by Tom Leveen
“What’s up?”
“What’s up? I’m scared to death, that’s what’s up.”
He twisted his mouth around a couple times. “Scared, or afraid?”
“I just said I was scared. You don’t listen so well, Harowitz.”
“That’s true,” he said, grinning. “What I’m saying is that ‘scared’ is an adrenaline dump. It’s that fight-or-flight thing. Scared helps keep you alive. Afraid is . . . it’s a lifestyle. It’s a slow burn, always on. So you’re scared, or you’re afraid?”
I’d never thought about distinguishing between the two. Terrified, horrified, afraid, fearful, scared—synonymous to me. But I saw his point. I didn’t answer right away.
“Okay,” I said. “Scared, then.”
“That’s good,” David said. “I mean, good that you’re not afraid.”
“I just don’t want to go in there,” I said, gazing at the monumental building beyond my passenger-side window.
“Me either,” David said. “And I’ll take you home right now if you want. But then you’d have to have lunch all by yourself. And that would suck for me.”
He smiled. It settled my nerves just a bit.
“They’re going to stare,” I said.
“Probably.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Lying to you won’t help. Yes, they’ll stare. Some of them. But honestly, a lot won’t. And the ones that do, so what?”
“Will you beat them up for me if they do?”
“Excuse me, I just got my stitches out from being shot,” David said with faux indignation. His wound had been ugly but not bad. He’d been able to come home after a few days in the Canyon City hospital.
“And besides,” he went on, “if anyone in this car can kick someone’s ass, it’s you. Don’t tell me you forgot what you can do when someone makes you mad. I mean, I wouldn’t cross you, and I know wing chun.”
“And tap,” I said.
“Yes, and tap.”
Finally I smiled back at him. Couldn’t help it. Then my calves burned, aching for relief, to bleed, to drain the pressure and stress off what I had to do next. What I’d chosen to do next. But I couldn’t cut now. Not now, and not here. Maybe when I got home.
And maybe not even then. David knew about the cuts, and now so did my family; I’d had to explain why and how I came to have a razor blade in my pocket that awful night. I’d told Dr. Carpenter right away too, when I went back for my first appointment. She didn’t act surprised, and she didn’t tell me to stop. She just asked if I wanted to work on stopping. And I said yes.
I was already five days in, so. That was something.
“Is there a smoking section?” I asked.
“No, but I know the people who know where you can get away with it. I’ll introduce you.” He smirked. “I got a guy.”
“Nice.”
“You’re still going to quit, right?”
“Someday.”
“It’s a lot easier to kiss you when you haven’t been smoking. Just, you know. FYI.”
“Someday soon,” I corrected.
“Cool,” David said. And kissed me. I hadn’t smoked yet that morning. “Ready to go?”
I nodded, and we climbed out of his truck. As I expected, even before we reached the sidewalk, a few people turned their heads to look at me. Or maybe they were looking at us. Meaning, as an “us.” I don’t know. But a few of them smiled. So that wasn’t so bad. One guy even flexed a fist and gave me an approving scowl.
I took David’s hand in mine. He looked down at them entwined, then up at me. He grinned, and bobbed his head toward the imposing redbrick building.
“You got this, you know,” he said as a bell rang. “You can do it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I got this.”
I wished, of course, that Tara was on my other side. I wondered what she’d think of David. I wondered if she was still out there, like Jody had been, or if something worse had happened. If there was any chance I’d see her again.
And I wondered if I’d ever stop wondering. Probably not. That was okay. I still had to do this part. I knew she’d want that.
Hand in hand with David, I walked into school.
About the Author
Tom Leveen is the author of manicpixiedreamgirl, Party, Zero (a YALSA Best Book of 2013), Sick, and Random. A frequent speaker at schools and conferences, Tom was previously the artistic director and cofounder of an all-ages, nonprofit visual and performing arts venue in Scottsdale, Arizona. He is a native of Arizona, where he lives with his wife and young son.
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
SIMON PULSE
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First Simon Pulse hardcover edition August 2015
Text copyright © 2015 by Tom Leveen
Jacket photograph copyright © 2015 by Stephen Mulcahey/Arcangel Images
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Leveen, Tom.
Shackled / Tom Leveen. — First Simon Pulse edition.
p. cm.
Summary: When Pelly sees her best friend, who disappeared six years ago, in a coffee shop with a strange man, she’s determined to discover the truth of her friend’s disappearance and rescue her from her current captor.
[1. Kidnapping—Fiction. 2. Best friends—Fiction. 3. Friendship—Fiction. 4. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 5. Emotional problems—Fiction. 6. Mystery and detective stories.] I. Title.
PZ7.L57235Sh 2015
[Fic]—dc23
2014022800
ISBN 978-1-4814-2249-9 (hc)
ISBN 978-1-4814-2251-2 (eBook)