The Lost Girls

by Sonia Hartl

  “Who’s Parker Kerr?” I asked.

  “His new lady love.” Ida batted her lashes.

  It hadn’t even been three months since he ditched me in Tulsa, and he already had a new girl he wanted to turn. Of course that’s why we’d all been brought back to Michigan, but I thought he’d wait until the end of the school year at least. I dug deep within myself to find some reason, any reason, why I’d want to spare the life of the guy I’d given away my mortality for, only to come up empty. And that was the saddest feeling of all.

  “I’m sorry it’s come down to this,” I said.

  “I’m not.” Ida shrugged. “We’d be headed that way sooner rather than later. He’s got Gwen and Frankie with him.”

  “That’s not a surprise.” Gwen was vicious. She must’ve killed her maker too, though it had never occurred to me to ask. She didn’t talk about her past, either. I only knew she’d been with Elton since she turned Frankie sometime in the early ’70s. “Does it matter?”

  “It’s just an extra layer of protection for him. They’re strong.” Ida tapped her chin. “Rose doesn’t want me to say anything until we got a firm yes from you, but I think you deserve to go into this with eyes wide open. She thinks we’ll have to give up something important to get this done. She doesn’t know what yet, but Rose’s instincts are usually correct.”

  “I don’t have anything important.”

  Ida tilted her head in consideration, but before she could say anything, Rose opened her door and dabbed her bloody lips with a dainty little handkerchief. “I’m set to go, if you are.”

  “What did you do with the body?” Ida asked. “I’m not cleaning another bloated mess.”

  Rose waved her off. “I took him down the fire escape and finished him in the alley. You really need to get over that one time; it’s been six years. And why isn’t Holly dressed yet?”

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Glen River West High School.” Ida took my arm. “Rose will help you put on something pretty, though her dresses might be too short. We introduced ourselves to Parker yesterday, and we think you need to meet her as well.”

  Ugh. The living. No, thanks. “Is that necessary?”

  “We think it’ll help you understand what’s at stake here,” Ida said.

  “You’ll need to blend in.” Rose rubbed her chin with her thumb and index finger. “We’ll have to do something about your hair.”

  Self-consciously, I pulled it to the side and twisted it hard enough to disguise the crimping. “I don’t like talking about my hair.”

  Rose took me into her room, which was now guy-less. She thrust a plain black dress with capped sleeves into my arms. It smelled like line-dried linen, the scent coming more from Rose than the fabric, and it had a swinging A-line skirt. It ended up being a little on the short side, but Rose assured me that was probably for the best. After she ruthlessly tamed my hair into a fishtail braid that hung over my shoulder, she declared me high-school passible, and we all headed down to the bus stop.

  The bus driver shuddered as Rose dropped her coins into the toll. She looked at him and dipped her head, gazing up through her lashes. He fumbled with the change ticket that would get us home again and licked his lips when he gave it to her. She touched his hand as she took the passes, and he recoiled.

  Morning commuters huddled together, holding their collective breaths as we passed, exhaling when we didn’t sit near them. Yet they still leaned forward in their seats, as if they didn’t know how to keep their eyes off of us. And this was why vampires preferred to stay indoors during the day. It wasn’t just our pale skin or unearthly stillness that got their attention. The living were attracted to death in ways that horrified them, and we were walking death personified. We threw off their equilibriums.

  An old lady with deep wrinkles and five bags of yarn looked Ida up and down. Her lip peeled back, revealing five teeth and black gums. “Shouldn’t you girls be in school?”

  Ida sneered. “Shouldn’t you be rotting in a box, six feet under?”

  “Please don’t.” Rose laid a hand on Ida’s arm. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “You’re right.” Ida stared out the window. “I hate the bus.”

  Half an hour and four stops later, we pulled up across the street from Glen River West High. Nostalgia tugged on me as I viewed the woods where Stacey and I had split our first and last cigarette. The bleachers where I’d let Bobby Becker touch my boobs, also for the first and last time. The school I’d attended for three years while I’d been living. Where I’d first met Elton. The girl I used to be rose up and smacked me in the face with such force, I bent forward, putting my head between my knees. Times long gone and forgotten squeezed at my chest.

