Snared (4 page)

He was definitely there. The boy smiled back and lifted a hand in greeting.

Lindsay tried to return the wave, but her arm felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. He was just so good-looking. He looked like a movie star, only better because he was real and present and separated from her by nothing but a piece of dirty glass. Through the binoculars, she thought his eyes were the color of sky, but they were lighter than that, so light. So amazing.

“Lindsay? What is going on?”

“I'll call you back.”

“What? Hold on—”

Lindsay killed the signal and put the phone in the pocket of her jeans. The boy next door lifted a finger in the air: one second. He disappeared for a minute, bending down like he was putting something away, then reappeared. He stood up. He was so tall. Lindsay noticed that like the men she saw in the yard that morning, he too wore a black T-shirt, but his was way too big on him. It hung like a tent from his shoulders. He was way too tight-bodied for such a mammoth shirt. Nervous, she looked up and down the band of sand, to the back
of the houses and then to the front and the beach and ocean beyond. People were gathered on the sand in front of her uncle's house. Towels and chairs sat beneath a dozen different people, but none of them mattered. Not now.

She looked back at him.

He was waving for her to come closer.

Todd Lombard was Lindsay's first real boyfriend. He was a slender boy with short blond hair, green eyes, and too much brain for his own good. He was Einstein smart and would have been considered a total geek if he hadn't been the star of her middle school's soccer team. Todd was cute and fun, but he was also a little crazy, and not in the fun, let's-raise-some-hell kind of way. Todd heard voices. They told him to do things. They told him jokes, causing Todd to burst out laughing in the middle of algebra or social sciences. Fortunately Lindsay broke it off six months before his parents sent him away to a school in the next county that was able to handle “special” kids like Todd.

Her second boyfriend was normal enough. Too normal. David Carter was also blond and also a soccer player, but he was as dull as a Josh Groban record. All he ever wanted to do was sit around playing video games. When they did go out, they went to movies, usually the ones inspired by video games.

And those two made up Lindsay's romantic history. Neither were bad guys, but they weren't exactly the stuff of great romances either. Still, she had felt an electric charge when they first asked her out. It started in her chest and spread out, shooting up to her scalp and down to her toes. She felt that kind of charge now, walking toward the boy's window, but the voltage was cranked way up, and she didn't know how she could stand this kind of feeling if it went on much longer.

The boy was still smiling at her. His eyes twinkled like he wanted to tell her a secret, but he did not move forward to open the window. She thought that was odd. He stood back from the wall, waving her closer but made no move to slide back the glass that separated them.

Maybe he's sick,
she thought.
He could be contagious. He might even be dying. God, wouldn't
that suck? It would be kind of romantic, but in a completely awful way.

When she reached the closed window, she didn't know what to do. She looked up at him, laughed a nervous laugh, and shrugged.

“Hello,” he called through the glass.

“Hey,” she said.

“What's your name?” the boy asked.

“Lindsay.”

“Great name.”

“Thanks. What's yours?”

“Mark,” he said.

“Hey, Mark.”

“Hey.”

She felt really stupid talking through the closed window and wondered why he didn't open it.

As if reading her mind, he said, “Stupid window.”

“Is it broken?” she asked.

“No,” Mark said. “It's hard to explain. You can open it if you want.”

Lindsay shrugged and reached out to grasp a thin strip of metal on the outer frame of the glass. As she pulled the window open, she noticed an odd metal bracket fixed in the corner of the window frame. It
was made of iron and had a strange shape, swirls and lines in a circle with three points poking away from the center. They weren't very pretty, but at least they were small, hardly bigger than a nickel. One point aimed up the wall, while the other was pointed across the sill. The third jutted toward the center of the window. She noticed another bracket affixed to the inside corner of the sill. In fact, all of the corners, inside and out, wore similar ornaments.

