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Authors: Elissa Harris

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BOOK: M.I.N.D.
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“I look like a bat. A big, purple bat.” Lying at my feet, Oreo grunts. Obviously he agrees. I reach down to stroke his ear. The poor thing had two teeth pulled this afternoon, and he's still depressed.

“Sit back,” Leanne orders. “I'm not done.”

Leanne's depressed too, which is why I'm letting her mutilate my face. She finds it therapeutic. “I still don't still understand why you won't go,” I say. “You know you want to. He doesn't own you, Leeny.”

Later tonight, a bunch of sophomores are meeting at the fishing dock for a late-night swim. Not me, of course. Aside from the fact that I'm terrified of the river, I don't see the appeal in becoming a Popsicle. The days are warm, but it's a cool night and let's not discuss the temperature of the water. It's totally lame, but she wants to go anyway. Problem is, Josh doesn't like her doing things without him, which means my face gets mutilated a lot. In the fall, there's football. The rest of the year, he waits tables at the country club. Sure, it's commendable that a) he's a jock, and b) he has a part-time job, but his attitude? Not so commendable.

“I can't,” she says. “But
you
should go. Zack'll be there. You remember Zack, don't you? The love of your life since September? Think moonlight and stars,” she presses on. “Think two half-naked bodies shivering from the cold, huddling together by the warmth of the campfire. I heard Stephanie is out with the flu. Now's your chance to make your move.”

I picture his sun-kissed face. How adorable he looks in his baggy jeans. How much cuter he'll look soaking wet. I picture his sky-blue eyes watching me as I strip off my clothes. I picture him sitting by the fire, a trail of marshmallow goop dripping down his chin, me licking it off…

I sigh. “You also think I should get my navel pierced, but that's not going to happen either. Besides, I still feel weird about doing stuff. You know, with Amanda in a coma and all.”

Which makes me think about Ethan. Jerk. Exactly how does he think I committed the theft? Did I sneak out of my bed in the ER, or did it happen later, after they moved me to a room? Did I steal down the hallway and nonchalantly push my IV pole onto the elevator, or did I take the back stairs, riding the pole like a broom? Please. The ER is busier than the mall. I might vacate my body from time to time, but I'm not invisible.

Armed with concealer, Leanne attacks the freckles on my nose. “So you're saying it's okay if I go but not you, since I have no conscience?”

“You're going to the concert, aren't you?” I reply.

“Like I said, life goes on.” She moves down to the zit on my chin. (I knew I shouldn't have had that Snickers bar.) “Anyway, I heard they're holding a vigil for her,” she says, camouflaging the damage, “so your excuse doesn't fly. You can wear your new orange bikini.” She nods with enthusiasm.

“Maybe I should wait for my boobs to grow in. According to you, I'm psychologically damaged due to their stunted growth.”

“Will you please get over it? At the time, it was the only thing I could think of.”

“Whatever,” I say. “But I'm still not going tonight.”

“Why not? You don't have to actually go
in
the water. You just have to stand around and look cute. Besides, it's pretty calm by the dock.”

“Even if I were inclined to freeze my butt off, which I'm not, how do you propose I get there?”

She hesitates. “Fine. I'll take you. But I'm not staying. You'll have to get a ride back.”

I put down the mirror. “I still don't understand why you won't go without him. Why are you being such a doormat? You have to assert yourself, Leeny. Show some spine! Seize the night! It's time you took back control of your life. It's not like you're cheating on him. Besides, what's he going to do, take away your nose plugs?”

Her face turns the shade of my eyeliner. “What do you know anyway? For someone who's never been in a relationship, you sure have a lot of advice.”

I try another tack. One thing about Leanne, she can't resist a party. “Half the guys will probably go skinny dipping, and then there'll be a bonfire. How fun is that? Karen Miller will have her guitar, and you can do your country diva thing and everyone will be looking at you. You know how great you look in the firelight. And there'll probably be dancing, and you know you love dancing even though Josh hates it, and some of the guys will even have flasks.” Her face lights up and I quickly amend, “Hot chocolate for you, since you're driving. You can stop for marshmallows on the way.”

She pauses. “You really think I look great in the firelight?”

I can feel her fighting with herself, and I'm not even in her body. “Amazing.”

“Okay,” she says.

“For real?”

“On one condition. I'll go if
you
go. That's the deal.”

“Leeny, you know I can't—”

“Yeah, I know. You have limitations. You can't go mountain-climbing or shark-hunting. But what about just living? You're one to talk about taking control. You let your fear control your life. Show some spine, girl! Seize the night!”

Argh. Attacked by my own words. “That's so unfair! How can you blame me after what happened? I nearly drowned, Leeny.”

