by Marissa Lete
“What can we find there?”
“She keeps patient records. So we might be able to figure out who she’s been studying. I’m not sure if there’ll be any information about her research and what she’s trying to develop, but it’s worth a try. It’s the safest place to start, I guess.”
I nod.
“I’m going to stake out her office for a few days so I can figure out the best time to sneak in. I’ll let you know when I’ve decided on a time, and we can hopefully get some answers.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” I say. We sit there in the enclosed space of the car, and I wait for him to say something else. But he doesn’t. A heavy silence falls around us, threatening to suffocate me.
I’m starting to get the sense that this conversation is over, but I don’t want it to be. All I want right now is to sit down and talk to Maverick, to learn more about him, about us. But by recoiling at a simple brush of our hands, I fear that I may have snapped the tiny, fragile strings that were attempting to pull us closer to each other. I don’t know how to put them back.
“I guess I better get going,” I finally break the silence.
Maverick looks at me, but his expression is unreadable. “Stay safe. I’ll be in touch soon,” he tells me and I nod, stepping out into the rainy parking lot and closing the door of the car behind me.
✽✽✽✽✽
Soon turns out to be not soon enough, because after a week goes by, I’m convinced that I’ll never get to talk to Maverick again. It disappoints me that he hasn’t called yet, but not because I want to know more about Alice and how to stop her. Actually, it’s Maverick that I’m interested in, and I can’t stop thinking about him. At Louise’s, we’d gone from flirting to cold distance in the blink of an eye. I want that other part of him back, the one that was similar to the echoes of his calm, casual charm and his easy understanding. But after I’d basically freaked out at his touch, he just pulled away. I’m sure he still feels guilty about what he did, but hadn’t we been on the path to moving past it? I’m sure that someday I’ll be able to forgive him, but will he ever be able to forgive himself? I hope so, because now that I know him, all I want is to know more about him, and I can’t do that if I never get to speak to him again.
The commotion in the school parking lot on Friday morning is enough to bury my thoughts of Maverick for a while, though.
First I see Grace, trying to sidestep a boy that’s blocking her path, saying something to her. Then I see Andy and two of his friends leaning against a car a few feet away, laughing. As I get closer, I start to hear what they’re saying.
“Get out of my way before I punch you in the face,” Grace says, giving the boy one of her best death glares.
“Before you what? Go psycho and tell my mom on me?” The boy spits at her feet. “Andy was right, you actually are insane,” he snarls, then steps to the side to finally let her past. But Grace doesn’t move.
“Why don’t you tell Andy to come over here and say it to my face, then, huh? Or is he actually so much of a coward that he has to send someone else to do it for him?” Grace fires back, loud enough for Andy—and everyone in the surrounding area—to hear. I watch as heads turn, and a few people nearby pause to see the showdown.
Andy pushes himself off the car, then walks over to Grace, arms crossed, chomping on a piece of gum. He smiles snarkily. “What do you want me to say? That I love you and want you back? Sorry, sweetie, but in case you didn’t know, I don’t go out with little tattletales.”
“I’m not a tattletale,” Grace insists. He’s a head taller than her, so she has to tilt her head back to look him squarely in the face.
Andy steps closer to her, his finger pointed at her chest. “Listen up, Grace,” he keeps moving, forcing her to back away. “If you hadn’t gone and run to your little mommy about your stupid problems, she wouldn’t have gone to my mom and gotten me in trouble for going to that party, too.” Just as Andy finishes the sentence, he reaches for Grace, grabbing her by the shirt.
Grace jolts away, breaking free from his grasp, but in the process, stumbles on a shoelace and falls to the ground. Andy steps closer, grinning.
I start to move, ready to jump in and stand by her side, defending her, but a voice rings out from behind me, stopping me in my tracks.
“Get away from her,” Leo demands, rushing to place himself between them, his eyes locked on Andy. He’s not as tall as Andy, but he’s stockier.
