She said that he had mentioned earlier that evening that he would be stopping by my house, and he hadn’t been seen since.
“Um, he was here around nine,” I said groggily, then added that he had left after only a short stay.
“Try Portia Norton,” I suggested, trying to be tactful, since she sounded so worried. I added quickly, “Ethan told me he was going to be taking her to the school dance.”
His mom sounded confused by that, being quite certain that he had told her he was going to take me to the dance.
I squeezed my eyes shut, negotiating in my tired brain what to say, then explained to her that Portia had asked him to the dance after he had asked me, and that we decided it would be best if he went with her instead.
Ethan’s mom still sounded a bit confused, but she thanked me for the information, and apologized again for calling so late.
I went back to sleep without giving it too much worry. After all, Ethan was a big boy, and I was a very tired girl.
And Ethan sucked.
So … you know, I didn’t care if he was caught in a sewage disaster.
In fact, I hoped he was.
The more poop, the better.
CHAPTER 29
The day after Ethan’s disappearance was weird. I heard they found him the next morning, in the school gym tied to a chair. He’d been beaten up, and there was a note dangling across his chest. The note was huge—on poster-board. It said: “I pick on girls—come pick on me!”
I mentioned he was beaten up, right?
He also had a blindfold over him, and when he was questioned, he told the school officials and the police (!!!) that he had absolutely no idea who beat him up or why.
Well, I didn’t know the who either, but I knew the why. Well … I was pretty sure I did. Unless he went around picking on a lot of girls—but that was unlikely. Things like that got around our school, fast.
Hearing the story of Ethan made me shake.
And feel sick.
It seemed I had a stalker. A real one. And apparently it wasn’t Creeper Ethan after all. Apparently. I mean, the dude got tied up … so he wasn’t the one spying on me.
I looked across the crowded school hallway and noticed three sets of eyes on me—no, wait—four. Four sets of eyes on me. All of them were coming from different directions, standing with different sets of people—the stoners (Kenny); the football players (Drew); the hockey team (Rider); and then there was Wade. Wade from Laurie’s party.
I shut my locker, then looked around again. Drew had his head against his locker, watching me intently though his football friends were trying to get his attention. His brow rose as I just stood there, watching him.
He started to come toward me, but I quickly shook my head. He stopped in his tracks, wincing a little. Instantly, he thumped his forehead lightly against his locker, like I was driving him crazy.
I swallowed, feeling conflicted—as always when it comes to Drew. But it couldn’t have been him that wrote the note … right? I mean, I’d been with him that night. The note had been about him (naughty, naughty).
I leaned against my locker, then dared to peek at Rider. Of course he caught all that—Drew staring at me, then banging his head against his locker.
With a smirk, Rider quickly texted me, “Who exactly is the heartbreaker?”
I sighed. Okay, it was highly doubtful Rider wrote the note. Like I said, he doesn’t bother to write girls notes or break into their rooms. He’s too busy breaking their hearts. Like right now. He has two cheerleaders flirting with him. And he’s flirting right back. I mean, his eyes keep going to me—but he’s still smiling and flirting with them. He’s able to multi-task. Break a bunch of girl’s hearts all at once.
I notice Daisy (Waitress Chick) watching her fellow cheerleaders flirt with Rider from across the hallway. She doesn’t seem pleased. In fact, she has a little frown. But she doesn’t go near Rider—not even close. Apparently his grand-gesture didn’t go so well, ‘cause when Rider’s eyes distractedly land on her, she flips him off again.
Ha!
I look away from that train-wreck and then I’m hit with another one—Laurie.
“Did you hear what happened to Ethan?” she asks all flabbergasted. Then without waiting for my answer she gushes on, “Isn’t it creepy? What girl do you think the sign was about? What girl did he ‘pick on’? Jeez, maybe it’s better you didn’t go out with him.”
I roll my eyes. “You think?”