“What about Amanda?” she says. “Don't you want to be there for the vigil?”

Right. The vigil. Truth is, I really should be there. And so should Leanne.

“What about the warden?” I say. “It's after ten. She'll never let me go.”

“Sleep over at my house. She won't suspect a thing. You won't be lying, just omitting a few details.”

Like Leanne said, I don't have to actually go
in
the water.

I don't even have to go
near
the water.

“Fine,” I say, already regretting it.

After washing off the makeup, I change into my bikini. Then, in fear of alerting the warden, I opt for coverage instead of style: I throw on sweatpants and an oversized jersey. I stuff a towel, my toothbrush, my yellow fluffy slippers, and a change of underwear into my backpack, and sling it over my shoulder. “I'm ready,” I say, though I don't feel ready at all.

“You're not wearing
that
, are you?”

“What's the difference? It's coming off anyway.”

What am I thinking? Am I insane? The dock is just a few yards from where it happened. Just a few yards from where the boat capsized and my world changed forever.

I should probably tell her to forget it, I changed my mind, and why don't we stay here instead and make popcorn and watch a movie?

I should probably tell her, but I don't.

That new life growing inside Mrs. Lerner? I'm like that baby. It's insulated from the world, but it's also in danger of never seeing it. Well, I'm tired of living in a cocoon, tired of playing it safe. Tired of watching my life slip away.

Oh, I'm insane, all right. The river has a life of its own, and it feeds on fear. My worst fear is that it'll feed on me.

Nine

A Slippery Slope

“I counted six cars,” Leanne grumbles as I follow her down the pine-needled path. “Some party.”

I see the dock up ahead and panic. “You're right. This sucks. Let's leave.”

“After you practically dragged me here? Forget it.”

“Are you serious? You forced
me
. You said there'd be a vigil,” I say, squinting my eyes at the river.

“You said there'd be dancing.”

“So can we go home?”

She pushes ahead and I trudge after her, broken twigs and dead leaves creeping between my sandaled toes, the earth muddy beneath my feet. In the light of the moon, the water looks calm. Safe. But I know better. It's angry. Hungry. A preying black hole.

“There's not even a fire,” she grouses.

“Maybe they thought it would attract attention.”

“What would it attract out here, the fish?”

“Um, Smokey the Bear? I can't believe I let you talk me into this.”

“I had to do
something
,” she says. “You have no life.”

“And you do? Outside of the Dominator, what life is that?”

We approach the bank. Five or six giggling girls are perched on the dock as though debating whether to take the plunge. In the middle of this bikini fest, looking adorable in fish-patterned trunks and his skull-and-bones cap, Zack is acting all goofy, egging them on, holding his nose like he's about to jump in.

Leanne opens her backpack and pulls out her phone. She presses a few buttons, holds it to her ear. Presses some more, then shakes it like salt. “Crap. No reception.”

“Will you put that thing away? He's not your watchdog, Leeny.”

“You don't understand,” she says, frantically pushing buttons. “I said I was staying home tonight. What if he tries to call? He'll think I turned the phone off on purpose.”

“Fine. You have a point. Can we go home now?” I look back up the path with longing. “Crap is right,” I say. “Here comes Brendan.”

She looks up from her phone. “Unbelievable. What's he doing here? Don't tell me he's planning to speak at the vigil! Poor Amanda, lying in the hospital, practically dead. I can't believe he even showed up, considering he's the one who put her there.”

“Shh! He'll hear you!”

“So what if he does? I hope he chokes on his nose plugs and drowns. He deserves it, and I'm not just talking about Amanda. First he bulldozes into that family and kills that little girl, and then he just takes off. Who does those things?”

“Keep your voice down,” I warn, looking furtively around. “It's just a theory, remember?” But even in my own ears, I sound unconvinced. As he approaches, my pulse speeds up. Just watching that cocky swagger makes me want to bolt.

“'Sup?” he says, flashing his big fake smile.

“Same old,” I murmur.

Ignoring him, Leanne goes back to fiddling with her phone.

“Problem?” he asks.

“Nothing that would concern you,” she says.

He yanks his cell from his pocket. “Here, use mine.” He taps the screen, but nothing happens. He taps harder, three times in a row.

“Moron,” she says.

“Leanne!” a voice booms.

“Crap again,” Leanne says, and my gaze follows hers. Josh is charging down the path. “I
knew
he'd find out I was here.” She unties the knot at her midriff and smoothes down her T-shirt. “I gotta go,” she mutters, and rushes off to meet him.

