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I went back to gather my things at the edge of the pool, looking over my shoulder to check on the girl. Her red curls bounced as she swung in the sunlight. Her mother was still unaware of where she was or how close she’d come to losing her childhood i
Before climbing into my beat-up Chevy, I stopped at a pay phone near the restrooms, shaking my head with a smile.
I can’t believe I found one. Everyone uses cell phones. I thought these things were only in museums. It’s gotta be older than me.
Using my wet towel, I picked up the receiver, dialed 911, and reported the man—and I used the term man very, very loosely.
“You’ll find a man unconscious just inside the trees. Hurry before he hurts another child.”
“What’s your name?” the nasally dispatcher asked.
I dropped the receiver, letting the cord hang limp, and walked away.
Let them trace the call. There’s nothing pointing to me. I don’t want anyone finding out I was here. What do I say? I had a fu
As I drove away, I was struck by two things. First, what drew me to the girl? My eyes weren’t drawn to any other. In fact, I couldn’t remember the face of any other kid at the pool. My eyes wanted only her… searched her out. I knew I needed to watch her, knew that something was wrong.
And second, how did I know?
Chapter Two: More
Eight weeks, one day until my eighteenth birthday.
“What’d you do yesterday? I called you.” Muriel twirled her pen in circles on the dirty Formica table.
“Nothing exciting. Just laps at the pool,” I lied. I hadn’t stopped thinking about what happened at the park. I couldn’t get my mind wrapped around how I knew the man was going to hurt that girl.
She slapped her hand on the pen to stop it and looked at me. A perfect, jet-black eyebrow arched over her almond-shaped eye. “Gee, ever think of asking your best friend and swim teammate to go along?”
I cringed. “Sorry, it was a last-minute decision.”
She pointed at me. “Don’t let it happen again,” she said through clenched teeth. Her black, stick-straight hair fell over her shoulder. I burst out laughing. She dropped her finger and shoved my shoulder, laughing with me.
Our calculus teacher marched into class like one of the British Royal Army’s soldiers in a parade with those red uniforms and the knee-high marching steps—arms full of books and files.
I wonder what Muriel would’ve thought about the guy in the trees—what she would’ve done.
Halfway through class, Muriel texted me. I reached for my cell phone and looked to make sure the teacher wasn’t watching before I read the message. That was when I saw him.
His body angled in his seat, and his head turned slightly toward me. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly, like he’d started to smile but decided against it just before it materialized.
I’d noticed him before—it was hard not to. Talk about easy on the eyes. We had English together. I knew him, but we didn’t travel in the same circles. In fact, as far as I could tell, he didn’t travel in any particular circle. He kept to himself and seemed to prefer it that way.
I looked away quickly, feeling my cheeks warm.
Great, I’m blushing. Nice look. Red cheeks and red, curly hair—just like Bozo the Clown. Homecoming queen material. No need to vote; I’ll just take my crown. Yeah, sure.
When my eyes darted back in his direction, he’d turned and faced forward. I felt a small pang of disappointment. Looking down, I read Muriel’s text.
Muriel: Go to the mall after school?
Me: Sure.
Muriel: I’ll drive.
Me: K.
Muriel: What was that look?
Me: What look?
Muriel: Between you and the hottie.
I gri
Then why are your cheeks red? Muriel puffed her cheeks out at me.
Shut up! I typed and dropped my phone in my bag.
She laughed out loud, earning a glare from our calculus teacher.
****
I sighed when I turned the corner to my English class. He was waiting for me outside the door. Joe. I guess he had a crush on me. He always walked with me when our classes were near each other, and he parked his car conveniently next to mine, or Muriel’s if I rode with her, so he could walk into school with me. And he taped little drawings on my locker door. He was a great artist, but still.
Then there was the thing. The thing I dreaded, but happened every week. My hands started sweating and my stomach roiled when I looked at him—I knew it was coming. I hated it because I hated what I had to do. I didn’t want to hurt Joe’s feelings. He was a really nice guy, but I didn’t find him the least bit attractive or interesting with his mousy-brown hair, too-big glasses, and his constant prattle about the AV club.
“Hey, Milayna.” Joe smiled when he saw me, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger. I smiled back and stifled a groan.
“Hi, Joe.” I tried to blend in with a group of students walking into class and brush past him before he asked me the inevitable question.
“Hey, wait up,” he called.
I stopped just inside the doorway, sighed, and then walked back to where he stood, with his shoulder leaned against the lockers lining the wall. “What’s up?” I twisted my pencil in my fingers.
“You look pretty today. I like it when you wear your hair down and all… all… red and curly.”
“Um, thanks.” I shifted and adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder.
That’s good since my hair is red and curly.
“I was wondering…”
Oh no, here comes the thing. Please don’t ask me again. I squeezed the strap of my messenger bag so tightly my fingers ached. There’s only so many ways I can say no without being mean.
“…if you wanted to go out to a movie this weekend?” Joe reached out and put his warm, sweaty hand on my arm.
And there it is.
I sighed and moved my arm to push my hair behind my ear, so he had to pull his hand away. “Joe—” I started when movement caught my attention.
The hottie from calculus walked up beside me. “Hey, there you are.” He stood beside me, at least a head taller, his muscles flexing under his white T-shirt, which clung to him in just the right way as to hint at what lay beneath. His arm brushed against mine, and the unintentional touch was enough to send my nerves crackling. “I saved you a seat.” He winked.
What is he talking about?
“Thanks.” I turned back to Joe. “Uh, Joe, I can’t this weekend. Sorry,” I told him, my voice soft.
“Maybe another time?” He gave me a tight smile before looking the hottie up and down with narrowed eyes.
The so-hot-he-could-be-an-underwear-model guy from calculus gave Joe a friendly slap on the back. “I don’t think so, buddy.”
“Oh. Okay.” Joe looked between me and the tall, dark-haired guy, blowing out a breath. “See ya around, Milayna.” Joe turned and was swallowed up by the current of people rushing from one class to the next.
“‘Bye.” I turned, looking at the guy who saved me from Joe, and was sucked in by his marbled, blue-green eyes. “Thank you.”
“No problem. I’m tired of watching you try to turn him down without hurting his feelings. Better just to be done with it.” He turned away, and I fumbled for something to say to keep him from leaving.
“I’m Milayna. You’re Chay, right?”
He nodded once. “Be careful. They’re here for you,” he murmured over his shoulder before he slipped into the classroom.
“Wait! What are you talking about?”