Jacqueline took a deep breath, gathered her wits. This sounded like a story she’d write in her old notebook to pass the time when she was younger. What if it was just as made up?
“How did you get back?” she asked.
“I saw the truth. My conscience awakened. Knowledge opened up to me, and the path home to you was clear. And so I came running—or floating, I guess—as fast as I could.”
“What kinda truth did you learn?”
“That there’s so much I don’t know,” he said.
“That’s helpful.”
“I’m sorry, Jackie, but it’s the best I can do. Like I said, I was sent here to protect you…but I can’t do that unless I know the truth. I need to go back. I need to prepare for what’s ahead…whatever that might be.”
Jacqueline felt something squishy in her hand and looked down. She still held one of Mitzy’s cookies, the chocolate chips melting against her fingers. She put the uneaten portion back on the paper towel with the rest and licked her fingers clean. The sweetness vibrated on her tongue.
“This sounds so weird,” she said between licks. “You know that, right?”
“I do,” said Mal. “But do you believe me?”
Jacqueline sighed. “If I don’t believe you, then I’ll hate you for leaving. I was so sad when you were gone.”
“I don’t want that.” Mal frowned. “I love you.”
“I do too.”
“I wish I could hold you right this second.”
Jacqueline thought of Todd and the dance once more, and she swooned. “Me too,” she said.
“Jackie?” Mal said, suddenly looking drained.
“Yeah?”
“I don’t want to answer more questions. Could you just read to me?”
“Sure. What?”
“Surprise me,” he said with a tired smile.
Jacqueline rummaged through the other bedroom on the second floor, which acted as her aunt’s library. She picked a book called Lolita, written by some guy with a Russian name. She then sat down in front of Mal and read. The writing was clunky, the story disturbing—some older teacher falling in love with a girl even younger than herself—but Mal seemed to be enjoying himself. She read until his eyes closed. The sound of his snores vibrated the compact. Jacqueline had never seen Mal sleep before, didn’t even know he had to. For as long as she’d known him, he’d simply been the boy in the mirror, as constant as the rising sun.
But seeing him doze made him seem more real.
Jacqueline closed the book and watched Mal’s lips flutter. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t eaten anything other than a cookie-and-a-half since getting home. She set the book aside, took a sloppy bite of the half-melted cookie, and went downstairs.
The Indian food waited for her in the fridge, but when she opened the white box, the smell of day-old curry upset her stomach. She quickly resealed the container and put it back. Then she perused the cupboards, seeing Spaghetti-O’s, macaroni and cheese, cans of fruit, bread, peanut butter and jelly, and of course breakfast cereal, but none of it seemed appealing. What she really wanted was pizza. She grabbed the phone and called DaVinci’s, a little mom-and-pop place right off the main drag, ordering a small white pizza with spinach and tomatoes. The guy on the phone said it’d take forty minutes.
“Oh, man,” Jacqueline moaned. She didn’t have any money. She briefly considered running next door to Mr. Mancuso’s and asking him to borrow the fifteen bucks she’d need, but decided against it. Mitzy had to have money laying around the house someplace.
She searched her aunt’s downstairs bedroom, then the bathroom, the living room, the laundry room in the basement, and the closet next to the front door, but there wasn’t any money to be found. She glanced at the clock. The delivery guy would be there in twelve minutes. She almost went to Mr. Mancuso’s, but decided to try one last place first.
She dashed upstairs to the spare bedroom and rummaged through the bookcase and storage bins. Her last chance was the closet, and she sifted through the old, dusty clothes hanging there before grabbing a stool from the corner and looking at the shelf above the hanging bar, which was stacked with shoe boxes.
That’s where she found exactly what she was searching for: a steel lockbox, like the one Papa Gelick used to keep his church funds in, hidden behind one of the shoeboxes. Jacqueline recoiled slightly at the memory of the pastor. Had it really been only two-and-a-half months since Mitzy rescued her?
