toward Riley’s backpack. “With all that?”
Anger snaked up her spine. “It’s none of your—”
“Shut up,” JD whispered, head cocked.
“How dare–”
JD’s eyes flashed, and Riley snapped her mouth shut, hearing Mrs. Carter’s shuffling feet right outside the door. “Now remember our meet-up spots, everyone,” she was saying in her already-exhausted voice. “Go directly to the lettered tables to pick up your group.”
JD paused for a beat then grinned. Riley remembered that grin from detention. Even as they sat in the classroom in dead silence, JD was always snaking things from the teacher’s desk when her back was turned or hacking into some computer system under the guise of homework. His eyes would go innocent and wide when he was suspected—then he would flash that smirk at Riley when he was cleared. It was warm and familiar…and she kind of liked it.
“So am I really to believe that the goody-goody Riley Spencer is skipping out on the college tour?” He went palms up. “Oh, wait. I meant the goody-goody Riley Spencer was bringing her luggage to take a pee. That makes more sense”
A little ripple of annoyance roiled through her. Riley straightened her shirt and put a hand on her hip. “I’m not that goody-goody. I was in detention too, you know.”
“I know, Sleeping Beauty. So.” JD raised his eyebrows and jutted his chin toward the outside. “Riding the rails, Riley Spenc
er?”
Riley’s mind ticked. She thought about the birth certificate, about the fact that she had no plan whatsoever. She thought about Shelby and her “this isn’t who you are” speech. She shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. I do it all the time.”
JD seemed vaguely interested. “Oh yeah? So who you going to go see? Got some boyfriend out here?”
“If you must know, I’m going to see my friend.”
“Your friend—?”
“Jane.” Riley just spit it out, surprising even herself.
JD nodded, impressed. “Be sure to tell your friend Jane that I said hi.”
“I will.” Riley turned and went for the door.
“Not yet,” JD said, looking far too comfortable sitting on the tiny sink. “Wait for the bus to clear. The driver will be last.”
They dropped into silence, JD pulling a curl-edged book from the inside of his jacket. He began reading.
Riley glanced at the fake wood paneling up the walls of the restroom. It was everywhere, from ceiling to floor. It made the space look small. Too small.
Her chest was tightening, her breath becoming strained. Her eyes shot from corner to corner, desperate for a way out.
Not now, not now, not now, she commanded herself.
But the walls weren’t listening. Panic started to rise in her chest, began to blot out the little bit of breath she was getting.
“What’s wrong?” JD whispered, actual concern in his gold-flecked eyes.
Riley shook her head, unable to answer, unable to get enough air into her lungs to make a sound. Her fingers and toes started to tingle; her eyes started to water. Every one of her joints felt weighted down. She couldn’t move. She was in a coffin, weighted air pinning her arms to her sides. She felt a tear roll over her cheek.
“No, no,” JD said, closing the distance between them. “Don’t do that. Don’t panic.”
But the walls were closing in. Everything was getting darker, pushing against her. She clawed at her chest, at her neck. Oh God, she couldn’t breathe. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. I should run, she thought. I can turn around and open the door and run.
Riley did her best to turn around. She knew the door was there—it had to be there.
Tighter. The walls. Her breath.
Suddenly, there were arms around her. JD crushed her to his chest, pressing her head into his neck. She felt his lips at the part of her hair. She felt his feet pushing hers as he spun her around, yanking the tiny rectangle window open.
Riley tried to push back. The window made it worse. The screen was a tight metallic mesh that mocked her, assured her that she’d never get out. When she saw the blade, her panic had consumed her, was paralyzing every brain cell and synapse.
She was sure she was moving her lips, sure she was asking questions, but the blood thundered through her ears, blocking everything out. JD’s arm went over her shoulder, the blade tight in his fist.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage. Her lungs burned, desperate for her to breathe. She watched the glistening steel blade slice through the window screen, making an X through it. Somewhere, the knife clattered into the sink, the screen was torn away, and Riley was pushed toward the now open window.
“Breathe, Riley,” JD commanded.
She did as she was told, sucking in a huge gulp of outside air that inflated her lungs but still made them burn. It wasn’t enough.
“It’s OK, Riley. You’re OK. You’re OK. Keep breathing.”
Another tortured breath. A slow burn.
She turned to JD, her eyes huge and glassy. He immediately pulled her into him, his lips against her ear.
“It’s OK. Listen to my heartbeat. Do you hear it?”
She nodded dumbly, unable to do anything else.
“OK,” JD whispered. “Think about that. My heart. Your heart. Now take a breath.”
Riley did as she was told, the action becoming rote.
“That’s right. In, out.”
It was becoming easier to breathe. Riley’s lungs opened up and the weight on her chest lessened. Pins and needles shot through her extremities, and she slowly unclenched fists that she didn’t remember making. The walls stopped their slow drift inward. She sprang back from JD, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, dragging the back of her hand against her cheeks.