Suddenly she clutches my arm all breathless-like. “Drew keeps looking over here,” she says excitedly. “He looks all heartbroken and tortured.”
She sounds delighted about it.
“I bet we’re back together within a week.” She smiles as she gushes on, “I’ve heard that at least three different cheerleaders have asked him to the dance—he’s turned them all down. Everyone says he seems tortured and miserable.”
Again, she sounds excited.
I’m excited that the bell rings.
“’Bye,” she says like the world is full of rainbows and lollipops, then she skips off to her math class.
Meanwhile, Drew looks miserable.
CHAPTER 30
Did I mention that guy from Laurie’s birthday party, Wade? Ever since the night of the party he’s been texting me. A LOT. Like enough to keep him on my radar of possible suspects that left me the creepy note on my bedroom mirror. So, when he stopped me in the school hallway after third period and invited me to the dance, I froze. Then squirmed.
“Um, I already have a date.”
I blurted out the lie so fast I was confused. I mean, I hadn’t been planning to lie. It just spewed out of my mouth.
The thing is (and this is weird, I know), but I suddenly noticed that he is in super good, awesome shape, and tall. Not bad things, right? Not at all. Normally. But I suddenly had visions of him being the guy that beat up Ethan.
The crazy thought had me backing away from him, shaking.
And ready to bolt.
And lying about a date.
“Oh, okay,” Wade seemed disappointed. And hurt. “I just thought we had hit it off at the party—but then, you’ve been blowing me off ever since that night. I guess I should have figured it out—you were just using me at the party, right?”
“No!” I didn’t know if I should feel sorry for him, or be afraid of him, so I was just honest with him. “I had fun that night with you. A lot of fun, but I’ve had a lot on my mind. Tons.”
That was the truth. So not a lie. Still, the next thing out of my mouth was: “But yeah, I’ve already got a date to the dance. Sorry.”
I thought about blurting out that he should ask my friend Kim. At the party she had kept saying he was cute. All night. But the fear of him being a creepy stalker stopped me from blurting out the suggestion. I wished no creepy stalker on anyone. But especially not poor little Kim.
“’Bye Wade,” I said, then ran from him.
CHAPTER 31
After school Laurie invited me to go shopping with her. “I need a new dress!” she exclaimed excitedly. Well, tried to sound excited.
She continued to attempt sounding excited as she told me this cute guy from the soccer team, Spencer, asked her to Friday’s dance.
“So I need a new dress,” she said. “Come on—I need to be cheered up.”
I was all for that. “Okay.”
The whole time we shopped Laurie talked about Spencer and the dance. So, I was cautiously hopeful. Maybe she was going to bounce back easier than I’d thought—though I knew a lot of her excitement was fake. Still, some of it could be real, right? (Fingers crossed.)
Finally she found the perfect dress. It was gorgeous on her. “It will make every guy at the dance drool,” Laurie cooed with delight when she had it on.
She was right, it would. It was perfect.
Unfortunately, once we accomplished that (exciting) task—finding the perfect dress—then she had me trapped in her car as she drove around looking for Drew’s car. W
e checked his house, and some of his friend’s houses, and anywhere else she could think of where she might spot it.
We ended up finding his car parked at Slugger’s, a fifty’s type hamburger joint where a lot of people from school hang out. (Yes, the place I went last night with Rider.)
Laurie wanted to go inside.
“What if he’s with a girl?” I asked, uncomfortable with the idea.
“What if he is?” Laurie said defiantly. “We’re only going in to get something to eat.”
Hesitantly I followed her inside, knowing this was going to be bad, but Laurie was determined, so I reluctantly supported her … to the train wreck.
“Hey!” Drew greeted us as we entered the building. He was sitting at a booth with some of his friends from the football team and a couple of girls. It didn’t look as if they were paired off. It looked more like they were all just hanging out together.
We grabbed a table far back, and kitty-corner to them, so Laurie could kind of casually look at the back of Drew’s head every once in awhile.
