Cipher c-1

by Cindi Madsen

  Kendall shook her head. “Just make sure you look presentable on Friday.”

  “Yeah, about your party. You’ll be busy, and you’ll have Jack—”

  “You are not cancelling on me.”

  “Of course not.” Summer bit her lip. “I was just thinking of bring reinforcements. I need someone to get me through the night.”

  Kendall leaned in conspiratorially. “Who’s the new guy?”

  “No, not a guy. I’m going to bring Ashlyn. For moral support,” she added when Kendall continued to stare.

  “That girl you keep hanging around?” Kendall asked, as if she didn’t know.

  Summer nodded, deciding the fewer words Kendall could turn on her, the better.

  “Whatever,” she huffed. “Just don’t bring the whole Reject Gang. That would be a huge party killer.”

  Good enough for Summer, even if she didn’t agree. She broke away from Kendall before she changed her mind and headed to the cafeteria. She caught Ashlyn just before she reached the table. “Okay, so you’re going to come with me to Kendall’s birthday party on Friday.”

  Ashlyn’s eyebrows shot up so high they got lost in her bangs. “No way. I’m not goin’ to that.”

  “But…?” Summer thought she’d be happy. Kendall went all out, and most people tried to get invites. “It’ll be fun.”

  Ashlyn pressed her lips together, almost like she was afraid of how she might respond.

  “Come on, you dragged me out into the freezing water first thing in the morning,” Summer said. “I doubted you at first, but now I’m happy that I let you talk me into it.”

  “I don’t want to be around those people.” Ashlyn’s eyes met Summer’s. “And I’m afraid of who you’ll be around them.”

  Frustration bubbled up, along with a twinge of offense. “I’ll be me. But I’ll have you to make the night more interesting.”

  Ashlyn started toward the table, then spun around so fast Summer nearly plowed into her. “I heard you and your friends making fun of some people a couple months back, okay? You didn’t really say anything, but you laughed along with the rest of them. That’s why I didn’t like you at first. That’s why I felt so protective of our group. I like hanging out with you, but you and them…? I don’t think I’ll like it.”

  All the times she’d made fun of others came back to her, unwelcome memories she’d rather erase. Jabs against fashion. Dancing. Social skills—she’d pretty much covered all the topics. She’d thought of it as light-hearted fun. But she couldn’t deny the fact that most of the people she’d mocked were kind-hearted guys and girls who would be crushed by her comments. Memories stacked one by one on her shoulders, weighing her down.

  “You’re right. There’ve been times when I was downright bitchy, no good excuse for it. I can’t change the past. But I swear, I’m trying to be better. I have to go to this party, and Cody will be there. I don’t want to face him alone.”

  “Then take Troy.”

  “That’s not a good idea with Cody there. They don’t like each other, and the last thing I need is a fight to break out.” The bag in Summer’s hand crinkled as she clasped her hands in prayer position. “Please, Ash. I really want you to go with me. I need you to remind me of that stuff we talked about in the car before your soda peed all over you.”

  Not even a smile. Tough crowd. Without a word, Ashlyn looped around the table and sat in her normal place. Unsure what else to do, Summer sat in hers. When Ashlyn looked across the table, Summer put on her best puppy dog face, sticking her bottom lip out as far as she could.

  Ashlyn rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” Summer got out her lunch: A peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a mini bag of Doritos, and a sandwich bag filled with Oreos.

  Ashlyn shook her head. “I seriously can’t believe all you eat is junk food. It’s so unfair.”

  “It’s not junk food. There’s…fruit in the jam. Yeah, that makes it healthy.”

  Troy plopped down next to Summer, straddling the bench and facing her instead of the table. “Meant to tell you earlier, but you look very rocker today.”

  Summer tucked a frizzy curl behind her ear. “This is what happens when I don’t do my hair.”

  One corner of Troy’s mouth twisted up. “I like it.” He glanced at Ashlyn. “I hear you got Sunshine out in the water this morning. Is she any good?”

