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Mom sighs. “At least I’m trying, Julia. I wish you’d do the same.”

I sit up, rage building. “Trying? Really? By calling me a slut? By sending me to that school? I suppose you and Dr. Weaver decided to dope me up like a zombie. Maybe you should just send me off to the mental hospital.”

Mom’s jaw tightens. The vein on her neck pulses as her hands squeeze the steering wheel. “Don’t tempt me, Julia,” she says through gritted teeth.

I gasp.

She turns toward me, her face revealing the shock I feel. “Julia, I didn’t mean that.”

I don’t say anything.

She lifts her hand to her mouth, chewing on her thumbnail. “It’s been difficult for everyone these last few months, not just you.”

“
Are you saying you wish I died?”

Her eyes pop open in horror. “No! No! Never.”

“
But if I’d died you all could have moved on and not been stuck with… me.”

“
Julia, no! I couldn’t bear it if you’d died.”

We’re silent the rest of the way home. What she said sinks in, settling into the already cracked foundation of my soul. I go straight to my room and sit on my bed. My room is the one place I feel safe, even if it’s incredibly lonely.

I pick up the picture of Monica and me. Focusing on her smiling face, I try to remember the school picnic where the photo was taken. We both had on jeans and short-sleeved t-shirts, although Monica’s was bejeweled. She’d debated for days what to wear, and I told her it didn’t matter. It was just a picnic. Turned out it did matter. It’s how I remember her now.

I set it down and wait for the tears that usually follow.

Nothing.

Maybe I really am dead and my body just doesn’t know it.

I lay down on the bed as my cell phone vibrates in my pocket and butterflies tap dance in my belly. I pull it out, knowing it can only be one person. The question is, do I want to talk to him? Compared to the nothingness, I need the rush of emotion he gives me.

I press the button. “Hello.”

“
Hey, Newbie, how was your first day at prep school?”

Reece
. I bolt upright on the bed. “How did you get this number?”

“
Calm down. It wasn’t that hard. You didn’t answer the question. How was your first day?”

“
Delightful.”

He laughs. “Did you follow the rules?”

I relax a little, laying back down. “I had a number two pencil with me at all times. Figured I could use it as a weapon if I had to. I like multipurpose items.”

“
Pretty
and
resourceful. I like it.”

I’m glad he can’t see the blush that flames my face. “I can’t always count on my looks to get me by.”

“
And there you have it. The triple threat. Brains. Tell me why you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“
Who said I don’t have a boyfriend?”

“
Because if you had a boyfriend, he would have driven you home yesterday.”

I can’t argue with that. “One benefit of alternative school is the lack of homework. You forgot to mention that gem.”

“
What? And spoil all the surprises? That would have been like telling you your Christmas present.”

“
Well, it only added to an awesome first day. Mrs. Pumpernickel sends her love.”

“
Mrs. Humperdinkle.”

“
Oh, yeah. Her too.”

He laughs, rich and wholehearted. It’s like drinking hot chocolate, warming my stomach and then spreading to the rest of me.

“
Reece, why did you get sent to the alternative school?”

“
Oh, you know. This and that. What about you?”

“
Same thing. This and that. How’d you get out?”

He laughs. “I escaped. If you’re nice to me, I’ll send you a cake with a file and map of the underground tunnels.”

“
Thanks.”

“
Talk to you later, Newbie.”

“
Bye.”

I lay there with the phone next to my ear long after he hangs up and wonder how my life got so complicated.

For once, I’m not complaining.

Chapter Fourteen

Mom insists I eat dinner with
the family
. I almost snort, like she’s made a joke. Anna asks if Mom’s heard from Dad, but she shakes her head, looking down. She pushes around the food on her plate with her fork.

I choke down a few bites then return to my room and shut the door. I lay on my bed, bored with no homework to occupy my time. It hits me that two weeks ago I hadn’t done my homework and never worried about how to fill my time.

Maybe I
am
getting better.

I find my old MP3 player tucked in my dresser drawer. It’s dead, which is no surprise since I haven’t listened to it in months. My docking station sits on my desk, slightly dusty and neglected like most everything else in my life. I hook up the player and search for a CD, one of my old favorites. Music fills the room, a dark and melancholy song, a soundtrack to my unrest.

My backpack still lies on the floor where I tossed it. I pull out my notebook and turn to the last page, only partially full of drawings. My hand resumes drawing after the R adding an E. When I start drawing a second E, chills tingle up my neck into my scalp.

Oh, my God. I’m writing
Reece
.

A rap on my door startles me and I drop the pen on the paper as the door opens. My mom’s pale, frightened face pokes through the crack. I’d never seen Mom look this scared, not even when Dad left.

“Mom?”

“
Julia, the police are here.” Her voice quivers. “They want to talk to you.”

My heart pounds so fast I’m sure it will fly out of my chest. I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed, swiping my clammy palms on my jeans. “Why?” I stumble over the word.

“
I don’t know. They wouldn’t say.”

I swallow, my brain scrambling to figure out what I could have done. Is it a crime to hide in the choir room? I don’t think so. I take a deep breath and hold it in for a several of seconds before pushing it away. I might be more oxygenated, but my anxiety still persists.