Lindsay stepped away from the open window. She looked inside and saw a small bed pushed against the far wall. A simple blanket lay over the top of it. To her left, on the same wall as the window, was a black upright piano with a narrow bench.
(He's a musician!)
The walls were bare, but there was a desk in front of the window and a pile of clothes against the closet door.

Where is his PC?

“Thank you,” Mark said. “This is the first fresh air I've had in days.”

“Are you grounded or something?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“That blows.”

“Does it?” he asked. His face scrunched up like
he was confused; then he smiled again and nodded his head. “Okay. I understand. Yeah. It definitely blows.”

“What did you do?”

“Things,” Mark said. “Little stuff mostly. A few plagues and a war or two. Nothing apocalyptic.”

Lindsay laughed. “So your parents totally over-react, too?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I saw a couple of guys outside this morning. Are they your dads?”

“They are…” Mark searched for the right word and decided on, “complicated. They're my guardians, if that's what you mean.”

“I guess. They look pretty harsh.”

“You don't know the half of it. Doug—he's the tall one—and Jack are seriously cold.” He chuckled a dry, humorless laugh and dropped his head. “So, how long have you lived next door? I haven't noticed you before.”

“Well, maybe you haven't been paying attention.”

“I think you'd get my attention pretty quick.”

Lindsay felt herself blush. She looked away from Mark, toward the beach where even more
people had gathered in the few minutes since she last looked. When she returned her gaze to Mark, her heart was beating so fast she thought she might faint.

“You didn't answer my question,” he said.

“We're just visiting. It's my uncle's house. We got in yesterday.”

“Oh, okay. I've seen your uncle around, I think. Skinny guy? Always wearing a trucker cap?”

“That's Uncle Lou.”

“How long are you staying?”

“Ten days.”

“That's not very long,” Mark said. “I was kind of hoping you'd be here for the summer. Who knows, I might actually get out of here one of these days.”

“I wish we were staying longer, too,” Lindsay said.

Yesterday it would have been a lie, but right now she meant it.

“It gets a little lonely around here. I mean, Doug and Jack are less than entertaining.”

“I heard music last night,” Lindsay said, choosing her words carefully. “I haven't heard anything like it before.”

“Oh man,” Mark said with a laugh. “Isn't that the
most awful crap you've ever heard?”

“Yes,” Lindsay agreed, thrilled to know it wasn't Mark's music. “It's like a song for a bad yoga studio commercial.”

“Totally,” Mark said, really laughing now.

“Ugh,” Lindsay said.

She searched for something else to say about it, but her mind was blank. Mark kept looking at her with that amazing smile, and she could tell he wanted her to keep talking, but she didn't have a clue what to say. Looking away from him, hoping that her mind would clear without the distraction of his face, Lindsay looked down at the sand, following its ridges and grooves with her eyes.

Say something
, she thought, only she didn't know if she meant it for herself or Mark. It didn't really matter. She simply wanted the uncomfortable silence to pass. When Mark remained silent, she forced herself to say, “So, if you weren't grounded, what kinds of stuff would you be doing?”

“Today?” Mark said. “I'd probably be surfing. It's not a great day for it—only two-to four-foot swells. I mean, a couple days back when the storm was coming in, they were slammin', but it's kind of
quiet. Still, it's waves and board. A hell of a lot better than walls and bed.”

“Cool,” Lindsay said. “I'd love to learn how to surf.”

“It's great,” Mark said. “Other than that, I just kind of hang these days. I used to ski and play football and stuff, but that's kind of over. Doug and Jack aren't what you'd call athletic types.”

“They look pretty athletic.”

Mark made a
phfft
noise with his lips. “They lift weights and jog, but they aren't into human sports, you know? They aren't out in the world, sharing the slopes and the streets. I mean, there's a world full of people, and if you aren't among them, affecting them, enjoying them, you might as well not exist. It's a total nonlife, and they embrace it because they're afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Lindsay asked.

