Читать книгу The Disappearance Of Sloane Sullivan - Gia Cribbs - Страница 11

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Four

The back screen door slammed shut behind me. “Mark?”

“In here, Kid.”

I smiled at the nickname and followed his voice to the family room of our rental house. It was smaller and a little more run-down than some of the other places we’d lived in, but it had the beachy feel of home. Mark was sprawled on the blue couch, legs propped up on the square glass coffee table next to a pile of mail.

“Did you hear about this one?” he asked, shaking his head at his laptop. “Nineteen-year-old broke into a condo, stole a bunch of electronics, including a cell phone, and left his own phone sitting on the condo’s kitchen table.”

I snorted.

“Wait! There’s more. When he realized what he did about an hour later, he called his phone. The condo’s owner, who had since come home and realized she’d been burglarized, answered and he gave her his name and asked if he could have his phone back.” Mark grinned widely. “The cops arrested him half an hour later.”

I plopped on the couch next to him. “Amateur.”

“Seriously. What’s happening to criminals these days?”

I watched Mark laugh as he set his laptop aside. I’d always been amazed at how much older or younger he could look with a few little changes. When he let his hair grow longer and was clean-shaven, he could easily pass as someone in his early twenties. But when he looked like he did now, with a shorter haircut and a few days’ worth of facial hair, he seemed fifteen years older. It was a skill that let him pose as a wide variety of men in my life, from father to uncle to older brother. Which was funny, because he’d never felt like an actual father or uncle or older brother, not even when I was younger. He’d always been more like the older brother’s best friend you see in the movies, the one who’s always around, teasing and annoying you, but who’ll beat up the guy who’s mean to you at school without blinking an eye. The one you choose to count as family. That’s Mark.

“What?” he asked, realizing I was staring.

“Just admiring my old man.” I ruffled his hair, which was its natural medium brown color. The only thing about him that wasn’t natural were the contacts that turned his brown eyes hazel. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you look so distinguished.”

“Shut up,” he muttered with a laugh as he smoothed out his hair. “So how was the first day?”

I studied my feet resting next to his on the coffee table. “The usual. Nothing exciting.” Guilt flared red hot in my chest.

I’d only ever lied to him once before, and even that was more of an omission of a detail than a full-blown lie. The desire to tell him about Jason was stronger than I’d been expecting. Mark was my person, the one I could tell anything to, the only one who’d always been there for me. Lying to him sucked.

Then I remembered why I wasn’t telling him the truth. No one had ever been officially released from WITSEC before. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. But I was special. A “one-of-a-kind situation,” Mark had said when we started planning Sloane and Mark Sullivan. But if the Marshals knew I’d been seen by someone from my past? Who knows how long it would be before they thought it was safe enough again to let me out.

Mark bumped my shoulder, trying to get my attention. “Any stalkers?”

My heart fluttered as I smiled. It sounded like a joke, but he was serious. I hadn’t been smart about someone once before, and I’d promised to never make that mistake again. “No. I did get forced into a group of overly friendly people though.”

He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud of my little girl, making friends on her first day.”

I whacked him on the arm. “I’m actually about to head over to one of their houses in a few minutes.”

His smile faltered. “Going to someone’s house already? Is that a good idea?”

“They gave me a First Day Buddy.”

“Oh.” It came out like a laugh, like he knew how much it would annoy me.

“Exactly. There’s this senior scavenger hunt thing tomorrow, and I’m on her team and I have to help with something for it. But don’t worry, I won’t stay long. Wouldn’t want to come home late and disturb your beauty sleep, not with the new job starting tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes. The rigorous demands of a college maintenance man require much rest.”

“Don’t make fun of your fake profession. It’s served us well.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, stretching his arms above his head. “Who knew there were so many colleges and universities across this great land of ours? Plus, I never feel guilty when we skip out without giving notice.” He stood, scattering a few pieces of junk mail to the floor.

I crumpled an ad into a ball and threw it into the middle of the small trash can across the room. “Ha!”

Mark chuckled. “Are you going to be back for dinner? I’m making fettuccine alfredo.”

I followed him into the kitchen, groaning with pleasure the whole way. “I would never miss your fettuccine. It’s one of your best dishes.”

“Well, at least not having any friends has paid off. I don’t have to answer their nosey questions, and I’ve had all this free time to master my cooking skills.”

I frowned. I knew he’d given up everything for me. I wondered, not for the first time, whether he regretted it. “We have each other for a friend. Who needs anyone else?”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he studied me. Something I didn’t recognize flashed in his eyes.

I pursed my lips. “You know I appreciate everything you do for me, right? Including making fabulous food.”

Mark dropped his eyes. “I know.” He was quiet for a moment. “I like doing things for you.” He patted his ridiculously toned stomach. “I certainly don’t need the extra calories.”