I know exactly how it's going to play out. First they'll argue and then she'll break into tears. She'll swear it's over and wish him death by pestilence. I'll hold her hand when she starts crying all over again, listen to her moan till she's all moaned out. Then they'll make up and all will be forgotten, except I'll feel like I've been up all night cramming for finals and she'll be mad at me for calling him names, which I'd never do, not to his face.

“I'd better go after her,” I mumble to Brendan.

“She's a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

She always does this, I think irritably. He throws her a crumb and she ditches me. What happened to that unwritten rule that you're not supposed to put aside your friends for your love life? (No, I would
not
have sat next to Zack on the bus to Hartford, I swear!)

“You planning on swimming in your clothes?” Brendan asks. Perv. He's simultaneously stripping out of his jeans and T-shirt while staring at me like he can see through my top. “Come on, what are you waiting for?”

“Maybe later,” I say. Uh, I don't think so. I hear someone screech and I turn my head. A few vague brave souls are bobbing in the water, but I'd recognize Vardina's cheerleader's squeal anywhere. Howling like a coyote, Zack cannonballs off the far end of the dock, and I have to wonder, jealously, which of the girls he asked to hold on to his cap. He swims toward the bank, his usually messy hair plastered to his head, his broad shoulders glistening in the moonlight as they glide in and out of the water.

“You're afraid,” Brendan says, his voice surprisingly soft.

“No, of course not,” I say, my eyes still on Zack. “I'm just biding my time. I like to make an entrance.”

“Uh-huh.”

I turn to look at him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It's okay,” he says. “I know why you're the way you are. I know what happened when you were a kid. Everyone does. I just hate to see you missing out.” He reaches in his backpack and pulls out a flask. “I have just the thing to take the edge off.”

“No, thanks,” I say stiffly.

I don't want to be here talking to him. I don't want to be here at all. But what can I do? Where can I go? I can't barge in on Leanne and Josh, and I'm so not going in the water, even on the off chance that Zack might finally start wondering where I've been all his life. As for joining the others on the dock, forget it. Let's just say that they're on the A-list while I'm dangling at the end of the alphabet.

Brendan takes a long haul from the flask, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You know, I've been watching you for a while now.”

“Why? Are you hoping I'll go off like a rocket? You like to watch freak shows?” My face heats up. I can't believe I said that.

“Hey,” he says, putting on a wounded face, “I'm just trying to imagine how you'd look wet.”

“Really,” I say with disgust. “Didn't you forget something?”

He gives me a blank look.

“Amanda. Your girlfriend who's in the hospital?”

“Yeah, well, she's not my girlfriend. We broke up.”

“And when exactly did this happen? Before or after she went unconscious?” This is high school. If they'd broken up, word would have spread faster than mono.

He hesitates. “Officially? Just before. On the bus to Hartford.”

“What do you mean, officially?”

“Why the questions, Spass?” He gives me that smug smile that makes me want to punch him. “You cruising for a boyfriend?”

Yeah, right. I'd rather choke on my own vomit. “I'm just curious,” I say, trying to sound casual. “I'm trying to figure out why she freaked out.”

He stares at me, unblinking. “Since you're asking, we were in a fight. She told you all this on the bus. You saying you still don't remember?”

“How would you know what she said to me?”

“Hey, I'm just guessing. What else would she talk to you about?”

Good question. Maybe the art of joyriding? “Is that why you texted her from the back of the bus? To make it official? Seems to me it was official when she ran up the aisle and called you an asshole.”

He shrugs. “You saw the way she was. I was worried about her.”

Worried about her, or worried she would talk?

I look back at the river. Zack is flexing his pecs. Vardina lets out a wolf whistle and he laughs, the sound resonating in my ears like wind chimes.

“Can you believe that clown?” Brendan says. “Thinks he's a chick magnet. Ha. Make that a chick
maggot
.”

Jealous much? Zack's around the same height as Brendan but a lot more muscular. I'm wondering how I can get him to notice me when Brendan shoves the flask in my face and says, “Here, take it. You look like you could use some liquid courage.”

I do? Why? Is my aquaphobia showing? Do I have some bizarre inflammation? Or maybe he's talking about my pathetic crush on Zack. If Brendan knows, who else knows? Besides Leanne, I mean. And Josh by osmosis. And let's not forget Stephanie. Omigod, does the whole school know? I let out an involuntary groan.

“You're cold,” Brendan says. “Go on, take a swig. It'll warm you up.”

