Nightstruck (11 page)

The cold was starting to get to me, and I was hovering on the edge of panic. There was nothing more I could do while standing out here staring at the railing, so I somehow managed to gather myself enough to make my way home.

 

CHAPTER NINE

Once home, I made myself a big mug of hot cocoa in the vain hope that it would somehow soothe me. I was spooked enough that I seriously considered adding a splash or three of something from Dad's liquor stash, but my head was feeling swimmy enough already.

I kept looking back and forth at all the photos I'd taken. All the photos that looked pretty much exactly the same, and with about as boring a subject as you could ever hope to see. If I was going crazy, or if it was all some hallucination caused by a brain tumor, wouldn't the nighttime photo look identical to the real thing?

Somewhere in the midst of my brooding and staring, I realized I had moved past the stage of wanting to keep the weirdness in my life a secret. Whatever was happening, whether it was something going terribly wrong with me or terribly wrong with the city, I wanted to know. And until I had outside confirmation one way or another, I would keep bouncing back and forth between being convinced I was crazy and being convinced Philadelphia had entered the Twilight Zone.

I found myself constantly looking at my watch, willing Dad to get home at a semi-reasonable hour just once, but that was wishful thinking. If only the photo had turned out … At least then I'd have been able to share it with Piper and talk this whole thing over with her on the phone while I waited for Dad. My stomach was churning, and my head felt all thick and achy with anxiety. I couldn't sit still, and I couldn't come close to concentrating well enough to do my homework.

I wanted to know the truth about that stupid railing so badly that I briefly revisited the idea of stopping some stranger on the street to ask them what they saw. Then I wondered why it had to be a stranger.

I knew most of my neighbors by name, and I went through them one by one, considering who was most likely to be home, who was most likely to help me, and who was most likely not to haul me straight to the hospital if it turned out the phallic symbol was all a figment of my imagination.

Which all sounds very logical and methodical, but I knew before I even started the process that there was one person and one person only I could even
consider
approaching. Even if the thought of picking up the phone and calling him out of the blue—or worse, knocking on his door—made me want to dive under my bed and hide.

I had found the nerve to call Luke exactly once, when I'd invited him to my birthday party. I'd come really close to chickening out, sure he was going to laugh at me (behind my back, not to my face, because he was too nice to do that), because I knew I was going to be my usual inarticulate self the moment I heard his voice. Also, I was sure he was going to say thanks but no thanks.

My invitation had been as clumsy and awkward and generally embarrassing as I'd expected, but he had shocked the hell out of me by saying yes.

Of course, asking him to come to my birthday party, especially when it was being held about thirty feet from his back door, was different from asking him to come with me and confirm whether I was a lunatic or not. I didn't think I could face the latter conversation, so I came up with a cover story.

I called Luke's number before I gave myself time to think about it any longer. The phone rang three times, and I suppressed a groan as I remembered it was Friday night. Luke and Piper were probably out on a date somewhere. It was silly of me to expect him to be home.

I lowered the phone and was millimeters from hitting the Off button when suddenly Luke's voice said, “Hello?”

I jerked the phone back up to my face so fast I dropped it, my hands suddenly sweaty. I winced as it clattered on the floor; then I snatched it up and prayed I hadn't just broken it.

“Hello? Luke? Are you still there?”

“I'm here,” he answered with a little chuckle. “Everything all right over there?”

I was glad he couldn't see me, because I was sure my face was bright red. He must have thought I was totally spaztastic. “Um, yeah. Fine. I just dropped the phone.”

Because I'm a total klutz and lose all hand–eye and brain–mouth coordination whenever I talk to you.

There was a momentary pause. “Seriously, are you all right? You sound kind of … I don't know, freaked out?”

I let out a slow, silent breath. I reminded myself that I'd spent an entire car ride sitting in the front seat with Luke while Piper was passed out in the back, and I had managed it without making a total fool of myself. I'd felt almost at ease with Luke by the end of the ride, and I tried to call up that feeling now.