  How could Elton bring me back here? How could he do this to any of us?

  The old oak tree behind the football field still touched the skyline. I wondered if Parker spent time sitting beneath that tree. Dreaming of the people she’d meet when she graduated, making plans for all the places she wanted to see, the career where she’d make her mark. Or if she was already so enthralled by Elton, all she could see anymore was him.

  Rose rubbed my back until I got my breathing under control, murmuring encouraging words. She’d been here too. She knew what it felt like. When I finally lifted my head, she linked her arm through mine. “Ready or not.”

  Ida linked arms with me on the other side. “Here we come.”

  Chapter Four

  I wrapped my hand around the front-door handle, my fingers tingling against the grooves in the metal like a half-remembered dream. “I can’t do this.”

  “You can.” Rose straightened my shoulders and pushed against my lower back, jutting my chest out. “Act like you belong here, and no one will question it.” She pulled open the other door and passed through with her head held high.

  Ida followed her inside, and I brought up the rear. The halls of Glen River West still smelled like Lysol and pencil shavings, but the metal detectors were new. I eyed them as a sickness rolled through my stomach. The same school, but in a lot of ways, not the same.

  Rose’s heels clicked against the cement floors. Ida dragged her nails along the lockers. They’d been mud brown in my day but had since been painted red, the color dry and faded. A whole generation had come and gone since I’d last been here. The remnants of whom we’d been lingered in the old brick walls and dusty trophy cases.

  Second period was still in session, but Ida and Rose had been doing recon all week and timed our arrival perfectly. The bell rang the moment we hit the senior hall. Even in the chaos of students rushing to their next classes, they gave us wide berth. As if the three of us were rocks in a rapid river, splitting the flow of the tide.

  This place fit wrong, like an itchy wool sweater a size too small. I scratched at my neck, rolling my shoulders to shake off a feeling that didn’t really exist.

  Ida leaned in closer to me and pointed to a pretty girl with shoulder-length auburn hair and a splash of freckles across her nose. “There’s Parker. Follow her to her next class.”

  “What are you going to be doing?” I asked.

  “Dealing with Frankie.” She jerked her chin toward a bulky guy I’d recognize anywhere. He had terrible bangs and dark hair that curled just past his collar, a popular style in the decade he’d been turned. His thick eyebrows hung low over his eyes. The nostrils of his wide, flat nose flared as he caught sight of Ida.

  I spun around before his slow gaze could move toward me. If Frankie roamed these halls, Elton couldn’t be far behind. I wasn’t ready to deal with Elton yet. I said I’d give killing him some thought, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him, talk to him, or think about him in a concrete sense.

  With my orders given, and no idea where else to go, I followed Parker to her next class. She wore a thin sweater with red, navy, and gray stripes, and I counted the colors down the curve of her spine. Four navy, four gray, five red.

  I’d gotten so caught up in the
ridiculous game to distract myself, I ran into her back when she stopped in front of a door. “I’m so sorry.”

  She turned her head, the side of her cheek resting against the contour of her shoulder peeking out from the wide neckline of her sweater. She responded with something I couldn’t hear because her smile, full and without reservation, had knocked me back a step. Bee-stung lips turned up at the corner gave her the look of being mid laugh. She had a straight row of teeth, minus a slight overlap on her bottom front tooth, and the imperfection made it all the more perfect. If we’d met in these same halls a generation earlier, I would’ve done everything in my power to sit at her lunch table. She had a certain kind of magnetism.

  It surprised me that Elton went for her. If she went missing, people would notice, the way they’d notice if the sun blinked out.

  He didn’t bother with the bright girls, the ones who had their own gravitational orbit. Far easier to turn the girls no one would miss.

  Girls like me.

  I shook off the morose feelings. I’d been missed by exactly two people, more than some ever got in a lifetime. Unfortunately, one would never forgive me for what that cost her, and the other would soon die with no memory of me at all. But once upon a time, over three decades ago, I’d been loved by two people. And I could hold the memory of that forever.

