Cassidy Jones and the Seventh Attendant (Cassidy Jones Adventures, Book Three) (14 page)

No, he didn’t.

“Get a room, kids,” Bobby heckled behind Emery.

My arms flew from Emery’s neck, and I shot a dagger glare at Bobby.

Bobby winked and went on his merry way, as he always did when he made a passing rude comment.

“He needs his butt kicked,” I grumbled to Emery. Leave it to that oaf to make me feel even more like a moron than I normally did.

“Not by you,” Emery teased, and yanked my hair to coax a smile out of me. It worked.

“Unwritten”
sang from my coat pocket—the ringtone I had chosen for the cell phone my parents had given me. I’d picked that particular song because who knew what was going to happen in my life?

I fished the phone from my pocket and looked at the screen. It was a text message from Chad:

Hi Red Hot! Wanna know how I got your number? <3 Chad

“You’ve
got
to be kidding me.”

“Who texted you?”

“A maggot.” I punched out a response:
NO
.

“Well, don’t reply to Dunham,” Emery said, grinning. He had guessed correctly whom I was referring to. “You’ll just encourage him.”

“
No
will encourage him?”

“Yes. He’ll eventually get bored if you ignore him.”

“
Eventually
better be this very second.” No sooner had I slipped the phone back in my pocket than it rang again.

“He must have a death wish,” Emery remarked, amused. “Dunham knows you’re taken.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, even though I knew exactly what it meant. Who
didn’t
think I had a thing for Emery, especially when I was hanging off his neck like a Christmas ornament.

“My life sucks,” I grumbled, and returned to extracting my stupid books from my stupid backpack.

Eleven

Worlds Colliding

The need to get the last piece of Assassin out of sinister hands weighed heavily on me—along with the growing list of lies I’d told—and by the end of the school day, depression swaddled me like a lead sheet. I couldn’t shake it off or come up with a solution for locating the microchip—not without help, anyway. I needed a partner. I needed Emery, which wasn’t going to happen.

If I had learned anything in these last several months, it was how to create a façade of cheer. The only person I usually couldn’t fool was Emery. However, today turned out to be one of the rare times when his barometer was down. He didn’t pick up on my troubled thoughts, perhaps because he had plenty of his own.

“You look exhausted,” I told him at our locker after seventh period. We shared a locker because there hadn’t been any available when he’d registered for school. There may have been now, but we sort of enjoyed being locker mates.

“I’m fine,” Emery said. He pulled books off the upper shelf, frowning.

“So you say, but the bags under your eyes say otherwise.” My cell rang again. Emery’s mouth turned down even more. Chad’s texting had been relentless, which had ceased to amuse Emery around fourth period.

“Being that this attention is for my benefit, I’ll talk to him.” Emery shoved a textbook in his backpack.

Algebra
, I noted, a subject he’d probably mastered in kindergarten.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Chad is challenging me.” Emery grabbed his biology textbook—an even bigger joke.

I bristled. It wasn’t that I welcomed Chad’s sudden interest in me, but I couldn’t help being a little offended. “Maybe this isn’t about you
.
Maybe he’s genuinely attracted to me.”

“No argument that you’d be a coveted trophy,” Emery teased, forcing the zipper over the contents of his backpack. “But that doesn’t change the fact this is about me.”

“Looks like Chad isn’t the only one around here who has a big ego.”

Emery grinned. “And this surprises you?”

“Nothing surprises me anymore,” I muttered.

We flowed down the hall in the river of bodies, migrating toward the double doors that would release us into the world. And what a world it was.

Only two of us in this cattle corral are aware that the world is on the brink of change, and not for the better. I have to get the microchip back.
I continued to brood as Emery chatted with Daisy Hoffman, who had muscled her way between us.
Where are you right now, Mr. Phillips?
What are you up to? How am I going to stop you from doing whatever you’ve set out to do, other than holding you captive and beating the location of the microchip out of you?

I couldn’t rule out any possibilities.

As I left the building, I caught sight of Mickey’s flaming hair, and my stomach sank. With his burly arms crossed, his feet firmly planted, and his mouth flattened into a serious line, he scanned the crowd from behind dark shades, looking for Emery.

