Kitabı oxu: «Pretty Little Things»
JILLIANE P. HOFFMAN
Pretty Little Things
HarperCollinsPublishers
For Rich, as always, my rock And for the not-so-little lambs, Manda-Panda and Monster, who continue to inspire and amaze me
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Acknowledgments
About the Author
By the Same Author
Copyright
About the Publisher
Prologue
The small, portly man in the white suit, deep purple shirt and patent slipons ran around the stage with a microphone in hand, reaching out to touch any one of the hundreds of sweaty hands that waved back and forth before him in the Unity Tree of Everlasting Evangelical Life church auditorium. He slicked back a thick band of gelled gray hair that had broken form and swooped down across his forehead and over his eyes. The amazing camera work practically let you count the fine lines in the preacher’s full face, the beads of perspiration that rolled off his red cheeks and down through layers of neck fat.
‘Now when Moses went to meet the Israelites after their victory over the Midianites,’ the preacher boomed as he worked the stage from one end to the other, ‘he had all the princes and the priest, Eleazar, with him. And he sees what? What does he see that the Bible tells us made Moses so incredibly angry? He sees women!’ The crowd, which looked to be made up of mostly females, booed loudly.
Seated in his worn La-Z-Boy in front of the TV, the man nodded along with the church audience, watching the drama unfold on the television screen as though he had not already seen this video a hundred times before.
‘The Israelites have saved the women!’ the preacher boomed. ‘And Moses, well, he says, “So you’ve spared all the women? Why? Why, when they’re the very ones who have caused a plague to strike the Lord’s people! Why did you spare them?”’
Somewhere in the church audience, a female yelled, ‘Because they were men!’
The preacher laughed. ‘Yes! Because they were men. And because they were men, they were weak to the ways of women! To the smell of a woman and the taste of a woman and the feel of a woman!’
The man wiped his sweaty palm on the recliner’s worn armrest, nodding enthusiastically at the preacher’s words.
‘They were weak!’ the preacher continued. ‘And so these weak men spared these vile women who had wreaked havoc on their tribe. But Moses is not just upset, ladies and gentlemen. He doesn’t just say, “That was a stupid thing to do!” and leave it at that. No. Moses knows what will happen now that these vile women have been saved. Their delicious scent and their warm skin and their soft curves will soon sway their captors. Wickedness takes on many forms, folks. Many forms.’
The preacher summoned a young woman in the church audience then by pointing at her. She couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen. ‘Come on, child, come on up here.’ Encouraged by her parents and the enthusiastic crowd, the girl hesitantly climbed on stage. ‘Look at how beautiful she is,’ the preacher said, walking around the slight figure with his arms outstretched, as if she were an animal on a pedestal in the circus and he was the ringmaster introducing her to them. He sniffed exaggeratedly at her and smiled. ‘She smells good. She sure looks good. She doesn’t seem evil. What man would not be tempted?’ He turned back to the crowd. ‘Like many of us in our everyday lives, Moses must make a difficult decision. A terrible decision. One that many will find objectionable, but yet Moses – well, Moses knows it is necessary. A difficult choice, but a necessary one.’
A pregnant hush came over the crowd. ‘What does he tell them?’ the preacher asked his flock, staring as he did right into the eye of the camera, speaking to the thousands of lost sheep all across the country who waited on his every word. ‘What? He tells them – and this is right out of the Holy Bible, folks – he tells them, “Slay, therefore, every male child and every woman who has had intercourse with a man. But you may spare and keep for yourselves all girls who had no intercourse with a man.” What does that mean, folks? “Only the young girls who are virgins may live,” Moses says. “Only the virgins can live amongst your people. Only the virgins, those who are pure in thought and deed, can be saved.” Why? Because they are pure. They have not been corrupted.’ He looked back at the young girl on stage and bellowed, ‘Tell us, young lady, are you a virgin? Are you pure in thought and deed? God is watching you! Remember that! We are watching you! Are you pure in both thought and deed?’
The girl nodded as tears ran down her cheeks. She smiled at the preacher and then out at her parents. ‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘I am pure.’
The crowd went wild.
The man wiped his palm again on the easy chair. The preacher certainly was mesmerizing. He had the crowd eating out of his hand. Had the young virgin not been so pure, he would have had no problem rousing the masses to stone her, if that was what he so wished.
It was inspiring.
The man hit rewind on his remote, and while the tape noisily chortled in the VCR, he unfolded the brown canvas bag on his lap. He ran his fingers over the soft brush tips inside, finally selecting a flat bristle and his dull painting knife. He picked up his artist’s palette from the side table and slowly mixed his palette of carefully selected paints. The heavy scent of the oils was intoxicating. The tape started again from the beginning. As the preacher took to his stage, the people hailed him as though he were a general coming back from war. As if he was the Messiah himself.
The man listened to the sermon one last time as he worked the final touches on his latest piece, finding the raw energy of the preacher’s words to be as soothing and stimulating as a surgeon might find listening to classical music in the OR.
Like many of us in our everyday lives, Moses must make a difficult decision. A terrible decision. One that many will find objectionable, but yet Moses – well, Moses knows it is necessary. A difficult choice, but a necessary one. What does he tell them? What?
