Let Him In (Let Him Trilogy) (14 page)

Deep inhale. Slow exhale. Repeat.

Lacey glanced at the sea of faces inside the classroom before knocking on the window of the Social Studies door. Mrs. Fadely stopped talking, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursing as she met Lacey’s wide gaze. The teacher removed her cat eye-shaped glasses, which swung back and forth from their pearl chain as she charged forward. The rapid clicks of her beige pumps matched the relentless throb at the center of Lacey’s body.

For some stupid reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about that damn dream or the stupid star of it.

Mrs. Fadely’s opened the door, the hand on her hip flying up. “Tardy slip, Miss Chase,” she said, snapping her stubby fingers before showing her palm.

Lacey slapped the piece of paper onto it. Mrs. Fadely glanced at it and then crossed her arms over her breasts—which she probably had to roll up before stuffing into her granny bra—as she stepped aside.

When Lacey entered the classroom all eyes snapped to hers, including Kimberly’s and Brooke’s. They glanced at each other and then back at her and flashed welcoming smiles.

I’m still asleep...

Mrs. Fadely shut the door and then pointed at the only available chair. “Take a seat between Miss Conrad and Miss Taylor.”

...this isn’t real...

Kimberly clapped her hands and then motioned for Lacey to come forward while Brooke patted the desk.

...just a nightmare...

Mrs. Fadely cleared her throat. “Now, Miss Chase.”

...so wake the fuck up already!

Lacey trudged down the aisle, keeping her eyes locked on the desk. She flopped down in the seat and then fixed her gaze on Mrs. Fadely’s back as the woman began writing on the black board.

“
Pssst
.”

With a slow blink, Lacey looked to her right. Kimberly was leaning so close Lacey could smell the cinnamon on her breath. Holding out a pack of gum, the blonde  repeatedly snapped the piece in her mouth, which sounded like a hundred of those small fireworks that popped when they hit the ground going off all at once. Shaking her head no, Lacey thought,
If she doesn’t stop that, I’m going to snap myself
.

Mrs. Fadely whirled around, the ruler in one wrinkled hand flying up to point at Kimberly. “Miss Conrad!”

Kimberly’s eyes widened a second before Lacey heard a loud gulp. “Aw, Mrs. Fadely, you, like, totally made me swallow my gum!”

“Gum is not allowed in my class, Miss Conrad.” Kimberly looked like she’d just been told she’d have to wear only thrift store clothes for the rest of her life
.“
And if I hear one more snap, crack or pop,” Mrs. Fadely continued, coming forward to lean across her desk, “you will write me a ten page report on the annoying product. Do we understand one another, Miss Conrad?”

Kimberly’s bony shoulders slumped. “For sure, Mrs. Fadely.”

When the teacher spun around to face the blackboard, Kimberly wrinkled her upturned nose at her back and then looked at Lacey.
She is such an old bitch
, Kimberly mouthed, and then rolled her electric blue eyes.

Seems pretty cool to me, Lacey thought, smiling as she looked down at her hands.

“
Pssst
.”

This time the sound came from her left. Giving herself a mental face-palm, Lacey looked at Brooke, who was waving her cell phone—which was the same lavender shade as her blouse—behind the Social Studies book placed upright on her desk. “Give me your number so we can text,” she whispered.

For a moment Lacey considered trading her unexcused tardy for another unexcused absence. “Don’t have a cell,” she whispered back.

Brooke’s mouth fell open. “You’re poor?”

Lacey leaned closer. “I get my clothes out of dumpsters...food, too, sometimes.”

Brooke gasped, her hand flying up to her chest. Yep—that should do the trick, Lacey thought, struggling not to grin as she leaned back.

Brooke’s wide gaze snapped to her cell. Her thin fingers flew over the keypad. Lacey heard a buzzing sound on her right followed by another gasp. A sideways glance revealed Kimberly gaping at the text message she’d just received. She looked at Lacey and blinked. Once, twice. Returned her equally wide gaze to her mint green cell, which she, too, had color coordinated with her blouse. More flying fingers. Another buzz, on her left. And then a giggle.

