Another message popped up from her.
Did u rly hear a phone in the dumpster?
YES! Weird, huh?
Rhonda’s maybe?
Gazoinks! She could be right and that would be seriously suspicious because who would take off without her phone? Quickly I texted back.
Go outside and call her. See if it rings in the dumpster.
After curfew. Can’t leave but I’m sooooo worried!
Do u want to call the police?
No! R was underaged. If the police find her, they’ll send her back home, which is worse than being here. R loved reading yr blog. Called herself Rebound. B4 she came here, she ran away and lived with her boyfriend, but then he kicked her out bc he had a new baby mama—jerk! Her heart was broken in a 1000 pieces. Now she’s gone. I feel so helpless.
I lost my breath for a moment. I remembered Rebound’s posts. She was always so sweet and thoughtful. Telling other girls to hang in there and to be strong.
We have to find out if it’s hers! Make an excuse to leave.
I CAN’T! If Maron catches me, she’d kick me out.
After what happened to me with Drey earlier, my stomach churned at the thought of any girl roaming around that neighborhood. I couldn’t take it! It was so unfair. I had to do something.
Give me her cell #. I’ll be there in 20 mins to check it out.
U R awesome! Digits below. Gotta go. Mrs. Osbourne is on the loose.
I ran downstairs and grabbed my keys. “I’m heading out!” I told my parents as I hurried through the kitchen.
Mom looked up from the eggplant she was chopping. “I don’t think so.”
“But I have to help a friend,” I pleaded.
Mom’s knife stopped and Dad peered over the top of his newspaper at me. “One of your friends?” Mom asked, then they looked at each other with hope in their eyes and I sensed that my eternal grounding might end early if I played my cards right.
“Who?” Mom asked.
“Nobody you know. It’s somebody new I met at my community service.”
Mom smiled at me hopefully. “Is she nice?”
“Yeah,” I said, playing along. “You’d really like her.” Mom and Dad looked at one another again, doing that kind of silent parental exchange where you’re sure they can read each other’s minds. I was hoping they were thinking that making new friends was better for me than sitting in my room alone.
“I promise I won’t be gone long,” I said.
My dad nodded and said, “Take your time.”
“But call if you’re going to be out late,” Mom told me.
“Thanks. Love you!” I ran out the door before they could change their minds.
I was kind of nervous to go back to the Southside, but I figured as long as I stayed parked close to HAG, I should be fine. Indy felt different as I drove, though. The straight streets now seemed slightly sinister. What was hidden behind all those big, leafy oak and elm trees? Who was lurking in the darkness of the parks? How many families like Johann’s and the others had slipped into seemingly normal lives behind the shutters and the doors on all these ordinary houses? Even those annoying Zombie Apparel billboards seemed creepier than stupid all of a sudden.
My world had been so small until this week. I used to blame that on being from a sleepy city smacked down in the middle of corn and bean fields. Now I knew I was seeing only a little bit of what was real. And what I used to think were enormous problems (my friends betraying me, my boyfriend cheating on me) shrunk in comparison to what people like Kayla and Rhonda and my para friends dealt with every day. At least I had a place to live with parents who cared and there was no weird Council threatening to uproot us if I messed up again. I felt a glimmer of Old Josie wanting to come out, but this time it wasn’t so bad. It was the part of me that liked to help people who were getting the raw end of the deal. Like the work I did for Habitat or the other fund-raisers I used to get all stupid excited about. Only helping someone personally, like Kayla or Rhonda, felt even better than baking cupcakes for some cause I couldn’t see.
When I got to HAG, I killed my lights and parked in a dark alley behind the building. My old friends and I used to do dumb crap at night like toilet paper an opposing team’s goalposts before a game. Or stake out the houses of guys we liked. We thought we were so awesome, all cramming into a car, cranking the music, and acting like idiots. Even though I didn’t want to act like that ever again, I did wish someone was with me, like Tarren, because getting out of the car alone was freaking me out.
