This suit is young; no way he’s over thirty. Military haircut, nice body, black jacket. I’ve seen him before, but I can’t remember his name.
He pulls out the seat across from me. “Sorry about the mess. Will you bring her another cup? I’ll take coffee, black.”
The waitress throws me a look. I think she’d kick his ass if I wanted her to.
“It’s fine,” I mumble, and sit back down.
The suit calls out to her as she makes her way back to the bar. “Bring us an order of beignets, too.”
I wait until she disappears into the kitchen before I ask, “Are we moving again?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
“How did you know I was here?”
“You left school. We’re one of your contacts. Apparently, your mom was unable to be reached.”
I’m sure she was. I hide my hands under the table so he can’t see them shake.
“But how did you know I was here?” There is something familiar about him, but I can’t figure it out.
“Lucky guess. You don’t have a car, so I figured you’d be on foot. Started looking through the windows once I hit Front Street.”
I’m not sure if I buy that answer. The waitress comes back with the order, and he pushes a beignet in front of me.
“Am I in trouble at school?” I ask.
The suit stirs his coffee slowly. “No, I covered for you. Told them you had a doctor’s appointment, and I forgot to call the school to let them know.”
“Am I in trouble with you guys?” I pinch off a piece of beignet and pop it in my mouth. My fingers are dusted with powdered sugar, and the sweet fried pastry is delicious.
The suit lets out a quick laugh. “No. No more ditching, though. I may not be on duty next time.”
The second I saw him, I thought we were gone. While it wouldn’t hurt my feelings to never see Emma and the minions again, I’m sick of starting over. And as much as I hate to admit it, I’m not ready to leave Ethan behind.
I’ve never had one of the suits be so nice to me before. They’re usually very distant and say the least amount possible. Maybe I can get him to talk.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t remember your name.”
“Agent Thomas.”
“Oh, it’s you. We talked on the phone.”
He nods and sips his coffee.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, but I might not be able to answer it.”
I take a minute, hoping to phrase it just right. “Why won’t anyone talk to me about what happened? It’s not fair that Teeny and I have to suffer through this without knowing why.”
I sound like a whiny baby, but I can’t help it. Maybe this is why most of the suits treat me like I’m seven, not seventeen.
“Well, from what I understand, your parents are trying to protect you. I haven’t been with the agency long, but I do know you don’t get offered protection unless the situation is dire. Your parents are coping the best way they know how, and I’m sure when the time is right, they’ll answer all your questions.”
“I guess it gets old having to move people around all the time. Making them start over, again and again.”
He laughs and says, “Only when I have to chase down kids who skip school.”
I lean forward, elbows on the table, chin propped up in my hand. “So, there’s no way to talk you into telling me what’s going on. Or why we have to move every month or so? Can you tell me that?”
“I wish I could, Meg, but I can’t.”
I’m frustrated now and I hope it shows. “Okay, what would happen if I decide to go home? Tell my parents to screw off, take Mary, and go live with one of my old friends?”
Agent Thomas comes close and whispers, “I would not recommend that. You may not understand who or what you are being protected from, but I promise you, it’s nothing you want to deal with on your own.”
“I just want some answers.”
“I’m sure if you think hard enough, you can figure some of it out.”
Thanks for the cryptic answer. Agent Thomas puts some money on the table for the bill. “Let me give you a ride home. School’s almost out and you have work soon.”
It totally creeps me out when the suits do this. They seem to know every little thing that goes on, yet we never see them. I wonder if he’s the one that got Mom booze in the safe house.
“I’ll walk. I have some time.” I get up and grab my go-bag.
Before I can leave, Agent Thomas puts his hand on my bag. “I know it’s tempting.” He nods toward the computers. “But don’t do it. You have no idea who is watching.”
I jerk my bag out of his hand and storm out of the coffee shop.
RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
Don’t fall into a routine. Shake things up. Doing the same thing over and over makes you feel comfortable. And feeling comfortable is bad.
WEDNESDAYS at the restaurant are busy. Pearl says it’s all those Bible-beaters eating early before church. I haven’t stopped moving since I walked in at four, but I can’t get Agent Thomas off my mind. When I got home from the coffee shop, I searched through my bag for some sort of tracker or bug or something. I hadn’t been in that coffeehouse long, and it’s freaking me out how fast he found me.
Ethan had the nerve to show up around six. His boots and jeans were covered in mud again, so I figured he’d been at the farm. He and Teeny have been in the kitchen ever since. Every time I hear them laugh, it pisses me off. He can’t accuse me of being a liar and then waltz in here and win my little sister over. He’s probably back there pumping her for more info. I’ve worked for months to make her happy, but two days making pizzas with him and she’s back to her old self. So not fair.
Catherine and another girl from my homeroom come in to Pearl’s a little after Ethan. She seems surprised to see me behind the counter.
“Hey, Meg! How long have you been working here?”
“Not long. What can I get you?”
They order a seafood pizza and two drinks. Gross. The other girl, I think her name is Julie, heads to a booth, but Catherine lingers at the counter.
“So, how do you like Natchitoches so far?” she asks.
“It’s fine. The people here are really nice,” I answer.