“Mickey’s here,” I said, giving Emery fair warning.

His head turned in the direction I was looking. Mickey spotted him at the same time, and a knowing smile curved Mickey’s mouth. He shook his head.

Emery grinned back. “It appears I’m being summoned,” he remarked. “Perfect. We need help.”

“W-why? By
Riley
? Riley wants you? What’s going on?”

“Cassidy, don’t you watch the news?” Emery flashed a smile and took off. I followed, a sick feeling of dread gripping my stomach. Riley had told Emery how to break into the museum—the museum that had been robbed last night. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.

“Li’l bro,” Mickey greeted him, pulling Emery into a hug. In Emery’s ear, he said, “Ran into some trouble last night, did we?”

“Not trouble,” Emery clarified in a hushed voice. “Company.”

Mickey gave Emery’s back a firm pat. Releasing him, he turned his big grin to me. “Nice to see you again, Cassidy. How was school today?”

“Fine,” I replied, not knowing what else to say. How much trouble was Emery in?

“Good to hear,” Mickey said, enthused. He clasped Emery’s shoulder. “If you don’t mind, I need to borrow Emery for a while, but I’ll return him, good as new.” He pretended to brush lint off Emery’s jacket.

“Okay,” I answered, at a loss for an even halfway intelligent response.

“Shall we?” Mickey said to Emery and yanked him along by the shoulder.

Emery mouthed to me,
Don’t worry
.

I gave him a pained look. Like
that
was going to happen.

As they walked toward a black SUV with tinted windows, I had every intention of listening in on their conversation, but couldn’t focus enough to locate their voices among all of the other noise.

A group of friends said hello to me as they passed. Absently, I lifted a hand in response, keeping my eyes pinned on Emery and Mickey. The SUV’s passenger-side window rolled down, and a stern-faced Riley peered out. Marty ducked his head from the driver’s seat to eyeball Emery, too.

What is Riley going to do?
I wrung my hands. She loved Emery, so I didn’t think she would go to the police, but what did I know?
And why does he think she would help him now?

Emery got into the back of the SUV with Marky, who had fought a grin when he and Emery made eye contact. Mickey climbed in after Emery and closed the door. The SUV drove off, and I thought I would go mad.

“I can’t take any more!” I declared out loud. My world was spinning out of control. I had to get a handle on it.

My thoughts turned to Joe. I started walking with a sense of purpose toward the metro bus depot, which swarmed with kids waiting for a bus ride home. I couldn’t fix everything, but I could make sure Joe would be warm tonight.

“Cassidy,” Jared called.

I came to a reluctant halt and glanced in the direction the bus would be coming from before I swung around to him. I wasn’t going to miss that bus.

“Later,” Jared said to the boys he had been talking to. Turning his beautiful smile on me, he meandered in my direction. I resisted spinning my hand to urge him to get a move on it. The bus would pull up anytime.

“I gotta catch the bus,” I shouted, walking backward.

Jared’s eyes slid to the depot, analyzing the crowd. He wasn’t one to walk blindly into any situation.

“Alone?” he asked, loud enough to be heard over the chitchat, and picked up his pace to a slow jog.

“Yes,” I called back, wondering why he asked.
Doesn’t he think I can take care of myself?

The bus came around the corner.

“Bye, Jared!”

He caught up with me.

“Where are you going downtown?” he questioned, keeping my pace.

“I don’t know.” I flopped my palms up. “I have an errand.”

“Would you like company?”

“That’s nice of you, but I can take care of—”

“I know you can take care of yourself. I’d just like to hang out with you.”

I stopped walking and stared at him. His mouth curled at the corners.

“It’s rare that you’re not with Emery,” he explained.

I nodded, because it was true. I was usually with Emery.

“I’d like to hang out with you, too,” I said. It was a complete understatement. Jared Wells pervaded my every thought—that is, when my thoughts weren’t revolving around other dilemmas.

