Lost Girls(44)

It was a rave. I knew it. I almost bumped my head on the bed, trying to sit up. Something crackled above me, shifting, something taped to the bottom of my bed.

I readjusted the flashlight beam, aiming it toward whatever was up there.

The light focused on a slender black box, carefully fastened with tape and thick cords, hidden in a place where no one but me would have ever found it. Lips dry, anxiety flickering through my chest, I stared at that box, recognizing it because it looked exactly like the one Lauren had.

I didn’t want it, didn’t want to be a girl addicted to some strange new drug.

But my hand refused to listen to me, it reached out and yanked the box free, my fingers fastening around it protectively, as if I didn’t want to drop it, didn’t want to break or damage the contents. With a shudder, I clutched it to my chest as I slid out from beneath my bed.

I set the box on the dresser, then stepped as far away from it as I could, ignoring it, putting all the storage containers away. After that I sat on my bed, staring at the box. I still didn’t want it. I knew I never would have been able to sleep—not tonight, not ever—knowing that thing was resting beneath me, like a knife lodged between my shoulder blades.

The longer I stared at it, the more I wanted to run away from it.

A thick panic settled in the room. I kept remembering Lauren shoving a needle into the flesh of her forearm, the ecstatic expression on her face, how her mood had brightened afterward. I didn’t want to face the fact that I had a black box, too. I wished I could turn back the clock and that I was still at the party, music surrounding me like warm, familiar arms, my friends beside me as we all danced.

I curled up on the bed, knees pulled to my chest, eyes closed, my teeth grinding, my gaze still fixed upon that box. I wanted to open it and look inside, but I didn’t dare.

I couldn’t stay here. I had to get out.

Just then—when some primal instinct forced me to my feet and I started rooting through the closet looking for something to wear, my hair still wet and tousled from my shower, the muscles in my stomach clenching—my cell phone buzzed. I paused, wondering if I should answer it. Was it Dylan with another confession I wasn’t ready to hear, or was it Molly with ideas about our next LOTR movie marathon?

I grabbed the phone, quickly read the text, the tightness in my muscles releasing and a welcome smile replacing my clenched jaw.

It was from Lauren.

Wanna come out and play?

I texted back. Where R U?

Outside. Waiting.

I peered through my curtains toward the curb. Down the street, half a block away sat a Mini-Coop. The headlights flashed on for a second when I appeared at the window.

Come on, girl! Party’s waitin’.

Gimme 5 seconds.

I didn’t wonder where we were going at one thirty in the morning or whose party we were going to. All I cared about was the fact that I was getting away from that box and my own dangerous past. I tossed on some clothes and shoes, only knowing that I wanted to be comfortable, ran my fingers through my hair, and then hesitated when I saw the kandi bracelet. I’d taken it off when I took a shower and it now rested beside my cell phone. I was sneaking out. Did I want everyone knowing what I was doing? Wouldn’t that only get me in trouble? I held my breath, thinking.

In the end, I didn’t care if my dad or Agent Bennet found out what I did, as long as it was after the fact. I needed to get out of here and I needed to find out what had happened to me.

So, I tucked that black box deep inside one of my dresser drawers, then crept down the hallway, leaving both my cell phone and that kandi bracelet behind.





Chapter Twenty-Five


Lauren’s car was filled with smoke, and all the girls were giggling and acting a little bit stupid when I got in, saying stuff like, it’s about time and let’s go dominate that place and we rule, we totally rule. Zoe tried to pass me a joint, but I shook my head and rolled down my window, catching a breath of fresh air. Lauren laughed, her long hair braided and clipped up, her shirt unbuttoned to show the white bikini top she wore underneath. She looked at me with a puzzled expression.

“You sure you wanna wear that?” she asked.

I glanced down, noticing I had put on one of my black ballet unitards, a jean jacket and my silver ballet slippers. I shrugged. I had no idea where we were going, but I didn’t care about my clothes.

“She looks great,” Stephanie said, puffs of smoke coming out between her words.

“Do you guys have to smoke weed in here? It smells disgusting,” I said.

Zoe didn’t bother to ask the others what they thought. She just tossed the half-smoked joint out the window.

Lauren frowned as her Mini-Coop pulled away from the curb. “Don’t be a buzzkill, Rach. You don’t remember how bad the headaches are sometimes, or that pot’s about the only thing that helps,” she said. “Tonight’s about having fun. So lighten up, K?”

I sat across from her in the front seat. Smoking dope was the key to the headaches I’d been having? Sounded like the cure was about as bad as the symptoms. I shrugged and gave her a look that said, WTF. Meanwhile, we headed toward the 210, Stephanie and Zoe chattering about the boys they’d met at Brett’s party, rating them on some imaginary kissing chart they’d invented.

“I’d give him a 6,” Stephanie said. “Cute, but not much going on in the hot and steamy department.”