“It’s good to get new people around here. Livens things up.”
Yeah, my family could certainly do that.
“Julie and I are heading down to Fat’s after we eat. It’s an old bar near the marina on Cane River, and they have some pretty cool bands come through there. If you want to go with us, we can wait until you get off,” Catherine says.
This is so unexpected. And friendly.
“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to get home. I have a ton of homework.”
“Okay, that’s cool. Maybe we’ll see you this weekend.” She joins Julie at the table, and I try to keep busy and not think about how much fun it would be to hang out at some old bar down by the river.
Shortly after Catherine and Julie leave, Dad pulls into the parking lot, and I run outside to catch him before he comes in. I need to talk to him, and I’d rather not do that inside the restaurant.
“Hey. Teeny busy making pizzas again?”
“Yeah. Dad, we need to talk. Have you been home yet?” I grind my teeth, stopping myself from totally bawling him out on the sidewalk.
His whole body stiffens. “Not yet.”
“Mom’s bad. Every day this week, Dad.” I pace around in small circles.
His fists are clenched by his side. “You think I don’t know that?”
“She’s gonna kill herself before long. Is that what you want?” My voice is too loud, and customers inside Pearl’s are staring at us through the window, but I’m too pissed to stop.
Dad lets out a muffled curse and hits the car roof. “Of course that’s not what I want. All I ever wanted was for this family to be safe and happy.” He kicks a stone off the sidewalk.
I let out a snort of disgust. “Well, we don’t seem very safe, and we sure as hell aren’t happy.” I turn to get Teeny, but stop when I get to the door. “Please tell me what you did. It’s making me crazy. Maybe if I understood it—all of this would make a little more sense.” And I could figure out how to get out of this.
His face turns several shades of red, then moves into the purple tones. Maybe if he strokes out, that’ll take care of everything. I feel guilty the second the thought runs through my head.
“Leave Teeny here. I’ll bring her home with me. Go take care of Mom,” I say.
I walk back into Pearl’s and run straight to the bathroom. There are two stalls, so I go into the oversized one and sit on the floor, pressing my fingers to my eyes.
The door opens, but I stay on the floor, silent. Two small legs appear in front of me.
“Pearl told me to check on you. Are you okay?” Teeny’s little head pops into view from under the stall door.
I rub my eyes to make sure no water leaked out. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
When I open the door, Teeny looks worried. I pull her into a hug. “It’s all good.”
She hugs me back, hard. “I saw Dad leave. Does that mean I get to stay?”
“Yeah. Just tonight, though.”
Teeny looks up and smiles. “I’ll go tell Pearl and Ethan.” She sprints from the bathroom.
I walk to the sink and splash some cold water on my face. A pale-faced, dark-haired girl stares back at me from the mirror, and I wonder if the old me is in there at all anymore.
When I push through the door to leave the bathroom, I nearly run into Ethan.
“Everything okay?” His hand is on my arm. Whenever we’re close now, he seems to find a reason to touch me. The rough texture on his palm sends tingly little shivers across my skin.
My mind goes blank and we stand there, staring at each other. And then I remember I’m pissed at him.
I step back. “Yeah, fine. Mary’s staying.”
“She ran back there to tell us.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “I shouldn’t have said that in the courtyard. You’re right. If you say you’re from Lewisville, well then, you’re from Lewisville.”
“I don’t know why you find it so hard to believe I’m from Arkansas.”
He leans against the wall, and the dimple makes an appearance. “It’s the way you look at things around here. It’s all new to you. And the way you said ‘hick’ that first day, like you wouldn’t be caught dead near one. I mean, you’re from Arkansas, right? Place is full of them.”
He chuckles and I can’t help but smile.
He steps in a bit closer. “And you sound different.”
Good Lord, he’s observant. And determined to invade my personal space. “My grandparents are from up north, and I spent a lot of time with them when I was little.” I’m going off script here, but I’ve got to satisfy his curiosity. “Mom told me I never really found my place to fit in.”
“You weren’t in health class today.”
The doctor’s appointment answer is on the tip of my tongue when I realize this is my chance to see just how much the suits are watching. “Well, you pissed me off and I didn’t want to see you. Why does everyone get to leave for lunch, but I get busted skipping Health?”
Ethan laughs and says, “Should have told me you wanted to cut. Lunch is easy; no one’s looking for you. Knighton’s a different story. He comes off pretty chill, but he’s a tight-ass over attendance. Probably called it in when you weren’t there.”
Okay, maybe Agent Thomas’s answer makes more sense now. “I was mad—I couldn’t come ask you the best way to skip class.”
“Was mad? Does this mean I’m off your shit list?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
“Knighton and Thurman are the only ones who care. You’re safe cutting out on anybody else. Or you can always tell them you’re sick, and they’ll send you to the office. Duck out instead.”
We stand there with nothing else to say, and it’s awkward. It’s hard to hold eye contact with him, especially since he’s so close. “Well, I guess I better get back to the counter.”
Ethan smiles, and I swear he knows he’s getting to me. The next few customers whiz in and out, and finally business dies down. I peek into the kitchen, and Teeny is having the time of her life.