But I promised Kayla I would help her, so I opened the door and ran on tiptoe across the lot to the gray Prius parked under a security light. I crouched behind the car, straining my eyes and ears to make sure nobody was around. The only thing I heard was the buzz of air conditioners and the beating of my heart. I dashed toward the Dumpster. From my old familiar hiding place by the wall, I opened my phone and punched in a text to Kayla.
Here now. Calling R.
I dialed Rhonda’s number then I waited.
And I waited.
And I waited some more.
What the hoo-haw! Did she give me the wrong number? My legs started to cramp. I texted Kayla again.
Did u give me the right number?
A second later my phone beeped, which made me jump and gasp. Some undercover reporter I’d make! Kayla wrote back.
Yes! Did u call it? Did it ring?
I dialed Rhonda again and waited, straining my ears this time, in case the phone got buried under more trash, but still I heard nothing. Which couldn’t be right. I peeked out from my hiding place. No one was around so I sneaked to the front of the Dumpster and slowly opened the lid. It squeaked like a rusty old coffin in a horror movie and the stench that wafted up was worse than zombie breath. I hit redial and listened to the phone ring in my ear, but nothing happened in the Dumpster.
“This can’t be right,” I mumbled to myself. I must have been doing something wrong. I dialed Kayla’s number so we could talk.
“Josie?” she whispered when she answered. “I’m not supposed to talk on my cell inside.”
“Are you sure you gave me Rhonda’s cell number?” I whispered back.
“Of course I am,” she whisper yelled. “Can’t you hear it?”
“No. I’ve called it over and over and nothing’s happening.” My whispers bounced around the inside of the Dumpster and filled up the murky alley. “It just keeps going to her voice mail. Maybe the battery died.” I stuck my head farther inside the Dumpster until my shirt pressed against the disgusting greasy edge and my face was inches from a reeking bag of garbage. “It has to be in here!” I said, but just as I was about to start digging through bags, I heard a familiar bark through Kayla’s phone that made me jump.
“Hey, you! You know you can’t use that phone in here.”
“I was just, I…I…” Kayla stuttered.
“Give me that!” Maron yelled.
“No, please,” Kayla said, then the phone went dead.
I dropped the lid, which crashed down and echoed through the alley. Certain Maron heard, I ran as fast as I could to Gladys, praying all the way that my car would start.
chapter 11
all weekend, I was dying to know what happened at HAG after Gladys laid rubber and squealed away faster than a speeding turtle. I tried a million times to reach Kayla Saturday and Sunday, but she never answered. I was freaking out because what if Maron stuffed her in the Dumpster? Or what if Kayla was pissed at me and didn’t want to answer? Finally, when I got out of bed on Monday, there was a text from her.
OMG! I thought Maron was going to KILL me on Fri, for reals. I told her u were my cuz calling b/c my grandma is sick. Boo-hoo! Maron is no dum-dum, tho. She threatened to call my parents! I begged her not to. Told her my dad is bad news. She took cell and computer privies for the wknd. Ha-ha! Thanks for your help. Wish I knew where Rhonda went :(
I was relieved, but still, I felt bad. I was sure that had been Rhonda’s phone in
the Dumpster. What else could it have been? As much as I wanted to go back to HAG to find out more, I couldn’t. Gladys was going to the doctor to find out what was causing the terrible clanking under her hood, so I was bus bait for the day. And anyway if I showed up at HAG on my day off, I’d get canned, then I’d never find out what happened. The best thing was to bide my time until my next shift when I could see Kayla again. Plus I had to get ready for anger management.
I changed my clothes at least 65,000 times. What would a werepire wear? I tried a red mini, striped tank top, and flip-flops. Then I put on black from head to toe. With every outfit, Helios floated through my mind. Would he like a skirt, shorts, or pants? Maybe a skort with leggings? A better question would be, why should I care? I threw all the clothes in a pile on my unmade bed and scowled at myself in the mirror. I swore when Kevin and I broke up that I would never again try to impress a guy. “Old Josie cared what guys thought,” I told my reflection. Then New Josie marched to her closet, closed her eyes, and pulled out the first two things she felt—vintage black and green plaid men’s golf shorts and a pink Hello Kitty tee on which I’d drawn a mustache and a bull’s-eye target. Perfect.