When he was done, the man turned from his work and put his brush into the turpentine mixture to soak. Next to the TV was his computer. He got up from the La-Z-Boy and moved to the swivel desk chair. His hands were shaking just a little as he rubbed a stubbly five o’clock shadow with fingers that were still wet with paint. On the screen before him, the pretty girl sat on her pink bed in her pink bedroom, surrounded by movie stars, pirates, and vampires, chatting on the phone while she tried to paint her toenails.
He tells them, ‘Slay, therefore, every male child and every woman who has had intercourse with a man.’
The man licked his lips and swallowed hard. For just a second he felt ashamed, wondering why it was he thought the things he thought. But it was too late to get a conscience. Neither his thoughts nor his deeds were pure. His soul was already damned.
But you may spare and keep for yourselves all girls who had no intercourse with a man.
He typed something on the computer and hit ‘send’, then watched as the pretty girl hopped off the bed and hurried with a smile across the room to her computer.
It was a simple question, but it had certainly gotten her attention, hadn’t it?
It always did.
r u online?
1
Lainey Emerson nibbled on the ragged nub of Crazy Glue and broken press-on nail that was still stuck to her thumb and stared hard at the computer. With her free hand on the mouse, she guided the arrow across the screen. Her palms were melting, and her heart was beating so hard and so fast it felt as if it was gonna push right out of her chest. The thousands of butterflies trapped in the pit of her stomach furiously fluttered their wings as the arrow approached the ‘send’ box. All she had to do was just hit the button. Hit the button and send the stupid two-sentence email that’d literally taken her – she looked at the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen and grimaced – hours to word just right. And still she hesitated, rolling the mouse back and forth in sweaty fingers.
You should never put anything in writing or in pictures that you wouldn’t want to see or read on the front cover of the New York Times, Elaine.
The ominous words sounded so loud and so clear in her head, Lainey could swear she smelled the stink of cigarettes on her mom’s breath as she preached them. She pushed back from her desk, shook the dire, ‘Don’t learn things the hard way like me!’ Parental Advisory Warning out of her brain and looked around her now almost-dark bedroom. Long shadows blacked out the faces on the dozen or so movie posters that covered her walls. Outside, all that remained of the late afternoon sun as it sunk into the Everglades were a couple of faint orange ribbons.
6:12? Was it really that late? She suddenly heard the quiet and realized the boisterous shouts from the roller-hockey game that’d been playing in the street all afternoon had stopped –the players and cheerleaders all long gone home to dinner and homework. Two things Lainey still hadn’t even started yet. And Bradley? She hadn’t heard from her little brother in a while, either. A long while, now that she thought about it. She chewed the inside of her lip. Usually a good thing, but so not a good thing now that her mom was gonna be home soon …
The front door opened and Lainey prayed it wasn’t her mother. It closed with a slam. Thirty seconds later gunfire erupted in the living room as Brad resumed blowing away cops on Grand Theft Auto, the dumb video game that he had to play at full blast just to annoy her. Anger quickly displaced relief and she regretted wasting a good prayer on her brother’s obnoxious wellbeing. At least he was home and she hadn’t lost him. She raised the volume on her Good Charlotte CD to drown out the screams and machine-gun fire and turned her attention back to the computer. She so needed to stay in the moment or she’d never be able to do this.
The picture on the screen glowed in the dark room, waiting impatiently to be shot off into cyberspace. A pretty girl she barely recognized, with sleek dark hair and smoky eyes, smiled provocatively back at her. A pretty girl Lainey still sheepishly thought looked nothing like her. Tight jeans and a midriffbaring T-shirt showed off a slim but curvy shape. Full, glossy red lips matched equally glossy, long red fingernails, which were posed confidently on her hips, like an America’s Next Top Model contestant – her friend Molly’s idea. Normally Lainey didn’t like how she looked in any picture, but, then again, normally she didn’t look anything like she did in this picture. Normally her waist-length unruly chestnut hair was pulled back in a low ponytail or put up in a clip, her boring brown eyes hidden behind wire-rimmed glasses. Normally she didn’t wear any make-up or jewelry or high heels or long red fingernails. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she wasn’t allowed.
But besides looking a little older than she was – and a little, well, sexy – Lainey rationalized that the picture wasn’t that bad that she wouldn’t want to see it in the newspaper. Some MySpace photos were a hell of a lot worse than this. It wasn’t like she was naked or doing porn or anything. The most you could see besides her stomach and the fake belly-button ring was the pink outline of the padded bra she’d stolen from her older sister Liza, under the white T-shirt that she’d also stolen from Liza. Maybe the jeans were kinda low and the shirt kinda tight, but …
Lainey shook the creeping, noisy doubts out of her head. She’d already taken the picture. She’d already broken the rule. And the truth was, she looked pretty hot, if she did say so herself. The real worry at this point was, what would Zach think when he saw it?