Maybe it was a bad move getting a job here. When we leave this placement, all the progress Teeny’s made will be for nothing. But I need the money, and the little bit in tips I’ve gotten this week is really nice.
While I clean, my conversation with Agent Thomas rolls through my head over and over.
I’m sure if you think hard enough, you can figure some of it out.
As much as I hate to relive those last few months and weeks, I take Agent Thomas’s suggestion. I think back six weeks before we moved, and there’s not a single thing that wasn’t normal.
Dad worked all the time. Check.
Mom skipped around from one charity committee to another. Check.
I go back months…nothing. My life was pretty damn perfect, at least until I found out my friends were frauds. My stomach flips, just like it does every time I try to think about that night. Everything in me wants to push this memory away, bury it where it can’t hurt me, but I think about Agent Thomas and what he said, and I can’t hide from that night anymore.
I close my eyes and I can see us—Laura, Elle, and me lounging poolside. We were at my house, painting our nails, discussing clothing options, and making plans for the night. Teeny had a friend over, and they were driving us nuts. They did cannonballs right next to us and soaked all our magazines. Elle screamed, “Teeny, quit being a pain in the ass,” which is what she said to Teeny on a daily basis. And then Teeny turned around and shook her butt at her before doing another cannonball.
I open my eyes and glance toward the kitchen, watching Teeny with Pearl and Ethan. She’s better now, but still miles away from who she used to be.
Moving to the tables in the front of the dining room, I struggle to bring the images back to my mind. Flash-forward a few hours, and I’m in Elle’s house, headed up the stairs. Sophie, Elle’s toy poodle, was snoozing outside her room, and I bent down to scratch her belly, just the way she liked it. And that’s when I heard my name and the high-pitched laugh Laura reserved for when she was being flirty.
I push the memory away, scared to hear the words I know will slice me down the middle. Dropping down in the booth, I physically brace myself as I replay the conversation I’ve been avoiding for months.
“Brandon, I don’t get why you have to go to those lame dinner parties. Just tell your dad you have other plans.”
I peeked into the room. Laura was on the bed, phone to her ear, while Elle was leaning into the mirror over her dresser, applying mascara.
Brandon? Lame dinner party? My mom had another dinner party planned for the next night for Dad’s boss, and I knew that’s what Laura was talking about.
Laura laughed again, and the sound grated on my nerves. “Brandon, you’re terrible. She’s liked you since freshman year. Just tell her you don’t like her and put her out of her misery.” And then Elle turned from the mirror and said, “Tell him to be nice about it. Don’t hurt her feelings.”
Laura laughed again (God, how annoying) and said, “Maybe we can hook up later. She’ll be with us, but I’ll get Elle to distract her so I can slip away. I can meet you at your house.”
I can remember the fiery hands of rage creeping up my neck. And then the suffocating pain of my best friends’ betrayal. I did have a huge crush on Brandon, and had since freshman year, and they both knew it and now so did Brandon. And Laura, sweet, nice, people-pleasing Laura, was hooking up with him behind my back. And Elle was covering for her. Those bitches.
I ran out of Elle’s house. There was no way I was going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me so upset.
And then things get fuzzy. I remember seeing some girls from my school that I knew, but no
t well, and them telling me about a party at some sophomore’s house. Did I want to go? Hell, yeah! I got in the car with them, and that’s when the drinking started.
I sit in the booth at Pearl’s and try like hell to remember the rest of the evening. There were lots of people, and the music was loud, but that was exactly what I wanted. I remember drinking a lot. And dancing. And kissing some random boy—I can’t even picture his face.
By the time I made it home, cop cars had filled the driveway and the suits had made themselves at home. And that was the day I had my first ride in that van with no windows. It was like being on some sick amusement-park ride—feeling the speed and every bump in the road but no way to place where you were. It was the most claustrophobic I’ve ever felt.
That night was a disaster, but not for any reason that has to do with us being in Witness Protection. Agent Thomas was wrong—the only thing I got out of reliving that night was a depressing reminder of how completely my life has fallen apart.
“You about finished in here?” Pearl’s turning off the lights in the kitchen, and Ethan and Teeny are getting their jackets on. I’m still in the booth in the front dining room.
“Yes. Just about done.”
I gather my things from behind the counter, pull on the ugly gray hoodie, and look at Ethan. “Good night, Pearl. Ethan.” I drag Teeny outside.
Both Ethan and Pearl get to the door at the same time.
“Good gracious, girlie, y’all can’t walk home. It’s almost freezing out there. I’ll drive you,” Pearl says.
“I’ll take them, Aunt Pearl. My truck’s right out front,” Ethan says.
Teeny is almost clapping her hands together, she’s so excited. Ethan holds his fist out, and she bumps it with hers. “I can’t let my new friend walk home in the cold.”
Teeny beams when she asks, “Can I sit in the front?”
I can worry and think about The Plan all day long, but I’ve already let Ethan slip into our lives. If for nothing other than seeing Teeny so happy tonight, it’s worth the risk. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
Ethan and Teeny laugh and joke during the short ride home. I contribute nothing.
The Rules for Disappearing Page 8