Andy smirks, but I notice he takes a tiny step backward. “Hey look everyone, loverboy has come to rescue her.” Andy’s friends by the car snicker in response.
Leo ignores them, turning around and holding a hand out to Grace. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” She takes his hand and he pulls her up. Then she dusts herself off. She looks angry, but also like she’s about to break down.
“It’s okay, you can have my leftovers. I’m done with her anyway,” Andy sneers.
Leo whips around, fire blazing in his eyes. “Your leftovers? What do you call Dana, then?”
Andy scowls, but looks confused.
Leo feigns shock. “Oh, you mean you didn’t know? That she’s cheating on you with Jake? And Ben?”
Andy looks taken aback for a moment. He glances over at his friends by the car. One of them—the boy who’d been antagonizing Grace earlier—turns pale and the guy next to him looks down at the ground, avoiding Andy’s gaze.
Then, I see everything happening in slow motion. Andy’s face flashes into a cold rage, his fist curls up into a ball, and he turns around to face Leo again.
“Watch out!” I shout as Andy draws his arm back. Leo looks at me, questioning, a moment before Andy’s fist comes down, crashing into his face.
Everyone starts shouting. Leo stumbles backward, his hand clutching the left side of his face, eyes shut in pain. Grace reaches for him, shouting something at Andy. I step forward to join my friends just as a whistle blows. Everyone falls into silence, turning to face Principle Jackson as she shoves her way toward Andy and Leo.
“Everybody get to class!” she yells, making all of the bystanders spring into action, scattering towards the school buildings. “You three are coming with me. Right now,” she says to Grace, Leo, and Andy. She grabs a shocked Leo and a seething Andy in each arm, then marches in the direction of her office. Grace hesitates, watching them go. Her eyes land on me.
“I—”
Before I can finish, she turns and jogs after them.
At lunch, I find her tucked in a corner of the library between book stacks, eating by herself. I need to fix things with her because I need to have at least one constant in my life. One thing I can control.
“We need to talk,” I say, and she looks up, startled by my presence. Then she narrows her eyes.
“Oh, so now you want to talk?”
“I want us to be friends. What happened this morning wasn’t cool, I want to help make it right.”
“Make it right? Laura, you’ve only made things worse. You couldn’t be there for me when I needed you, and now I’m the laughing stock of the school because of it. And not only that, but when my parents discovered I went to that party, they talked to Andy’s parents, and then everyone else’s parents, and now everyone is in trouble. Because of me. Because of you.”
I wince at her words, but then I harden my gaze at her. “Don’t pin this on me,” I tell her, my voice low.
“You pinned it on yourself, Laura,” she spits. She stands, shoving her things into her backpack. “We’re done here.” She shoves past me, knocking a few books onto the ground. She ignores them, stepping out into the aisle between the book stacks. Then she looks back at me briefly. “What I don’t understand is that you told me you were going to come get me. And then you didn’t. If you weren’t going to show, why did you tell me you were?”
I’ve tried, many times, to come up with some kind of reasonable explanation, but when I open my mouth, not a single one comes out.
“Thanks. Thanks a lot, Laura.” She s
ays my name as if it’s some kind of disease. Then she leaves me alone in the library, a section of books scattered on the floor around me. As I’m gathering them up, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.
Pulling it out, my focus shifts from Grace back to my previous problem.
It’s a text from Maverick.
I have a plan. Meet up after school?
Chapter 28
I sit in my car in the parking lot, watching my peers walk by. Grace’s car hasn’t appeared in a few days, meaning her driving privileges are most likely still revoked. Leo’s car is here, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I wonder if he got detention for fighting, though technically it was Andy who antagonized him and threw the punch.
I’m not sure what to do about Grace. I just want to be able to tell her everything—about Maverick, about Alice, about the echoes. But it seems like such an impossible task. How would anyone believe it all? Anyone except Maverick. He understands it all a little too well.