  “Not yet,” Ashlyn said. “But she will be once I’m through with her.”

  Troy stole one of Summer’s Oreos and stood. “See you guys around.” With that, he was off. His visits were always so sporadic. A quick hi. A cookie snatching. A compliment about her wild hair—warmth filled her chest as she thought about that last one. She definitely preferred rocker to a huge mess.

  But why’s he in such a hurry to be somewhere else, lately?

  She twisted and watched him weave his way through the cafeteria. People stopped to talk or wave, no matter what group they were in. Skaters, gamers, stoners—there was some overlap there—the drama club, the people who were somewhere in between jocks and geeks, girls, guys. Basically Troy knew everyone, and everyone knew him.

  Darren scooted next to Ashlyn, drawing Summer’s attention. It took almost an entire week, but Summer finally saw the small differences between him and Aaron. “Hey, I’ve got a joke for you guys.”

  Summer propped her elbows on the table. “It’s been a while since I heard a good joke.”

  Darren readjusted his round glasses. “How many computer support staffers does it take to change a light bulb?” He raised his eyebrows and looked at them, apparently waiting for an answer.

  “No clue,” Ashlyn said.

  He didn’t say anything, simply sat there like someone had hit his pause button.

  Ashlyn nudged him. “Tell us.”

  “Four. One to ask what the registration number of the bulb is, one to ask if you’ve tried to reboot, another to ask if you’ve tried reinstalling, and the last to say it must be your hardware, because our light bulb here is working fine.” He broke into laughter and smacked the table with his open palm.

  Summer laughed more at his reaction to the joke than the actual punch line.

  “So what did you think?” he asked.

  “You know how I said it’s been a while since I’ve heard a good joke?” Summer was going to say, It still has, but he looked so proud and sincere, and she didn’t know if he’d get her sarcasm. “I guess I’ll have to restart my countdown.”

  Darren made a fist and yanked it down. “Score!”

  Aaron scooted down. “Okay, if you think that one is good, wait until you hear mine…”

  Summer listened to another computer joke that she didn’t even come close to getting, but she laughed anyway. Although she didn’t have much in common with anyone in this group besides Ashlyn, she felt more relaxed here. No one mentioned her hair needed serum or whose parents were getting divorced. They didn’t imply Dad was dating someone too young for him. Regardless of the fact most of them got teased on a regular basis, they seemed so confident in who they were. She admired that about them.

  It wasn’t like she could divulge her biggest secret—that she sometimes saw deaths before they happened. Or that she and the Angel of Death were on a first name basis. Still, here existed a security she didn’t feel with her other friends. An acceptance that didn’t rely on whom you were dating, what you wore, or if you were any good at sports.

  Aaron looked across the table and flashed his crooked grin at her. “We’re glad you come hang out with us sometimes.”

  “I have a good time over here,” Summer said. “Where else can you get lunch and computer jokes?”

  Aaron’s eyebrows lowered. “Do you want the statistics, or is that one of those rhetorical questions I keep getting in trouble for answering?”

  “It was rhetorical, but it’s good to know I can come to you if I’m looking for stats.”

  That prompted
him to pull out his calculator and show her a program he had in it to help calculate statistics. When Summer’s gaze drifted up, she saw some of the girls from the dance team pointing at them. Summer waved, but the girls walked away without waving back, or even acknowledging her presence.

  Maybe they didn’t see me. Come to think of it, though, she was getting a lot of icy looks from the squad. She supposed she should stick around after practice and try to make nice before she lost half her friends.

  This whole balance thing was trickier than she’d expected. Add one more item to her Things-I’m-failing-at list.

  * * *

  Summer dragged herself upstairs to her bedroom, every step taking way more effort than it should. During practice, several of the girls had made catty comments to her, and because of her early morning surf session, she hadn’t had the desire or energy to hang out afterwards to try to repair things. If they wanted to be rude, that was their problem.