She brought the heavy box down and set it on the floor, breathing a sigh of relief when the latch popped open without a key. She opened the lid, and her breath was stolen away. Inside the box were three massive stacks of money resting in a black tray. She touched the bills lightly. There had to be thousands of dollars in there. Where did Mitzy get all this? She lifted out the black tray, revealing, much to her surprise, a black pistol and a plastic bag stuffed with dried green leaves. Her eyes widened at the sight of the gun. What the hell? She slid it aside gently, the steel cold against her fingertips, and picked up the bag. The substance inside was twisted into clumps, lined with purple and red veins and shimmering crystals. Pot, she thought, turning the bag over in her hand. She’d only smoked weed twice, both times with Tyler. Maybe Mitzy was a drug dealer or something? At least that would explain the wads of cash resting in the tray beside her.
And then there was the gun.
No, she told herself. It’s for protection. Mitzy wouldn’t do something like that.
Jacqueline opened the bag and twisted off a single small bud. The texture was quite sticky, and it stunk with a sort of gross sweetness. Jacqueline placed the bud on top of a piece of paper, put the bag back beside its lethal partner in crime, replaced the black tray, removed a single twenty dollar bill, and finally closed and latched the box. After putting it back where it belonged, she crumpled the paper around her small nugget of weed and stuffed it in her pocket before taking off downstairs. The doorbell rang when she was halfway down the steps.
She was flustered and panting as she paid the young delivery guy. Jacqueline gave him the whole twenty, and he thanked her profusely. She then stood at the picture window, munching on a slice of pizza, letting the cheesy goodness fill her belly, and watched him drive off into the newly-dark night. Mental note, she told herself. Get rid of the box before Mitzy comes home. If her aunt asked Jacqueline where she got the money to pay for it, what would she say?
The last piece was devoured not ten minutes later. Jacqueline licked her fingers and walked out the back door, heading for Mr. Mancuso’s trash can instead of their own. She checked to make sure the man wasn’t around and tossed the box into the barrel.
On her way back to the house, a low sound reached her ears, like growling. Jacqueline stopped and glanced behind her. The trees abutting the rear of Mitzy’s property shifted. She began to tiptoe toward the house until another growl sounded. She thought of the gun hidden in the lockbox and wished she’d brought it with her.
Jacqueline took off at a dead sprint. In a matter of seconds she was back in the house, hurriedly locking the door. Shivering, she grabbed her backpack and went upstairs, locked herself in her room. She couldn’t concentrate on homework, so she turned on the radio. The host came on during a break between songs to talk about a girl named Penny Riddell, who’d been reportedly mauled by coyotes in Enfield, a couple towns over, the night before. Jacqueline quickly snapped off the radio. She grabbed the compact, gave Mal’s dozing face a kiss, and slid into bed with her clothes on. With Mal next to her she had nothing to fear, and her nerves settled. Before Aunt Mitzy came home, she drifted off to sleep.
That night, she didn’t dream at all.
CHAPTER 23
The cafeteria buzzed more so than usual. Jacqueline stood in a line of students, tray in hand, working her way toward the serving counters. She stared at the sad-looking carrots, watery mashed potatoes, and roast beef that seemed a little too gray, and frowned. The only other options were hamburgers, cheeseburgers, and chicken patty san
dwiches. Not exactly healthy.
Jacqueline’s stomach rumbled. Mitzy usually had her lunch waiting on the counter in the morning, but her aunt had been away late for work again and overslept. It didn’t help that with her working all the time, there hadn’t been anything to make for lunch anyway.
She got a small helping of the sad-looking vegetables and a bottle of spring water. She had to give her student ID card to the woman manning the cash register, since she had no money on her. Then she left the line and headed toward the back of the cafeteria.
On her way past the seniors’ tables, she looked for Todd. He was there as usual, joking with his friend Drew. He glanced up, his eyes met hers, and he smiled and waved. Jacqueline blushed, gnawed on her lip. Ask me over, ask me over, ask me over. But he didn’t. She then noticed Jordan Thompson and Andrea Newsome were looking at her as well, as was Hannah Phillips. In fact, it seemed most of the senior table gawked at her. Embarrassed, Jacqueline flipped her hair so it fell in front of her eyes and hurried toward her isolated corner.