Zach. ElCapitan. Just the thought of him made Lainey’s hands sweat. She looked at the picture taped to the side of the computer screen. Blond hair, bright blue eyes, the quirkiest, sweetest smile, and just the cutest shadow of face gruff. And muscles … wow! She could see them even through his Hollister T-shirt. Nobody she knew in seventh grade had even the hope of either a muscle or a hair on their scrawny bodies. Since she’d met Zach a few weeks ago in a Yahoo chat room for the new Zombieland movie, Lainey had been forming a mental picture of what he might look like. This fabulous, funny guy who liked the same movies – even the really bad ones – listened to the same music, hated the same subjects, distrusted the same type of plastic people she did, had the same problems with his own parents. It would be too much to ask for him to be anything more than a geek with bad acne and even worse hair and an uncle who’d pulled strings to get him on the varsity football team. But then last Friday Zach had finally sent her a picture, and the very first thing she’d thought was, ‘Oh my God, this guy could model for Abercrombie & Fitch!’ He was that amazingly good looking. And what was even more amazing was that this totally cool, freakin’ captain of the football team with model looks liked her. That’s when she knew reciprocating with a snapshot of her own boring self just wasn’t gonna happen, especially since that self was still three years away from the sixteen she’d told him she was. A small fib that would definitely matter to a senior in high school being scouted by colleges. She knew he’d never be into that, and their friendship – or whatever it was that was happening between them – would be over before she could hit the reply button to his Dear Jane email. If he even bothered to send her one.
She nibbled off the last chunk of nail and spat it in the garbage. The entire fake set had taken her and her best friend, Molly, hours to put on last Saturday for the ‘photo shoot’, and only a few short seconds to rip off this morning in gym class. The nails were her favorite. Long and pointy and oh-so red. More than the shoes or make-up or wearing Liza’s clothes, it was those nails that had made her feel so … glamorous. So grown-up. She loved tinking them on glasses and rolling them impatiently on tables. It’d taken her the whole weekend to figure out just how to pick up a piece of paper! And now, like Cinderella’s ball gown and crystal coach, they were just a memory. At least Cindy got to keep a glass slipper as a memento of her time as a princess. All Lainey got was a chunk of chewed acrylic.
And, of course, a picture.
She stared at herself on the screen. That was it. If she thought about it any more she’d never do it. She closed her eyes, said a prayer and clicked the mouse. A little envelope zipped across the monitor.
Your message is on its way!
The cell phone in her back pocket buzzed and Gwen Stefani belted out ‘The Sweet Escape’. Molly. She blew out a long held breath. ‘Hey, M!’
‘Did you send it?’ an excited voice asked.
Lainey sighed and flopped back on her bed. ‘Finally, yeah.’
‘And?’
‘I haven’t heard back yet. I just sent it, like, two seconds ago.’
Molly Brosnan had been Lainey’s best friend since way back in kindergarten, and everyone – teachers, coaches, friends, parents – everyone always said, if the two of them looked even a little bit alike, they’d be identical twins. That’s how close they were. Or used to be, anyway. It was no coincidence Molly had called at almost the precise moment Lainey had clicked ‘send’. Things like that happened all the time – Molly thinking what she was thinking and vice versa. That’s what made this year suck so much. No matter what her mom said, different schools meant different lives. She picked the fuzz off her alien-green shag pillow. ‘I’m so nervous, M.’
‘What took you so long to send it?’
‘I’m a chicken.’
‘You have to call me the second you hear from him, Lainey.’
‘I will, I will. What do you think he’s gonna think?’
‘I already told you. You look hot. I mean it. He’s gonna love it.’
‘You don’t think I look fat?’
‘Please!’
‘Stupid?’
‘I wish I looked that dumb.’
Lainey sat up and stared at the computer across the room. ‘If I don’t hear back from him soon, M, I’m gonna freak! This waiting sucks.’
The bedroom doorknob suddenly began to violently jangle back and forth. ‘Lainey!’
‘Get lost, Brad! I mean it,’ Lainey yelled. ‘Get out of my room!’
‘You’re not allowed to close the door! Or lock it! Mom says!’
‘G’head and tell Mom, you tattle-tale! Lotta good it’s gonna do you, ’cause she’s NOT HERE! And I can’t wait till I tell her about you playing that video game you’re not supposed to play till after you’ve done your homework!’ she added as she fell back down hard on the bed.
‘Is that The Brat?’ Molly asked. ‘What’s he doing in your room?’
‘He’s not. He’s just outside the door. I can hear him breathing heavy through the crack. I wish I had some bug spray.’ Lainey squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I hate him sometimes, M. I swear it.’ Molly had a little brother, too, but hers was nice. Most of the time.
‘What’d he do now?’
‘He went through my books again. He drew mustaches on all of my Betty and Veronica comics and ruined them. Totally ruined them. He’s such an asshole.’
‘Did you tell your mom?’
‘Like that’ll do any good. Please. She probably gave him the comics and the marker ’cause the poor baby was bored.’ She sat up and reached for the bottle of nail polish on the cardboard box that was supposed to be a nightstand. She shook it and started to paint her toes.
‘You should tell her,’ Molly sniffed. ‘He shouldn’t be able to go into your stuff.’
‘She’s not home. She’s still at work.’
‘What about Todd?’