“Well, I guess I kind of am,” I said, truthfully enough, before I launched into my mostly untrue explanation. “Nothing's wrong. It's just, I have to pick up some stuff at the store, and my dad says there's been a serious crime spree going on lately. I'm sure I'm overreacting, but I really don't want to go out alone at night after some of the stuff he's been telling me. I'd take Bob, but he can't go into the store with me, so I was wondering…”

My voice trailed off because I felt like such an idiot. I may be a cautious city girl, and I may pay extra attention when I walk around alone at night, but I wasn't even remotely scared to walk two blocks to the grocery store. Luke probably thought I was a pathetic wimp, and I wondered how I'd ever managed to convince myself this was a good cover story.

But if Luke thought my request was weird, he did a great job of hiding it. He didn't hesitate even a little bit before he said, “Sure, I'll go with you. I'm sure there's something we're low on around here. There always is. I'll be right over. If you're ready to go now, that is.”

There was a strange, fluttery feeling in my chest. I couldn't tell if it was panic or excitement or a little of both. I instantly scolded myself for the excitement, if that's what it was, because Luke was just being nice and walking me to the store. It wasn't like I'd just asked him out on a date or anything. So my palms were sweating and my pulse was thumping
entirely
because I was worried about what he would see when we passed the railing in question. Absolutely, definitely the only reason.

“Thanks so much,” I said in a rush of breath. “I feel like such a chicken asking, but—”

He made a short, dismissive sound. “You're not a chicken. You're just being practical. I saw on the news tonight that a woman was jumped in a parking lot not three blocks from here. I wouldn't let my
mom
walk to the store alone at night right now.”

I suppressed a shiver. Dad had talked about the crime spree in very basic terms, and I hadn't asked for details. I certainly hadn't realized anything had happened that close to our home, though Dad had said it was happening all over the city. Maybe asking Luke to walk with me to the grocery store wasn't such a bad idea after all. If I'd actually needed to go to the grocery store, that is.

“Thanks again,” I said. “I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. See you in a few.”

*   *   *

I bundled up and took one more look at the photos on my phone as I waited for Luke to arrive. Those photos remained stubbornly the same, the railing appearing identical both day and night. I might be going nuts, but it seemed I was at least
consistently
nuts.

I shoved the phone into my pocket when Luke knocked at the door. Bob barked loudly enough to rattle the windows, running to the door and preparing to rip the potential intruder's throat out.

“Bob!” I shouted over the racket he was making. “At ease!”

When my dad gave that command, Bob would shut up practically midbark and politely move aside so that Dad could get the door. With me, the response time was considerably slower, and he stayed parked in front of the door, so I had to shove him out of the way.

“Sit,” I ordered him sternly.

He parked his butt down obediently, looking up at me with wide, innocent eyes. His tail thumped against the floor, and he wasn't snarling, but his neck hair was still suspiciously fluffy looking.

“It's just Luke,” I explained, as if I thought Bob would understand me. “You know Luke. The guy who gives you Milk-Bones?”

For whatever reason, Bob had never warmed to Luke, always watching him suspiciously whenever they were out in the courtyard together. Dad had Luke give Bob treats in an effort to foster good will, a tactic that met with mild success. Bob still didn't seem to
like
Luke, but he tolerated him.

I checked through the peephole to make sure it really was Luke before I opened the door. He gave me a lopsided grin and held out his hand, showing me the Milk-Bone in his palm. “I came prepared with a peace offering for the man of the house,” he said.

I gave a little snort of laughter and opened the door wider. Luke might not be Bob's favorite person, but a little bribery went a long way.

Bob's tail thumped louder on the floor, his ears perking forward, his eyes fixed on the treat in Luke's outstretched hand. A thin whine rose from his throat, and he leaned forward eagerly, but he waited for me to give him permission before he stood up and swept the Milk-Bone off of Luke's palm.

