OCDaniel (16 page)

I sighed. “Me either.”

When she left for bed, I tiredly sat down in front of my computer. I felt the familiar feeling of unease or dread or whatever it was that always led to nighttime Zaps, so I opened my computer.

Daniel grabbed his bag of supplies. When he met Sara at the door, she looked at him resignedly.

“You look like you're going on a field trip,” she said.

He looked her over—bandana tying back her hair, exposed arms, croquet mallet that apparently wasn't a croquet mallet slung over her shoulder like a rifle.

“Weapon?” he guessed.

“Yeah.”

His father didn't have a gun, so he grabbed the baseball bat. He gripped it with two hands and nodded. Sara checked outside, and then opened the door and hurried out into the blinding daylight.

The silence was almost overwhelming. There was nothing but wind and rustling leaves and Sara's quick, quiet footsteps racing toward a green sedan parked in his driveway. Daniel checked for tall, black shapes but saw nothing. They got into the car.

“Do you even know how to drive?” he asked her as she threw it into reverse.

She looked at him. “Does it matter?”

They screamed out of the driveway and sped down the road, turning off his street and racing toward the highway. They passed empty houses and abandoned cars and bikes. It was the eeriest thing he had ever seen—complete and total isolation. Except for her.

“Beautiful, isn't it?” she asked, watching the houses speed by.

He looked at her. “That's not how I would describe it.”

She looked at him and smiled. “You'll get it. You've been alone a long time. You're just finally seeing it.”

“What are those creatures?”

She hesitated. “I don't know. My father was a guardian, like yours. They were part of an order called the Watchers. What they did, I'm not sure, but we had a station in the basement. I only know that they were monitoring the spatial frequency. When you changed it, you caused everyone to slip through the rift. I can only guess that you also brought something back.”

Daniel rubbed his forehead, overwhelmed. “How far is New York?”

“Twelve hours,” she said. “Settle in.”

I saved the file and realized, belatedly, that I had finally made it past page one. It was a start anyway. I was about to close my laptop when an email popped up.

We'll get the cell phone tomorrow at 7 p.m. How late are you allowed out? We have a lot of recording to listen to.

I sat back. Sara was not going to be happy.

Hey, Sara. Sorry I forgot to mention . . . I can still come get the phone with you, but then I will have to go. I got invited to Raya's party. But I can definitely still come with you to get it. Sorry.

I nervously waited for her reply. Hopefully, she would understand. It only took a few seconds.

K.

I was far from an expert with girls, but I assumed that this reply was a bad thing.

The next day Sara walked right past me in the hall and didn't even look at me. I tried to go after her, but then Max asked where I was going and I said nowhere and kept walking. I still didn't want him to know I was spending so much time with Sara. Especially considering what we were doing.

At recess I kept an eye on my sister, who usually read at the far corner of the yard against a chain-link fence by herself. We were playing basketball, but the school yard was pretty open, so I could see her clearly. I wanted to see if any boys went near her, but when the bell rang, no one had gone within twenty yards of her. Good. I would have had to do something, and I didn't really like confrontation. If it was a big nine-year-old, he might have beaten me up, and that would have been embarrassing.

  •  •  •  

A lot of people were talking about Raya's party at lunchtime.

“What time you going?” Max asked me.

I took a bite of bologna. “I don't know. When do people go to parties?”

“Eight or eight thirty. I have to be home by eleven on a game night.”

“All right. My mom will pick you up so we can go together.”

Max smiled. “How nervous are you, on a scale of one to ten?”

“I don't want to talk about it.”

I had been to a few parties at Max's house before, but that was it. And Raya had never been at any of them. Once we had all gone to the movies, but Raya had been, like, nine seats away. I snuck a glance at where she was eating with Clara and the other girls. She noticed me looking and smiled, and I quickly looked away, flushing deeply. I was so nervous about the party that I wasn't even thinking about returning to John's.

