The Leaving Part 18

"I'll speak with your parents, yes."

"It would be better if you just called me."

He was quiet for a long second. "Everything okay at home?"

"Nothing's okay at home," she said.

"It's better if you call me," he said. "Give me a couple of days."

"Okay," she said. But she didn't want to hang up yet. "Do you think it's really from him?"

He breathed so loudly that Avery pictured his nostril hairs cowering in fear. "Truth?"

She stared at a flyer gripped by a magnet clip on the refrigerator. Dates and times for the auditions. Next Wednesday. A lifetime away. They had to post a reward before then. "Truth."

"It's probably a prank," he said, sounding almost nice. "A really sick, pathetic prank."

"What's wrong with people?" Her hands were still shaking when she ended the call.

Scarlett

She'd helped Tammy into the pa.s.senger seat and had gotten behind the wheel. She turned the key, put the car in Drive.

Had to look around a bit-horn, there.

Hazards, there.

Fluffy dice and stale air freshener there.

But driving felt familiar.

Someone had taught her to do this.

No encouraging mother or father in an empty mall parking lot.

No driver's ed cla.s.s with friends.

Who did this?

What else did you teach me?

At home, she'd poured Tammy into bed and put a gla.s.s of water on her bedside table.

It was 7:00 p.m.

She went to her room to change her clothes.

Then changed them again.

And again.

Shorts didn't feel right.

At all.

Sundresses slightly better.

But florals, no.

Stripes?

Better.

She didn't want to seem ungrateful.

It was just . . .

. . . all . . .

. . . wrong . . .

Would have to go back . . .

But then what would she wear?

Would have to find better . . .

. . . other . . .

. . . stores.

Finally, she settled on the gray A-line skirt and black tank top.

Lying down on her bed, she searched for "oval metal objects" on her phone.

A locket maybe?

Religious medal?

She put the phone down.

Could not keep sleeping in this room.

Not with it like this.

All stuffed unicorns and Glinda.

She stood and stared at the cardboard witch for a minute and imagined a field of poppies, a yellow brick road leading her to . . .

. . . where?

. . . then left.

She opted to drive and was early, even with all that, and had been sitting in the parking lot beside the playground for maybe fifteen minutes thinking about lockets and religious medals and flying monkeys when- KNOCK-KNOCK.

Gasp.

Kristen.

Black cargo shorts.

White top with a black anchor on it.

Black bracelets on her left wrist.

Scarlett leaned over and opened the pa.s.senger-side door. "You scared me."

"Sorry."

Kristen exhaled cigarette smoke, then got into the car, bringing the smell with her. "You smoke?" Scarlett said.

Kristen shrugged. "Apparently."

Crickets.

Palm leaves brus.h.i.+ng against each other in the breeze. /

Just tell her!