My eyebrow shot up to mirror his. You denyin it?
Instead of answering, he laughed for real and propped one elbow on the door handle. Are you always this mean to guys who sing to you in dark alleys?
My next retort died on my lips, so surprised was I by the reminder. He had sung to me, and somehow talked me down from a brutal panic attack. Hed saved me from public humiliation. But there had to be a reason, and I wasnt that great of a conquest.
I dont trust you, I said finally, my hands limp and worthless on my lap.
Right now I dont trust you either. He grinned in the dark, flashing pale teeth and a single shadowed dimple, and his open-armed gesture took in the stopped car. Are you kicking me out, or do I get door-to-door service?
Thats the only service you get. But I shifted into Drive and faced the road again, then turned right into his subdivision, which was definitely more than a couple of minutes from my neighborhood. Would he really have walked if Id let him drive me home?
Would he have taken me straight home?
Take this left, then the next right. Its the one on the corner.
His directions led me to a small frame house in an older section of the development. I pulled into the driveway behind a dusty, dented sedan. The drivers side door stood open, spilling light from the interior to illuminate a lopsided square of dry grass to the left of the pavement.
You left your car door open, I said, shifting into Park, glad for something to focus on other than Nash, though thats where my gaze really wanted to be.
Nash sighed. Its my moms. Shes gone through three batteries in six months.
I stifled a smile as her car light flickered. Make that four.
He groaned, but when I glanced at him, I found him watching me rather than the car. Sodo I get a chance to earn your trust?
My pulse jumped. Was he serious?
I shouldve said no. I should have thanked him for helping me at Taboo, then left with him staring after me from his front yard. But I wasnt strong enough to resist those dimples. Even knowing how many other girls had probably failed that same task.
I blame my weakness on the recent panic attack.
How? I asked finally, then flushed when he grinned. Hed known Id give in.
Come over tomorrow night?
To his house? No way. I was weak-willed, not stupid. Not that I could make it anywayI work till nine on Sundays.
At the Ciné?
He knows where I work. Surprise warmed me from the inside out, and I frowned in question.
Ive seen you there.
Oh. Of course hed seen me there. Probably on a date. Yeah, Ill be in the ticket booth from two on.
Lunch, then?
Lunch. How much could I possibly be tempted into in a public restaurant? Fine. But I still dont trust you.
He grinned and opened his door, and the overhead light flared to life. His pupils shrank to pinpoints in the sudden glare, and as my heart raced, he leaned forward like he would kiss me. Instead, his cheek brushed mine and his warm breath skimmed my ear as he whispered, Thats half the fun.
My breath hitched in my throat, but before I could speak, the car bobbed beneath his shifting weight and suddenly the passenger seat was empty. He closed the car door, then jogged up the driveway to slam his mothers.
I backed away from his house in a daze, and when I parked in front of my own, I couldnt remember a moment of the drive home.
Good morning, Kaylee. Aunt Val stood at the kitchen counter, bathed in late-morning sunlight, holding a steaming mug of coffee nearly as big as her head. She wore a satin robe the exact shade of blue as her eyes, and her sleek brown waves were still tousled from sleep. But they were tousled the way hair always looks in the movies, when the star wakes up in full makeup, wearing miraculously unwrinkled pajamas.
I couldnt pull my own fingers through my hair first thing in the morning.
My aunts robe and the size of her coffee cup were the only signs that she and my uncle had had a late night. Or rather, an early morning. Id heard them come in around 2:00 a.m., stumbling down the hall, giggling like idiots.
Then Id stuck my earbuds in my ears so I wouldnt have to listen as he proved just how attractive he still found her, even after seventeen years of marriage. Uncle Brendon was the younger of the pair, and my aunt resented each of the four years she had on him.
The problem wasnt that she looked her agethanks to Botox and an obsessive workout routine, she looked thirty-five at the mostbut that he looked so young for his. She jokingly called him Peter Pan, but as her big 40 had approached, shed ceased finding her own joke funny.
Cereal or waffles? Aunt Val set her coffee on the marble countertop and pulled a box of blueberry Eggos from the freezer, holding them up for my selection. My aunt didnt do big breakfasts. She said she couldnt afford to eat that many calories in one meal, and she wasnt going to cook what she couldnt eat. But we were welcome to help ourselves to all the fat and cholesterol we wanted.
Normally Uncle Brendon served up plenty of both on Saturday mornings, but I could still hear him snoring from his bedroom, halfway across the house. Shed obviously worn him out pretty good.