Lacey didn’t hear another peep from either girl the rest of the class, and when the bell rang and she stood up, Brooke and Kimberly remained seated. With her stomach growling the entire way, she raced down the hall, to the front entrance. She sighed in relief as she burst through the double doors, the brightness of the world beyond the interior walls making her squint. Shielding her eyes with the Social Studies book she hadn’t wanted to take the time to shove into her locker, Lacey glanced at the bicycle rack as she hurried by. Ghost Boy was absent once again.

He looked sick because he is sick. Probably has a terminal illness. Might even be in the hospital fighting for his life right now.
Or dead. And the last words he probably remembered were the ones you said to him.

Lacey’s pace slowed as the heaviness in the pit of her stomach crept into her feet. The soles of her sneakers scraped against the rough asphalt as she shuffled across the quiet parking lot, to her scooter where she’d spend yet another lunch hour alone.

Thank God.

She’d had enough human interaction to last her a lifetime.

Closing her eyes, Lacey tilted her head back, the warm but soft breeze feeling cool as it flowed over her damp face. The tension that had begun seeping out of her body returned when from behind her came the sound of rapid footsteps—two sets. She knew who was coming even before her name was yelled.

Shooting up off the seat, Lacey expelled a harsh breath as she spun around. “I know what you’re up to,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Brooke and Kimberly blinked at each other and then at her. “You do?” they said in unison.

Lacey narrowed her eyes. “Yes,” she hissed.

The girls pointed at each other and said, “It was her idea!”

“Cut the shit, okay? I know Heather’s behind this master plan.”

“As if,” Kimberly snorted, tucking one kinky, champagne-blonde curl behind her left ear. “Heather, like, totally doesn’t help anyone but herself.”

“I know, right?” Brooke said, nodding at her friend as she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head.

Lacey cleared her throat. Two pairs of wide, blue eyes snapped to her. She raised her eyebrows. “What’s this help shit you’re babbling about?”

“Don’t be mad but Brooke, like, told me about your, you know”—Kimberly leaned forward, cupped her hand around her mouth—“problem.” She whispered the last word.

“And that would be...?”

The corners of Brooke’s mouth turned down in sympathy. “The dumpster shopping.”

Lacey had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from laughing. “Oh, sweetie,” Kimberly said when Lacey’s mouth began to quiver and her eyes filled with tears of suppressed laughter, “it’s okay if you want to cry.”

Brooke nodded. “I know I would.”

“Yeah, totally,” agreed Kimberly.

Hold it, hold it—oh shit!

Slapping her hands over her face, Lacey spun around. Her shoulders bobbed as muffled chuckles that she tried to make sound like sobs poured out of her.

“Oh, sweetie!”

“You poor thing!”

The sound of rapid footsteps made Lacey tense and go silent—the jig would be up and so would her fists if they touched her. They didn’t, but she could smell and feel the fragrant heat drifting off their bodies as they crowded around her. 

“We got, like, a lot of clothes you can totally have.”

“They’re last year’s fashions but you could pull it off.”

Grinding her teeth, Lacey parted the fingers covering her eyes.
They really think I’m that fucking stupid.
Her narrowed gaze darted between faces that were as bright as the sun beating down on the three of them.

“And you’re totally invited to Brooke’s house tonight. It’s way cool ‘cause her parents are so not going to be there.”

The blondes looked at each other with gleaming smiles that showed almost every tooth inside their mouths and then squealed in unison and yelled, “Slumber party Fridays!”

They high-fived each other while sour-tasting bile high-fived Lacey’s tonsils. She swallowed a gag as Kimberly said, “We’re gonna, like, totally pig out on pizza and soda!”

“And then eat popcorn while we watch romantic comedies until dawn.”

“So, like, what do you say?”