When I got to therapy, everyone was there but Charles, which meant there was an open seat beside Helios (where Charles sat last time) or the seat where I sat last time. I paused in the doorway and did the quick mental math. If I chose the seat I took last time, I was afraid it would seem like I didn’t want to sit by Helios, which I did. But if I took the seat by Helios, would it seem like I had a thing for him? Which I might, but I wasn’t sure I wanted everyone to think that quite yet. But wouldn’t it seem like I was blowing him off if I purposefully didn’t take the seat beside him? Then again, everybody else was in the exact same spot as last week, so maybe I should sit in mine, too. Then I thought nothing could be more boring than dissecting every single detail that goes through a girl’s mind when it’s infatuated with a paranormal hottie.
I walked across the room. Helios looked up at me, smiled, and pointed to the seat next to him with his eyebrows up. I plunked down beside him with a huge dork-ball smile on my face and he leaned toward me. I melted in his warm glow. “I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” he said.
“It’s this or juvie,” I told him.
“I feel your pain,” he said.
I turned in my chair and tried to ignore the blush crawling up my cheeks. Then I saw Johann, staring at me from across the room. His eyes were dark and cold. His mouth a tight, straight line. I stared right back at him. “What?”
“You don’t even say hello, Yosie?” Johann complained.
“Hello,” I said.
He leaned forward and grinned. “Hello,” he replied in a deep, husky voice like we were in a dark, smoky club with disco balls and hookahs. I rolled my eyes, which made Tarren laugh.
She smacked him on the shoulder. “Lay off, Yo,” she told him. “Your mind tricks don’t work on her.”
“Must be the vampire in her,” Avis said. “Makes her immune.”
“That’s all,” I told Johann with a smile. I didn’t want him to know that he was a cut-rate vampire with no mind control powers because he was a good guy, even if he was a 100 percent cheese ball who liked to partner dance.
Charles ambled into the room with a mess of folders in his arms. He looked momentarily confused by the new seating arrangement, but then he dumped his stuff on the empty desk and said, “Why don’t we get started. Helios, we haven’t heard from you for a while. Tell us about your week.”
“Uneventful,” Helios said.
Charles pressed his fingers into a tent in front of his mouth. “The last time you shared, you spoke about the tension between you and your father.”
“He returned to Greece,” said Helios, as unemotional as marble.
“Yes, but he’ll visit again and the same issues will be there,” Charles said.
Helios’s nostrils flared. “Perhaps,” he said. “But my life is none of his affair.”
A cloud passed by the sun outside and the room momentarily darkened. Helios rolled his eyes and grimaced.
“What do the rest of you think about that?” Charles asked. “Do your parents have a say in your life choices?”
“Depends on whether they care enough,” said Tarren, glumly. Avis reached out and laid a hand on her slumped shoulder.
“How about you, Josie? What role do your parents play in your life?” Charles asked.
“When I was little they had a say in everything I did, but now, it’s less than they’d like but more than I want,” I said.
Charles chuckled. “Well put,” he said. “Asserting oneself as an individual separate from the parents is a long, slow process. Maybe the longest for you, Johann, because you’ve been, what, eighteen since the 1980s?”
“Dang!” I blurted out. “Being stuck in high school for thirty years straight would make me want to be homeschooled!” Everybody laughed, even Johann. But I wasn’t trying to be funny and I had a million questions about Johann’s family after the other night. I leaned forward. “Did your mother or father, you know, change you?” I asked. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled as I waited for his answer.
“No, no, I was created outside an East Berlin discotheque in 1982 by an ancient one. Transylvanian actually,” Johann said, looking directly at me, as if I should be impressed. Oooh, Dracula. “I’ve been with Augustus and Elaine for the past twenty years,” he continued. “But it’s not so bad. Except when Elaine tries to mother me. I suppose she misses her own children.”