I crossed the dining room into the kitchen, my fuzzy socks silent on the cold tile. Just toast. Im going out for lunch in a couple of hours.
Aunt Val stuck the waffles back in the freezer and handed me a loaf of low-calorie whole wheat breadthe only kind she would buy. With Emma?
I shook my head and dropped two slices into the toaster, then tugged my pajama pants up and tightened the drawstring.
She arched her brows at me over her mug. You have a date? Anyone I know? Meaning, Any of Sophies exes?
I doubt it. Aunt Val was constantly disappointed that, unlike her daughterthe worlds most socially ambitious sophomoreI had no interest in student council, or the dance team, or the winter carnivalplanning committee. In part, because Sophie would have made my life miserable if Id intruded on her territory. But mostly because I had to work to pay for my car insurance, and Id rather spend my rare free hours with Emma than helping the dance team coordinate their glitter gel with their sequined costumes.
While Nash would no doubt have met with Aunt Vals hearty approval, I did not need her hovering over me when I got home, eyes glittering in anticipation of a social climb I had no interest in. I was happy hanging with Emma and whichever crowd she claimed at the moment.
His names Nash.
Aunt Val took a butter knife from the silverware drawer. What year is he?
I groaned inwardly. Senior. Here we go
Her smile was a little too enthusiastic. Well, thats wonderful!
Of course, what she really meant was Rise from the shadows, social leper, and walk in the bright light of acceptance! Or some crap like that. Because my aunt and overprivileged cousin only recognize two states of being: glitter and grunge. And if you werent glitter, well, that only left one other option
I slathered strawberry jelly on my toast and took a seat at the bar. Aunt Val poured a second cup of coffee and aimed the TV remote across the dining room and into the den, where the fifty-inch flat-screen flashed to life, signaling the end of the requisite breakfast conversation.
coming to you live from Taboo, in the West End, where last night, the body of nineteen-year-old Heidi Anderson was found on the restroom floor.
Nooo
My stomach churned around a half slice of toast, and I twisted slowly on my bar stool, dread sending a spike of adrenaline through my veins. On screen, a too-poised reporter stood on the brick walkway in front of the club Id snuck into twelve hours earlier, and as I watched, her image was replaced by a still shot of Heidi Anderson sitting in a lawn chair in a UT Arlington T-shirt, straight teeth gleaming, reddish-blond hair blown back by the relentless prairie wind.
It was her.
I couldnt breathe.
Kaylee? Whats wrong?
I blinked and sucked in a quick breath, then looked up at my aunt to find her staring at my plate, where Id dropped my toast jelly-side down. It was a miracle I hadnt lost the half Id already eaten.
Nothing. Can you turn that up? I pushed my plate away and Aunt Val turned up the volume, shooting me a puzzled frown.
No cause of death has yet been identified, the reporter said on-screen. But according to the employee who found Ms. Andersons body, there was no obvious sign of violence.
The picture changed again, and now Traci Marshall stared into the camera, pale with shock and hoarse, as if shed been crying. She was just lying there, like she was sleeping. I thought shed passed out until I realized she wasnt breathing.
Traci disappeared and the reporter was back, but I couldnt hear her over Aunt Val. Isnt that Emmas sister?
Yeah. Shes a bartender at Taboo.
Aunt Val stared at the television, her expression grim. That whole thing is so tragic
I nodded. You have no idea. But I did.
I also had chill bumps. It really happened.
With my previous panic attacks, my aunt and uncle had had no reason to heed my hysterical babble about looming shadows and impending death. And with no way to shush me once the screaming began, theyd taken me homecoincidently away from the source of the panicto calm me down. Except for that last time, when theyd driven me straight to the hospital, checked me into the mental-health ward and begun looking at me with eyes full of pity. Concern. Unspoken relief that I was the one losing my mind, rather than their own, blessedly normal daughter.
But now I had proof I wasnt crazy. Right? Id seen Heidi Anderson shrouded in shadow and known she would die. Id told Emma and Nash. And now my premonition had come true.
I stood so fast my bar stool skidded against the tiles. I had to tell somebody. I needed to see confirmation in someones eyes, assurance that I wasnt imagining the news story, because really, if I could imagine death, how much harder could it be for my poor, sick mind to make up the news story? But I couldnt tell my aunt what had happened without admitting Id snuck into a club, and once Id said that part, she wouldnt listen to the rest. Shed just take away my keys and call my father.
No, telling Aunt Val was out of the question. But Emma would believe me.