  Gabriella sat on the foot of the bed, drumming her fingers on her thighs. If Summer had enough energy to run in the other direction, she would’ve. The Angel of Death straightened, her eyes brightening, so it was too late anyway. “Hello, Summer Dear! How are things coming along with Ashlyn and her mom?”

  Geez, is the woman never not cheery? Summer swung her door closed and tossed her bag on the floor. “I’m starting to think that Ashlyn’s mom deserves to feel guilty. Ashlyn will be happy, then Pamela puts her down, and her self-esteem plummets.”

  “Well, that’s exactly why you’re supposed to be helping them repair their relationship, and you need to do it soon. Before it’s too late.”

  The reason Summer had gotten to know Ashlyn was because Gabriella told her to. Because Ashlyn was dying. An ache radiated over her heart, and she pressed her hand to her chest. Over the past few days she’d found out just how awesome Ashlyn was. She hadn’t wanted her to die before, but now… The ache sharpened, digging in its claws. “Can’t I do something to keep her from dying?”

  Gabriella let out a long-suffering sigh. “This is your problem. You don’t realize the importance of your job.”

  Summer ran a hand through her hair and flopped down on the bed next to Gabriella. “But I still have some time, right?”

  “She’s got a little while yet, but that doesn’t mean you can waste it doing nothing.”

  Her first instinct was to argue that she wasn’t doing nothing. She bit it back, trying to focus on what would help Ashlyn. “I just think she’ll trust me the more I get to know her. Then I’ll be able to do a better job figuring out how to help her.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but you’ve got to put a rush on it. I’m not sure what else to tell you. You should be a natural at this. I’m not used to working with someone who doesn’t—” Her head jerked up. “Your dad’s coming. I’ll try to check in again soon. But please, get moving on this.”

  There was a knock on the door—Dad, apparently.

  Summer waved her hand though the glittery outline Gabriella left, trying to disperse it. She wasn’t sure if Dad would be able to see it, but just in case, she thought it’d be easier to make sure it was gone than try to explain. When it finished fading, she raised her voice. “Come on in.”

  Dad stepped inside and looked around. “It sounded like you were talking to someone.”

  “I was on the phone.”

  “Funny, because you left this in the key bowl.” Dad held up her cell phone. “It kept ringing, so I decided it might be important. You know, Kendall might’ve broken a nail or something.”

  Summer bit her lip as Dad’s eyes bored into her. “I talk to myself sometimes. I didn’t want to say that because it makes me feel like a crazy person.”

  Dad nodded his head and gave her a weak smile. “I talk to her too sometimes.”

  Dad knows about Gabriella? “You do?”

  “Sure. I miss your mom as much as you do. If I talk aloud, it sometimes feels like she’s listening.”

  A giant lump formed in Summer’s throat. Ever since Tiffany had entered the picture, she’d decided Dad didn’t miss Mom as much as he should. Now, she felt like she didn’t miss her as much as she should. “You think she knows what we’re doing? That we miss her?”

  Dad crossed the room and sat next to her, right where Gabriella was only moments ago. “I’m sure she does.”

  Summer wondered what Mom thought about everything. How superficial she’d become since moving here, how she’d shut everything out, losing the independent person she used to pride herself on being in the process. And what did Mom think about Summer’s new job?

  Dad patted Summer’s knee, and she suddenly wanted to tell him everything. She knew he’d have good advice to help her out with her Cipher job. But she couldn’t think of a way to tell him about it without disclosing her darkest secret. Without telling him she didn’t try hard enough to keep Mom alive.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Is something wrong?” Troy asked her as he pulled in front of Off the Record. “You’ve hardly said a word.” After chemistry class, he’d asked Summer if she wanted to go with him after school to get the new Monkey Saddle vinyl he’d ordered. He’d promised her fries across the street afterward, too, as if she’d needed any more motivation that flipping through old records with him. What she hadn’t expected, though, was the icky sensation she’d have in her gut by the time school let out. Or the desperation she’d feel after wracking her brain all day for a way to help Ash and still ending up with a whole lot of nothing.

