Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1)

by Emily Kazmierski

Thanking her, I do. I’m relieved, because the last time I was in a car on a mountain road I may have thrown up into my favorite sun hat. RIP.

  “Wow, your aunt is something else,” Fiona says once we’re all safely in her white four door.

  “I thought my parents were bad,” Marisa says, sticking her head between the two front seats to plug her phone into the radio.

  “Says the girl in a rash guard down to her ankles,” says Fiona.

  Marisa swats at her. “Not funny. You know how my mom is about skin care. Besides, she’s kind of right. I do not want to end up leathery and brown like all the surfers who don’t wear sunscreen. I’d never get any more acting gigs.”

  Bubble gum pop filters through the radio, making a thrill shoot through me.

  I’m actually going to the beach! With friends!

  Not even a quick glance at the depressing sight that is my new old house can tamp down my excitement.

  We tumble out of the car into a parking lot teeming with people. Everyone looks like a pack animal, arms full of umbrellas, beach chairs and towels, coolers, and sand toys galore. Looking out at the golden beach and blue water, a knot of homesickness makes my stomach flip. I cover the misery that washes over my face by pretending to dig into the plastic bag of supplies I brought. Only look up when I’ve got my more unruly emotions under control.

  “You coming?” Fiona asks.

  I catch up to her and the other girls.

  “The guys have a fire pit. Noah got here at the butt-crack of dawn to reserve one.”

  “That was nice of him,” I mutter.

  Viv bursts out laughing. “Noah is always like that. An over achiever. He has a good look, though. Those thick frames work for him. And wait until you see him in the knitted sweaters he wears through the winter.”

  “You like him?” I ask as we scramble over the concrete barrier that separates the parking lot from the wide stretch of sand. Bright white life-guard booths with red numbers on the sides stand at regular intervals in both directions, and between each one is a large concrete fire pit. Each one is already surrounded by clusters of people even though it’s before noon.

  “Noah? No way. We’ve all known each other way too long to date. That’s why pretty much everyone around here is so curious about you.” Viv wiggles her eyebrows in my direction.

  “Me?”

  “You’re a mystery.”

  “Fresh blood,” adds Marisa.

  “Don’t scare her,” Fiona says, tossing an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t worry. We won’t let anyone eat you.”

  I laugh at the absurdity of this conversation. “I think I can handle it. Just keep Esau away from me.”

  “If you say so. We’re here!” Fiona whistles.

  A bunch of male heads whirl in our direction. Noah comes jogging over. “Can I help with anything?” He takes the heavy shopping bag from my hand, smiling shyly down at me. My eyes skitter over his white tank and out to the aquamarine waves.

  “Here. Thanks.” Marisa shoves her monstrous cooler into the boy’s other hand.

  Viv flings herself at a tall, wiry redheaded girl.

  I survey everyone as we draw closer to the fire pit where we’ll be all day and into the evening. “You’ve met pretty much everyone,” Fiona says. “Noah, Dariel. The ginger is Erin.”

  I chant names, hoping it’ll help me remember. Dariel, whose mischievous smile and high box fade I remember, is in drama club with us. I’m pretty sure he and Fiona have something going on. Erin is new.

  “Erin’s my boo. She goes to the Catholic school,” Viv says, still draped around the wiry carrot-top. The girl tugs Viv closer, looking for all the world like Viv’s the only sun in her orbit. Viv giggles when the taller girl tickles her side.

  “And you know Esau,” Fiona finishes, gesturing with one hand toward the guy who’s brooding at the edge of the group. His black hair is up in a man bun and holy cheese he doesn’t have a shirt on. Boy is C. U. T. CUT.

  He’s also glaring at me.

  My ears burn as I help Noah fan out the Mexican blanket I brought. I ordered it off the internet the minute I had my new address. I had one just like it once, draped over the foot of my bed. A memento of a fishing trip to Mexico with Dad when I was ten. My throat closes as my gaze rakes over the tight cotton weave, dyed orange and pink. Dashing my hand across my eyes, I turn away.

