Games of Fire (33 page)

“What are you doing?” she hissed, voice low.

“Making sure it’s working,” Sophie answered, feeling stupid.

Her mother sighed, rubbing the grit from her eyes with her knuckles. “Go back to bed!”

Sophie shuffled back to her room and crawled into bed. But instead of sleep, she grabbed the book off her nightstand and spent the rest of the night reading.

With the first splinter of dawn, Sophie dragged her achy body into the shower. She scrubbed the night’s events away and pulled on fresh
clothes, twisted her hair up into a ponytail and considered it a good effort.

In the kitchen, her mother and Jackie looked up from their mugs of coffee. Neither was talking, but one look around told her the boys hadn’t returned.

“Any news?” she asked.

Both women shook their heads gravely.

“Have they called at least?”

Jackie shook her head.

Her mother got to her feet, mug in hand and walked to the sink. “Get breakfast. You’ll be late for school.”

Sophie grabbed a granola
bar from the cupboard, stuffed it into her backpack and waved goodbye to her mother and Jackie. She swung her bag on and sprinted to the door just as it flew open. She squeaked, coming to a skidding halt.

Looking as exhausted as she felt, her father ambled inside. He disengaged the beeping alarm and shut the door.

Sophie tired peering around him as if expecting Spencer to be pressed right up against his back or something. “Where’s Spencer?”

Her father jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Then, without a word, ambled upstairs, zombie style.

It wasn’t raining. That was always a plus when the very idea of leaving the house was horrendous. She hurried down the driveway just as a slouched figure started up it.

“Spencer!” He raised his head and Sophie had to bite back the urge to wince.

There were black bags beneath his eyes and his hair was tussled. His face was pale, made paler still by the black shirt and jeans he wore under his jacket. He raised a hand, the effort looking painful and stiff, and swiped it back through his hair.

“Hey,” he said in greeting, his voice hoarse like he’d spent the night yelling.

“You look horrible,” she confessed. “Did you sleep at all?”

He scrubbed the heel of his hand into his brow. “Nope.” He dropped his hand and
looked her over. “Did you?”

She offered him a small smile. “I look horrible, too, eh?”

The left corner of his mouth twisted upward. “Nah, just stressed.”

He was being nice. She’d seen her reflection before she’d left. She knew what she looked like. Not as bad as him, but pretty close.

When he reached over and hooked an arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side, she happily sagged into him.

“I’d suggest we play hooky and take a nap, but
Mom’s getting the back window fixed today.”

Sophie sighed. “And my mom’s staying home.”

They started down the path towards school, neither making any real effort to lift their feet.

“How did things go with my dad last night?”

She felt his shoulder jerk beneath her head. “Fine.”

She tipped her face back to peer up at him. “He didn’t give you a hard time?”

He shook his head. “It was pretty quiet.”

Maybe it was because he was avoiding her gaze
, or maybe because she knew her father, she didn’t believe him. But they reached the school and she wasn’t given a chance to press him. He walked her to her locker, which would have been sweet if he hadn’t spent so much time peering around them as though waiting for an attack.

“I think we’re safe in the school,” she teased him, swinging her locker open.

He leaned into the locker next to hers, resting his head back, but keeping his eyes open. “We should have been safe in our homes, too.”

She couldn’t argue that point with him. If anything, the reality of it made her shudder.

Spencer took her elbow and dragged her towards him. He enfolded her in his arms, pressing her into his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into the top of her head.

She closed her eyes and tried to pretend that everything that happened was just random occurrences. Like there wasn’t really some crazy person out there watching them through patio windows
, or leaving dead animals on their doorstep. She tried to pretend that all of that happened to someone else, someone she’d read about in a book. That everything was all part of some other fictional world and not hers. Things like this didn’t happen to normal people. Did it?

“Sophie!”

Sophie drew her face out of Spencer’s chest to glance back. Behind her, Lauren, Jessie and Joe peered back at her, their faces anxious.

“Hey guys!” She forced what she hoped was a smile and not a grimace. But she wasn’t fooling anyone. One look into Jessie’s face and she knew. Her shoulder’s dropped. “Police radio?”

Joe nodded. “The police assigned to watch your house had to call in every hour.”

Sophie sighed. “I don’t know why this is happening.”

“I do,” Joe muttered, hazel eyes narrowed in on Spencer.

Against her, Spencer stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” Sophie said quickly. “Joe, stop it!”

But Joe wasn’t listening, looked ready to take on a charging bull. “Everything was fine until you showed up. You started this!”

“That’s not true!” Sophie exclaimed, turning to face her friends. “This isn’t Spencer’s fault. It happened to him, too! His mom’s car. His house—”

“No,” Spencer cut of her off, narrowed eyes fixed on Joe. “I don’t need you explaining me to
him.
”

Then, without a word to anyone or even a glance in Sophie’s direction, he stalked off.

Sophie turned to Joe. “What is your problem?”

“I don’t like him!” Joe hissed. “And I don’t trust him. The guy is bad news.” He looked to Lauren and Jessie for support. Neither met his gaze. Infuriated, he plowed on. “Am I the only one to see that all this started the minute he arrive
d? What do you know about the guy anyway? He’s good looking. Well, so are a lot of guys in prison.”

“Spencer isn’t a bad guy!” Sophie said, frustrat
ion welling up inside her. “You never even gave him a chance.”

“I already told you.” His voice had gotten dangerously low. “I don’t need to. I know guys like him. He’s going to make something really bad happen if you stick with him.”