With a sharp exhale, Lacey dropped her hands, crossing her arms over her chest as she stepped back. “I say tell that bitch to put a little more effort into it next time.”

The blondes’ confused expressions were so convincing anyone else would’ve been fooled despite the obviousness of their plan. But unlike what The Unholy Trinity thought, Lacey was not that damn stupid.

“I’m sorry?” said Brooke, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be if you don’t drop the act.”

“I’m, like, totally confused,” Kimberly said, blinking rapidly.

“I’m, like, so sure you’re totally not,” Lacey replied, the last word coming out sounding more like a squeak as she raised the pitch of her voice. She cleared her tight throat, which felt raw from the strain of trying to imitate Kimberly’s Valley girl speech. “How the hell can you talk like that all the time?”

“Why are you being so mean?”

“For sure, we’re, like, only trying to help you out.”

Another nod from Brooke, and then her salon-tweezed eyebrows crinkled. “You don’t actually want to shop out of dumpsters, do you?”

“That’s, like, totally gross—no offense.”

With a snort, Lacey shook her head. “She really has you pissing in your designer underwear, doesn’t she?”

“Wh—” The buzz of Kimberly’s cell stopped her mid-word. She glanced at the screen, pressed a button and then rolled her eyes. “Gag me with a spoon.”

She held up the phone to Brooke, who rolled her eyes, too. “Slut.”

Kimberly giggled. “Totally.”

Lacey cleared her throat. When they looked at her, she said, “Care to share?”

“She thinks she’s all that,” Kimberly groused, moving to stand beside Lacey, “but oh my God, like, what pig is going to turn down totally free slop, you know?”

Brooke laughed at that. “Good one, Kim.”

Leaning forward, Lacey cupped her hand around the phone screen to block the sun’s glare and then squinted at the picture. Kneeling beside a pair of legs (female, she assumed, given the scarlet red toenail polish) was a buff, golden-skinned male in floral swim trunks. The long bangs of his sun-streaked blonde hair covered the top half of his face, the bottom half of which sported a wide grin. A bottle of suntan lotion was in one hand, the other on the thigh he was applying it to.

“Who’s that?” Lacey asked, tapping the pair of legs in the photo.

“Duh, Heather. She, like, totally bailed on us.”

Nice touch skipping school, Lacey thought, and then narrowed her eyes as she stepped back. “Couldn’t she bear the thought of her sidekicks ignoring her all day?”

“No one ignores Heather,” Brooke said, her eyes widening as she shook her head. “That would be social suicide.”

“Totally,” Kimberly agreed, nodding.

“All right, I’ve had enough of this stupid game.” Lacey exhaled sharply as she stepped forward, hands flying to her hips. “I know Heather told you about what happened between us last night.”

Brooke grinned. “You called her a dumb ass.”

“So awesome.” Covering her mouth, Kimberly giggled. “And so totally true.”

“She told us that she was going to kick your ass and that we had to help,” said Brooke, looking apologetic.

Eyes widening, Kimberly held up her hands as she shook her head. “We, like, totally weren’t going to, though.”

Lacey’s eyebrows shot up—she hadn’t expected them t
o
admit knowing about the conversation let alone confess their part in Heather’s plan for revenge.

“But we don’t have to worry about her anymore,” Brooke said, and then smiled. “The psycho bitch is gone.”

Bouncing up and down while clapping her hands, Kimberly said, “For, like, ever!”

Lacey’s head felt like a basketball spinning on top of someone’s fingertip. “Wait a sec—what do you mean gone?”

“She took off for California last night instead of waiting until after graduation.”

“Yeah, she totally thinks she’s gonna become a rich and famous celebrity.” With a snort, Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Like, I’m so sure.”

“I know, right? She’s not even that pretty.”

“And she totally can’t act.” Kimberly giggled. “Like, last year, we did Shakespeare and for sure my grandpa would’ve been a better Juliet than her.”

An image of The Man in the Van’s smirking face popped into Lacey’s mind, making her snicker. “Guess things didn’t go so well with Romeo.”