  Down the beach, there’s a long wooden platform built over the sand, with stairs leading up to it. The entire length of it is jam-packed with booths and shops. I can smell the greasy cooking oil from here. Towering above the colorful buildings are the rides. A classic wooden roller coaster. An old-fashioned log ride. A zero gravity spinner. An air-gondola ride that spans the length of the boardwalk.

  “Welcome to paradise. Swimming first, or rides?” Fiona throws her arms out wide.

  “Swimming,” I say. I’m aching to feel the salty ocean current on my skin.

  “Okay. Let’s take a quick dip, and then we’re getting fried twinkies!” Viv cheers.

  I blink. “Fried what?”

  “Twinkies. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried one,” Viv says, rubbing her hands together like a supervillain in a cartoon.

  We run toward the water, laughing and hooting. Dodge sand castles and practically naked sunbathers. It’s fantastic. It’s a gorgeous day. It’s…

  Freezing cold!

  My entire body grows goose bumps on my goosebumps as I gasp, the water up to my chest.

  “It’s hecka cold, right?” Noah calls from a few feet away.

  “I bet the new girl doesn’t last five minutes,” Esau taunts, wading past with a splash. His thick arms pump through the water with ease.

  It rankles, especially since I know he knows my name. And betting on my endurance in cold water? Ha.

  I push deeper, farther, swimming with strong strokes of my arms and swift kicks of my legs. The ocean and I are one. Twisting, I float on my back, letting the current slowly push me in toward the shore.

  I’m the last one out, not giving in until I’m shivering, my fingers and toes like dried prunes.

  Esau looks down his nose at me as I catwalk past him to where the girls are crowded around my blanket, chowing down on watermelon slices Marisa brought in her massive cooler.

  I dig into my bag for my dry clothes and pull them on.

  Down the beach, there’s an especially loud outcry from a group of people playing an aggressive game of volleyball. Near the net, a man lies sprawled in the sand, his teammates cheering around him. It looks like fun.

  When I reach into my pocket for the tube of lip balm I keep there, my fingers come away with a scrap of paper instead. Confused, I unfold it.

  Pencil scrawl cuts across the paper, the strokes so heavy they’ve punctured the paper. I’ve missed seeing you, it reads. Gasping, I shove it back into my pocket.

  I don’t know how, but my worst nightmare is coming to fruition. He’s found me. I don’t know how. I’ve been so careful. Trying not to let my hands shake, I smooth my hair up into a wet ponytail as best I can, scanning the stretch of beach. It’s crawling with people. I don’t see any sign of him, but in this crowd spotting a single person is nearly impossible.

  A ways away, a law enforcement SUV is parked on the sand, and the officers are leaning against the front bumper. It’s reassuring.

  My heart thunders in my chest as I will myself to focus on the chattering conversations of my friends all around me. I’m okay. I’m surrounded by people. He can’t be here. He can’t. The last possible sighting was hundreds of miles away.

  But that doesn’t really mean anything, does it? He’s been on the run for months.

  My hands won’t stop trembling as I focus my attention toward the group I’m encircled in, no longer willing to risk a look behind me.

  Chapter 5

  “You ready for this?” Fiona asks, taking a swig from one of the fruit punch pouches Noah brought for everyone. A huge, rickety-looking wooden rollercoaster sprawls along th
e boardwalk. Its boards are peeling in places where the whitewash has nearly worn away. A string of cars thunders past us, occupants screaming. Whether in thrill or terror, it’s hard to say.

  My mind returns to the note hidden in my pocket. Half of me wants to ask Fiona to take me home, but the other half knows what will happen if I do. Once she sees it, Aunt Karen will never let me come back to this place. This beautiful place. Up until I found that note, it was the most at home I’d felt in months. I’m fighting a mental battle to get back to that place.

  Steading myself, I meet Fiona’s eyes. Safety in numbers is definitely a thing. So instead of giving in to my fear, I nod. “I’m ready.”

  Marisa and Viv whoop, standing up and brushing the sand off their damp swimsuits. Viv’s solid black monokini makes her olive skin look fantastic.

  “Let’s do it,” Noah says, trying to brush off his white tank, which clings to his lithe frame.

  Sprawled out on his towel like a Greek god, Esau snorts. Then pushes himself up to his full height. He practically blocks out the sun when he hovers behind me like that. Why did he even come, if he’s going to be such a butthead the whole time?