“He keeps looking over here,” Laurie smiled.
I couldn’t see him because my back was to the table.
Laurie grunted. “That awful cheerleader Bianca keeps looking back here too. She looks so smug. I hate her. She was always flirting with him—even when we were together. The skank.”
We both ordered a hamburger and milkshakes, and we split an order of fries, even though fries came with our burgers. (These were break-up fries. Necessary.)
While Drew’s friends got ready to leave, he came over to our table.
“Hi,” he said taking a seat beside Laurie. “What are you two up to?”
“We’re eating,” Laurie explained, kind of snippily, yet I could tell she was thrilled that he came over.
“Huh. Well, we’re going to a party over on Franklin,” Drew said, stealing a fry. “Maybe after you two are done eating you’d like to come over.”
He added to me specifically, “Nick’s band is playing there.”
“Is he really?” My brother sure was in demand these days. “Whose party is it?”
“I don’t even know,” Drew shrugged with a smile. His eyes looked hopeful, “Are you going to come?”
“We might,” Laurie broke in.
“Do you know where Franklin Street is?” he asked.
“I think so,” Laurie answered, looking kind of doubtful.
He gave her directions, though she has GPS, then he apparently could find no other reason to linger.
“So you’ll be there?” he asked as he got up from our table.
“Maybe,” Laurie murmured sounding indefinite, but I knew that she wanted to go. With all of her lovelorn heart. It was her pride that kept her from racing to the car.
When Drew was out of earshot, she turned to me excitedly. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” I said trying to be objective. “Maybe you shouldn’t be at his beck and call like that.”
It was hard to give her any kind of advice these days for fear of being self-serving. Still, if a guy breaks up with a girl it doesn’t seem like a good idea for her to be too convenient for him. That seemed like a bad idea.
“Oh, I don’t mean about the party,” she said. “I’m not going to go to that. I want to be kind of hard to get, if he’s trying to get me back.” She raised her brow hopefully, “Do you think he is?”
“Trying to get you back?”
She nodded.
I bit my lip, sadly doubting it.
I tried to be diplomatic. “I really have no idea.”
‘Cause well, you never know, right? Boys say one thing, but act quite another. Like Rider—what was going on with him? Chasing after Daisy, yet being so sweet to me, and always staring at me, and … Ugh! Stop thinking about him. He’s obviously a player. Duh.
“Well, he just invited me to that party,” Laurie pointed out, without giving any thought to the fact that he had invited me as well. “Why would he want his ex-girlfriend at a pick-up party? And I swear he was looking back here the entire time he was eating.”
That information made me inhale sharply. Again. “Laurie, I don’t know—just don’t get your hopes up,” I advised gently, kind of concerned.
I knew how it looked to her, and it was very understandable. Very. But, of course, I was thinking she was wrong—that maybe he was looking at me. But for all I knew, we were both wrong. Maybe we were both deluding ourselves and right this minute he was making out with Bianca.
“What about Spencer?” I asked to change the subject. “He’s really cute and popular. And he’ll love you in that dress. He’ll die and go to heaven when he sees you in it.”
She sighed, sounding miserable. “I don’t really like Spencer. I just want Drew back. But to tell you the truth, I don’t think I can get him back this time. He wasn’t mad at me or anything when he broke up with me. In fact, he was really nice and sympathetic. You know it’s really the end when the guy’s sympathetic.”
The rest of the night she would flop from trying to get excited about her date with Spencer, to moping about being dumped by Drew.
I was beyond sympathetic, of course. But still, I felt uncomfortable whenever she would ask me for advice. I was so tempted to tell her what happened with Drew, but I honestly couldn’t see any good it would do. Well, besides easing my conscience. But I knew she would be insulted that Drew could like me, Brooke nobody, better than her. She wouldn’t be able to fathom how such a thing could possibly happen. I knew she’d be all sorts of bewildered and hurt and would hate me for it, and hate herself for it even more—dumped for her dumpy friend. No, she couldn’t handle that.