Todd was her stepdad and an entirely different story. If her mom babied Bradley, Todd definitely played favorites, which made sense, since Bradley was, after all, his kid and she wasn’t and that was life. ‘He’s not home yet, either, thank God. I’m babysitting.’ Lainey looked over at the door with a frown. ‘Not that he listens to me.’
‘Babysitting? Oooh. That means you’re in charge. My mom told Sean that corporal punishment is legal in Florida, which means she can use her hairbrush on his ass and you can beat Bradley’s with a belt.’ They both laughed.
‘If the prince gets a single bruise on his milky-white butt cheeks, I’ll be grounded till high school. Nice idea, but I’m just gonna IGNORE HIM while he breathes under my FREAKIN’ DOOR like a FREAKIN’ WEIRDO!!!’
The computer melodically blurped. An incoming IM.
Lainey looked over at the computer, her heart suddenly racing once again. She knew right away who it was.
| ElCapitan says: | r u online? |
‘Oh my God, M!’ she whispered into the phone. ‘He just IM’d me. What do I do?’
Molly laughed. ‘Tell him hello!’
‘Yeah, but that means he must’ve got the email.’
‘No it doesn’t. Maybe he’s IMing you from his BlackBerry.’
‘He doesn’t have a BlackBerry,’ Lainey stated defiantly, then added after a second, ‘at least, I don’t think he does.’
‘Whatever. You get my point. You don’t know he’s seen the picture.’
Lainey stood up and paced the room. ‘He wants to know if I’m here.’
‘Just say hi, you dork. Do it. Do it now.’
‘OK, OK …’ Hitting letters on the computer had never taken so much darn energy before. It felt like someone had poured lead into the tips of her shaking fingers.
| LainBrain says: | hi |
Deep breath. Stay calm. ‘OK, M. I did it.’
The computer blurped again.
| ElCapitan says: | just got home. practice ended late. Coach still pissed over last weeks game. |
‘What? What’d he say?’ Molly whined. ‘Tell me!’
‘Nothing. He said he just got home from football practice. Maybe you’re right. Maybe he didn’t get it?’ She paused for a second. ‘Or maybe he got it and he hates it! M!’
| ElCapitan says: | Got ur mess |
Lainey held her breath.
‘What’d he say? Lainey!’
| ElCapitan says: | Nice pic☺ |
Lainey let the air out all at once, as if someone had popped her screaming lungs with a pin. ‘He said nice pic, M! You think that’s good?’ Even asking the question, she couldn’t help but grin.
‘You’re a moron. I told you you looked hot. You better not let your mom see that picture. She’ll freakin’ flip. Speaking of flipping moms, mine’s downstairs having a breakdown. I gotta go eat. Say hi to Bradley Brat for me.’ She laughed. ‘Not.’
‘I’ll call you later.’ Lainey hung up the phone and stared at the words on the screen. She’d never felt this good before in her whole entire life. She wanted to scream. Then, another sentence appeared with a blurp.
| ElCapitan says: | even better than I pictured, and I have a great imagination … |
| ElCapitan says: | want 2 c even more of u |
Lainey felt her cheeks light up as she looked around the bedroom. There was, of course, no one there but her, but she still felt strangely embarrassed. What should she say to that? What would Liza say? Did he mean that the way she thought he meant that?
The door to the garage opened with a loud creak. ‘Brad? Elaine? Hello? Where is everyone? Why is this video game on?’ The sound of her mom’s irritated voice echoed through the house, along with the click-clacking of her high heels on the ceramic tiles. She heard Bradley run down the hall and into his room. Coward. Lainey mouthed the next words out of her mother’s mouth.
‘Elaine!’
‘I’m in my room!’
‘Get off that computer. Did you even start dinner?’
And it was back from the ball once again. Back to reality.
| LainBrain says: | GTG. P911. |
IM quick-speak for ‘Got to go – a parent is coming.’
| ElCapitan says: | who? |
| LainBrain says: | mom |
| ElCapitan says: | Damn! And we were just about 2 get on my favorite subject … |
The funny, uncomfortable feeling was back, and she pushed it aside. Why was she always such a baby? She had to get over that.
| ElCapitan says: | thought she worked late mondays |
| ElCapitan says: | or is that fridays? |
| LainBrain says: | fridays and every other monday. sorry about coach |
‘Elaine! Did you hear me? Off that friggin’ computer now!’
| LainBrain says: | ☺LTL. she’s pissed. |
LTL meant ‘let’s talk later’. Lainey opened up her Social Studies book to make it look like she’d been studying and crumpled a few pieces of notebook paper for effect, just in case her mom headed this way. Now it was time to boil hot dogs and listen to twenty minutes of shit as to why it was irresponsible of her to allow the aspiring psycho in residence to gun down cops and steal cars for two hours on the video game that his own dad had given him for Christmas. ‘Practice for the real world,’ Lainey wanted to say when the interrogation finally got started. ‘Let’s face it, Mom, Brad’s career options are gonna be limited.’ But that remark would probably get her smacked.