“Cool.” Jared looked pleased. “We’d better hurry. The bus is pulling up.”

~~~

Once settled in a seat, I inhaled deeply to relax my nerves, pulling in a variety of scents, Jared’s being the most prevalent due to proximity. With a sidelong glance, I watched him run a hand through his bangs and take note of who was around us before he turned to me, releasing a long breath while doing so. His chocolate-brown eyes met mine. I stared into them like a deer caught in headlights.

“Sooooooo . . .” He dragged out the vowel. “What exactly are we doing?”

Good question
. I rubbed my lips together, wishing they were glossed, and regretted not putting mascara on that morning. I had been neglecting my appearance since learning Emery’s dad was a criminal.

How do I explain my plan without saying too much, and
without lying?

“Cassy?” Jared raised his eyebrows. “Did you hear me?”

“I can’t stop thinking about this homeless man I saw yesterday,” I explained. “He was very cold, so I’m buying him gloves and wool socks.”

While Jared processed this, I analyzed what I’d said and smiled when I realized I’d told him the truth, for the most part.

Jared opened his mouth to speak. I expected him to ask an obvious question, like, “How are we going to find the homeless man?” or “Where did you see him last?” Both were questions I was prepared to answer. But Jared didn’t always ask the obvious questions.

“Why this guy?”

“Huh?”

“Why him? There are tons of homeless people downtown. What was it about him that caught your attention?”

“Ummmmm . . .” My mind scrambled for an answer.
Dang
. I fidgeted in my seat. “I—uh—I told you, he was cold. I just want him to know someone cares.”

Out of nowhere, tears sprung into my eyes as the truth of what I’d said sank in. I
did
want Joe to know someone cared about him, cared very much.

Sympathetic, Jared nodded to let me know that he understood. He redirected his gaze to the window so I could compose myself in privacy. “How about we start at REI?”

“Sounds good,” I agreed, dabbing my eyes.

“We might not be able to find him.”

“We’ll find him. I’d better call my mom and let her know where I am—” I paused as I heard “Unwritten” playing in my pocket. “Weird, if that’s her.” I reached for the phone.

Turning back to me, Jared watched as I looked at the phone screen. I felt my upper lip lift with distaste.

Surprise, surprise
, I thought, reading Chad’s text. His message:
Shame, shame. Give Wells a big kiss for me.
Obviously he had seen Jared and me get on the bus. Being the two-timer that he was, of course, he would come to the conclusion that I was cheating on Emery.

“Creep,” I muttered, and erased the message before Jared saw it. How embarrassing would that be? Hitting
Home
on speed dial, I relaxed in my seat and tried to look cool. I couldn’t wait to tell my mom that I was going downtown with Jared.

~~~

Jared and I had a fabulous time searching for warm things to give Joe. Being on a mission with the boy of my dreams kept my worries at bay. In fact, we had so much fun that I forgot from time to time that he was the boy of my dreams. It was as if we had teleported back to a simpler time, before our feelings had crossed the friendship boundary and gotten into a tangle. We were buddies again, laughing, joking, and enjoying each other’s company. For lack of a better word, we were
comfortable
together, and it had been a long time since I had been completely comfortable around Jared.

We found a couple pairs of wool ski socks with really cool designs, warm gloves made out of this stretchy material that I thought Joe would like, since he could pick up things easily when wearing them, and a Seahawks scarf to go with his Seahawks jacket. I contemplated buying him a new coat, and then realized I didn’t have enough money in my bank account—much to my chagrin. I had gone on a shopping spree two weeks before. Why hadn’t I thought of Joe then?

As we headed toward checkout, Jared plucked an aviator’s hat with faux fur and earflaps from a display.

“Check it out.” He pulled the hat on and grinned. My heart fluttered. This was one of the moments when I remembered I was in love with him.

“It looks
fantastic
on you,” I gushed.

Jared’s smile faded. “Thanks.” He quickly took the hat off, appearing embarrassed.

Embarrassing him embarrassed me. I blushed on the spot.

“I meant for the homeless guy,” he clarified.

“Oh.” Of course he’d meant for Joe.
Jared wasn’t one to fish for compliments. “It’s great, but I can’t afford—”