“We're just going to sit around watching movies and talking,” he said. “Trust me, it's nothing exciting. Honestly, I was going to skip it because of the game, but I knew you'd want to go.”

I looked at him, scandalized. “You better not skip it.”

Max laughed and shook his head. “Relax. We'll go. We can just chill after practice if you want . . . leave straight from your house.”

I quickly turned back to my lunch. “Na. I got a little . . . homework.”

“On a Friday night?”

“Head start.”

He snorted. “You're a nerd. Just pick me up at eight thirty.”

“Will do.”

  •  •  •  

Practice that night was even worse than usual. I missed a fifteen-yarder that sent Coach Clemons into a yelling frenzy. His clipboard didn't survive. Everyone looked pretty glum leaving the field, especially Max. We were playing the Beaverville Badgers the next day, and they were by all accounts particularly large, mean, and good. Even Max said we would need a little luck to win it, and he rarely said that about football. Taj wouldn't even look at me. I think I heard him say he was going to consider knocking out my knee so I could join Kevin on the bench. It's funny how fast glory can fade.

  •  •  •  

I met Sara at the corner of John's street; she was waiting by the stop sign with her arms folded.

“You're late.”

“I had to go home and shower.”

“Whatever,” she said. “Let's move. I know you have a party. Let's grab the phone and get moving.”

“Sorry about that—”

“It's fine. You're doing me a favor, and I appreciate it. Let's go.”

I followed her to the house, thinking about the Sara in my book. Right now I could picture her with a bandana and a fake croquet mallet. The real Sara snuck up to the porch like a professional burglar—crouched over and moving lightly on the tips of her white sneakers. She rang the doorbell, and then stuck the key in and pushed the door open, letting me go inside first. It was dark.

Sara shut the door and nodded toward the living room. I led the way, my eyes on the kitchen at the end of the hallway. I had already spent way too much time in this house. We reached the living room—still covered in dirty dishes and beer bottles—and Sara scooped the phone up from under the couch.

“Still on,” she marveled, showing me the screen. “Stopped recording, though. Must have run out of memory. Hopefully it lasted a day or so. Either way, pretty impressive.” She stopped. “Uh-oh.”

“What?”

“I have a text from my mom,” she murmured. “John is coming to the house at seven thirty. She wants to know if I'll be back for dinner.”

“I thought he works until ten!”

She shrugged. “He must have gotten off early. And if he comes here first to change—”

“Let's go.”

She nodded and left the room. I had started after her, when something very bad happened. I got Zapped. It happened when I stepped off the rug. I felt the rush of dread and panic and realized if I didn't fix it now, I might not be able to get into the house again. I might not be able to fix it. I stopped and stepped back on quickly, trying to fix it before Sara noticed. She rounded the corner into the hallway, and I stepped off the rug. It still wasn't right. Panic flooded through me now like a wave of tingling acid. I was in trouble. I couldn't leave it like this. I had to fix it. I stepped off again. But it wasn't right. Four, of course, was wrong. Five missed. Six was wrong. Seven was a miss.

Sara popped her head in. “What are you doing?” she hissed. “We have to go!”

“Coming!” I said tensely, starting toward her. When she disappeared, I went back.

I was in full zoned-out mode now. The Great Space was coming, and I needed to save myself quickly. I needed to get to ten. But when I was at nine, she returned.

“Dan!”

“Go ahead!” I said. “I'll catch up.”

She scowled. “I have to lock it, dummy. What is it?”

I tried to readjust my feet. To fix it without her seeing. She saw it.

“Now's not the time,” she said quietly.

“I just need to—”

“Daniel,” she said. “We're in a murderer's house. We have to leave. It isn't important.”

I don't know what happened. My vision was suddenly blurry. I felt hopeless and crazy and lost.

“It is important,” I replied.

She met my eyes. She was looking through me again. I tried to let her carry me away. She walked over and took my hand, still holding my eyes.