Just as she opened the door, the computer blurped again. She ran back over to the desk and stared at the words on the screen.
| ElCapitan says: | FYI. Pinks definitely your color ☺ |
2
‘I don’t know if all of you have Halloween on the brain, but these test grades were not what I wanted to see,’ Mrs McKenzie said, her voice withered with both age and perpetual disappointment, as she walked down the aisles of the classroom handing out papers. When she got to Lainey’s desk, she paused. Not a good sign. ‘Ms Emerson, I expected more from you,’ she sniped without even attempting to lower her voice. Then she dropped the paper as if it was covered in dog poop and she couldn’t stand to touch it any more. A big red D+ landed face-up on the desk.
Another D. Damn … Lainey could feel her cheeks flame up. She couldn’t remember any of the As she used to get ever being so large. Or so red. She quickly shoved the test into her book bag, avoiding eye contact with any of the twenty-three gawking, smirking strangers around her.
‘Report cards are going out next week, people,’ Mrs McKenzie warned with a shake of her poofy, margarine-colored head as the bell rang and a mass of bodies rushed past her into the hall. ‘I know there are a couple of you who aren’t going to be happy to see the mailman!’
It was a safe bet that she was one of those people, Lainey thought, feeling the acid churn like cement in her stomach as she slowly made her way through the noisy crowd to the lunchroom. And her mom was sure to birth a cow when she opened that envelope – Algebra probably wasn’t the only class she was getting a D in. Serves her right, Lainey thought, bitterly; she’d never wanted to switch schools anyway. All her friends were still at Ramblewood Middle, while she was completely lost here at stupid Sawgrass with absolutely no one. No one. Zero. Zilch. No one to study with. No one to walk home with. No one to eat lunch with, she thought miserably as she made her way past the tables of cheerleaders and dorks and jocks to an empty seat in the back of the cafeteria. She still didn’t see why they’d had to move, either. The old house was fine and it was, what? A mile away from the ‘new’ one, which was a lot smaller and didn’t even have a pool. But, as usual, no one bothered to ask for her input on anything before turning her life upside down. The only future she’d heard her mom and Todd worry about was Bradley’s. Her and Liza weren’t even a thought. Not that Liza gave a shit. The girl was never home anyway, and seeing as she didn’t have to change high schools and all her friends drove, not getting to see them was never a worry. Plus Liza was almost seventeen – just a couple of years from getting out on her own. Lainey, though, was just plain stuck.
‘Hey,’ a voice said softly behind her as she unpacked a flattened peanut butter and jelly sandwich from her book bag. It was bad enough she had to brown-bag it, but her sandwich was downright embarrassing. It looked like a bled-through Band Aid. A girl she vaguely recognized stood over her, lunch tray in hand. ‘You’re in Algebra with McKenzie, right?’ the girl asked.
Great. The whole stupid school knew she was flunking Algebra. ‘That’s me. Hope I’m not too famous,’ Lainey replied with a short, nervous laugh that sounded a lot like a whoop.
‘I got a shitty grade, too,’ the girl replied casually. She looked around the table. ‘You alone?’
Lainey shrugged. Was it that obvious? God, she felt like such a loser. ‘Yeah,’ she replied, shifting in her seat. ‘Just me.’
‘Can I sit? I just switched to this lunch period and don’t know anyone yet.’
Lainey moved the stack of books she’d placed in front of her to make it look like she was busy doing work. ‘Sure.’
‘I’m Carrie,’ the girl said, popping a straw into her juice box. ‘You new?’
‘Yeah. I was at Ramblewood, but we moved and now I’m zoned here, I guess.’
‘Your name’s Elaine, right?’
‘My friends call me Lainey.’
‘I’m new, too. My dad got transferred in August. I moved here from Columbus, Ohio.’
‘Wow … Ohio. Do you like Florida?’
Carrie shrugged. ‘I never had a pool before, so it’s cool. My friends back home are, like, so jealous. They all say they’re gonna come visit when it gets cold up north. They wanna go swimming in January. That’ll be fun.’
Lainey felt a pang. It’s not as easy as it sounds, she wanted to tell the girl. Her own friends lived less than a mile away and she practically never saw them any more. ‘My best friend still goes to Ramblewood,’ she said softly as she nibbled on her sandwich. ‘Actually, all my friends still go to Ramblewood.’
‘Ramblewood, is that a good school?’
Last year Lainey probably would’ve said, ‘It sucks,’ because all schools do. But she finished a sip of disgusting warm milk before replying, ‘It’s a great school. The best.’
They chatted about bad teachers and too much homework and riding the bus. She wasn’t Molly, but it was someone to talk to. ‘I like your backpack,’ Carrie said as she packed up her lunch, nodding at Lainey’s book bag. ‘I must’ve seen Twilight, like, fifty times. Taylor Lautner is so hot.’
Lainey smiled. ‘I like Robert Pattinson. Can you tell?’ On the cover flap of her black-and-white shoulder book bag was a picture of Edward Cullen, the teenage vampire played by Robert Pattinson in Lainey’s all-time favorite movie. ‘What if I’m not the hero?’ was silk-screened across the front. Her mom refused to buy fancy backpacks or lunchboxes, because, she said, ‘those celebrities already have enough damn money,’ so Lainey had saved up all her birthday cash and bought it herself. She’d gotten the very last one at Target the day before school started. She’d worried at first that maybe it was too young for middle school, but Melissa had one and Molly wanted one and Liza hadn’t made fun of it when she saw it, which was definitely a good sign.