“Please,” I scoffed. “Like you have an inch of fat on you.”

“I do!” He looked up, eyes bright. “We’ve been slacking on lesson number eleven lately.”

I placed my hands flat against the small kitchen island and glared at him. “We have not been slacking on our long distance running! And I’ve played many a basketball game with you shirtless recently, and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

He flashed a grin, the one where the right side of his mouth rose more than the left. It was the grin he used when he was giving me a hard time, and guilt spread through my chest again.

I intertwined my fingers and examined the lines across one of my palms, tracing them with my thumb. “So apparently there’s a senior trip coming up.”

Mark had his head buried in the refrigerator. “Like a beach trip after graduation? Do seniors still do that?”

“No, like a chaperoned overnight field trip to Charleston the last weekend in April. It sounds like all the seniors go. It’s a school tradition.”

The sounds of his rummaging stopped. “I don’t know.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “What if something goes wrong? What about your eyes?”

“I can keep my contacts in. It’s just one night.” I continued to study my palm, afraid of looking at him when I said what I’d been rehearsing all afternoon in my head. “Plus, I was kind of thinking this placement could be like a test. Once I’m out, I’m going to have to deal with things myself. It might be good to get some practice making my own decisions while you’re still around to back me up. And I think I want to go.”

The silence made my heart race until I finally glanced up, unable to take it any longer. Mark was leaning against the speckled laminate countertop, nodding his head slowly. “You’re right.” His eyes locked on mine. “You’re prepared, but you need to be confident you can handle yourself. And I want you to make your own decisions. So if you want to go, go.”

I was surprised at how much lighter I felt. He may not have known about Jason or that I’d already begun making my own decisions, but it felt like he was telling me I’d done the right thing. And I trusted his judgment without question.

* * *

I walked up the path to the small blue house with a bounce in my step. I felt empowered by Mark’s approval to go on the trip, and the sight of Jason’s house, with flowerpots scattered across the front porch and lace curtains in the windows, reminded me of New Jersey. I rang the doorbell.

Sawyer answered the door with his usual lazy grin. He stepped aside and swept an arm toward the inside of Jason’s house. “Sloane Sullivan, come on down. You’re the next contestant in the Sawyer James game of love.”

Jason stood behind Sawyer. He flashed me a half smile and mouthed, One.

The excited buzz of being in on a secret Jason bet shot through me as I stepped inside. Jason’s half smile wasn’t the only familiar thing I saw. Walking through his house was like taking a trip back in time. The overstuffed yellow chair in the living room was the same one we used to build forts around. The large round wooden table in the kitchen was the same one I’d eaten at a thousand times. And the brown couch I saw as I followed the guys into the rec room in the basement still had the tear on the edge of the right cushion I’d made with a pair of scissors during a bet to see who could make the most paper snowflakes in five minutes.

I peeked around the rec room. Besides the comfy brown couch, there was a coffee table, a couple of beanbag chairs facing a flat-screen TV, a bar with a mini refrigerator in one corner of the room and a Ping-Pong table that dominated the back half. A DVD collection spilled out of the entertainment center onto the floor and two different video game consoles competed for space on the entertainment center’s shelves. I could see why they hung out here.

“Hey, Sloane!” Livie called from a fuzzy beanbag chair.

“Hey,” I replied as I noticed the movie on TV. I raised an eyebrow at Jason. “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”

“Sawyer brought it over. He’s got a thing for ’80s movies. We put it on in your honor, but Livie’s been skipping around to her favorite parts.”

It was on one of my favorite parts too: where Ferris leaves Sloane at the end to make his mad dash through people’s backyards in order to beat his parents home. As movie Sloane watches him go, she says, “He’s gonna marry me.” That scene was the real reason I’d picked the name Sloane, because I’d been jealous of that Sloane’s certainty about the future, or at least her ability to even plan for the future. That’s what I wanted as Sloane.

Livie sighed and glanced up at me. “I forgot how good this movie is.”

I studied her as she turned back to the TV. Mark actually said yes to the senior trip. I had the chance to go somewhere by myself for two glorious days and all I needed was a roommate. I knew it wasn’t the smartest idea, but neither was standing in the middle of Jason’s house and nothing bad had happened yet. “I talked to my dad and I’m in for the senior trip.”

Livie squealed and jumped up, spinning me around in a giant hug.

“You’re making my dizzy!”

Livie pulled back and clapped. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

My plastered-on grin mirrored her own. I was definitely not used to this much girl time. Two days of freedom better be worth this. I stepped away from Livie and nodded at the plain white T-shirts and permanent markers scattered across the coffee table. “So what’s the plan for the shirts?”

Sawyer fell into the couch with a sigh. “We have no idea. We’ve been trying to come up with something related to our double first names for weeks, but we can’t think of anything good.”