  Parker took a seat at the back of the class, near the row of windows. I assumed she’d be surrounded by friends within minutes, so I hung back, waiting to find a desk I could slip into without drawing attention to myself. Why Elton chose to go back to high school, of all places, was beyond me. Couldn’t he just as easily troll for girls at the mall or at Starbucks? I hadn’t enjoyed this phase of my life while it had been mandatory; I couldn’t be paid enough to relive it on a voluntary basis. And I said that as someone who worked at Taco Bell.

  The blackboard that used to be at the front of the class had been replaced by a whiteboard with dry-erase markers. The ancient teacher’s desk had probably been there since Rose had been a student. Someone had put some poppies along the windowsill in an attempt to spruce up the place, then forgot to water them, so they hung over their stems like they’d given up.

  A group of girls came in, chattering loudly and flipping their hair. If I had to guess, I’d say they were the rest of Parker’s crew. They paused their conversation as they passed, unconsciously trying not to get too close to me, the sparkle in their eyes fading until they’d gotten a few feet of distance between us. Parker sat up a little straighter, then slumped when the larger group of girls took the group of desks on the opposite side of the class.

  Interesting.

  I slid into the desk next to Parker’s. She’d been staring out the window with her chin resting on her hand, and she startled when the metal legs of my chair scraped along the floor. “Is anyone sitting here?” I asked.

  She blinked once, her long lashes fanning her cheek for the briefest of moments. She glanced at the group of girls on the other side of the room. “No. No one sits there.”

  Her simple statement, more honest and vulnerable than I knew what to do with, tapped on that jaded, empty place in my heart. After living with Elton for so long, I’d forgotten what sincerity looked like. “I guess I sit here now.”

  Her lips turned up, revealing that brilliant smile again. “Are you new here?”

  I resisted the urge to slouch down in my seat. “In a manner of speaking.”

  New enough. Though that itchy feeling on the back of my neck reminded me that I’d been here once before and had no place here now.

  Being back at this school, sitting in one of these classrooms, wasn’t something I could look back on fondly. All I had left were my “should’ve, could’ve, would’ve” feelings. The regrets I couldn’t let go because I still lived with them every day.

  “I’m new too.” There was a sigh on the end of her words, like she was tired of saying it but resigned to accepting it anyway. “Senior year might be the worst time to move, but leave it to my mom to not give a shit when she found a new boyfriend who really needed to start his auto repair shop on the other side of the state this year.” She sucked in a breath. Her eyes widening, like she realized she said all that out loud. “I’m sorry I just dumped all that on you before I even told you my name. I’m Parker, by the way.”

  “Holly Liddell.” I pointed at myself like a complete weirdo. “No need to apologize for the dumping. I know how it goes.” My mom had her share of boyfriend problems, but at least she never shipped me all over the globe. I got to stay right here and face the kids she had hurt in order to salve her own ego.

  “At least some people are nice here.” Parker trailed off in a wistful way. I had a feeling I knew just whom she was thinking of. An eternally beautiful boy who knew how to coax and charm the lonely girls no one else noticed.

  The teacher came into the room, snapping the door shut to get everyone’s attention. I froze as his eyes roamed the room. The only teacher who’d ever been immune to Elton’s charisma, Mr. Stockard. He’d been so young when he started, he quickly gained the rep of being the cool teacher. The one we could talk to about real stuff. Now, his black hair had gone a peppery gray, and his sad-puppy eyes drooped, exposing red rims. His once prominent nose was now spiderwebbed with capillary veins.

  He took roll, pausing after he called out “Parker Kerr,” and I held my breath. Did he remember? “I didn’t get a note about a new student. What’s your name?”

  “H-Harriet.” I cringed. That name was too old even for my day, but I’d been caught off guard. Who knew there would still be teachers around from thirty-four years ago? I was surprised Elton didn’t kill him on sight. Unless Mr. Stockard didn’t remember him, either. Though Elton would be hard to forget.