‘I want to see New Moon the day it comes out, like the very first show. That would be so cool. Hey, maybe we can go together!’ Carrie offered.
‘Sure,’ Lainey replied with a smile. ‘That’d be fun. November nineteenth. I’m so there.’
‘Do you think your mom would let you maybe go to the midnight show?’
Lainey shrugged. ‘I’m not sure …’
‘Mine can be like that, too,’ Carrie said with a roll of her eyes. ‘She treats me like such a baby sometimes. It’s just a freaking movie.’
‘I got Twilight on DVD for my birthday. I’ve watched it like a hundred times already. I really love the part when Bella asks Edward how old he is and he says, “Seventeen.” And then she asks him, “How long have you been seventeen?”’
Carrie nodded. ‘And he just answers, “A while.” And the way he looks at her when he takes her up in the tree.’ She bit her lip and sighed. ‘Those eyes … Then she pointed at the science notebook in Lainey’s hand. ‘Hey! Who’s that?’ Carrie asked suddenly.
Taped across the cover of the notebook was the picture of Zach from her computer monitor. Lainey tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘Oh, that’s my boyfriend,’ she replied quickly, as the blood 911’d to her cheeks, lighting them up, she was sure, like a Christmas tree. She swallowed the large lump that was now blocking her airway.
Time stopped. Lainey could hear her heartbeat whooshing in her burning ears.
‘Oh,’ Carrie finally said, with a slow, but unsure smile. ‘He’s cute!’
Thankfully the bell rang before Carrie could fire off another question. Lainey quickly shoved the notebook in her bag, slung it over her shoulder and waved goodbye, disappearing into the stampede headed out of the cafeteria.
Boyfriend? Jeesh … where did that come from? The word had just totally slipped out of her mouth. She hadn’t planned on saying it. She’d never thought about saying it. She’d never even pretended it was true in the privacy of her own room when no one was looking, like she had on occasion with movie stars. She felt really embarrassed — like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t — but oddly enough, really happy. Like she’d finally been let in on the biggest secret in the world.
She had a boyfriend.
There it was again. After all, when you thought about it, that’s what Zach sort of was, wasn’t he? She bit back the smile as she made her way through the crowd. She suddenly didn’t feel as alone as she had all morning. Or like such a loser. Because she had a boyfriend.
The more she thought about it, the more comfortable the word sounded in her head. Lainey had never had a boyfriend before. Unlike Molly and Melissa, she’d never been asked. But Zach was more of a boyfriend to her than Peter Edwards had ever been to Molly. All they did when they were ‘going out’ last year was talk in the hall in between classes and a couple of times on the cell phone for, what? A few minutes? True, Molly’d kissed him – but that was only ’cause Peter had jammed his tongue in her mouth as his friends were walking down the hall, just so they could see him making out with her. Molly had almost bit it off, she was so surprised and so completely grossed out. She said it was like getting frenched by Stubbs, her uncle’s bull dog. Lainey had laughed, but she’d felt so jealous of Molly when she’d said that. Not because she liked weird Peter Edwards or wanted to get tongued by him or anything, but because, well, because Molly had. And Lainey was still stuck on the other side of the fence, as usual, looking in. Waiting for her boobs to show up. Waiting for her period. Waiting to have a boyfriend. Waiting to catch up, it seemed, with what everyone else was already doing. But now, today, this past weekend, these past couple of weeks – things were different. Unlike Molly and Peter, Lainey talked to Zach every night. And even though she hadn’t met him in person yet or heard his voice, they’d sent each other pictures. Plus, Lainey knew he liked her like that. Like a girlfriend. If she wasn’t totally sure before, she definitely knew from his IMs yesterday. He wanted to see more of her. He liked pink. He liked her picture. It was better than what he’d imagined. Which meant that he was imagining what she looked like. He was thinking about her. And Molly could never, ever say that about Peter.
She followed the last of the hall stragglers past Ms Finn, her Language Arts teacher, who stood in the doorway impatiently tapping her orthopedic shoes and checking her watch even though the bell hadn’t rung yet. Ms Finn didn’t tolerate latecomers. The second the bell rang, the door to her class closed and short of either a fire, terrorist attack or medical emergency – and that did not include having to pee – she wouldn’t open it again till the bell rang at the end of the period. ‘LIT PACKET DUE TODAY’ was scrawled across the blackboard.
It felt like someone had popped her new balloon. Lainey had completely forgotten about the Wuthering Heights assignment. That now all-too familiar icky-loser feeling enveloped her once again. It didn’t take a genius in Algebra to average out her grades in English – one more D for the mailman to deliver. Her mom was gonna totally freak.
