The Hand on the Wall(21)
“The second one.”
“Seriously . . .”
“Something I should have done a long time ago,” he replied. “All further questions should be sent in writing to my lawyer.”
Stevie rolled her gaze to the ceiling. To her surprise, tears were forming in her eyes. Of course he was not coming back. Her whole body flooded with feeling. He was the first person she had ever kissed and done . . . other things with. Right here on this floor.
“How did you know I was in town?” she said, coughing out the emotion. “Bathsheba?”
“I have eyes and ears everywhere. I heard about your professor too. Bad shit.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Bad shit.”
“Her house burned down?”
“She left the gas on and lit a cigarette.”
“Jesus,” he said. “A lot of bad things are happening.”
“Yeah, no kidding.”
She sat on the floor next to her bed and considered what to say next. Silence pulsed between them.
“So,” she said, “what do you want? If you’re not coming back. There must be something. Unless you’re worried about me.”
“You?” he said. “Nothing ever happens to you.”
She didn’t know what that meant, if it was reassurance or an accusation.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “I’ll be careful if you call me back once a day.”
“Can’t promise that,” he said.
“What, are you in the witness protection program or something? Stop screwing around.”
“I’m hanging up so it doesn’t get weird,” he said.
“Too late for—”
But he was gone. Stevie stared at her phone for a while, trying to work out what the hell had just happened, only to be startled by an alert that flashed across her phone: BLIZZARD WARNING ISSUED FOR BURLINGTON AND SURROUNDING AREA. STORM DUE TO ARRIVE IN 48 HOURS, ACCUMULATIONS UP TO 24 INCHES EXPECTED.
Stevie put her phone down and kicked it across the floor.
7
AT BREAKFAST THE NEXT MORNING, STEVIE POKED AT A FRESHLY MADE waffle as Janelle typed furiously on her computer. Vi was reading a political science textbook. Nate was consumed by a book with a dragon on the cover.
Stevie should have been reading as well; she had lit class in an hour and was supposed to have read The Great Gatsby by now. She had skimmed the first few chapters—something about a rich guy who threw parties and a neighbor who would watch him. She had anatomy later as well, and there was going to be an oral quiz on the skeletal system. Mr. Nelson would be back on the table, and Stevie was supposed to know the names of all his bones. She was six units behind in her self-based math and language work. Schoolwork loomed around behind her, like a big, dumb monster. If she didn’t turn around, maybe it wouldn’t bother her.
“I sent a school-wide message,” Janelle said, snapping her computer shut.
Stevie looked up, and syrup dripped on her hoodie as she did so.
“Huh?” she said.
“I’m doing a demonstration at eight. I’m inviting everyone.”
Indeed, even as they sat there, Stevie saw the message come through on some people’s phones and computers. Mudge, from across the room, gave her a thumbs-up.
“You know Mudge?” Stevie said.
“Sure. He wants to be an Imagineer and make automatons and robots.”
“It’s going to be so great!” Vi said. They were dressed that morning in red overalls, with a rainbow half shirt underneath. They had shaved some more from the sides of their silver-blond hair and spiked it high. Vi always looked alert and alive, like they had scored a direct hit off the electrical mains. Maybe that was why they were so good with Janelle. Both lived completely and brightly.
“Have to go,” Vi said, picking up their bag. “I’ll be late to Mandarin class.”
They kissed Janelle on the top of the head and waved to Nate and Stevie. Nate bunched up a napkin and stuck it in his empty juice glass.
“I’d better go too,” he said.
“Don’t you have a few hours before your first class?” Janelle said.
“Yeah,” he replied. “I just want to go back and enjoy having the second floor to myself for a little while before this Hunter dude shows up. Hunter. Is he rugged?”
“He studies environmental science,” Stevie replied. “He’s nice.”
“Good,” Janelle said. “David’s gone, and a nice guy who likes the environment is moving in. Sounds like a good switch to me.”
Janelle had never made it a secret that she wasn’t fond of David.
“Okay,” Vi said. “I’ll meet you over there at six and bring you dinner and . . .”
Vi’s phone pinged, and they picked it up.
“Oh my God,” they said. “Oh God.”
“What?” Janelle said.
Stevie’s stomach lurched.
Vi held out their phone, revealing a headline that had flashed across the screen: SENATOR EDWARD KING ANNOUNCES PRESIDENTIAL RUN.
“He’s running,” Vi said. “I knew it. That dick.”
Stevie had shared the secret with Janelle and Nate—they knew that David was Edward King’s son. They both looked at Stevie. Nate grabbed his tray and made a hasty exit.