“Don’t be. Panic attack, nothing to be ashamed of.”
Claustrophobia, Riley thought, unwilling to correct him. She cleared her throat.
“Didn’t you get the memo? This is high school. We’re supposed to be ashamed of everything.”
JD grinned. “I forgot you were kind of funny, Spence.”
Riley shoved JD aside and squinted out the paperback-sized window, now void of a screen. “We’re at the university.” She spun toward the door. “We should go before—”
JD shrugged. “You can go whenever you want.” He pulled a black backpack out from somewhere and grinned that stupid smile of his, that smile that was somehow familiar and calming, then shimmied around her. “Bus is empty.”
Riley grabbed her bag and hurried behind him, still whispering. “How do you know it’s clear?”
He looked over his shoulder. “Six-hour ride and the Marlboro man without a smoke? It’s as clear as it’s going to get.”
A wisp of smoky air curled in through one of the open bus windows, and Riley felt her eyebrows go up. JD knew his stuff.
The train station was directly across from the university, and Riley tried to mimic JD’s nonchalant gait, even as her blood pulsed through her body and her heart thudded in her throat. She glanced over her shoulder just before she and JD reached the station, just before she pulled open the door. Behind her, the university greens lolled and college students hung out with books and friends, looking Norman Rockwell–wholesome. Riley gulped heavily and felt her skin tighten when a black-and-white police car pulled in front of the stopped bus, doing a slow crawl around the U-shaped drive.
She wondered if her mother called them.
She wondered if they were looking for her.
Then Riley wondered absently which mother was looking. The thought was errant, out of nowhere, but stabbed Riley in the gut.
I’m Riley Allen Spencer, she reminded herself, and I’m being a total drama queen.
Her own inner voice sounded off. Riley Allen Spencer sounded like a stranger. The realization hit like a fist in Riley’s gut, and JD eyed her. “You OK?”
She cut her eyes to the train station in front of her then back to the university behind. “Let’s just go in.”
The inside of the station looked like it hadn’t been touched in fifty years—but in a good way. The walls were covered with ornate woodwork, the floors some sort of granite or marble, buffed to a shine. She heard the click-clack of every footfall as people pushed past her, walking with purpose, knowing exactly where they needed to go. Riley stumbled backward, feeling even more like a child than she usually did.
Riley watched as JD strode right up to the lady in the booth. Within twenty seconds, the lady was laughing in a sweet, flirty way and pressing a ticket through the window toward him. Riley didn’t see him go to his wallet.
Riley turned and studied the train map so JD wouldn’t see her staring.
“You’re up, cupcake.”
Riley felt her eyes narrow. “I’m not your cupcake. And this is where our fun ends.”
An easy smile slid across his lips. “So you admit we’re having fun.”
“Miss? Do you need a ticket? You’ve only got seven minutes before the next train.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
Riley sucked in a breath and felt her heart pound in her chest. Why was I so nervous to buy a stupid train ticket? “One ticket to Granite Cay, please,” she said in her best fake-confidence voice.
&
nbsp; “Round trip?” the woman asked.
Riley flushed. “Um, yeah. Do you know when the train comes back here?”
The woman smiled and pressed a train schedule and Riley’s ticket through the slot in the window. Riley’s hands shook as she grabbed it. Get a grip! It’s just a stupid train ticket! That will lead me to baby Jane Elizabeth—and my parents?
That. Is. Not. My. Birth Certificate. I am Riley Spencer. I’m not some stolen, milk carton kid.
But maybe Jane Elizabeth was. She didn’t know why she felt such a pull toward this baby, toward this mystery, but she couldn’t dismiss it. Even when she slept, the baby and the birth certificate hung on the edge of her dreams.
And this was an adventure—something she would normally never do.
Electricity spiked through Riley, and that was probably why she didn’t notice the guy behind her. She turned, ticket tucked safely in her coat pocket, and smacked into him. “Oh,” she said, feeling her cheeks go hot and red. “Sorry.”
The man smiled kindly, his eyes taking Riley in from head to toe. He had a fatherly air about him, and she felt that little niggling of guilt. “Going to see my parents,” she sputtered to this perfect stranger.
He nodded, slight surprise in his eyes, and stepped around her.
Riley pushed away, still feeling the heat on her neck. When her cell phone blared out, she thought she would jump out of her skin.
“Oh, hi, hey, Mom.”
“Ry, you were supposed to call me the minute you got off the bus.” Her mother’s voice was slow and stern, and dread dropped low in Riley’s gut.
Just go back…
“And then I reminded your mother that this was your first trip with all your friends, and you were probably just getting shoveled off the bus and picking up your luggage. Right, turnip?” It was her father and his voice was cheery and friendly—and it sent guilt pinballing throughout Riley’s brain.
She cleared her throat and edged herself into a quieter nook. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry, guys, I screwed up. I was a little crazy because we just got off the bus.”
“So, you’re at the university now? Have you gone in yet?”