The Rules for Disappearing (14 page)

ners with Will’s. I don’t know what happened between Ethan and N—

Ben except that they try to kill each other every chance they get.”

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“Then why does Emma still date Ben?”

Catherine puts her finger in her mouth and acts like she’s gagging. “They’ve been dating off and on since freshman year. They’re nothing but drama queens, both of them. It’s like they try to see who can make the biggest scene in public.”

On the way back to the truck, Ethan hangs back, tugging on

the go-bag for me to do the same.

“What?” I ask.

“You didn’t know those guys, did you? The brothers at your old school.”

Need some quick thinking here. “I do. They’re just not that nice so I didn’t know what to say since that guy is related to them.”

Ethan nods but I can tell he thinks I’m full of it.

This is getting so old.

I drag myself up each small step to my house. It’s time to pump my mother for information. I couldn’t concentrate on anything today and I’m still freaked out about what happened last night so it’s time to throw The Plan into high gear. It won’t be pretty but it’s necessary. I hate talking to her when she’s drunk, and I hate that it takes her being out of her mind to get any truth out of her.

Mom’s on the floor in the kitchen—cleaning. Scrubbing it, actually. Just my luck, the one day I get up the nerve to work on her, she’s sober. Or mostly sober.

My bag drops on the table with a loud thump and Mom spins

around. “Sissy! You’re home.” She hauls herself off the floor.

“Hey, Mom.” I want to ask why she’s sober today of all days but

—S

I resist.

—N

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“You want a snack?” This is the first time since we’ve been here that she’s worried about my dietary needs. She turns to the kitchen and starts looking for food. Dad went to the grocery store last weekend but only got a handful of things. She slams cabinet doors open and closed. She’s just now noticing how bare they are.

“Well, there’s soup. I can fix soup,” she offers,

“I’m fine. I’ll eat at Pearl’s later.” I sit down at the table. “Mom, can we talk?”

She takes the seat across from me. Her eyes are clearer than

they’ve been in days but her hands are shaky. “What is it?”

“I know I’ve asked this before but I really need an answer this time. Why are we in Witness Protection?”

“Uh, that’s, uh, not something. . . . You need to talk to Dad.” She gets up from the table and starts washing the dishes in the sink. I move to the counter next to her.

“He won’t tell me. I’ve asked him a hundred times. I asked you a hundred times. I have a right to know.”

She scrubs a plate that has nothing on it. “I can’t, Sissy.”

“What did he do? Did he steal money? Sell drugs?”

Mom keeps scrubbing.

“I did some research in the school library. You’re either in the program voluntarily because you witnessed something or because you did something wrong and agree to be a witness against someone else. And it’s mostly to do with drugs or money.”

Scrub, scrub, scrub. I wait for her to say something—anything

but she’s ignoring me.

S—

“I think he did something wrong. If we’re here voluntarily, why N—

the big secret?” I ask.

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Still nothing. I want to make her turn around and look at me,

make her answer me.

“What did he do—sell drugs, launder money, what? I bet it’s

both or these suits wouldn’t be up our ass this bad.”

Mom drops the plate in the sink, spins around, and slaps me.

Hard. We stand there, face to face, both of us stunned. Mom looks at her hand like she doesn’t recognize it, and then runs out of the kitchen to her room. The last sound I hear is the lock click into place.

—S

—N

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RULES FOR DISAPPEARING

BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:

Always act like you know what you’re doing. Even if you have no idea what you’re doing.

“So,what are you doing this weekend?” Ethan asks after we

drop Teeny off at school.

I freeze. This can be an innocent question or lead up to asking me out. It’s cool spending time with him when Teeny’s around, and she’s almost back to her annoying old self. But a date is different. I can’t let myself keep thinking about him like that. I’m desperately trying to keep some distance between us.

“Working tonight. I’ve got some stuff to do with my parents

tomorrow.”

I haven’t seen Mom since she popped me yesterday afternoon.

She’s been holed up in her room. Dad’s taking me to Wal-Mart to get more food and other things, but I’d be humiliated to tell Ethan these are my big Saturday plans.

“Maybe we could do something after you’re done at Pearl’s.

There’s a party tonight we could crash.” He smiles and his dimple S—

cuts deep in his cheek.

N—

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“I’m sure I’d be the only one crashing. And you don’t have to

hang with Mary every night at Pearl’s by the way. I bet you love working for free.”

He pulls into the school parking lot and parks the truck. “I pitch in at Pearl’s all the time, always have. I usually eat there two or three nights a week.”

O-kay—now I’m mortified. I assumed he was coming by there

because I was working. I’m obviously reading way more into his appearances there than I should.

Ethan and I walk side by side toward school. The parking lot

is full and people are milling around everywhere. No one looks in a big hurry to go inside. I get a few odd stares, since this is the first time Ethan and I have been together outside of class or Pearl’s. We get closer to the front of the lot and something’s up with Emma and Ben. They’re in the middle of a huge fight, both yelling and pointing fingers at each other. A small crowd gathers around them.

Ethan tenses next to me. His expression is hard and gets worse the closer we get.

He stops and stares at them. I’m torn. Do I keep walking? Do I stop and stand next to Ethan? Are they about to fight again? Before I can bolt, Ethan barely touches one finger to my wrist. I’m taking this to mean he wants me to stay.

Ethan looks to Emma. “You all right?”

Ben answers for her, “What the hell does that mean? Why

wouldn’t she be all right, she’s the one who started this.”

“I started this?” Emma pushes him in the chest with both

hands and he stumbles back. He’s got that look like he’s not going

—S

—N

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to take too much more of this from her and I hope to God he doesn’t actually push her back.