“You are stronger than your fear,” she whispered, squeezing my fingers. “You can do this.”

I felt tears spill down my face, and I nodded. “Okay.”

I was just following her out when headlights lit up the hallway. John was home.

I looked at the window. “We're dead.”

“The back door,” she said, panicking. “Go! I'll lock the door.”

We ran out of the living room, and I turned left while she sprinted to the right to lock the front door. I emerged into a filthy kitchen and spotted the patio doors. I fidgeted with the lock, my fingers shaking so hard it was tough to grab the little switch, and then I pulled the door open. Sara came flying down the hall after me, her eyes wide. She waved, mouthing “Go!” The front door lock clicked open in the background.

Sara bolted past me, and I closed the door, unable to lock it.

The backyard was fenced in, but there were tall shrubs in the back corners. I just spotted Sara diving headfirst behind one, and followed her, plunging headlong into the scratching, clawing branches. I landed with a thud in the dirt beside her. The lights in the hallway flicked on.

We crouched next to each other, watching as a silhouette passed by the patio doors. I could hear people in their backyards and a TV through an open window and a cricket in another shrub. I heard the sounds but couldn't process them. The Great Space had taken me again. I knew I had taken nine steps off that carpet, and that was not a good thing at all. I feared I wouldn't ever feel right again.

We waited until we saw the lights flick off and heard the truck pull out of the driveway again.

Sara looked at me, mostly shadow in the dark.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said, but I knew my voice was distant. I knew I wasn't fine. I was as crazy as she was.

“Star Kid,” she whispered. “You have to pay the price to be special.” She stood up and started for the gate. “Let's go. You have a party to get to.”

  •  •  •  

When I walked into the party, I was just returning to normal. It had been a strange walk home. I'd been completely spaced out and had mostly just mumbled “yeah” to Sara as she'd talked excitedly about reviewing the recording. She wanted to do it together and asked if I was free Sunday afternoon. I was, of course.

When I'm in the Great Space, it's easy to make plans. I don't think about the future or the past, so it doesn't matter. I'm just struggling to figure out whether I'm walking in a dream.

Before she left, she turned to me. “Do you ever read things online?”

“Yeah,” I murmured.

“What about?”

“Movies. History. I like to read about authors. World events.” I shifted uncomfortably. “Fashion.”

“But nothing about . . . disorders?”

I looked at her, frowning. “No. Why?”

She smiled. “Just wondering. Have fun at your party. Splash some water on your cheeks when you get home.” She put her hand on my shoulder. “You're still here, Daniel Leigh. Everything fades.”

She disappeared into the streetlights, and I wandered home.

An hour later I entered a world of noise and laughter. There were about fifteen people there, all huddled together in the rec area of Raya's basement. She lived in a big, modern house at the end of a cul-de-sac. Her mom answered the door, and I saw her dad watching TV in the other room. His slender fingers were tapping on his cheek. I sensed he didn't like that there was a party in his house.

I'd had a whole plan to introduce myself to them and be charming in case my dream ever came true and I started dating Raya, but I was still kind of shaken up, so I just smiled meekly and hurried downstairs after Max.

Raya was sitting on the couch with Clara, who immediately threw herself up to hug Max. She gave me a quick one-armed hug that took me off guard, but I guess that was a party thing.

I found a spot on the couch, crammed between Tom Dernt and a girl named Laura. There were at least five different conversations and a movie all happening at the same time, so I wasn't exactly sure what to do. There were bowls of chips and sodas on the table, so I ate a chip and figured I would just do that for a while.

Then Raya appeared over me.

“You made it,” she said. She had her hands out. Did she want a hug?

I shot up like a cannon and awkwardly gave her a hug, trying not to smell the coconut shampoo in her hair. When we released, she didn't step back, and we were only a foot away. She was wearing sparkly lip gloss. She smiled, and the little dimple appeared. I tried to remember how to say stuff.

“Thanks for having me,” I managed, trying to look casual. “Nice house.”