I’ve got my face against the steering wheel, trying not to break down when Maverick opens the door to my car, a blast of cold air hitting me.
He slides into the passenger seat, looks at me. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say, wiping my nose on my sleeve and averting my eyes. It’s not very convincing.
“Nothing,” Maverick teases, wiping his nose on his sleeve dramatically, making a sad face.
I can’t help but laugh, a hollow, choked-up sound. “Shut up,” I reply.
He gives me a half-smile, then goes serious, his eyes meeting mine across the center console. “I’m sorry for causing you so much stress.”
I let out a long sigh. “It’s not that, right now. Mostly just friend drama. It’s not important.” Not as important as attempting to stop a crazy woman trying to kidnap me, at least.
“Are Grace and Andy having problems again?” he asks casually, as if he’s known them his whole life.
I blink in surprise. “You know my friends?” I ask.
He just shrugs. “Once upon a time, we would all hang out together.”
“Wow,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “Still weird that you know these things.”
Maverick looks down at his feet. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I respond genuinely. “I’ll just have to give you the update, then. Andy and Grace broke up, and then Andy got back with Dana.”
Maverick scrunches his nose in disgust. “Seriously?” I nod. “He’s a jerk. I never liked him anyway.”
“You and me both. And—get this—Leo is, apparently, in love with Grace.”
Maverick gives me a sideways glance. “You mean you didn’t know that?”
My jaw drops. “What? How did you know?” I ask, incredulous.
“You seriously never noticed the way he always sits so close to her? The way he looks her in the eye like she’s the only thing he sees? His constant attempts to flirt?” I shake my head as he ticks each item off on his fingers.
“I didn’t notice any of those things,” I reply, thinking about Leo and Grace’s playful banter. Perhaps it could have been flirting, I’d just never put the dots together.
“And they say guys are oblivious,” Maverick laughs. I laugh, too, and then silence falls around us.
“Grace is mad at me,” I finally say, “because one night she went to this party and got into a bit of a bad situation. She called me, asking me to pick her up, and even though I told her I would be there in a few minutes, I never showed up. Because I got kidnapped by a crazy woman named Alice before I ever made it.”
Maverick nods. “So that’s why you were heading way out there that night.”
Something dawns on me. “You were following me, weren’t you? That’s how you showed up there. And why you were there the night of the dance.”
Maverick nods. “I tried my best to keep tabs on you once I found out Alice was looking for you. I even tried to work for her again so she’d leave you alone. But I was intentionally a little sloppy with my work, hoping she’d get caught. But she didn’t, and then she found out what I was doing, hence the kidnapping and everything.”
It feels weird knowing that he was out there, watching me, perhaps the whole time I was hearing his echoes and questioning my sanity. I expect to feel some form of violation, but I don’t. Instead, the thought calms me. Like I had some kind of guardian angel watching out for me. Protecting me, if only for as much time as he could.
“Thank you,” I tell him honestly.
Maverick just stares out the window. “So I’ve got a plan,” he says.
I swallow. “What is it?”
“Alice usually leaves her office around seven. So we’ll head there before then, and make sure we see her leave before we go inside.”
“How do we get inside? Is it locked?”
“It’s in a medical building with a bunch of other offices and practices. The main doors are usually unlocked, so we’ll just have to get past the receptionist at the front.”
“How do we do that?” I ask him.
He just stares at me for a long moment.
“Oh. Right,” I say. Memory erasing abilities. Got it.
He looks away. “Before we go, I want to make sure you know how to use a gun. So you can at least defend yourself in case anything happens.”
“What? You don’t think I’m capable of taking down a couple of bad guys with my bare hands?” I try to lighten the mood, grinning.
Maverick can’t help but break into a smile. “Based on the fact that you still got kidnapped, even with my help? No,” he says, and then we both laugh.