She slid into her seat and slunk down low to avoid Ms Finn’s steely, missile-guided eyes. Next up was probably a pop-quiz. Oh joy. She rubbed her finger across Zach’s smiling face on her notebook. It was all gonna be OK, she told herself. Everything was gonna be OK. Screw this stupid school and the nasty teachers who delighted in giving tests and extra homework. It was only a dumb grade in a dumb class about a dumb old book, right? In the grand scheme of life it all meant nothing. What was really important was staring her right in the face with his sweet smile, and she knew he didn’t care if she got a D. Zach had already told her he was flunking Spanish. Everything was gonna be OK because she had a boyfriend now. Someone who cared about her. She smiled to herself as Ms Finn slammed the door closed and the next fifty minutes of hell started up.
Everything was gonna be better in her life. Prince Charming had finally arrived.
And she couldn’t wait to get back to her computer to talk to him.
3
Florida weather could be so freaky, Lainey thought as she watched the blob of black to the west slowly make its way over the Everglades and toward Coral Springs. Just twenty minutes ago there wasn’t even a cloud in the sky. She hurried across the patch of brown grass that led to the duplex where Mrs Ross, Bradley’s after-school sitter, lived. The warm afternoon breeze had degenerated into cool gusts that made the palm trees rustle and bow. Thunder rumbled in the not-so-far-off distance. The storm was getting closer. She wondered what the weather in Columbus, Ohio was like. If it ever rained on only one side of the street, or poured when the sun was shining. She wondered what it felt like to play in snow …
A zimmer frame with two tennis balls stuck on its front legs sat just outside the screen door on the cement step-up. Taped above the doorbell was a tiny piece of paper with the number 1106 scribbled in old lady chicken scratch. Hopefully Bradley had his stuff ready to go, Lainey thought as she rang the bell and looked at her cell. If he didn’t have practice, Zach was home by five. ‘Hi, Mrs Ross,’ she said sweetly when the door opened. A cat ran out between the old woman’s legs and scurried into the bushes.
‘Sinbad, you get back here, now!’ Mrs Ross scolded in her soft, shaky Southern twang.
Bradley’s elementary school got out an hour and a half before Lainey’s middle school, so Mrs Ross served as the afternoon pit stop until Lainey could come get him. Her mom used to let Bradley just go home alone, but one of the new neighbors threatened to call the Department of Children and Families and report her, so now she had Mrs Ross watch him. In Lainey’s opinion, Bradley would have been better off on his own. Mrs Ross was nearing what looked to be a hundred and couldn’t see, hear, or remember very well. And her house always smelled like pee and boiled eggs. ‘Hello there, Elaine,’ she said. ‘Come on in, now.’
‘Do you want me to get him for you, ma’am?’ Lainey asked.
‘Who?’
‘Sinbad.’
There was a pause. ‘The cat,’ Lainey added.
Mrs Ross looked around. Then the light snapped on. ‘Oh, no, no. Just let him be. He’ll come on home, I suppose. That’s where the food is.’
Bradley popped out from behind the door that led to the living room. His face was pale. ‘A severe storm warning’s been issued. They’re saying tornados are possible.’
Uh-oh. Her brother could watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Saw IV back to back, but ever since Hurricane Wilma had taken out his bedroom window a couple of years ago, five minutes with the Weather Channel sent Bradley into a complete tailspin. The weather alert must’ve broken into his cartoons.
‘Maybe we should wait it out,’ he said, his eyes wide with fear. Mrs Ross gummed her lip and looked back and forth at the two of them. Obviously she wasn’t too worried about tornados. She wanted her TV back. Oprah beckoned.
‘Don’t freak. It’s not even raining yet,’ Lainey replied calmly.
‘I don’t know … They say tornadoes sound like a train.’
‘We have to go Brad. Come on.’ She looked over at Mrs Ross. ‘We can’t stay here.’
Mrs Ross shrugged.
‘Don’t know …’ he muttered again.
‘Look, we’ll run home together before the rain starts. I’ll race you.’
Bradley looked past her. Another rumble of thunder sounded and his lip began to tremble.
Lainey sighed. The sight of her normally totally obnoxious brother melting into a pile of tears should make her smile, but it did just the opposite. She actually felt bad for the kid. He looked terrified. ‘You can hold my hand, Brad,’ she said quietly, crouching down on her knees to look him in the eye. ‘It’ll be OK. I promise. But we gotta go, like, now.’
Just as they rounded the corner of 43rd Street on to 114th Terrace, hand in hand and at full speed, God turned on the faucet. And the thunder. A huge boom that sounded as if it was right above their heads set off three car alarms. By the time they made it inside the house three blocks later, they were both soaked right down to their underwear, which made a now completely freaked-out Bradley chuckle for a split second.
She stood right outside the door and waited while he changed into dry clothes, then she led him back into the family room, closed the blinds and popped Resident Evil into his PlayStation. A video game meant no more weather alerts, and the screaming zombie victims took care of the thunder. She watched him from the kitchen until the rain band had passed over and it was clear Bradley was more concerned with a cannibal finding him in a closet than he was about a twister taking out the family abode. In twenty minutes the storm would be over, he’d be back to his old self and she wouldn’t feel bad any more. There wasn’t much time.
While he jumped on the couch in his Spiderman jammies, killing zombies left and right, she quietly slipped out of the room and headed down the hall into her bedroom.