“I don't know. Just life,” Mark said. “Doug and Jack want everything to be controlled and perfect, and the only way to get that is to stay away from real people and real life. They don't understand that chaos and control are the fuel mix that keeps the world spinning. It's screwed up. They're totally removed. Unfortunately, they decided to remove me, too.”

“And there's no place else you could go?” she asked.

“Not now,” Mark said. His face grew serious, darkened. “Right now, I'm trapped.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Thanks. It's a temporary situation, but it feels like it's been going on forever.” Mark's face brightened. “But now I've met you. You can visit and keep me company every now and then. I mean, when
they
aren't home. They'd totally freak if they knew we were talking.”

“Well, then we won't tell them, but maybe I'll stop by again.”

Mark's mouth spread into a wide, charming grin. The sight of it just erased Lindsay's cool, and she felt like an excited child. Again she found herself in the middle of a long silence, her mind filled with too many thoughts to pick just one.

“So where do you go to school?” Mark asked.

“Baker High,” Lindsay said, then realized Mark would have no idea where that was. “It's in Helensburgh, Pennsylvania.”

“I was in PA a couple of times. Philly mostly. It was okay.”

“Philadelphia is about an hour away.”

“What's Helensburgh like?”

“Kind of like Smallville, only without the hotties.”

Mark laughed. “I've been in plenty of those places.”

Another uncomfortable silence fell over them.

Lindsay was about to ask how long he and his guardians had lived in the house when she heard their car turning into the drive. Mark's face went from cool and smiling to absolute panic in under a second.

“They're home,” Lindsay said, suddenly feeling desperate herself.

“Close the window,” Mark said, his voice sharp with fear. “You have to close the window.”

“I…” Lindsay wanted to run. The car was already parked on the other side of the house. Any second the doors would open, and Mark's guardians might hear them.

“Please,” Mark said, drawing away from the desk to the center of the room. “You have to close it.”

Lindsay shot her hands out and pushed against the glass until the window was again secure in its frame. She looked at Mark a final time. He mouthed the words
Thank you
.

Then she ran.

Lindsay felt so many things. Excitement. Happiness. Disappointment. She paced her living room. Nervous energy crackled in her legs and her fingertips. She needed to keep moving or the energy would burn her up from the inside. But it was all too amazing for her to believe. It was like a fairy tale, only in reverse, because the prince was the one in the tower held captive by his evil guardians. And Mark was as close to a prince as she was likely to find on Redlands Beach. He was handsome and athletic, and he was a musician. Or at least, she assumed he was. He had a piano in his room and little else. It must have been important to him. She should have asked if he played, but she
had been so flustered.

She still felt that edgy excitement. She'd wanted an amazing story to tell Kate and everyone when she got home, and now she was living one. Too bad the story had such a sad beginning, with Mark snared by his guardians and all.

He looked so scared
, Lindsay thought.
Do they abuse him? Did they hit him? That cry I heard over the music—could that have been Mark? That's totally illegal. Nothing he did could be that bad. Maybe he shoplifted or got caught with a blunt or some beer. He might have borrowed his guardians' car without asking. Kids do stuff like that all the time, but parents act like everything's a murder charge.

Lindsay stopped pacing for a moment. She looked out the front window at the beach. The water twinkled with silver light as gentle foam-capped waves whispered to the shore. The sun was high above, and the sand was covered with people. She tried to concentrate on the beach-goers in order to undo the knots her emotions had tied in her head and chest.

It didn't work.

 

Lindsay walked on the boardwalk. After meeting Mark, she thought about lying out on the beach, but she was too agitated to just lie down on a towel.

Hot sun bathed her face and shoulders with wonderful warmth. Her sandals clacked on the wooden boards. The boardwalk shops were different than she remembered. Oh, there was still the usual selection of beachwear and surf shops, the flat-front food shacks and the touristy souvenir shops, but now a nice café had sprung up, as well as a clothing store that carried actual fashions, not just T-shirts and bikinis. Not to mention, the buildings were freshly painted. It all looked so much nicer than she remembered it. People wandered in and out of the stores, laughing and pointing, holding hands. Children were everywhere, some clinging close to their parents, others racing back and forth over the boards.