✽✽✽✽✽
The blue Corolla rolls to a stop in front of Maverick’s house thirty minutes later. I’d ridden with him and texted my parents to let them know that I was at Grace’s for the evening. If they ever figure out what I’m really up to, I’m afraid that I might never leave the house again.
We hop out of the car and step inside, and once again I take in the magnificence of the place. Maverick leads me through a hallway, a few doors, then down a flight of stairs into a basement. The basement is fully furnished, complete with a giant, flat-screen TV mounted on the wall, brown suede couches, a pool table, and a minibar along the backside of the room. Next to it is a wood cabinet that’s padlocked shut.
Maverick goes to the cabinet, plucks a key from his keychain, and unlocks it, sliding the dark-stained doors open.
I gasp.
Inside, there are guns. A lot of them.
“Dad was a hunter,” Maverick tells me. He reaches inside, then pulls out a small handgun, weighing it in his hand for a second. Then he closes the cabinet, sliding the lock back into place. “Come with me.”
We go back up the stairs, past a window looking out at the pool in the middle of the house, then through a back door. We step outside onto a wooden deck with floral padded porch furniture and a shiny, stainless steel grill. We go down a few steps and stand in the grass, facing a massive, perfectly manicured lawn edged by a wall of trees.
Maverick turns to face me, the gun in his left hand pointed at the ground. “Rule number one: the gun is always loaded. Never point the barrel at anything you aren’t willing to shoot, even if you know it’s not loaded. It’s a deadly weapon, and should always be treated as such.”
I nod. “Okay.”
Maverick shows me the safety, how to reload it, and how to chamber a bullet. “Then, you just pull the trigger,” he tells me. He gestures for me to back up, and I take three giant steps away from him. He lifts the gun, aiming it at the edge of the woods, then pulls the trigger. The sound of the gunshot leaves my ears ringing.
When it’s over, Maverick slides the safety back into place, then holds the gun out to me. “You’ll want to use both hands until you get used to the recoil.”
I stand there, eyes wide, heart drumming against my ribcage. This is all happening too fast. “You want me to shoot it? Right now?” I choke out.
“Well, you don’t want the first time you shoot it t
o be the time when your life depends on it.”
“I—I,” I stutter. “I don’t want to use it.”
“I don’t want you to, either,” he says. “But you need to be ready.”
I squash the knot forming in my stomach. “Okay,” I try to be brave. “Okay.” I reach for the gun. My fingers brush Maverick’s as I take its weight from his hands, but I don’t flinch like the last time. He meets my eyes, a cautious look on his face, but I look away, turning my focus to the open yard.
I repeat the steps Maverick taught me moments ago, releasing the safety, then cocking the gun. I hold it up with both hands, arms shaking the tiniest bit.
“When you aim, look right there, right above that hole.” Maverick points, leaning close. Close enough for me to feel the heat radiating from his body. Then he steps back, the space between us returning to its normal distance. I shiver, but I suspect it’s not because of the cold or the fact that I’m holding a deadly weapon in my bare hands.
“Okay,” I whisper to myself, staring straight ahead, a tree coming into focus across the barrel of the gun. I take a deep breath, muscles tense. Then I pull the trigger.
A shock courses through my body at the force of the gun’s recoil. The sound of the shot permeates the air, rattling my bones. I lower my hands, steadying my breath.
I turn to Maverick, a cold fear piercing through me. I can’t imagine pulling that trigger when it’s pointed at someone. I can’t think about having to do that. I hold the gun out to him. “I think I get the point,” I say.
He holds my gaze for a second, then takes it from me, sliding the safety back into place and removing the bullets from the chamber easily. The gun felt out of place and awkward in my hands, but Maverick holds it like it belongs there. “I’m hoping that you won’t need it. But I want you to be able to defend yourself.”
“Is there any other way for me to protect myself? Preferably a less deadly way?” I ask.
Maverick slides something out of his pocket then tosses it in my direction. I look down at the small container. “Pepper spray?”
