Thr3e

The night seemed to disappear around him. He floated on a cloud. They looked at each other, suddenly awkward.

“I should go now,” she said.

“Okay.”

She turned and ran toward her house. Kevin spun around and tore home, and honestly he wasn’t sure if his feet really were on the ground. He did like Samantha. He liked her very, very much. Maybe even more than his mother, which was pretty impossible.

The next few days floated by like a dream. He met Sam two nights later and they made no mention of the kiss. They didn’t need to. They resumed their playing as if nothing at all had changed between them. They didn’t kiss again, and Kevin wasn’t sure he wanted to. It might somehow spoil the magic of that first kiss.

Sam didn’t come to his window for three straight nights, and Kevin decided to sneak out and go to her house. He took the greenway past the two houses between his and Sam’s on light feet, careful not to make the slightest sound. You could never know who might be out at night. They had hidden from the sound of coming voices and approaching footsteps a hundred times before.

A half-moon sat in the black sky, peeking around slowly drifting clouds. Crickets chirped. Sam’s house came into view and his heart thumped a little louder. He eased up to the picket fence and peered over it. Her room was on the bottom floor; he could see the faint glow of light past the tree in front of the window. Please be there, Sam. Please.

Kevin glanced around, saw no one, and pushed aside the board Sam had loosened long ago. Her dad might be a cop, but he’d never found this, had he? That’s because Sam was smart too. He climbed through and brushed his hands. Please be there, Sam.

Kevin took a step. The tree in front of Sam’s window moved. He froze. Sam? Slowly a dark head and then shoulders came into view. Someone was peeking into Sam’s room!

Kevin jerked back, panicked. The form stood taller, angling for a better view. It was a boy! A tall boy with a sharp nose. Staring in on Sam!

A dozen thoughts screamed through Kevin’s head. Who? What was the boy doing? He should run! No, he should yell. Was that Tommy? No, Tommy had longer hair.

The boy spun around, stared directly at Kevin, and then pushed his way past the tree. He stood tall in the moonlight, and a terrible smile twisted his face. He took a step toward Kevin.

Kevin didn’t bother with the loose plank—he went over the fence faster than he could have ever imagined possible and ran for a large tree on the edge of the greenway. He pulled up behind it, panting.

Nothing happened. There was no sound of ru

Nothing.

Another five minutes and he was peering over the fence again. Nothing. Whoever the boy was, he’d gone.

Kevin finally worked up the courage to tap on Sam’s window. She climbed out, all smiles. She was waiting for him, she said. Waiting for the dashing young man to come to the window of the maiden. That’s how it was done in the movies.

He told her about the boy, but she found it fu

Three nights went by before Kevin saw the boy again—this time in the greenway on his way home. At first he thought it was a dog or some animal ru

For the first time in a year, he went out for a second time in the same night—prince charming to check on his damsel in distress. He didn’t really expect to see anything.

Kevin poked his head over the fence in Sam’s backyard and went rigid. The boy! He was there, peering into Sam’s window again! He’d waited until Kevin went home and then snuck up to her window to spy on her!

Kevin ducked and tried to calm his breathing. He had to do something! But what? If he yelled and then took off ru

He went up slowly for another peek. The boy was doing something. He had his face planted against the window and was . . . he was moving his face around in circles. What was he doing? Kevin blinked. Was he . . . ? A chill snaked down Kevin’s spine. The boy was licking Sam’s window in slow circles.

Something ballooned in Kevin’s head. Whether it was rage or just plain terror, he couldn’t be sure, but he spoke while courage strengthened him.

“Hey!”

The boy spun around. For one long, still moment, they stared at each other. The boy stepped forward and Kevin fled. He bolted through the greenway, pumping his ski

Ten minutes later the night slept in silence. But Kevin couldn’t. He felt trapped in the small room. What was the boy doing? Had he been stalking Sam every night? He had, hadn’t he? Kevin had only stumbled on him twice, but there was no telling how long the boy had been stalking Sam.

An hour passed, and Kevin could hardly shut his eyes, much less sleep. That’s when he heard the tap on his window. He bolted up in bed. Sam! He scrambled to his knees and lifted the shade.

The boy stood at the back fence, head and shoulders in plain view. He stared directly at Kevin, twirling something in his hand. It was a knife.

Kevin dropped the shade and flung the covers over his head. He lay trembling for two hours before peeking again, ever so carefully, just barely lifting the shade. The boy was gone.

The next three days dragged by like a slow nightmare. Each night he peeked out his window a hundred times. Each night the backyard remained vacant except for the doghouse and the toolshed. Each night he prayed desperately for Sam to come for a visit. She’d talked about going to a camp, but he couldn’t remember exactly when she was supposed to go. Was it this week?

On the fourth night, Kevin couldn’t wait any longer. He paced in his room for an hour, peering out of his window every few minutes, before deciding that he had to check on Sam before the anxiety killed him.

It took him half an hour to work his way up to her house, using the trees in the greenway as cover. The night was quiet. When he finally inched his head over Sam’s fence, her light was out. He sca

He collapsed at the base of the fence with relief. She must be at that camp. Maybe the boy had followed her there. No. That was stupid. How could a boy follow a girl all the way to camp?

Kevin eased his way back to the cover of the greenway and headed home, feeling at ease for the first time in nearly a week. Maybe the boy had moved. Maybe he had found something else to occupy his sick little mind.

Maybe he had snuck into Sam’s room and killed her.

He pulled up. No. Kevin would have heard about that. Her father was a cop and—

A blunt object slammed into the side of Kevin’s head and he staggered. A groan broke from his throat. Something wrapped around his neck and jerked him upright.

“Listen, you little punk, I know who you are and I don’t like you!” a voice snarled in his ear. The arm jerked him around and shoved him against a tree. Kevin wobbled at arm’s length from his attacker. The boy.