Traveler (Traveler #1)(7)

I turn to get another notebook out of my backpack, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror over my dresser.

“Snap out of it,” I say to my reflection. “It’s all just a coincidence.”

Only it doesn’t feel like a coincidence. It feels like fate.





4

Stalker

I spent a mostly sleepless night thanks to a green-eyed somebody, and now I barely have enough time to get out the door this morning. Thursdays are always hard because Mom works her second job. Some days, she and Danny work together at the retirement home, but Thursdays she works early at the drugstore, and that means I have to make sure that Danny has his breakfast. He can put his own Toaster Strudel in the toaster, but sometimes he can’t get the frosting pack open and he’ll hack it apart with scissors trying to open it himself. Today he manages fine, but he can’t find his favorite cup.

I finally locate it with the dirty dishes in the half-full dishwasher, clean it out, and hand it to him, and then I realize I am going to have to run all the way to school if I don’t get a move on.

I wave good-bye to Danny, reminding him that I’ll be home at two forty-five, and then I run down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. It’s getting colder in the mornings now, but we haven’t had snow yet. The neighborhood is decked out for Halloween, with pumpkins and scarecrows all over the place.

I’ve lived in Ardenville my whole life, grown up in the same house and walked the same street to school. When my parents divorced, Dad stayed in town, and he lives only a few blocks away, so the walk doesn’t vary much. It’s a nice place to grow up—if you like sameness and quiet and a place with no surprises.

The sound of footsteps coming up alongside me breaks into my thoughts.

“Can I walk you to school?”

I am seriously so startled I let out a shriek. He knows where I live? Now I am really starting to get alarmed. He’s in my dreams, he’s in my reality … and that can’t be coincidence. Maybe my subconscious is trying to warn me. I try to keep my voice calm.

“I’m fine, thanks. The school is right down the next street.” So don’t go thinking you can pull me into your murder van or anything.

“The walk will go faster if you have company,” he offers.

“I don’t need company.” I pick up my pace, nearly jogging because I’m walking so fast.

“Jessa…,” he says, holding his hands out. “I just want to talk.”

“I have to go!” I start running and don’t stop until I get to the doors of my school. When I look back, he’s gone.

I end up spending most of my class time for the rest of the day worrying about whether I’m going to run into Finn again—and alternately kind of wishing I would. Which makes no sense. He could be a serial killer, for all I know of him.

Except he doesn’t seem dangerous. Isn’t that what people always say about serial killers, though? He was the nicest guy … really polite … I have to stop letting him take over my brain.

When lunchtime comes, I pick at my food, glancing around because I half expect Finn to step out from behind the serving line, tearing off his hairnet and a lunchroom-lady mask to reveal that he’s still watching me.

“You okay, St. Clair?” Ben asks.

“Yeah. I didn’t sleep well.”

“Hey, at least tomorrow’s Friday and you can rest up. It’s not like either of us ever have anything to do on a Friday night.”

“You’re not hanging with your soccer buddies?” I look nervously over my shoulder.

“Jessa.” He gives me a look. “My father is a professor and my mother is a software developer. Who do you think I hang out with when I’m not working? Nerds like you.”

“Thanks.” I push my food away.

“Don’t be like that. I just mean that between the two of us, maybe we can find something to do this weekend. What do you think?”

My only thought at the moment is that I probably haven’t seen the last of Finn. And I really want to know how he knows where I live. It really should creep me out more, but it doesn’t. Finn feels sort of … comfortable. Like a friend. Like Ben. Okay, maybe not like Ben. I’m not obsessing over Ben’s eyes on a minute-by-minute basis. I’m sort of freaked out by how not-entirely-creepy this is, which really makes it kind of creepy. If that makes sense.

“I guess so,” I finally answer Ben. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

I make it home without any sign of Finn, but that doesn’t keep my head from swiveling left and right as I walk. I reach the front door and laugh at myself for getting so worked up. Obviously, he got the hint.

I barely make it through the door when Danny asks if I’ll play soccer with him out back. Ever since Ben started coming over, Danny’s had a bro-crush on him. He’s trying to learn how to play, and I need something to do besides sitting around worrying about crazy guys stepping out of my dreams, so I agree.

And of course, right on cue, Finn shows up. Our back lawn is unfenced, and he must’ve seen us from the sidewalk. He’s standing there watching, and this time I’m not scared—I’m starting to get really annoyed instead.

I tuck the soccer ball under my arm and walk over to him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. “This is private property.”