  “Come on. Fried Twinkies first!” Viv says.

  “Did you forget what happened last time?” Fiona eyes the girl warily.

  Viv’s cheeks rouge. “Okay, fried Twinkies after!”

  “What happened last time?” I whisper to Marisa, who imitates spewing everywhere with gesticulating hands. Our resident actress, everyone.

  We surge through the crowd, dodging patrons chowing on cotton candy. Bells ding as little kids spend money on most-likely rigged carnival games. A guy walks past carrying the largest stuffed panda bear I’ve ever seen. My eyes practically bug out.

  “You got a thing for panda bears?” Esau huffs.

  “No.” I cross my arms. No need to mention the life-sized panda I used to sleep with.

  “No fighting, kids, or I’m turning this car around,” Fiona says.

  My foot catches on an uneven plank, and I go flying, my heart lurching into my throat.

  A strong arm snakes around my waist, righting me. “So clumsy,” Esau grumbles near my ear.

  My face heats as I shove him away.

  “Are you okay?” Noah asks, his soft brown eyes on mine.

  “I’m fine. Thanks,” I say pointedly, refusing to thank Esau. With heart still hammering, I scurry to catch up with the girls in the line for the roller coaster, sandwiching myself between Fiona and Marisa. The boys are right at our heels.

  Screams reverberate as the train cars rumble up to the highest point of the track. Then go plummeting down toward the boardwalk. A plaque to one side of the entrance states that the ride has been in operation since 1924. There must be something like trepidation in my face, because Noah leans nearer.

  “It’s not that scary,” he says. “It’s my favorite ride, actually.”

  I’d like to tell him about a similar roller coaster back home. My favorite ride ever. Instead, I bite my tongue.

  We shuffle through the line, Marisa polling us to see which coaster to hit next.

  “We don’t need an itinerary,” Viv says, “aside from the Twinkies.”

  “It never hurts to be prepared,” Marisa says, swiveling to point at Erin. “Speaking of, babe, you look a little pink. Did you put sunscreen on?”

  “Knew I forgot something,” Erin deadpans.

  “Oh you,” Marisa says, clucking her tongue.

  “I vote for the gondolas,” Esau says, surprising me into turning to where he’s standing at the back of our group. “It’s quieter.”

  “Our director has spoken,” Marisa decrees. “Gondolas it is.”

  “We’re not in the theater,” I say. “We don’t have to do what Esau says.”

  “Oooh,” Fiona crows. “Them’s fighting words.”

  Esau crosses his arms, glaring at me.

  I’m so dead at our next drama club meeting on Tuesday. Esau’s going to make me climb the ladder to adjust the lights a hundred times. Or send me on so many gopher trips I miss the entire thing.

  Once we’re at the front of the line, Marisa and Fiona pair off. Viv links arms with Erin. I turn around and come face to face with Esau.

  “It’s you and me, new girl.” Esau’s dark eyes are piercing.

  “Where’s Noah?” Annoyance flares in my voice.

  “He asked to switch.”

  Standing on tiptoes to see past Esau, I catch a glimpse of Noah chatting with another girl from school. Looks like she’s into him. Oh.

  Sucks to be me. Stuck with Mr. Grumpus over here.

  Fiona catches my eye, looking at Esau. “Sorry,” she mouths.

  I shrug like it’s no big deal.

  When it’s our turn to board, we slide into the ride’s cars. They look like old-fashioned mine carts with a bench seat and a lap bar. Esau plants his feet, his legs taking up most of the space. Leaving me a tiny bit of footroom.

  “Stay on your own side,” I hiss, but he doesn’t move.

  Slamming my thigh into his, I try to shove him away. His thick legs don’t budge.

  “You’re the worst,” I mutter.

  He ignores me.

  The roller coaster clickety-clacks as it climbs to its highest peak. Anticipation coils in my belly as we pause at the top. I can see for miles. The deep blue of the ocean. The swaths of golden sand. The large houses along the shore.

  A scream rips out of my lungs as the ride dives toward the wooden planks below.

  Esau laughs at my surprise, the sound emanating from deep in his chest.

