Freaks of Greenfield High (25 page)

That would mean telling how he felt for real. And he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

He rummaged in his bag for his packed lunch and unwrapped a bologna sandwich. He choked down a single bite, then gave up and packed it away again. He ignored the sticky, grungy tabletop, and laid his aching head atop his arms, tuning out the rest of the world.

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped at the sheer unexpectedness of the touch. His head jerked up and his wild-eyed gaze met Jay’s electric blue one.

“May I join you, Tyler? Please?”

“Uh. Sure!” His heart tripped and that warm feeling he got whenever she looked his way infected his brain, driving away all good sense. He shook it off, tore his gaze from her face, even managed a shrug. “Whatever.”

She slid into the chair next to him and maneuvered it sideways until she sat angled toward him. Even though Tyler kept his gaze strictly front and center, he knew she was watching him intently. He felt it—felt
her
, her closeness. Her need.

“What do you want?” he finally asked, unable to bear the silence any more. He thought his voice sounded strange, hoped it didn’t sound laden with all the hurt he was trying so desperately to hide. But if he hadn’t pulled it off, he hoped she didn’t notice.

Shit. Who was he trying to kid? This was Jay. Of course she would notice. Hopefully, she would be too polite to acknowledge it.

“I want to ask you a favor,” she said.

Oh no. No way. He opened his mouth and a bunch of crap he didn’t mean spewed out. “Sure. Anything. We’re friends, right? And friends do favors for each other.”

“Are we friends, Tyler?”

He slanted her a quick, assessing glance. Huh. Just as he’d thought. It was a sincere question. And it deserved a sincere answer.

“Sure.” He scraped a piece of dried food from the surface of the table and flicked it away with his fingernail. “Sure we are.”

“Mmmm. I might not be human, and I might not know all there is to know about friendship, but somehow I doubt we
are
friends.”

God, she sounded sad. He dared examine her face. And he didn’t turn away, not even when he spotted the hope lighting her eyes—hope that he was going to dash to itty bitty irretrievable pieces, because he couldn’t bring himself to be completely honest with her.

He could hardly tell Jay that he really liked her—maybe even more than liked. Not that he could possibly know what love felt like, ’cause he’d only recently turned seventeen. But if love was feeling like total crap when Jay wasn’t around, if it was feeling like his entire world brightened when he caught the merest glimpse of her in a hallway, if it was feeling as though he wasn’t truly complete without her, then—

OMFG. He couldn’t be.

“Are you all right, Tyler? Is something wrong?”

He tensed all his muscles to keep from shaking. “No! And of course we’re friends, Jay. What else could we be?”

What else, indeed.

“You’ve sure got a crap way of showing it,” she muttered.

“What did you say?” She’d sounded so human, so almost Emma-ish, that he couldn’t quite credit his ears. Maybe a bit of Em’s smart mouth was rubbing off on Jay.

Horrible thought. He suppressed a shudder.

“Nothing,” she said. “Look, Tyler, I’m planning on leaving soon because of—” She seemed to recollect she was in a public place and bit her lip. “You know why. But before I take off, I wanted to throw a party—a farewell party. Caro’s idea, of course.”

He snorted. “Of course. Any excuse for a party. But won’t that be dangerous? I mean, if these people are looking for you, wouldn’t it be better to just disappear in the dead of night?”

She grinned. And her expression was so mischievous, so
normal
, it warmed him and almost made him forget what she was.

But not quite.

“That’s the beauty of Caro’s plan,” she said.

“My sister actually came up with a plan? Whoa. Frame it and hang it on the wall. Wonders will never cease.”

Jay gave a bark of surprised laughter. “I’ve missed your way with words, Tyler.” Some of her joy seemed to dim as she swept her gaze over him. “I’ve missed you.”

“Oh, come on.” He tried for a scoffing tone. He thought he pretty much pulled it off, too. “We’ve only known each other for a short time. And it’s not like we were dating or anything. It’s not like we—” he curled his fingers into little pretend speech marks “—
broke
up
.”

“Seems that way to me. You go out of your way to avoid me, you barely speak to me at all, you won’t look me in the eye.” She tapped her temple with a forefinger. “Classic after break-up behavior, according to my databases. And haven’t you heard the gossip around school?”

“I refuse to listen to gossip,” he said.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah. Riiight.”

Whoa, she really was beginning to sound like both Caro
and
Em. “Fine. What gossip?”

“Thought you didn’t—”

“What. Gossip?”

She smirked. Actually smirked! “You really sure—?”

“Spill,” he said.

“You asked for it. Word is, you really
did
convince me to blow you in the boys’ bathroom. And I was totally into you, but you’re just, like, a coldhearted a-hole who doesn’t give a crap about me now you’ve gotten what you wanted. So you’ve given me the brush-off. And now I’m pining. ’Cause you’re, like, sooo totally hot, I’m just gutted and I can’t get over you.” She scratched her head, frowning. “Did I get it right? Uh, yeah, that was it. Kinda.”

His jaw dropped. “You have got to be freaking kidding me.”

Jay’s mouth curled into a smug smirk. “Yep.”

He couldn’t help his burst of laughter. “You got me good. That was totally Caro-worthy.”

“Yep. Your sister has definitely been influencing me—in a good way, I hope. Evidently I don’t sound quite so nerdy and uptight, now. Did I really sound uptight before?”

He bit his lip, trying not to smile. “A little. You were a bit too, um,
polite
before. But I didn’t think too much of it until I found out, uh—”

“What I am?”

“Yeah. What you are.”

“Mmmm.” She gnawed on her lower lip, processing that statement. “Well, I’m hoping what I’ve learned will help me integrate myself into human society a bit more efficiently next time.”