Looking like a drenched mop, Vardina runs out of the water. I can't help but wonder about the cuts on her legs, though I doubt if anyone can see them in the moonlight. “Which one of you morons put the frog in my towel?” she shrieks, and the guys in the water start jeering. “Ribbit, ribbit!” Zack calls back. The frogman, perchance? Wishing Brendan would turn into a frog himself, I watch as everyone vacates the river, like turtles crawling out of the sea. Everyone but Zack, who's still splashing around in the water.

Then it hits me. He's all alone.

This is my chance. I should I go talk to him. Should I? I'm definitely going to talk to him. Okay, here I go. Any second now…

I can't decide which is scarier, confronting the river or hitting on Zack.

I look back at Brendan, specifically at his flask.

What the hell, I think. I could sure use a perk. I'm tired. Tired of worrying about Leanne, tired of stressing about Amanda. Tired of waiting for Zack to make the first move.

Liquid courage, Brendan called it. I'll need all the courage I can get.

I grab the flask and take a sip. It burns the back of my throat and I cough. For all I know it could be turpentine. Can you tell I'm not much of a boozer?

I take another swallow.

I hiccup.

What can I say? I'm a cheap date. At least I would be, if I ever had one.

I throw down my backpack and kick off my sandals. Step out of my sweatpants, strip off my shirt. “I'm ready for my entrance,” I tell Brendan, and even though the thought of touching him makes my skin crawl, I take his arm. I glance back at Zack, hoping he's watching. A little jealousy can go a long way. Trust me, I know. I feel it whenever he's within two feet of another girl. “But I'm not jumping off the dock,” I say. No flask can give me that much courage.

My hand in a death grip on Brendan's arm, I inch down the slope to the edge of the water. I take a deep breath. I can't believe I'm doing this. He steps in first and I stick in a toe. Not so easy, considering how when you move just one, all the others try to follow. Then I stick in my entire foot. Well, not the entire thing, just short of my heel. I take another breath and dip up to my ankle. This isn't so bad, I think. Just cold. It's not like I have to submerge my whole body, not even a whole leg. Tentatively, I stick in my other foot.

“Hey, Spass!” Zack calls out, splashing his way toward me.

Spass
. Coming from him, it stings even more.

I tell myself he's just keeping things light. Like my switshetshela is no big deal. Isn't that what I want him to think? What I want them all to think?

“Wahoo!” he shouts, sending a rogue wave flying over my thigh.

I tell myself he's just being playful, but I step back anyway.

“Knock it off!” Brendan yells. “Can't you see she doesn't like it?”

On the one hand, I'm hoping Zack doesn't stop. This is the closest thing to a physical encounter we've had since our quasi make-out session in the cafeteria. On the other hand, I'd rather face a den of rattlesnakes than deal with the river. Another assault slams against my hip. I freeze on the spot and it's not from the cold.

“Are you deaf or just stupid?” Brendan yells. “Didn't your mother ever teach you how to treat a lady?”

“Like you're the expert,” Zack says, moving closer to the bank. “What are you doing with that creep, Spass? The guy's a prick. Just ask Amanda. Oops, I forgot. You can't. She's in a coma.” He glares at Brendan. “And you're the one who put her there. You and your crap.”

“Shut up, dickhead,” Brendan says. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Yeah? I know a helluva lot more than you think. Like how often Daddy has to pull out his wallet to save your sorry ass. Poor little rich boy, one more screw-up and it's military school for you. Still using windows for target practice?”

I shoot Brendan a questioning look.

“I said shut up,” he snarls. “I'm warning you, Wasserman—”

“Oh, I know plenty,” Zack says. “Who do you think Amanda called whenever you were too wasted to pay attention? Who do you think she ran to?”

Brendan smirks. “The guy's delusional. He's been sniffing around Amanda all year. You're a joke, Wasserman. Did you really think she'd go for a dipshit like you?” His face hardens. “Take a hike, man. Don't make me have to tell you again.”

“Ooh, I'm shaking,” Zack says in a girly voice. “What are you going to do, hit me?” He shoves his palm against Brendan's shoulder. “Come on, tough guy, what are you waiting for?” He pushes harder. “What's the matter, pretty boy? Afraid I'll mess up your face?”

“Maybe we should go,” I say to Brendan. I step out of the water. Why is Zack provoking him? Sure, I've always known he's a bit of a bad boy—it's part of his charm—but is the love of my life a bully?

Brendan clenches his fist.

He doesn't move.

It's just the three of us. Everyone else is further along the bank, safe and snug in their towels. Would I be too much of a wimp if I called out for help?

“Just like I thought,” Zack sneers. “No balls. If you had any, you never would have let your girlfriend hook up with another guy. Remember the carnival? No, maybe not. You were blitzed off your mind. No one likes a mean doper, Marsh. Guess who was there for her when she ditched you?”

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