“Just do whatever,” Livie said as she reclaimed her spot in the beanbag chair and pulled out her phone. “It’s not that big a deal.”

As I walked behind her on my way to the couch, I caught sight of a photo Livie had open on her phone: sunset over the brightest blue water I’d ever seen. The sun was a fiery ball at the edge of the sky, turning the clouds around it amazing shades of orange and pink and purple. “That picture’s beautiful.”

Livie glanced up. “Oh, thanks.”

“Where is it?”

“Um, nowhere, really. Not like this.” She tapped the screen and frowned. “I’ve been editing it, trying to make the colors really pop, but I can’t get it right.” Her eyes narrowed at something I couldn’t see. “I like to get creative with reality.”

I sat next to Sawyer on the couch and smoothed out a T-shirt. If Livie could be creative, so could I. “What if we do something that’s not related to first names?”

Jason pulled a beanbag chair to the edge of the coffee table and sat. “Like what?”

I eyed Sawyer. “Superheroes.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Superheroes?”

“Yeah. I mean, I got run into in the hall today because someone here supposedly has superhero muscles.”

Livie snorted.

Sawyer flexed his arm, which was surprisingly muscular for such a skinny guy. “There’s no supposedly about it.” He leaned closer to me. “Wanna touch it?”

I pushed his arm away with one finger. “Why don’t you use that muscle to draw a superhero symbol?”

Jason tapped a marker on the coffee table. His eyes locked on mine and that half smile appeared.

Livie plopped onto the couch next to me, her phone nowhere in sight for once. “I’m totally being Black Widow.”

“Are Superman and Supergirl a thing?” Sawyer shifted so his leg was pressed against mine. “Because that’s who we should be.”

I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I’m pretty sure Superman and Supergirl are cousins.”

He chuckled. “Ooh, naughty.”

Livie gave me an amused smile, one eyebrow slightly raised in question. My cheeks grew hot. I hadn’t been trying to flirt—just to give a smartass answer like I’d give to Mark at home—but maybe that’s how it looked. “Um, where’s the bathroom?”

Livie pointed over her shoulder. “Down that hall, first door on your right.”

“Don’t try the door on the left,” Sawyer warned. “It’s like the Room of Requirement or platform nine and three-quarters or something else that requires magical blood to enter.”

I paused at the entrance to the hall, a slight smile on my lips. “Should I have brought my wand?”

Sawyer grinned. “Nope. The Door That Must Not Be Opened is wand-proof.”

“What if I had the special platform nine and three-quarters ticket? Could I walk through it?”

“Even that wouldn’t work.” Sawyer snatched a marker out of Livie’s hand. “It’s J’s room, which is strictly off-limits to anyone but him.”

I opened my mouth but Livie spoke first. “Don’t ask. Neither of us has ever been inside. It’s a weird Jason thing, like the bets.”

I peeked at Jason, who was studying a blank T-shirt and biting the inside of his cheek. It’s not weird, it’s sweet.

“But if you come back over here,” Sawyer drawled, “I’ll show you something that’s nine and three-quarters.”

“Gross!” Livie smacked him on the back of his head. “That’s no way to talk to someone you just met. And physically impossible.”

“Fine,” he grunted. “Would it be better if I said, ‘Come back over, I need help whomping my willow.’”

“Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “You did not just turn Harry Potter into something dirty!”

“Oh, come on!” Sawyer responded. “You can come back. I promise I’ll be gentle when I Slytherin.”

My eyes grew wide.

“My name may not be Luna, but I sure can Lovegood.”

I clamped my hands over my ears. “Stop! You’re ruining one of my favorite book series!”

I looked at Jason. His eyes were gleaming. Two, three, four, five, he mouthed in quick succession. I win.

I groaned, but couldn’t help laughing as I turned into the hall. My smile grew even larger when I realized it was lined with framed photographs.

There were some I didn’t recognize, but many more I did. Five-year-old Jason on Christmas morning straddling a bike that matched the one I’d found under my tree. Seven-year-old Jason with a wide front-teeth-missing smile and a dripping ice cream cone. Ten-year-old Jason sitting in the lifeguard chair at sunset, laughing that giant childhood laugh of his I hadn’t seen here yet. I’d been there for all of them—I’d even taken the lifeguard picture myself. So when I came to a closed door on the left side of the hall that had to be Jason’s room, I didn’t care that I couldn’t see what it looked like. I knew Jason. I didn’t need to see inside to find out who he was now. I grinned and whirled around to find the bathroom.