Next time. His heart plummeted to his toes. He didn’t want to think about her finding another home. Another school. Another boyfriend.

He pretended to fumble in his bag for a non-existent something. God. He really had it bad. When he’d composed himself, he asked, “What was that favor you wanted?”

“I’m having the farewell party at my place tomorrow night. Cover story is my uncle’s rung from out-of-state to say he’s had a job offer that’s too good to turn down. So he’s staying on to finalize the arrangements while I—”

“Throw a huge party and trash the joint? Sounds like something Caro would come up with.”

Jay snorted. Another of those very human mannerisms. “I was going to say, while I pack up and arrange to fly out and meet him,” she said. “I thought it was a pretty sound plan, actually. Believe me, Tyler, it won’t be long before the people after me come sniffing ’round, asking about me. And let’s just say, some kid throwing a farewell party while her uncle is out of town, isn’t quite so suspect as a kid who disappears without trace in the middle of the night and sets the entire town fluttering with dire predictions about her demise. Throwing a party is hardly something a cyborg would be likely to do, is it? With any luck my pursuers will arrive in Snapperton, immediately verify I’m not here and leave without bothering anyone.”

“Here’s hoping. Not that I’d tell them anything, anyway.”

She reached over and squeezed his hand. And kept hold of it. “If they ask, just tell them the truth.”

“And what truth would that be?”

“That you don’t know where I’ve gone. Don’t volunteer any other information. And for your own safety, don’t admit you know what I am.”

A chill stroked his spine. This wasn’t some game. This was real. And things could get nasty. “I’ll be okay. I’m a pretty good actor.”

“Yeah,” she said. “You are. And you fool most people, too. But beneath that I-don’t-give-a-crap façade, there’s someone I care about very much. So please, if you spot any strangers asking questions about me, keep a low profile. Be safe, Tyler. Promise me?”

“I will.” He felt himself flushing beneath her concerned gaze. He’d never had much of a problem with blushing until she showed up. “About that favor,” he said, as much to distract himself as her.

“Oh yeah. The favor. So, I’m having this party Saturday.”

“Yeah, I kinda got that,” he said.

“And I’d kinda like you to come. As my date.”

The dust-smothered truck jolted over a wicked pothole, causing Michael to bounce off his seat and whack his head on the roof. He let loose with a vicious tirade that was completely out of proportion to the relatively minor pain. He only swore when he was worried. And he was far more concerned about this little escapade than he should have been.

He rumbled to a halt outside one of Snapperton’s two motels, this one on the very outskirts of the town. From habit, his gaze flickered about, gauging potential threats without seeming to show any undue interest in his surroundings. He forced himself to relax. This wasn’t a retrieval. Hell, it wasn’t even a sanctioned operation. No one knew he was here.

At least, Michael hoped no one knew.

He climbed down from the truck and paused to stretch out the kinks in his back before reaching in to grab his bags.

When he was halfway to the motel’s reception area, reality smacked him so damned hard he rocked back on his heels. It was just as he remembered it. The sign still proclaimed “
Snapp to M tel
”. He recalled that the missing letters had been painted in at one stage, but the paint had soon flaked and peeled. The motel’s frontage was still a listless blue, teetering on the edge of shabbiness and crying out for a decent lick of paint. The garden still needed a few more shrubs to fill in holes where plants had died off and been yanked out, but not replaced. Even the outside lights illuminating the reception area still buzzed like ravenous mosquitoes.

Sure as eggs, the interior of each room would be clean and neat as a pin, though. And any guest with a hankering for some hearty home-style cooking, could still wander on over to the on-site café and be served with the best damned pie they’d ever tasted.

And the worst damned coffee, too.

About ten years ago, he and Marissa had farmed the kids out to friends and stayed the night here. They’d been so hard up they hadn’t been able to afford anywhere more fancy but they hadn’t cared. And Marissa….

Michael smiled at the memory his wife picking up the phone and coercing I-don’t-do-room-service-Earl into bringing them an entire apple pie, a carton of ice cream and two spoons. One kiss on the cheek and that sunny smile of hers, and she’d had the motel owner wrapped around her little finger. After she’d shooed Earl out the door, they’d lounged in bed and scoffed the lot. It’d been one of the best nights of his life.

He shook his head in wonderment. He’d bet his next slice of apple pie when he walked inside, Earl would still be lounging with feet up on his desk, popping gum, one eye on the door and the other on his portable TV.

He pushed open the door.

Yep. Earl was still manning the desk. He looked just the same as Michael remembered, beer belly, comb-over and all. Seemed nothing in Snapperton had changed.

Except for him.

He doubted even Marissa or the kids would recognize him now. Amazing what a shaved head, fake glasses and a thick, droopy moustache could do for a man. And not necessarily in a good way.

Earl tore his gaze away from the small television and wadded his gum into his cheek with his tongue. “Help ya?”

“I’d like a room, please.”

“How long you staying?”

“Couple of days.”

“Yeah?” Earl cut his beady little eyes from Michael’s faded jeans and worn boots, to his laptop bag. “Got some important business in our fair town, huh?” He sniggered at his own pathetic joke.

“Didn’t want to leave this in the truck,” Michael said, brandishing the laptop bag in an embarrassed fashion. “Boss’ll make me pay for it if it gets swiped. I’m just passing through on my way back from a sales conference. Figured I’d try and catch up with some old drinking buddies I haven’t seen in a few years. Know any good places round here?”

Earl leaned forward and beckoned Michael closer. “Don’t let the Missus hear me telling you this, but I might be able to direct you to a particular establishment that’d make your hair curl. Whoooweee!” He fanned his face.