Ethan’s posture gets stiff. “Maybe you should walk away.” He

says it as a question but I can hear the fury in his tone.

Emma turns on Ethan. “I’m fine. And don’t act like you have

any say in this.”

Ben moves next to Emma, a united front now against Ethan.

“She’s right, Landry. Be a good boy and move along.”

Emma shoves him away. “Oh, no. You’re not off the hook that

easy.”

I can feel the waves rolling off Ethan. He’s pissed and his fists ball at his sides. I’m sure the principal won’t ignore two fights in two weeks. Without thinking, I grab his hand and pull. He doesn’t budge at first then finally he allows me to drag him away.

Once we get some distance from Ben, I try to drop his hand

but Ethan holds on tight. He’s still mad and picks up the pace. We go through the back door of the school and then through another door on the right. It’s a narrow space with barely enough room for a stairwell that I didn’t know was here before.

“Wanna cut out of here today but not get caught?”

This makes me nervous. Do I want to sit through class all day?

Hell no. Can I stand to spend the entire day with Ethan and not like him more than I already do? Double hell no.

I lean back against the wall. “I don’t know, Ethan. I could get in a lot of trouble.” What if the suits find out? The possibility of being relocated makes my stomach drop and I realize I’m more attached S—

to him and this place than I should be. “I can’t. I really can’t.”

N—

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He looks disappointed. He’s still holding my hand and rubbing

his thumb over mine. It feels really good.

“I get it.” He takes a step closer, putting his hands on my hips and his head comes in close. He whispers, “Thanks for saving my ass. I was just about to knock the shit out of him and that wouldn’t have ended well.”

I can’t speak. He kisses the side of my neck and I’m sure he can feel my pulse thumping. He moves away from my neck until his face is inches from mine. His lips are so close but it’s like he’s waiting for me to close the gap between us. I hesitate for a second or so then lean in just enough to make contact. It’s all the invitation he needs.

His hands leave my hips only to move to the sides of my face. Kissing him is as good as I ever thought it would be.

He breaks away, kissing me one last time on that really sweet

spot on my neck, then pushes through the door leading back to the hall, leaving me alone in the stairwell. I sit down on the bottom step and put my head in my hands.

I should have cut with Ethan. Today sucks, royally. Ten minutes into Health and I want to take my book and knock Ben unconscious.

We’re in the library listening to a guest speaker talk about depres-sion and suicide rates in college and how to recognize the signs. I’m trying to ignore the fact that it sounds like she’s talking about my mother.

Ben started flirting with me the second he walked into home-

room and hasn’t stopped yet. He’s going out of his way to talk to me and has even walked me to the library. We didn’t even have to sit

—S

—N

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with our partners for this but here he is while Emma sits at the table behind us with a few of her friends.

Ben crumples a note and flicks it toward me.

Sorry I didn’t call you last night about our project.

What are you doing this weekend? Let’s get together.

No. No, no, no. This is not good. I’m so not going over to Ben’s house. And coming to my house is out of the question. We have two more weeks to finish—it’s not due until Friday after next. I scribble back a reply.

Can’t this weekend.

Maybe we can find a day next week.

I toss the note back. He reads it, puts it in his pocket then winks at me. I want to punch him in the face.

He’s using me to make his girlfriend jealous and I know it. It’s a combination of trying to piss her off because they’re in some stupid fight and trying to screw with Ethan. If I’m really the girl he thinks I am, a nobody new to this school with no friends, he’s assuming I’m falling all over myself right now because one of the most popular guys in school is showing me interest. But I know his game. In my old life, I played this game.

Time drags but finally class is over. I grab my stuff and sprint out of the room, not even bothering to put my books in my bag first.

S—

One more class to go.

N—

The go-bag is a pain. It’s stuffed so full of Teeny’s and my

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things that I can barely get a book in, much less two or three, so I’m back to my locker between every class. Exchanging one book for another, I slam my locker shut. Ben’s face is on the other side. Over his shoulder, I spot two minions watching.

Great. Surveillance.

“So, what’s going on with you and Ethan?”

“Nothing.”

Ben falls in next to me as I walk down the hall, the cheerleaders slowly stalking us from behind.

“He’s not the guy you think he is. You can’t trust him and he’ll turn on you in a second. Trust me.”

I want nothing more than to defend Ethan but I realize I don’t know him at all. Or anything about what happened between them.

I dart into my classroom, leaving Ben in the hall, and find a seat in the back. Throwing my head on my desk, I wonder if the teacher will notice if I stay like this for the next hour because I don’t think I have the strength left today to deal with anything else.

When class starts, I raise my head to listen with half an ear. As the clock ticks toward the final bell, I picture Ben waiting for me after school and maybe even offering to take me home. Then Emma jumping me in the parking lot.

With fifteen minutes left, I raise my hand.

The teacher stops lecturing. “Miss Jones?” He’s one of those

goofy teachers who call everyone “Miss” or “Mister.”

“I’m not feeling so well. May I be excused?”

He glances at the clock and says. “Yes, take your things. The

bell’s about to ring.”

—S

Well, that was easy. Once I clear the classroom, I book it outside,

—N

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toward the parking lot. There are a few random people scattered around but no one I recognize.

I’ll have to walk home, and while it’s cold today the sun is out.

I go one street over so I’m not on the main drag from school

and walk at a semi-fast pace. I’m all alone now, hardly any traffic down this road, and it feels . . . wrong. I stop in the middle of the sidewalk—footsteps behind me. I turn around quickly and branches on a bush next to the sidewalk shake and there’s a snapping noise like someone stepping on dead leaves. Is someone hiding in the shrubs? I glance around and it’s deserted. No one around to call for help if I need it.