  “I’m a little tired,” she said. Not a complete lie. All the stress and worry had made it impossible to sleep last night. The truth played over and over in her head: She needed to think of some way to help Ashlyn and Pamela repair their relationship, and failure was not an option. Gabriella claimed she should be a natural, which only made the icky sensation worse. Nothing about her problem-solving job seemed natural. In fact, she kept coming up blank, then the depression would hit.

  The sun hit Troy’s silver thumb ring, sending light bouncing around the car. “We don’t have to do this now. I can get the album later.”

  Good thing she was an expert at forcing down her problems and acting like everything was cool. “Nonsense. We’re already here, and I’ll feel better once I get my blood pumping. Plus, you promised there would be fries.”

  He smiled, easing the concern in his features. “So, so many fries.”

  For the first time all day, she found herself smiling for real. Being around Troy calmed her, and she could use a lot of help in that department. She got out of the car and met Troy on the sidewalk.

  The chime over the door rang as they pushed inside the record store. Summer inhaled the air that only a mix of old and new records could bring. Aisles of records filled the place, treasures she’d love to take home. Only she usually chose CD or digital versions, whereas Troy had a record player and the collection to go with it.

  His album would be waiting behind the counter, but he walked to the shelves and started to flip through them. Summer stuck next to him, watching his expressions as he took in each album. He wrinkled his nose. Nodded at the next one. Pulled out an old Aerosmith album—Pump—and ran his hand across the cover, which basically looked like one truck humping another.

  “Already have this one, though,” he said, more to himself she thought, then put it back.

  “One of your dad’s?”

  He nodded. A large part of his collection had been his dad’s, though he avoided talking about the guy for the most part. In fact, he was moving on, obviously not wanting to say anything else about the subject.

  Summer drifted in the other direction. Up front they had buttons and key chains. She was definitely ready to get rid of her clunky one. As she spun through the rack, though, her thoughts drifted back to Ashlyn. Days ago she’d been laughing and hanging out with Ashlyn, thinking how awesome it was to find someone who got her. Ashlyn didn’t care when she went off on random tangents. She seemed to like her sarcasm and weird jokes. In fact
, she added to them. Laughed along with her.

  I’ve never clicked with anyone like I’ve clicked with her. Her heart was folding in on itself again, the ickiness spreading throughout her insides once more.

  There had to be a way around it. A way to make up for the lives she couldn’t save. She was sure if she concocted a good enough plan, she could find a way to change the future. To keep Ash alive.

  “How about that one?” Troy asked.

  Summer hadn’t even heard him come over. She followed his finger and saw him pointing to a keychain that said, I’m not crazy. ask my invisible friend. He reached down and picked up another. cute but psycho, kind of evens things out.

  The first one seemed like a joke, but now worry was taking hold. Had other people noticed she was starting to lose it? “Why would you suggest those?”

  “Well, this one because you’re cute, and this one because you’re a little crazy.” Troy nudged her. “Come on, it’s a joke.”

  Right. If it was a joke it might be funny. “I think I’ll just keep the one I have. Or take it off. I don’t really need a keychain. It’s not like I can’t find my keys as long as I have the canister of mace attached to them.”

  The urge to get out of the store overwhelmed her. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be in here anymore.”

  “One sec. Gotta buy my stuff first.”

  Summer twisted a strand around her hair as she waited, shifting her wait from one foot to another. Troy was laughing with the cashier, in no hurry whatsoever. Summer kept glancing at the door. Her pulse was picking up speed. She needed out of here. Now.

  She started for the door.

  Troy caught up to her as she was pushing out of it. “I should’ve known you had a time limit before the need for fries caught up to you.”

  As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Summer bumped into a man who’d been walking the other direction.

  The man’s head drops down. Pops back up. His eyes droop again, and his head dips further down. The car veers right, narrowly missing another car. Slams into the concrete, the metal peeling away from the barrier. His head hits the steering wheel, his right side—arm, leg—lost in a sea of metal. He takes a few gasping breaths for air, wheezing and coughing. His last breath slips past his bloody lips.