  Parker whipped her head in my direction but kept her lips pressed together.

  “Harriet.” Mr. Stockard drew the name out, crunching down on the “et” as if it were a displeasing bit of food that required swallowing. He narrowed his eyes. “This is British Lit. Are you sure you’re in the right class?”

  “Yep,” I squeaked. “This is where they told me to go.”

  “Hmm. Open to page fifty of 1984, stop when you get to page eighty.” He dropped a crossbody bag by his desk and turned toward the whiteboard. “Goddamn ghosts wandering these halls,” he muttered under his breath, but loud enough for the class to titter nervously.

  “Don’t mind him,” Parker whispered. “He’s kind of a dick.”

  “He is?” When had that happened?

  I glanced at Mr. Stockard, at the harsh florescent lights reflecting off his bald spot. The teacher I remembered would get so worked up about symbolism and theme, he’d jump on his desk and throw Jolly Ranchers at us in rapid fire if we kept the conversation flowing. He gave me my first copy of Sweet Valley High, never once putting down what others considered unimportant fluff. His classroom became a place to unburden the things that troubled us. In turn, he gave us books, made us readers, and opened the world. To this day, books were the only things that saved me from drowning.

  “I heard he was really cool, like he made literature fun,” I said.

  Parker snorted. “Either you misunderstood, or someone was messing with you because you’re new. This is called Sleep Period for a reason.”

  “Sleep …?” I looked around, and she wasn’t joking. People had their chins in hands, heads propped up by backpacks, and the guy two rows over already had an impressive puddle of drool forming on his desk. “I see what you mean.”

  Parker turned toward me, her soft brown eyes bouncing between mine, her full eyebrows scrunching slightly. “Holly is an unusual nickname for Harriet.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?” I asked.

  Parker nodded, leaning forward in her desk, a little on the eager side, like it had been too long since she’d had anyone who wanted to share secrets with her. It made my chest ache in a way it hadn’t for the living in a very long time. Once again, I couldn’t help but see

  sni
ppets of the girl I used to be. We didn’t wear our hair the same, or dress the same, and we probably didn’t want the same things out of life. But underneath all that, I recognized the hungry desperation for someone, anyone, to care. It unsettled me.

  I shifted in my seat. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

  “Come on.” She gave my arm a playful poke. “You can’t open with that and drop it.”

  Her smile was infectious. Like a light that only glowed for me. It was so easy to let myself believe I was a normal sixteen year old, and this was a normal class, and I was making friends with a girl who didn’t yet know she should fear me.

  I leaned toward her and lowered my voice so I wouldn’t draw attention. “My name isn’t Harriet, and I’m not supposed to be in this class.”

  “Ooh, are you, like, an undercover narc?”

  “What? No. I—” I broke off when I caught her lip twitching at the right corner. She was totally messing with me. “Very funny.”

  “If you’re not a narc, what are you doing here?”

  “I’m friends with Rose and Ida.”

  “Oh.” She frowned as she faced forward in her desk, her back straight. “I guess that explains why you were being so friendly. You want something from me.”

  “I don’t.” Ida had pushed me into this situation without any indication of how I was supposed to proceed, so I figured honesty was the best way. As honest as I could be, anyway. “I want to warn you.”

  “About Elton?” She let out a short laugh. “I didn’t realize he had so many stalkers.”

  “We’re not—” I pulled back, drew in a deep breath. I was going about this all wrong. Getting into our history with Elton wouldn’t win us any points with Parker. “This isn’t about us, this is about you. He’s dangerous.”

  “How so?” She pursed her lips, her expression more skeptical than mine the night Elton told me vampires were real.

  I didn’t know quite how to proceed. While I had no doubt Elton would reveal himself eventually, we didn’t necessarily go around waving a neon flag that screamed “vampire” to the living. That was an excellent way to either end up in a government lab or have people begging for immortality like lemmings off a cliff. People had no idea how hard it was to be sixteen every second of every day until the end of time.