  We skid around the first sharp turn and my body slams into his. I scramble to get away, but the g forces push me against him, not letting up. By the time the ride ends a minute later, I feel battered and bruised from fighting to stay in my own space.

  “I didn’t know you were so desperate to be close to me,” Esau taunts, glancing at me with ebony eyes.

  “You wish,” I splutter, looking away.

  Noah catches up with us as we’re dumped out on to the wooden planks of the boardwalk. “How was it?”

  “Super fun. Esau and I are bosom buddies now.”

  “Sure,” he drawls, looking between Director Grumpy Pants and me. Esau’s displeasure is obvious.

  “Twinkies next,” Viv says, grabbing my arm and drawing me away. “You like fried food, right? You’re going to love them.”

  “I’m a vegetarian,” I say, “but I’ll see what they have.”

  “Perfect!”

  Oh my goodness, deep fried Oreos are delicious. And possibly heart-attack inducing. Three of them dusted in powdered sugar and drizzled with fudge sauce were enough for one day.

  “Run lines with me? I don’t have mine memorized yet.” Marisa asks as we’re standing in line for the gondolas.

  “Sure,” I say, glancing over my shoulder at the burbling crowd. No familiar figures. I’m safe, I chant in my head. With a mental effort, I look to where Esau’s standing, seemingly absorbed in watching the volleyball games out on the sand. For once his face is relaxed enough that he doesn’t look like he’s about to murder someone. I wonder what’s up his butt? You know what? Never mind. I do not want to go there.

  “I don’t have another copy of the script,” Marisa says with a tap on my shoulder, “so we’ll have to share.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t need one.”

  Marisa’s eyes widen as Fiona and Viv gape at me.

  “I’ve done the show, remember? I practically have it memorized.” I’m flustered, as if they could tell I was thinking about a certain broody director a minute ago. Clearing my throat, I school my features into an easy smile.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got,” Fiona says.

  Marisa gives me an act and scene.

  I close my eyes, letting the words come flowing back. How it felt to stand on the stage in my costume, the lights in my eyes. Lines flowing from my lips like honey. The applause, afterward. Beaming faces in the audience that I�
��ll never again behold.

  Marisa begins, and I stay right with her. Line for line. Word for word.

  By the time we’re done, everyone in our group is staring at us.

  “Wow, that was… really good,” Noah says.

  “No kidding. You’re going to try out next semester, right?” Fiona asks. “You’ll be cast for sure.”

  I shake my head. “Acting isn’t for me. I’m much more comfortable behind the curtain.” Lies on top of lies.

  “Nonsense. Esau would have cast you, right Director?”

  Esau’s eyes zero in on mine. “Like she said, she’s better off backstage.”

  I open my mouth to retort, my ego stung. But we’ve reached the front of the line. “Girls only,” Marisa says, grabbing my arm and tugging me into the bright pink gondola with her, Fiona, Viv, and Erin.

  “Later, Fifi,” Dariel calls to Fiona.

  Noah frowns slightly as us girls arrange ourselves in the suspended pink car, but Esau merely rolls his eyes.

  I settle in as we rise into the air, glad to get a break from his scornful gaze.

  The back of my neck prickles as if I’m being watched.

  Peering over the side of the gondola, I look down at Noah and Esau where they’re climbing into the next one. They sit as far apart as possible. Neither of them is paying us any attention.

  Down on the boardwalk, people criss-cross the wooden planks. Eating. Yelling. Laughing. My eyes dart back and forth, looking. For a moment I see a cruel mouth under a down-turned cap, but when I blink the man is gone. I swallow the nerves.

  “Now that we’re alone, want to hear something really freaky?” Fiona leans forward.

  “Ghost stories, yes!” Viv grins.

  “This isn’t a ghost story. It’s absolutely true,” Fiona says. “On the drive out this morning, I thought we were being followed. This blue car with dice in the mirror was behind us for almost an hour.”

  “What?” I whisper, gripping the plastic seat with white fingers. So it’s true. He followed me here. Waited until we were all swimming to leave me that note. My throat constricts. No, no, no, no, no. Every law enforcement agency in the state is looking for him. And there were police on the beach. There’s no way he could have gotten past them without being spotted.