Betwixt

Dale shakes his head with a grin. "You're a Gleek aren't you?"

"No." I turn in my seat then sigh. "Maybe... okay yes, but if you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

"Why don't you want me to tell anyone. Glee's cool."

"Shut up. Glee is cool."

"It is."

Huh! Sarcastic much!

My eyes narrow as I gaze at him.

"I know you can't see it right now, but I'm giving you a very dry look."

"No, I can see it."

"You can?" My voice comes out all high and squeaky.

"In my head," Dale admits softly. "I can picture you really clearly in my head and I know that look. You do it a lot."

I don't know how to respond to this. He makes it sound as though he's been studying me since he arrived at our school about a year ago. I gaze at him in confused silence then glance down at my nails, suddenly awkward.

Leaning back in his seat, Dale pulls out his iPod and searches for music while trying to keep an eye on the road. A few minutes later, he's plugging it into the stereo with a grin.

"You know what's cooler than Glee though, right?"

Cranking up the volume, Dale lets Granite thump through the car.

A delighted laugh escapes my lips as Dale starts belting out the tune with gusto.

Within seconds I'm joining him.

We sing as loudly as we can, all the way to Dale's house.

CHAPTER TWELVE

I have no reason to be nervous about going into Dale's house, but I am. I step through the door and gaze around the interior. It's actually quite nice. Very plain and simple, but classy all the same. The walls are wooden, giving it that log cabin feel, I bet there's a fireplace in the living room. I glance at the solid wooden ba

Dale's mother appears around the corner.

"Hey sweetie." She reaches up on tiptoes and gives Dale a kiss on the cheek.

Far out I think she's actually shorter than me! I didn't think that was possible.

Stepping back, she looks up with an adoring smile. "How was school?"

"Yeah, good."

His mother walks towards the kitchen.

"An eventful day?"

Dale looks over his shoulder with a wry smile. "You could say that."

"But a good one?" She turns at the kitchen counter. Her eyes are dancing with sweet merriment. It's really hard not to look at them.

Dale smiles and nods his head.

"Yeah, mom, it was great."

"Fantastic."

Far out, she looks as though she's about to cry. She obviously really wants Dale to do well at school, or be happy... or something. My heart gives a little squeeze as I watch her genuine interest as Dale runs through the bland parts of his day and makes up some excuse about why he's late.

"Di

"Awesome, I'm starving." Dale kisses her cheek and scoots up the stairs just off the kitchen.

I can't help gazing around the house as I follow him up the stairs and down the hallway to his room. The whole feel of the house is different to mine. It's much older - looks like it was built in the 70s or 80s. The carpet's been redone though, but with a nice rich burgandy color that gives the house a yummy warmth.

Yummy warmth? Really?

I shake my head. That's what it feels like. I don't know how else to describe it.

I run my hand along the wall, trying really hard to stop my fingers going through. I feel nothing and scowl as my digits pass through a painting.

"So this is my room." Dale opens his door.

I walk in and am once again hit by the warmth.

I wonder if my mom sold them this house. It's so not her style, but knowing her she would have chucked that warmth word in numerous times.

There's a double bed in the corner of the room with a bright green duvet. It's quite over powering, but I resist the urge to comment. It's his room, not mine. Dale dumps his bag next to his desk and scans the shelf above it.

"What are you looking for?"

"When we first moved here, Dad bought me a map book of the area. We highlighted a bunch of hiking trails we wanted to do."

"And let me guess, you haven't done any of them."

Dale looks at me with surprise. "No, we've done about eight so far."

"Oh." I run my fingers through my hair and turn away, feeling stupid.

"Here it is." He pulls it out and flicks through the pages. "Okay, so this is where we drove today." He rummages through his desk for a highlighter and crosses out the section of the road we drove on. "So maybe tomorrow I can get up early and we can do this section before school."

I look over his shoulder. "You'd have to get up pretty damn early."

"I know." He nods. "I just can't play hooky. I'm really sorry, but..."

His face bunches with regret.

"I'm not asking you to play hooky." The words come out a little snappier than I mean them to. I guess it just bugs me that he assumes I think skipping out of school is something I never put any thought into. What he will never know is that I've never missed a day of school when I've had an important test and I've never once handed in an assignment late. My hooky days always coincide with the days I can't bear facing the student population. I invite Amber because she's too self-absorbed to notice my moods.

"Should I be calling the police?" Dale's question makes me turn to face him.

"I don't think they take these kinds of cases seriously for at least 48 hours."

"Maybe the sheriff can help us."

"Sheriff Hutton?" I shake my head and start sca

"What if I tell him what I know."

I bob down to peruse Dale's book collection. "He'll wonder how you know this stuff. You can't tell him you can hear me. Everyone will think you're crazy."

"I can't just sit here and do nothing."

I stand up and face him, loving the fact he wants to try so hard.

"You need food and sleep, Dale. You're no use to me starving and hungry." I keep my voice as casual as I can. I'm right. I'm being sensible. There's nothing more we can do right now.

Fear coils in my belly.

I try to ward it off with distraction and move to Dale's second bookshelf. Man, this guy sure likes to read.

"You have some good titles here," I murmur.

"Yeah, well reading's good for the brain." He steps towards my voice.

I glide past him and move to his desk. It's in disarray with piles of books surrounding his computer. I notice a huge stack of pages in a neat pile and lean over to see what they are.

The Trojan's Secret by Dale Fi