“And how do you feel when she does this?” Charles asked.
“It’s entirely embarrassing and exasperating!” Johann said. “Like when Yosie was at my house the other night…”
Everyone turned and stared at me. I shrank in my seat and glanced at Helios who watched me with one eyebrow raised. “My car broke down,” I offered meekly. “I needed to use his phone.”
“And Elaine immediately pounced on her,” Johann continued.
“Literally,” I muttered.
“She should meet my mother,” Helios said, and my heart did a little flip. “The minute I bring anyone in the door, Mother is all over her with a thousand questions.”
This time I stared at him, wondering how many girls he brought home every week. Mr. Paranormal Romance himself!
“What about you, Avis?” Charles asked.
Avis smiled apologetically. “What can I say? I’ve got it good. My parents give me space when I need it but they’re also always there for me. I think shape-shifters are like that. They get that everybody needs a little room to change. Is that how your mom is, Josie?”
I thought about this, then I said, “Yes. My mom gives me space, even when she doesn’t understand me.” Tarren scowled at me, which was weird because I thought we had a moment on her porch the other day. But I knew that kind of look. It was the same one I used to get in the halls at school from a group of girls who didn’t make the cheerleading squad. They were nice as pie to my face but when they thought I wasn’t looking, they stared daggers. I looked away from Tarren. Why was it so hard to be friends with girls, even faerie princesses? I just hoped Tarren’s powers didn’t make her super pissy!
Charles spent the next forty minutes yack-yack-yacking about how we could get along better with our parents. I spent most of that time stealing glances at Helios’s amazing profile. He had possibly the most exquisite nose I’d ever seen and I had the overwhelming urge to draw pictures of him or sculpt him to capture that perfection. Every once in a while, he caught me looking at him and we locked eyes then I got all hot and bothered and had to squirm in my seat like a three-year-old who needed to pee.
Outside, after the session, we all gathered on the sidewalk. It was a gorgeous end-of-summer evening. The humidity had lifted and there was a breeze in the air that promised fall would soon come. Every day felt a little shorter than the last, and that evening the sky was already pinkish as the sun considered its descent.
“B
uffy’s?” Tarren asked.
“Nah,” said Avis. “It’s too nice to go underground.” He rocked his foot back and forth on his skateboard like he was itching to ride.
“Anyone feel like some b-ball?” Helios asked, miming a jump shot.
“Now that’s an idea,” said Avis. “You got a ball?”
Helios nodded. “In my car.”
“Ladies?” Avis asked, turning to us.
“I’d go,” I said, because once again, what else could I possibly have to do?
“Fine,” said Tarren. “But I’m playing, too. You can’t leave me out just because I’m a girl and I’m short.”
“We let Johann play,” Avis said.
“Very funny,” Johann said. “You believe because I am a ballroom dancer, I am not a man, well let me tell you, I am more of a man in my small finger than you are in your pants.”
“What?” Avis laughed. “You want to put your finger in my pants? That’s nasty!”
“Op, nope, erp,” Johann protested. “That is not…”
“In or out?” Avis asked.
“In,” Johann said, defeated.
The courts in the park by White River were deserted. “I swear,” I said, climbing on top of a picnic table, “sometimes it’s like a nuclear warhead landed on Indy and everyone’s either dead or hiding in a bomb shelter.”
“I love it when no one’s around,” Avis said. He jogged onto the court and held out his hands for the ball. Helios bounce passed it to him and ran lazily toward the basket. Avis passed it back to Helios who missed an easy layup.
Tarren dropped her bag on the table beside me. “You’re playing, aren’t you?”
“I’m not so good at ball sports,” I admitted.
Tarren rolled her eyes and pointed to the court where Johann ran around, flapping his arms like a spaz. “Believe me, there’s not much competition here. Everyone kind of sucks.”
Josie Griffin Is Not a Vampire Page 8