When she reached an open seat, she glared at the ugly yellow molded plastic chair as if it had just insulted her dead mother. A couple of the stoner kids sitting at that table stared blankly at her. Jacqueline looked back at Todd, who’d resumed talking to his friends. That group of seniors seemed so tight-knit that nothing could ever break them apart. That was something she wanted, and right then she realized that she hadn’t been fighting hard enough to get it.
She took a deep breath, threw her head back, and strode across the cafeteria to where the Otaku Clan sat. Marching right up to them, she deliberately put her tray down on the table. Four heads turned. Jacqueline pulled out her old chair, a book bag sitting where her butt should be.
“Seat’s taken,” Annette said with a glare, seizing the leg of the chair, holding it in place. The rest of the Clan remained silent.
“No, it’s not,” Jacqueline said.
She pulled at the chair, wrenching it from Annette’s grasp. Jacqueline set the book bag on the ground before slipping into the seat and inching closer to the table. All eyes were on her. Ronni seemed uncomfortable, Neil bemused, Olivia fascinated, and Annette cold.
“Why’re you here?” Annette asked. “This table’s for friends only.”
Jacqueline speared a sad carrot with her plastic fork, plunked it into her mouth, and chewed. “I am your friend,” she said after she’d swallowed.
“Not after what you did,” Neil said.
“Exactly,” said Annette.
Her friend’s stare seemed hostile. Jacqueline put down her fork and folded her hands in her lap. She looked at each of the Otakus in turn. “What, exactly, did I do?”
Annette rolled her eyes. “You moped around for weeks like your dog just died, then you suddenly seem better. I thought you wanted to bond. But you used us. You brought us someplace we didn’t want to be and abandoned us to be with a jerk none of us like. You know what those other boys said to me after you left?” She shook her head in disgust. “They scared me…and I hate being scared.”
Jacqueline nodded, waiting for someone else to chime in. When none did, she took a deep breath and channeled her inner Mitzy.
“I’m sorry,” she told Annette. “You’re right, I was selfish. But aren’t we all sometimes? And besides, you should be honored. I found out a boy liked me, and it scared me, so I turned to you to protect me.”
“Nice of you to tell me about it first. I love going into things blind.”
“No one’s perfect. I was scared too, you know.”
“But Todd?” said Ronni.
Jacqueline shrugged. “Why not? I took a chance. You’d do it too.”
“Ha!” said Neil. “Todd Sowinger’s a dick.”
“Maybe,” Jacqueline replied kindly. “Or maybe he’s not. He was really nice to me.”
“He’s been a jerk for years,” Annette said. “He’s never been nice to us.”
“I know. But maybe he’s just acting. Y’know, playing the part he’s supposed to play. He didn’t seem that way in private.” She raised her hands, palms up. “Maybe he’s just as scared as all of us. Maybe I can bring out the real him.”
“Hard to do that when he won’t talk to you,” Olivia said. It was the first time she’d spoken, and unlike the others, she seemed more concerned than upset. “I haven’t seen you guys together in school at all.”
Jacqueline frowned. “Yeah. It’s a little confusing. He said he wants to take things slow. Who knows? Maybe we’ll get together, maybe he won’t ever do anything with me again. But after the last few weeks, I needed to feel needed. Y’know?”
“And what was that?” Annette asked. “Why the drama party? I know I defended you before about not wanting to open up, but if you really wanna be friends, you’re gonna have show some trust here.”
For a split second, Jacqueline almost spilled the whole truth, but she held her tongue. She didn’t want them to think she was crazy. So she told an altered version instead.
“I was in foster care for five years,” she said. “Me and this boy…Mikey…hopped around from home to home. He was my closest friend, my only friend, for a long time. Then my aunt found me, and she became my legal guardian and brought me here. Mikey couldn’t come, but we stayed in touch. Then, a few weeks ago, he stopped calling. Like he just didn’t care anymore. I felt alone all over again.”
