The Rules for Disappearing

by Ashley Elston

  “Not for a while. I told him we’d be late.” Ethan and I have been inseparable since we got back. I don’t think he’ll ever know what it meant to me that he was there when I needed him, but I’m trying every day to show him.

  Catherine waves to us from across the room. “I think everyone’s ready to head to Will’s,” Ethan says.

  Time for the after-party.

  I step away, and he pulls me back quickly, kissing me on the small daisy tattoo that’s showing on my bare shoulder, before letting me go again.

  I giggle and walk toward the closet where they’re keeping our coats.

  The party at Will’s starts as a small group of us hanging out around his pool, but it isn’t long before his house is packed.

  I’m curled up next to Ethan on one of the loungers, sipping a beer. It’s chilly out, but that doesn’t stop Will from taking some stupid bet to jump into the pool and stay there for at least two minutes. He will apparently do anything for ten bucks.

  “Will’s such a dumb-ass,” Ethan says.

  “Yes. He is. Look at Catherine, she’s pissed.”

  “She’s pissed because she just wanted it to be a few couples here tonight.” I turn toward Ethan, moving in closer, and just before he can kiss me, the chair we’re in gets bumped and I almost fall off.

  Ethan sits up and looks around, but whoever knocked into us has moved on. “Damn, I’m with Catherine. There are way too many people here.” He looks at my beer and says, “I’ll grab us a couple more, then we’ll get the limo driver to take us for a ride. Get away from the crowd for a little while.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  Just as Ethan turns to leave, I tug on his pants and say, “I forgot to thank you for the flowers. They are beautiful.”

  He stops and looks at me funny. “Flowers? What flowers?”

  I sit up and stare at him. A creepy feeling washes over me, and I ask, “You didn’t send me a bouquet of daisies today?”

  He looks really confused. “No.”

  I let out a nervous laugh. “It must have been Dad. He knows how much I love them, too.”

  Ethan waits a few long seconds before he nods slowly and walks away. I don’t think he believes Dad sent the flowers. I don’t think Dad sent them either, but who else would do that?

  With him gone, I get cold. My coat is hanging off the back of the lounger, so I pull it over me and use it like a blanket. But there’s something inside—it feels square and hard. I dig around in the coat and realize it’s in the pocket, so I pull it out. It’s my journal, with a single daisy stuck between the pages. A sinking feeling comes over me, and I search for Ethan, but he’s across the patio, talking to Trey.

  I shove the journal back in the pocket and jump up from the chair. Oh, God… Oh, God… Oh, God. I race to the bathroom, but Ethan stops me before I make it there.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’ve got to go to the restroom. I’ll be right back.” And I pull away from him.

  Once I’m alone, I lock the door and slide down the wall to the floor, opening the journal to where the daisy is.

  And there, scribbled on the page, is a note for me.

  Dear Anna,

  I’m sure you have questions, and someday maybe I’ll answer them for you. I thought it was important for you to have this back. I hope the nightmares that haunted you are gone. Maybe one day we’ll meet again.

  P.S. Tell your friend the tracker was a clever move.

  Oh, shit. Maybe one day we’ll meet again. What in the hell does that mean? I rip the page out and tear it into pieces. Then do the same with the flower. How did this get in my coat pocket?

  Then I remember someone just knocked into our chair, right where my coat was draped over the back. I scramble from the floor and race back out to the pool, ignoring Ethan calling my name.

  I search the crowd, looking for Thomas, but he’s not here.

  Ethan comes up behind me and says, “Anna, you look scared. What’s wrong?”

  I turn and bury my head in his chest, squeezing him tight. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  He leans his head close to my ear and says, “I’m here if you need me.”

  I move my hands to his face and bring his lips to mine, kissing him softly. “I know. And that’s the only thing that makes everything okay.”

  He hugs me tight while I look behind him, scanning faces like I did a few seconds ago. And like I will do for the rest of my life.

  THERE were so many people who made this first book possible, so if you will indulge me…

  A HUMONGOUS thank you to:

  My agent, Sarah Davies, for pulling me out of the slush pile and making my dreams come true. I’m so thrilled to have found a home at Greenhouse Literary.

  Elizabeth Schonhorst, for the invaluable help on the early version of this manuscript.

  My amazing editor, Emily Meehan, for loving this story and making it better. From our first conversation, I knew Anna and Ethan would be in good hands. And to Laura Schreiber, for your tireless work and making this entire process delightful. Thank you both for being so good to me.

  Elizabeth Holcomb and Monica Mayper for their careful copyediting, along with the entire team at Disney-Hyperion, especially everyone in marketing and publicity, and all those behind the scenes who helped get this book into the hands of readers. Your support is so appreciated.

  The design team, especially Marci Senders and Theresa Evangelista, for the awesome cover. I adore it.

  Moriah McStay Lee, the Grammar Queen and my first critique partner, for always being honest even when I didn’t want to hear it. So happy I sat down next to you at the lunch table at that SCBWI conference, and so glad you were as clueless as I was.

  Elle Cosimano and Megan Miranda, critique partners and agency sisters, for answering panicked e-mails with mind-blowing insight, for dragging me through that haunted jail, and for being incredible friends. This last year would not have been the same without you.

  The wonderful online community of readers and writers. I would have never gotten past the query letter without you.

  The Lucky 13s, for your full support and safe haven.

  Kari Olson and Katharine Brauer, for donating critiques for charity and giving such wonderful advice. You are both quite incredible.

  My mom, Sally Ditta, for introducing me to the wonderful world of books when I was a little girl, especially the Nancy Drew series, and for telling me I could do anything I put my mind to. I love you very much. And to my step-dad, Joey Ditta, for always making me feel at home and for being such a good friend.

  My dad, Tony Bruscato, for showing me the world and talking about the law and your cases and all of the other things I once thought boring. Some of that stuff actually sank in.

  Uncle Charles and Aunt Bitsy, for always being there for me and making sure I had what I needed when I needed it. Especially the 1987 Nissan Pulsar. I loved that car.

  My in-laws, Richard and Lennis Elston, and my husband’s entire family, for welcoming me into your family with open arms and never letting go. And special thanks to Lennis, for your invaluable accounting knowledge and for not freaking out when I asked how to launder money.

  Bubba Salley, hog hunter extraordinaire, for answering my endless questions about hogs, hog dogs, and other really random things.

  My friends who listened endlessly about my road to publication and who were the most gracious first readers a girl could have: Christy Poole, Elizabeth Pippin, Jennifer Bond, Kylie Reeves, Missy Huckabay, Lisa Stewart, and Christa Drake, the original “Sissy.”

  My young friends who inspire me: Danlee, Carlie, Allie, Avery, Skylar, and Adeline. And to my New York traveling buddies: Mignon, Alexis, Julianna, and Rebecca, thank you for letting me crash your thirteenth birthday trip as the favorite aunt. And to my siblings, Jordan, Sidney, and Molly. I couldn’t write these acknowledgments and NOT mention ALL of you. Thank you for being so excited about this book.

  My family and friends from
whom I borrowed names for the characters in this book. And if you got stuck with the bad guy or mean girl, please don’t take it personally.

  And saving the best for last: Thank you to the most important people in my life—my husband, Dean, and our sons, Miller, Ross, and Archer Elston, for understanding when I was a bit crazy on a deadline and being okay with grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner when my head was lost in a Word document. Thank you for the overwhelming support. I could not have done this without you, nor would I have wanted to. And, boys, even if it was just for a minute, thanks for thinking I was cool.