One figure caught her attention—the burner she'd seen outside of her uncle's place yesterday. He stood by the wooden railing across the walk from her. His head was down. Blond dreadlocks formed a thick ragged bush on his scalp.

Lindsay stopped walking. The boy was hunched
over as he had been when lighting his pipe amid the thunderstorm, but now his hand moved rapidly from his forehead to his belly and then from pectoral to pectoral. He was crossing himself like priests do, except he kept doing it. Frantically.

“Someone took scary pills,” Lindsay whispered.

As if hearing her, the burner fixed a wide-eyed, crazy-ass stare on Lindsay. His lips were moving, but he was too far away for Lindsay to hear what he said. In fact, she got the impression he wasn't really talking, just moving his lips in silent prayer. He lifted his hands toward her, palms out as if to stop an attacker. Deep cuts on his palms, still bleeding, formed the shape of crosses.

“They're real!” the boy suddenly shouted. “God protect us. They're real.”

Lindsay jumped with fright and backed away. Even though she knew the kid was tripping hard and ugly, his cry terrified her. She didn't need this level of crazy in her life. So she ran off, his shouts following her through the crowd.

 

Once she was too far down the walk to hear the burner's shouts, Lindsay relaxed. She stopped walking and looked around at the shops and the crowd.

A little boy holding a dripping ice-cream cone stubbed his toe on the walkway in front of her and tumbled forward. Lindsay gasped and reached low, totally out of reflex. She caught the boy before he hit the boardwalk, but his ice-cream cone flew through the railing and into the sand. He looked around, confused for a moment, and then started to cry.

“Hey,” Lindsay said, feeling bad for the kid. “Hey, it's okay. We'll get you another one.”

The teary-eyed boy looked at her like she had a bug on her face. Then he started crying again.

Oh great,
Lindsay thought.
What am I supposed to do now?

“Are your parents here?” she asked.

Just then a shrill female voice rose up over Lindsay's shoulder. “Randy!”

She turned to see a girl stomping over the boards toward her. The girl had long platinum blond hair, perfectly flat and straight, hanging long enough to drape over the brightly colored bikini top she wore. Her skin was almond brown, and so uniform in color, Lindsay imagined she had the tan sprayed on recently.

“I'm sorry,” the girl said, reaching down to grab
the little boy's hand. “He's such a total pain.” She turned to the boy and said “Randy. Don't go running off. Gah, it's like I've told you a billion times.”

“Ice cream,” the little boy said.

“It fell in the sand,” Lindsay explained to the girl.

“Figures. That's like the third time this week.”

“Is he your brother?”

“Sadly,” the girl replied. She shook her head and waved a finger at him. She did it so dramatically Lindsay knew she wasn't really mad. “I'm Ev, and this is Randy.”

“I'm Lindsay.”

“Cool. Who are you here with?”

“Parents.”

“Noooooo,” Ev cried, so loudly a bunch of tourists turned to look. She broke up laughing and made an exaggerated expression of shock. “That's like the worst. I mean, my parents are here…someplace…but I'm totally avoiding them. Unfortunately, my freedom comes with a price: Randy.”

“Ice cream,” the boy whimpered.

“Yeah,” Ev said. “We'll get you another ice cream, but you have to sit down and eat it this time.”

Ev grabbed her brother's hand and gave him a playful yank. “Where you headed?” she asked Lindsay.

“Just hanging out.”

“Well, come hang with us. We're in the Hot Dog back there. Smoothies are on me.”

Lindsay only needed a second to say “Sure.” Ev seemed like fun. Maybe a little wired, but still cool.

 

The Hot Dog was a gleaming tile and chrome café with a long neon sign in the shape of a hot dog behind the bar. Other neon tubes were shaped like waves and surfboards. The tiles were salmon pink and the tables matched.