Mom opens the door. My shaky legs follow her into the living room. Anna hugs the door way to the kitchen, staring with big, wide eyes. Two uniformed police officers fill the room. One of the officer’s hands hangs on his belt, drawing my gaze to the gun at his side.

“
Julia Phillips?” asks the other officer, a tall dark haired man with a bushy mustache.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I wonder if we should call a lawyer. I wonder if Mom even knows a lawyer.

“
We’d like to ask you some questions about Evan Whittaker.”

I’m sure my eyes are popping out of my head. “
Evan?
”

The officer points to the sofa. “Why don’t we sit down?”

I’m grateful to take a seat, unsure how long my wobbly legs will hold me up. He plants in the chair across from me. The other policeman, the one with his hand on his belt, stands next to the door. Maybe he thinks I’ll try to escape.

“
Can you tell me about your relationship with Evan Whittaker?”

Mom sits next to me, eager to hear my answer.

I fold my hands in my lap, twining my fingers together. “Um…he was my tutor.”

The officer clears his throat. “Was?”

“
I changed schools today. I don’t need a tutor anymore.”

“
Did you ever notice Evan acting strange? Any change in his behavior?”

I scrunch my nose. “Strange? I hardly knew him. What do you mean by change?”

“
His friends and family say he changed over the last week. Some of his friends at school said he has gotten close to you.” He raises an eyebrow and waits for my answer.

My chest tightens and I resist the urge to take a deep breath. “Like I said, I hardly knew him. He offered to tutor me. We spent some time together after school because he helped me with three classes.” My fingers grow numb and I loosen my grip.

“
Did you do anything with him off school campus?”

“
He drove me home. That’s about it.”

He writes in his notebook and looks up. “When was the last time you saw or spoke to Evan?”

My stomach drops. “Why? What happened to him?”

“
He’s under suspicion for something we’re not at liberty to discuss. We’re trying to locate him. Have you seen or talked to him today?”

My thoughts race to seeing Evan after school. I’m not sure what he’s done, but I can’t tell them about this afternoon. The only hitch is that I have to lie to the police. I look into the officer’s stern face and my decision wavers.

Evan’s image pops into my mind, the sadness and hopefulness in his eyes earlier today. What if I’ve driven him to do something stupid? “No, I haven’t.”

The policeman’s eyes bore into mine.

I resist the impulse to squirm and meet his gaze. “We go to different schools now. I have no reason to see him.”

He hesitates then stands, holding out a business card. “If you see him or talk to him, please give us a call.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, taking the card.

He stops at the door and turns to look at Mom. “Sorry to disturb your evening, ma’am.”

She wraps her arms across her chest, griping her elbows. “That’s quite all right, officer. Good night.”

They leave through the front door and I stand, waiting for the next interrogation to begin.

“
What’s this all about, Julia?”

I roll my eyes. “Mom, you heard what I told the police. That’s all I know.”

“
Are you sure?”

I stare into her face. I can see she believes the worst about me. “What do you think I’m hiding?”

My question catches her off guard. “Well, I don’t know…”

“
He was my tutor. I no longer need a tutor because you made me change schools. What more is there to tell?”

She puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head to the side. I haven’t seen this look of exasperation in months. “Julia.”

I mimic her movement. “Are we done?”

We lock gazes for several seconds, a contest. Finally, she turns away. “Sure, run back to your room.” Her tone is snotty.

I whirl around to return to my sanctuary and slam the door. The encounter with the police bothers me, but my standoff with Mom affects me more. Maybe she blames me for Dad’s abandonment, too.

I pace, sorting out what happened. I can’t imagine what Evan could have done, what kind of trouble he could have gotten himself into. No matter how hard I try, I can’t come up with anything. Anything that warrants police involvement seems preposterous.

I sigh and drop to my bed, covering my head with the pillow. Maybe I should call Evan and find out why they’re looking for him. As I reach for the phone, it rings in my hand. I nearly jump off the bed.

Evan
.

“
Evan, what’s going on?”

“
Julia,” he whispers. “I need to see you.”

“
Evan, the police were here asking about you. What happened?”

“
What did you tell them?” The sharp edge in his voice could chisel ice.

“
Nothing. That you were my tutor. You dropped me off at my house. That’s it. I didn’t tell them we had gotten…
closer
.” It embarrasses me to bring it up, but now isn’t the time to be squeamish. “They also asked if I’d seen or talked to you today. I told them no.”

His breath rushes out. “Thank you.”

“
Evan, what’s going on?”

“
Julia, I have to see you tonight. Can meet me?”

I look at my bedroom door. There’s no way Mom will let me out, especially to see Evan. “I don’t think so. Maybe tomorrow.”

“
Please, it has to be tonight. Tomorrow will be too late.”

The words
too late
make my heart pound. “Evan, you’re scaring me. Why are the police looking for you?”

“
I promise I’ll explain it all to you when I see you.”

I hesitate. I’m already in so much trouble.

“
I’ll also tell you what I know about the bracelet.”

