Lost Girls(15)

There was that familiar list of names again—Janie Deluca, Alexis Cartwright, Nicole Hernandez, Shelby Lee and Lacy Allen—except this time, it had their addresses, too. I could almost feel the wheels spinning inside my head, all the questions I wanted to ask these girls. But it had to be face-to-face. No way I could send each of them a letter and then wait for the replies.

I’d have to go see these girls tomorrow after school, after I dropped Kyle off. He’d already begged me, promising he’d do my chores for a week if I took him to his friend’s house so they could check out Civilization V: Brave New World. Knowing those two, they probably had something else in mind besides video games. Like watching Khalessi walk naked through fire on Game of Thrones or surfing the internet for photos of topless supermodels.

The less I knew about Kyle’s after-school activities, the better I slept at night.

So, I printed out that list of names, folded it, and tucked it into my jacket pocket. I had no idea what connection those girls might have with the box of rave gear in my closet, but I hoped I’d find out tomorrow.





Chapter Eleven


I woke up earlier than I expected, maybe because I actually had a full night’s sleep. No nightmares, no memories pretending to be dreams. Nobody chasing me through a forest in the mountains. I yawned and stretched, noticed a timid sun peeking through a thin layer of clouds. Inside, the house was quiet, everyone else still asleep. So, of course, my closet door creaked open, all by itself like it usually did, making me think of Molly.

Why hadn’t she been at school yesterday? Was she sick? And why hadn’t she called me or stopped over?

She and I had a ritual, one we’d been practicing every year since we were ten years old. We’d watch at least one of the LOTR movies together. Last year, right about this time, the two of us skipped school to go see The Fellowship of the Ring at a local movie theater.

We went in cosplay attire, me dressed as Arwen and her as Galadriel, both of us in full-length gowns and wigs. Afterward, we tucked our costumes into oversize shopping bags and washed off our makeup in the theater restroom, laughing and making a mess in the sink. On the bus ride home, a sweet old lady thought we were homeless and gave us each a crisp dollar bill. We tried not to accept it, but she refused to take it back.

I still have that dollar bill pinned to my bulletin board.

I wanted to talk to Molly so much. She’d make me laugh. Or she’d convince me to go out for frozen yogurt. Or she’d drag out a DVD of The Hobbit and say, We’re watching this now, girl. Any one of those options would be great.

I picked up my phone. Maybe I could send her a text. I mean, she probably didn’t have my new cell number and that was why she hadn’t called.

Right then, when I held my phone, it buzzed.

I’d gotten a text.

My rib cage tightened, like my skin was too small, and I could only take shallow breaths.

I’d only given my number to a handful of people. Mom, Dad, Kyle, my therapist, Agent Bennet, Lauren…

And Dylan—we’d exchanged numbers at lunch.

Hey, U awake?

It was him.

Yeah, I typed back hesitantly.

Couldn’t sleep thinking about you, he wrote.

I didn’t know what to say. Me either? You’re so cute. Why do you even like me?

Still there?

Yeah. Of course. I’d be crazy to hang up now.

Good. So glad you’re back.

I didn’t know what to say. That one guy at lunch yesterday, was he like totally stoned?

Jim? Always! LOL.

Who was the girl with lavender hair?

Zoe. She’s a sweetheart. You and her are …

There were dots like he was typing, but then nothing came through. We’re what? I asked.

You used to hang out a lot. She painted a picture for you once. Maybe it’s in your closet?

I got up and went to my closet, searching. It took a minute to move things around, but I finally found a small canvas hidden in the corner and gingerly pulled it out.

You there? he asked.

The painting was of Dylan and me. He wore a black suit, while I wore stage makeup, a white bodice and tutu, and a glittering crown with wings made of tiny feathers. Just behind us stood a glowing marquee that read Swan Lake. I was Odette and I cradled a large bouquet of red roses in my arms.

Did you go to my Swan Lake performance? I asked, smiling.

Yeah. You were incredible. I could almost see that slow, sexy smile on his face, hear the soft, velvety purr in his voice. We did a lot of things together.

I was really glad he couldn’t see the blush spreading across my face. Oh, I said.

He sent me a smiley emoji and a bunch of roses.

I grinned.

Sit with me at lunch again? he asked.

Sure.

He sent more emojis and I laughed and the two of us continued to chat, as if we’d known each other for years.

...

It was only my second day back at school and I was one step away from being late. Dylan and I had texted too long this morning. Now my brother and I crammed lunches into our backpacks, made a last-minute scramble for our textbooks and tablets, snarfed down a few bites of veggie/egg-white omelets, and then headed out to the garage.

I patted my back pocket for reassurance, where my driver’s license and the list of girls’ names and addresses rested. My wallet, backpack, and cell phone had all gone missing during my kidnapping, but for some reason my driver’s license had been in my pocket when I wandered out onto the freeway. I’d never been able to figure out why. Either those kidnappers had overlooked that piece of ID, or they had wanted me to keep something to prove who I was.