By the end of the night, I had pretty much decided Laurie wasn’t the one that wrote me the creepy note (another girl’s boyfriend—naughty, naughty).
Of course realizing that couldn’t really give me that much relief because it meant there was some other crazy out there, and I didn’t have a clue who it was. But it was definitely a boy—right? I mean, the person beat up Ethan.
That knowledge didn’t make me feel any better.
In fact, I had chills.
CHAPTER 32
When I got home, the house was empty. Nick was at the party on Franklin, of course.
On the kitchen table I find a note from my mom. She left early for California to be with my dad as he got tickets to some sports game she’s been dying to see.
Awesome. I’m alone.
I grab a soda from the fridge, then go upstairs—leaving on all the lights. (Hey, I don’t pay the electric bill.) (And I’m spooked.)
In my room, I try to sketch Drew. Just for something to do. Yes, I know I’m demented, but really it’s to help keep my mind off heartbreaker Rider … and off the fact there is a creeper lurking about, spying on me.
However, while I’m dementedly sketching, I get a text from a blocked number.
Reading the message, a chill shoots through me. “Are you in the house alone?”
The words send shivers down my spine.
I stare at the message, unable to breathe.
Sucking in my breath, I shakily text back, “Who is this?”
“Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying not to be scared. The person’s answer is sort of teasing … right? Someone is playing a joke with me. I put down my phone, telling myself I’m not going to play their game. I’m not going to be scared.
Well, that’s what I try telling myself.
But what if the text is from Creepy Kenny?
—only it can’t be, right? He’s at the party with Nick. Their band is playing. They are way over on Franklin Street.
I try to go back to my sketching of Drew, but my hands are shaking too bad. I’m about to give up (duh) and speedily drive over to Laurie’s, but as I’m preparing to do that—move and everything—I get another text. My heart stops. It’s the same message: “Are you in the house alone?”
Like lightning, I run
out my bedroom door, planning to run to my neighbor’s house and bang on their door. But I barely make it out of my bedroom before a hand wraps around my waist and I’m whisked back into my room.
Before I know what’s happening, a blindfold is pulled over my eyes, then my hands are tied loosely at my wrists.
A husky voice whispers in my ear, “I’m not going to hurt you, Brooke.”
The voice is almost reassuring—almost. Only MY HANDS ARE BEING TIED!!!
And I’ve been blindfolded!!
So, yeah. I’m not reassured.
I’m so frightened I feel like I’m going to pass out.
A rough warm hand tenderly brushes my shivering arms, sooo gentle. The voice whispers, “I swear, Brooke, I’m not going to hurt you.”
“W-what d-do you want?” I frantically stammer out.
“This—” Suddenly, a warm mouth presses against mine.
At first I fight it—fight the tender kiss. Try with all my heart to pull away. But the kissing goes on, getting a little deeper, more intense.
Still, even so, I start to relax a little, since the voice keeps telling me to.
In between the seductive kissing, “Relax Brooke,” keeps being murmured huskily in my ear, and the rough, gentle hands keep tenderly stroking my arms, pulling me closer and closer as the person deepens the hot, hungry kiss, sending waves of tremors crashing through my trembling body, and making me so weak in the knees that he has to hold me up. But he tenderly does it—holds me—his hot, hungry mouth not leaving mine for a second. And I can’t help it. I can’t fight it, but I do sort of believe him—almost. That he’s not going to hurt me … or he would have already.
The hot, passion-filled kiss goes on and on, his talented velvet tongue exploring my mouth like he’ll never get enough of it.
Slowly, hungrily he trails seductive kisses up the curve of my neck. “I’m going to let you go now,” he murmurs, his hot mouth not leaving my tantalized skin as he murmurs it.
“But remember my kiss, Brooke. Remember how much you liked it.”
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