Instead, I found myself staring at a photo of two women at the beach. And not just any beach. Home. Jason’s mom’s long brown hair was blowing in the breeze and she had her arm around a beautiful woman with dirty-blond chin-length hair, a million freckles and a thin scar through her left eyebrow. They were sitting on colorful beach towels, wearing the matching purple bathing suits their kids had given them for Mother’s Day the month before. The sides of their heads were resting together and their smiles were as bright as the sun shining down on them. I reached up and touched the blonde’s face with a fingertip as tears welled in my eyes. I hadn’t seen my mom in almost six years.

I couldn’t stop my leg from bouncing as I glanced at the man sitting next to me in the too-cold room. He wore jeans and a navy T-shirt, not a suit like the guy who’d just taken my dad into the motel hallway, but I knew he was one of them. His shaggy brown hair and big brown eyes made him look younger than the rest of the suits I’d seen that day, but he was too serious to be anything other than an agent.

He rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath. I decided I liked him, even though he hadn’t really said much to me. He was the only one who looked like I felt: sad and exhausted and totally freaked out.

“No...no!”

I flinched at the cries that rang through the paper-thin motel walls. My dad’s cries.

I jumped up, heart pounding, desperate to help him, but the man grabbed my arm. I stared at him through tears I couldn’t blink away. He silently shook his head.

I hadn’t known I’d been asking a question with that stare until he answered, but now I wanted him to take the answer back. “What’s your name?” I whispered, my voice cracking.

He held my gaze for a long moment. “Agent Markham. But everyone calls me Mark.”

“You’re wrong, Mark.” I tried to say it as forcefully as I could, but that didn’t make it true.

When we’d left home that afternoon, the agents said they were sending someone to get my mom from work to speed things up, and that we’d all meet at this motel. We’d been waiting for hours. She hadn’t shown up.

Mark swallowed hard. “They got to her first.”

The words were like ice in my veins.

“She left work before we got there. Her boss had given her the afternoon off and she was coming home to surprise you and we didn’t know. We tried but...they got to her before we did.”

“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep the truth out. “No. She’s just late, that’s all. She’s coming.”

“I’m sorry.”

It was the softness of Mark’s voice, barely above a whisper, that made me look at him. And his eyes did me in. They were so full of sorrow and anger and guilt that I couldn’t pretend he was lying.

My whole body started to shake as tears streamed down my face.

Mark knelt in front of me and held me tight and even though I’d just met him, I didn’t want him to let go. I forced the words out between shaky breaths: “Are they going to find us too?”

This time when he spoke, Mark’s voice wasn’t gentle. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”

I wiped away my tears so I could see the photo more clearly. I hadn’t been allowed to take any pictures with me when we left, but it hadn’t mattered because my mom was supposed to be with us. Now I tried to soak up her smile and memorize her face. Because I’d forgotten exactly what she looked like.

“You’re going down!”

Sawyer’s shout from the rec room made me jump. I hurried into the bathroom, flushed the toilet—appearances—and splashed cold water on my face to get rid of the blotchiness the tears had caused. I walked back to the rec room as casually as I could and found Sawyer and Livie in the middle of an intense video-game battle that involved both of them yelling at the TV. I walked over to Jason, who was sitting on the couch, just starting to draw a yellow line on a T-shirt. “Hey, I need to get going.”

He frowned. “Already?”

“Yeah. I...I totally forgot the cable guy is supposed to come hook everything up today. I promised my dad I’d be there. Sorry about not helping with the shirts.” I started to back away.

“It’s okay. Do you want me to walk you out?”

“No. I don’t want to interrupt the fun.” I gestured to the TV. “I’ll show myself out. Tell everyone I said bye, okay? Thanks for having me over.” I rushed up the steps before he could stop me.

Because I didn’t own a car and Jason’s house was only a few blocks from mine, I’d walked there. But as I closed Jason’s front door behind me, I cursed my inability to make a quick getaway. I eyed the cars parked along the street, wishing I could start one up and escape faster. Instead, I hustled down the block and kept crossing streets and ducking through people’s backyards, checking over my shoulder as I went, until I ended up several blocks away in the opposite direction of my place. If anyone had tried to follow me, I was pretty sure I’d lost them.

I sat on a bench and buried my face in my hands. The picture of my mom burned bright behind my eyelids. Even though I wasn’t near the beach, I could hear the crash of the waves, feel the hot sand on my feet, smell the way my mom’s perfume and suntan lotion mixed to create the flower-coconut scent I’d loved. Silent tears ran down my cheeks and I shook my head at my own stupidity for breaking down in the middle of the hall where anyone could’ve seen.

You’re not her. Just because things felt familiar back there does not mean you’re that girl anymore. You can never be her again. Too much has happened. Jason doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You’re Sloane, and he needs to believe you’re Sloane.

I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears. Blend in, follow the rules from here on out and don’t let anyone get too close. Especially not your former best friend.

The Disappearance Of Sloane Sullivan

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