“Good boy,” Luke said, giving Bob a quick scratch behind the ear. “We're best friends now, right?”

Bob licked his chops, and I could almost hear him saying,
Sure, we're friends, as long as you give me another treat in the next five seconds.

Belatedly, I noticed that Luke was carrying an empty grocery bag. Because, duh, he thought we were going to the grocery store.

“I'll be right back,” I told him, then darted to the kitchen to grab a bag. If Luke saw the railing and saw nothing but a fleur-de-lis, I would just have to go through with the grocery shopping charade and try to act natural.

I gave Bob a pat on the head on my way out, then locked up and tried to keep myself relatively calm. Which was a pretty tough challenge when Luke was around, even when I wasn't fearing for my own sanity.

“Sorry about Bob,” I said, because I felt the need to say something and it was the only thing that came to mind.

“Don't be,” Luke said as we started off toward the grocery store. “You don't want a wuss for a watchdog. He's just doing his job.”

There was a reason I had such a crush on Luke, and it wasn't just because he was hot.

“You have your own supply of Milk-Bones now?” I asked.

Luke smiled. “Your dad gave me a box so I could always be prepared.”

I tried to think of something else to say, some way to make conversation, but I sucked at small talk, and the knots in my stomach were making it hard to think.

What if Luke didn't see what I saw? That would have to mean I was going crazy, right? I knew without a doubt that I was totally going to freak out if he didn't see it, but even if I was bound for the loony bin tomorrow I didn't want to have a meltdown in front of Luke. I could just imagine trying to explain that I'd asked him to come with me to the store to show him the penis-shaped thing on the railing but that, oops, I seemed to be the only one who could see it. I would never be able to look him in the face again. Assuming they ever let me out of the padded cell.

Remember, it could be a brain tumor,
I reminded myself. Because that prospect was so much more appealing than being insane.

My palms were sweating inside my gloves, and I was gnawing on my lip. I risked a quick glance at Luke, wondering what he was thinking. Did he think my lack of conversation was rude, or just awkward? And could he tell just by looking at me that I was a bundle of raw nerves?

Of course he caught me looking, which sent a flush of embarrassment to my face. I wished I had Piper's self-confidence, her gift for making easy conversation. Not to mention her looks. If I were anything like Piper, I would laugh it off if a guy caught me staring at him, instead of blushing beet red and wishing the sidewalk would open up and swallow me.

“Why aren't you out with Piper tonight?” I found myself blurting. Because I had all the subtlety and tact of a charging rhino.

His jaw clenched, and he looked straight ahead. “She's been acting weird lately. Really pushy, even for her.”

I hadn't talked to her much since she'd been suspended, but I had to admit something had felt a bit off each time I had. Like I only had about a third of her attention. And she'd more than once suggested I skip school to spend the day with her, something she had to know I would never do. She kept trying to convince me it wouldn't be that big a deal. This from the girl who'd tried to switch shirts with me not that long ago because she understood that getting a detention was a big deal to me. I just didn't get it.

“Should I ask what she was pushing you to do, or do I not want to know?” I asked.
Or is it none of my business,
I added silently.

“She's at a rave tonight. I'm okay with sneaking into bars once in a while, but I'm not into the rave scene.”

I wouldn't have thought Piper was, either. I mean, sure, she was a little wild, and she obviously loved to drink. I wouldn't have been surprised to learn she'd tried pot, or maybe even X, in a controlled environment. Still, she'd always seemed to have a spirit of self-preservation—for instance, making sure she had a conscientious guy like Luke around to do the driving when she was totally shitfaced.

We walked in silence for a few moments. We were nearing the corner, and soon we would be turning it and the railing would come into view. My pulse rose a notch.

“Should I have gone with her?” Luke asked softly. “Just to watch over her, I mean?”

I had to pull my head out of my own butt to make sense of what Luke was asking me. I blinked at him in surprise, seeing that he really wanted to know my opinion. I guess he felt bad about putting his foot down.