Then she locked the door behind her and turned on the computer.
4
Before the screen had even warmed up, the computer blurped. An IM. While she changed out of her wet clothes, she clicked on the flashing orange tab.
| ElCapitan says: | r u online? |
It was like he knew she was there. Like he sensed her presence. That was so cool!
| LainBrain says: | hi! was just guna rite u |
| ElCapitan says: | sup? |
| LainBrain says: | tried to beat the rain & lost |
| LainBrain says: | I love storms, but its nasty out |
| ElCapitan says: | does that mean you’re soaking wet? |
| LainBrain says: | pretty much |
| ElCapitan says: | ooohhh. I like |
| LainBrain says: | drying my hair |
| ElCapitan says: | What happ on math? |
| LainBrain says: | don’t ask |
| ElCapitan says: | u wont be 1st to fail algebra |
| LainBrain says: | didnt fail. D |
| ElCapitan says: | (::[]::) |
| Lainey smiled. | |
| LainBrain says: | thanks 4 the pity |
| ElCapitan says: | been there. HATED trig. Got a C. |
| LainBrain says: | moms gonna scalp me. prob grounded 4 life |
| ElCapitan says: | 2 bad. I like ur hair |
| ElCapitan says: | & ur pretty head |
She blushed, absently stroking a damp piece of hair that had escaped her towel turban. He was so easy to talk to.
| ElCapitan says: | have to meet u |
Lainey stared at the screen. She totally wasn’t expecting that.
| ElCapitan says: | what about Friday nite? Wanna c Zombieland? |
| ElCapitan says: | we can grab sum food 2 |
Oh my God. He was asking her out. Wait – was this a date? She looked around the room, as if hoping to see an audience there who could corroborate what she’d just read and interpret exactly what it meant. Where the heck was Molly when you needed her? Of course it was a date … Movies meant date. Food meant date. Movies and food definitely meant date. A real date. She was just asked out! Then the complete joy that had her jumping up and down in her room, squealing like a piglet, stopped as quickly as it had come on, replaced by icy, realistic panic. What was she doing? There was no way her mom was gonna let her go. No freakin’ way. Especially if she knew Zach was seventeen. She nibbled on a nail. Shit. She didn’t want to tell him no. What if he didn’t ask again?
| ElCapitan says: | hello? |
| LainBrain says: | Hmmm … I definitely want 2 see that. |
| ElCapitan says: | will ur mom b cool? |
| LainBrain says: | dont know. specially after today |
| ElCapitan says: | then dont tell her |
Lainey stared at the computer as if it were alive, watching her carefully through its blinking curser. Her stomach twisted with both unease and excitement.
| ElCapitan says: | what she dont know cant hurt her |
She looked around the empty room. A strange tickle itched the back of her throat, as if something had gotten stuck halfway down and wasn’t budging any more. That could work. She could tell her mom she was going to the movies with that new girl, Carrie. It’s not like she’d ever check, anyway. Liza was the problem child, not her. And short of, ‘Did you have a good time?’ she knew there’d be no questions asked. There never were.
| LainBrain says: | I cant b home 2 late though |
| ElCapitan says: | ull b home by 10. I have practice @ 8 |
| ElCapitan says: | thats AM!!! |
Lainey chewed on her lip. Her brain was a mush of thoughts. What should she do?
| ElCapitan says: | u still there? |
| LainBrain says: | ummm … thinking |
| ElCapitan says: | I’ll pick u up at school. weve played CS High b4. Stay late and meet me @ 5:30 in the parking lot in back by the baseball field. Ill b in a black BMW |
| LainBrain says: | 5:30? |
| ElCapitan says: | cant get the car till Dad gets home. CS is a hoof |
That’s right. Zach lived in Jupiter, which, according to MapQuest was, like, an hour away. He was gonna drive an hour just to see her … Lainey took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding. She’d never done anything wrong before. Besides the picture, she’d never gone against the rules. But her mom would just say no for the sake of saying no, and because she had these dumb, arbitrary rules about how old you had to be to do certain things. Twelve for make-up, thirteen for group dates, fifteen for car dates. A knee-jerk reaction to Liza’s screwed-up adolescence. If she didn’t go on Friday, when would she ever meet Zach? Never, that’s when.
| LainBrain says: | k. sounds like fun |
| ElCapitan says: | cool. keep it low. I don’t want ur mom or step to trip. Find a theater near u where its playin |
| LainBrain says: | k |
| ElCapitan says: | cant wait to finally meet u |
| LainBrain says: | me 2 |
She leaned back in the chair. Her brain was spinning. She not only had to figure out how she was gonna get herself across town on Friday afternoon to Coral Springs High – which she’d never even been to before – she also had to figure out how that self was gonna look like the girl he thought she was when she got there. Then an icy thought gripped her, causing a race of goosebumps to ripple across the back of her neck.
What if it didn’t work? What if he saw right through her and knew she was thirteen? What would he do then?
The computer blurped.
| ElCapitan says: | dont worry. ull b safe w/me |
She smiled. It was as if he’d just read her mind. Again.
| ElCapitan says: | im no psycho |
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.