By lunch, Sophie was ready to call it a day and go home
to sleep. Joe’s final parting words that morning buzzed through her ears like the harsh grind of a band saw. She felt relief when she reached the cafeteria to find him absent from their table. Then an instant punch of guilt struck her for feeling relief. Then annoyance at both herself and Joe.

Lauren and Jessie were there with Brian and the gang. Suddenly being there with all
of them seemed like a much bigger chore. It had been so simple before. Just the four of them together, eating, talking about wanting to be part of a bigger crowd. But now that it was happening, Sophie wanted to turn and leave.

“Sophie!” Brian waved her over, catching her before she could escape.

Sophie suppressed the urge to grimace or worse, leave anyway. She smiled and made her way over. “Hey.” She set her lunch down and squeezed in between Lauren and Becky Pay.

“Wow, you look
… ” Brian rooted for a word that wouldn’t get him smacked. “Is that a new top?”

Sophie glowered at his teasing, feeling her lips twitch. “
Ha-ha.”

“It looks nice on you!” He grinned and winked,
at which she just chuckled and shook her head. “Hey! Rowth! Over here!”

Sophie turned as Spencer stalked into the room, looking worse than she did. He ambled over to their table and, despite Maggie’s erratic waving for his attention
to the seat next to her, took the remaining spot next to Sophie, a spot normally reserved for Joe. Sophie didn’t object. She had a feeling Joe wouldn’t be coming.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said, keeping her voice low.

Spencer shook his head. “Don’t sweat it.”

“You two look like you were up partying all night,” Brian observed.

Sophie couldn’t muster the energy to answer. Spencer didn’t either. Brian gave them a smirk that said he knew exactly what they’d been doing, but didn’t press them as he turned to Roy on his other side.

“For the record,” Lauren said from Sophie’s other side. “Jess and I don’t think it’s your fault,” she told Spencer.

Spencer offered her a halfhearted smile. “Thanks.”

From Lauren’s other side, Jessie nodded, her curls nearly touching her food as she leaned around Lauren to see Spencer. “Joe’s always been super protective. I think he feels responsible
for us.”

“I have no problems with the guy,” Spencer said. “I get it. I got a little sister myself.”

Sophie wanted to touch him, but refrained. This quiet, sullen Spencer wasn’t the fun, touchy Spencer from their time alone.

“Sophie? Spencer? You guys in?”

They hadn’t heard Brian talking, or at least she hadn’t, because now even Spencer was watching her, seemingly waiting for her to respond. Sophie’s eyes widened as she glanced from her friends, to Spencer to Brian.

“What?”

“Valentine’s,” Brian said as if that was supposed to mean something to her. “The school’s throwing a huge party in the gym, but we usually have our own party at the cabin. Are you guys in?”

“Uh
… ” Unconsciously, Sophie darted a glance towards Spencer, but he was staring down at his hands. His avoidance both annoyed and confused her, propelling her to answer. “I’m in.”

“Yes!” Jessie squeaked, so excited her curls were vibrating.

Lauren snickered. “Girl, I’ve been dreaming about the cabin since the last time we were there.”

Sophie chuckled. “Then I’m totally in!”

Brian smacked the lip of the table. “Awesome!”

After lunch, Spencer caught up to her as she went to her locker to switch books.

“Do you think it’s safe?”

She turned to him, confused. “What do you mean?”

He slumped a shoulder against the locker next to hers. “Going to the cabin with that psycho on the loose?”

She traded her Math text for her Geography book. “Well, maybe the police will find him before then. There’s still a full
two and a half weeks before Valentine’s.” She slammed her locker closed and swung her bag onto her back.

“Sophie
… ” He sighed, dropping his gaze. He stayed that way for several long minutes, staring down at their feet before seemingly bracing himself and looking up. “Wait for me after school?”

Her brows furrowed. “Because you don’t want me walking home alone?”

He started to shake his head, stopped and shrugged instead. “That and because … ” He dampened his lips. “I want to talk to you about something.” Intrigued, she opened her mouth to ask what. “After school,” he said, barely suppressing a smile. “By the front doors.”

She scowled. “I hate waiting.”

He flicked her nose playfully. “Patience, Blondie.”

She poked him in the belly, making him grunt. “You’re still way blonder than I am.”

He ruffled a hand through his silky tresses, smirking at her from beneath his lashes. “But it sounds sexier on you.” With a wink, he walked away.

School refused to end. As soon as last class hit, it was as if time stopped. Every time she glanced at the clock, it was in the same place as it had been when she’d sat down. It didn’t matter that she kept telling herself that a watched clock never ticked. It took the final bell going off for her to realize it really and truly was not ticking. It was dead. She threw it a dark glower as she gathered her books and hurried after the others.

At her locker, she grabbed her things and went to wait for Spencer by the front doors. But the moment she stepped foot outside the metal doors, she knew something wasn’t right. There were students shaking off their coats and the grayish light had turned a strange shade of yellow, soft and fluffy and unexpected. It took her a moment to recognize the change.

The sun was shining. The gray wall of clouds had parted just enough to shower the soggy world with a warm halo of sunlight. It was such a novelty, students were actually standing and staring with one hand cupped over their eyes. There were still four months before the sun would
officially be visiting British Columbia so to see it now, glowing so bright and welcoming, it gave more than one person a start.

“Hey! I remember you!”

Embarrassed at being caught staring slack-jawed at the heavens, Sophie quickly snapped her mouth closed and blinked down at the figure strolling towards her.

“Sarah, right?” Why did everyone think her name was Sarah? Did she
look
like a Sarah?

“Sophie,” she corrected automatically, every muscle in her body tensing as the figure came into focus.