I bolt off the bed. “You know about the bracelet? You said you didn’t.”

There’s a momentary pause. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

My breath catches in my throat. I have to force out my words. “Why would it scare me?”

“
Julia, it’s hard to explain.”

“
Does this have anything to do with the love knots?”

He hesitates. “Yes. I’ll explain it all to you, but I need to do it in person.
Please
. I’m begging you. I have to see you one last time.”

“Evan. You’re freaking me out. Where are you going?”

“
I promise to tell you everything, but in person, not on the phone.”

“
Okay.” I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. I have no idea how to get out or the consequences I’ll face when I come back.

“
Thank you.”

“
I can’t drive. You’ll have to come get me.”

“
Okay, but not in front of your house. I’ll meet you at … the park. Go to the park and I’ll pick you up there in case the police are watching your house.”

I haven’t considered that. “Okay, I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

“
Be sure to take your cell phone in case we need to change plans. Bye.”

As I ponder how to get out the front door, it occurs to me I can’t. The bedroom window is my only option. I lock my bedroom door and leave the music playing to cover any noise. I put on an extra pair of socks, along with a fleece jacket over my long-sleeved t-shirt. After shoving my arms through the sleeves of my coat, I grab my knit scarf and hat.

The window is stiff and it takes two good jerks before I have the opening wide enough to crawl through. I’m grateful we live in a ranch style house, with a room on the first and only floor. The jump to the ground is short and I avoid getting scratched up from the bushes.

I tug the window shut and weigh my options. My room faces the back of the house. If the police are watching, they will most likely be observing the front. If I run to the neighbor’s yard behind us, I can sneak to the street in front their house and walk to the park. Hopefully, my hat and bulky coat will conceal my identity.

I’m ready to run when my conscience stops me.

Think long and hard before you do this
.

I lean against the house and review my decision. Evan’s wanted by the police, but I can’t believe he’s done anything bad. It has to be a misunderstanding. More importantly, Evan has answers to questions that no one can help me with. Can I really let him go without finding out what he knows?

In the end, it’s his leaving that seals my decision. I have no idea where he’s going, but what if he never comes back? The thought of never seeing him again opens an oozing wound in my heart. I have to see him before he leaves, even if it’s only to say goodbye.

I run straight for the neighbor’s house, thankful there’s not a fence separating our properties. Their dog is tied up to a tree and barks her outrage.

I bend down and rub her head. “Shh… Weiner. It’s me.”

She stops barking and sits, her tongue hanging out as she pants.

“
I have to go. Be a good girl and don’t bark. Okay?”

The dog nuzzles my hand and I give her head one last rub before bolting for the side of the house. Weiner whines at the loss of attention, but to my relief, doesn’t bark. I move to the front of the house, scanning the street for police. When I think it’s safe, I walk to the sidewalk and take the long way to the park. The wind is cold and I’m glad for my extra layers.

I live in a safe neighborhood but walking in the dark and hiding from police gives me the spooks. Every noise or rustle of leaves makes me jump.

Calm down, Julia. Your jumpiness is going to give you away
.

The park lies ahead, dark and foreboding. The empty swings sway in the breeze, the metal chains groaning in protest. Dried leaves sweep across the park, a sudden gust swirling them in a mini cyclone before they blow out of sight. The park’s deserted, no one in sight. When I reach the edge, I’m unsure where to go since I see no sign of Evan. I move to the massive play set and sit on one of the metal steps to the slide.

My legs grow numb with the cold as I wait for what seems an eternity. I pull out my cell phone. Sure enough, ten minutes has come and gone. Evan called twenty minutes earlier. I consider calling him but decide to wait, certain he has a good reason for not showing up yet.

A few minutes later, headlights come into view, heading toward me. I shrink into the play set, hoping to stay hidden from view. Evan’s car pulls up to the curb and idles, white smoke trailing out the tailpipe.

I run to his car and open the passenger door.

“
Get in.” His face is taut and his shoulders rigid. His white knuckles grip the wheel.

Evan pulls away from the curb before I have the door shut. “Evan, what’s going on?”

“
I have to leave. Tonight.”

“
I know, you told me that already. Why?”

He turns to me, his eyes red and teary. “Are you hungry?”

“
What?
”

“
I haven’t had anything to eat since lunch, but I’m afraid to get food anywhere, in case they find me. If I drop you off at a restaurant, will you go in and get me something to eat?”

“
Of course, but you still haven’t told me what’s going on.”

“
I know, and I will. I promise. Just do this first. Please.”

He sounds so scared and sad my heart tightens with fear. I put my hand on his arm. “I’ll do whatever I can. Just tell me what to do.”

He gives me a weak smile and reaches his hand over to cover mine. His warmth permeates my cold fingers. “I don’t know if I can leave you again,” he says, his voice cracking.

“
Then don’t. Just tell me what’s going on and I’ll help you figure out what to do.”

He releases a short laugh and squeezes my hand. “You were always so good at figuring out what to do.”

I sit in silence and try to piece together what he means. I scour my memories of the last week, searching for a moment when I helped him figure something out.