“Oh,” said Ronni. “I’m sorry.”
Jacqueline bit back tears. “It’s okay. Just please, don’t ask why I was in foster care. I don’t think I can talk about that yet.”
Olivia nodded. “Okay. We won’t.”
Annette finally smiled, reached over and squeezed Jacqueline’s arm. “Thank you,” she said. “That’s all we wanted.”
“Really?”
“Well, maybe not all, but it’s a start.”
“Okay.”
“Bygones and all that?” asked Neil.
Jacqueline nodded. “Bygones.”
Olivia grinned. “Good to have you back, chica.”
“Yeah,” said Ronni, a relieved smile on her plump, pretty face. “I didn’t like having to be mad at you.”
Everyone laughed at that.
“Listen guys,” Jacqueline said when the laughter died down. “I need to let you know I appreciate you. You’re the best friends I have. I don’t wanna lose you again.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” Ronni said.
After that, conversation went back to normal. They talked about anime and video games, and Neil pestered a moaning Annette about starting up a Dungeons and Dragons club. Jacqueline laughed with them, engaged in the conversation and asking questions like she always did. It was like the last few weeks had never happened at all, and she was more than thankful for that.
Then, suddenly, all chatter ceased. Jacqueline’s mouth dropped open when she saw Hannah Phillips walking toward their table. Annette started, Olivia narrowed her eyes, Neil turned away, and Ronni seemed to shrink into herself.
The statuesque senior girl stopped in front of the table and looked down at Jacqueline. Hannah swept her hair off her shoulder and smiled. Jacqueline sat there, in awe of the girl. Hannah was model-gorgeous; she could mesmerize anyone without saying a word.
“Um, hi,” Jacqueline said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Jacqueline,” Hannah said, “I don’t think we’ve ever really met.”
“Nope,” she answered. Hannah’s voice was captivating, low and confident, kind of like Annette’s.
Hannah nodded. “I have a proposition for you. Halloween’s two weeks from today, and that Saturday my boyfriend’s having his annual party. You interested in coming?”
Jacqueline shrugged.
“Well, are you?” Hannah asked again.
“I…I don’t know.”
“Think about it. Just know that I think there’s someone who’d really like it if you showed up.” Hannah lifted her eyes, frowning as she looked at Jacqueline’s friends. “And sorry, but this invite�
�s for Jacqueline only. No offense.”
The other Otakus stared at her blankly.
“Okay then. Anyway, see you ’round, Jacqueline.”
“Okay.”
Hannah gracefully spun around and went back to her table. Jacqueline watched her go, a mixture of disbelief and excitement churning in her gut.
“What the hell was that all about?” asked Olivia.
Jacqueline shook her head.
Annette’s lips twisted into a skeptical half-grin. “So you gonna go? Sounds dangerous if you ask me.”
“I don’t know,” Jacqueline answered. And the truth was, she really didn’t.
CHAPTER 24
Jacqueline walked down the hall with her head down, only looking up when someone spoke to her. Annette Shepherd watched her from afar. Jacqueline was the most maddening person she’d met in her fifteen years of life. She was smart but struggled in most her classes; compact and athletic even though she carried herself in a plodding, careless way; exotically beautiful yet possessed of low self esteem.
The whole Todd Sowinger mess just made it worse.
Todd had tormented Annette since she was in grade school. He’d said unspeakable things to Neil, even beat him up a few years back. How could someone who called her a friend not know that was wrong? How could a friend not realize people like that don’t change?
Annette closed her eyes and leaned against her locker. At times she wondered why she was friends with Jacqueline at all. At times she thought that maybe, just maybe, the stunt at the dance should’ve been the last straw. Yet there was just something so alluring about her. Again, it was all about contradictions. Jacqueline could be both oblivious and worldly. She didn’t seem to realize how pretty she was. Jacqueline was pretty even when she wasn’t trying. Not that Annette thought herself ugly, but she’d look like a little girl for the rest of her life, just like her mom, whose dating history after her dad was a parade of older men who admired her mainly because she looked so young. Creeps.
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