Lindsay followed Ev and Randy into the cool interior. All of the tables were crammed with families, couples, and groups of friends. Ev raised her hand, waved to someone in the back of the room, and shouted “Got him!” She seemed totally oblivious of the fact that the room was full of strangers.

At the back, two small tables had been pushed together, and three girls waved excitedly. Every one of the girls had straight platinum hair, a bikini top, white shorts, and a perfect tan. It was like they'd been to a cloning clinic or something.

“My entourage,” Ev said to Lindsay. “It's so weird.”

Lindsay smiled, not sure what to make of the strange group of girls.

After shoving Randy into the booth, Ev pulled back a chair and sat down. She introduced Lindsay to her friends. They all had fractured names: Char, Mel, and Tee.

Char, the girl on Lindsay's far left, had round cheeks and plump lips and wore a little too much makeup. Next to her sat Mel. Though the prettiest of Ev's entourage, Mel's outfit looked the most tragic. Her bikini top was old, the color faded, and her shorts were frayed at the legs. Her bleach job wasn't terribly fresh either, as dark roots nearly half an inch long ran from her scalp. The last girl, Tee, was small boned with green eyes that made her look like a cat. Though all of the girls smiled, their eyes were clouded with suspicion. Lindsay could tell that Char liked her least of all.

Lindsay felt uncomfortable, but Ev said, “So Lindsay here saved Randy's life.”

The girls gasped.

“Totally true,” Ev continued. “The little creep about fell off the boardwalk and snapped his neck.
Then Supergirl showed up and saved him. She rocks. Be nice.”

Before Lindsay knew what was happening, the girls were leaving their seats and swarming her, hugging her. “My god, you could've been killed,” one, maybe Mel, whispered. Lindsay nearly laughed at all the overblown drama, but she decided to play it cool.

It turned out that Ev was something of a local celebrity. Or at least she used to be a local who would soon be a celebrity. Knowing from a very young age that Redlands Beach and its surrounding areas were not for her, Ev pursued her dreams. Last year she'd asked her parents to let her go to New York to stay with a cousin, so she could break into modeling and acting. Already she'd done a number of ads for national magazines and was offered a small part in an independent film.

“I'm just like hanging with the old school until I have to start shooting,” Ev explained. “We've hung out since we were like four or something. Once I started getting work, my girls here got all
Single White Female
on me. Have you seen that movie? No? It's awesome. But anyway, it's just a goof. Mel
is already letting hers grow out.”

Lindsay didn't know what to say. She found herself suddenly intimidated by Ev. A model? An actress? Kate was never going to believe this.

“What about you?” Ev asked. “You're like here with your parents. Are you on a leash or can you cut loose?”

“I'm here, aren't I?” Lindsay replied. “I cut the leash a long time ago.”

“Exssssssssssellent,” Ev said, rubbing her hands together.

“Totally.” “Awesome.” “Cool.” Ev's entourage chimed in.

“So,” Ev said. “Here's the schedule. We'll be on the beach at like ten
A.M
. every morning, because morning sun isn't as harsh on the skin. Around lunch, we hang here or over at the Java Pit, so we can plan our world domination. Afternoons, we totally relax, right? Mannies. Peddies. Facials. Whatever. At night we do the bonfire thing. I'm only in for the next four days, so join the carnival before it leaves town. Know what I'm saying?”

“Sure,” Lindsay said, excited to know she wouldn't be totally dependent on her parents for entertainment.

And there's always Mark
.

She wanted to see him again. Something about him touched her. Maybe it was the fact that he seemed trapped, and she wanted to help. Maybe it was just his bod. She didn't know, but she hoped their first conversation wouldn't be the last.

“Add another name to the VIP list,” Ev said, wrapping an arm around Lindsay's shoulders. “Girl's got a full-access pass.”

Lindsay smiled and leaned into Ev's hug.

This was going to be a very cool vacation after all.