Panic (18 page)

“Where does he go?”

“He keeps going back to the mall, I guess hoping the man who took Diamond will come back. Shasta told me the mall had received complaints about a strange, unshaven man who stares at folks like they're guilty of something,” Mercedes told her.

“I can't believe it's been four whole days and we have no clues, no word—nothing,” Steve said.

“On TV they said the longer someone is missing, the less likely it is to find them . . . That freaks me out,” Layla said.

“Yeah, well, I gotta believe she's alive and will come back to us somehow. I just gotta.” Mercedes shifted her backpack.

“Give it here,” Steve said, putting it over his shoulder. “Man, this thing weighs a ton! And hey, nice 'fit today, Layla. What did you do—clean out the yellow section in your closet? I gotta get out my shades to combat the shine you're bouncing.”

“I feel bad that I'm so happy, when Diamond is still missing,” Layla said, smoothing the edge of the black turtleneck under her shimmery top. A black sparkled butterfly seemed to flutter in the center of her shirt as she moved.

“That butterfly looks like it's about to land in a plate of butter,” Mercedes teased her. “What's up with you?”

“Lots of good stuff. Me and Donny are
so
straight,
so
good,
so
tight.” Her eyes glistened, and she did a tiny elevé, almost standing on her toes.

Mercedes waited patiently. “Go on.”

“And my father is coming home! Yellow is his favorite color.”

“That explains it. Hey, that's great! It's been a long time.” Mercedes didn't mention that she'd already heard the news.

“Way too long. I'm kinda nervous.”

“It'll be easier than you think—don't worry. So, where
is
Donny this morning? And what did he do to make you flitter like that bug on your shirt?”

Layla shook her head. “Oh, Donny never comes to first bell. But he'll be here soon. He just texted me.”

“You still didn't tell me how he made you so happy.”

“He told me he loved me. He loves me!” She twirled happily, nearly bumping into Justin, who had just walked up.

“Why do they make us wait out here like a herd of animals?” Justin complained. “If they just let us go to our lockers when we get to school, they wouldn't have to worry about crowd control.”

“That's your key word—control,” Steve reasoned. “They think they gotta keep us corralled or something. But isn't it way past time for the bell? What's going on?”

Mercedes checked her watch. “You're right. It's almost nine o'clock!”

Zizi appeared from nowhere and squeezed between Layla and Justin. “Oh my God! Guess what I just heard?” she announced breathlessly.

“If there's drama, you know about it,” Mercedes said.

“The reason they're keeping us out here is because there is an escaped criminal with a
bomb
in the school!”

“Oh, be for real,” Layla said.

“No, seriously. I saw cop cars out front, and bomb-sniffing dogs!”

“Maybe they were drug-sniffing dogs,” Steve offered. “I can bet you big money that we have more drugs than bombs in this school.”

“Don't they do random drug sweeps every once in a while?” Layla asked.

“Yeah, and they never find anything. The druggies know how to hide their stuff,” Mercedes said in disgust.

Just then the school PA system trilled. Everyone quieted to listen to the principal give the announcement.

“Good morning, students. Please pardon our delay in starting school today. Our health team has been given a mandate to check the building for ants and termites. Yes, I know. This could have been done after school hours, but we have to follow orders from the central office. This shouldn't take long, so relax and enjoy the time. We will probably cancel first bell completely and start our day with bell two. For now, I'm going to play some music to keep you mellow while you wait. Have a great day.”

“Seriously?” Zizi asked, her hands on her hips. “Bugs? Bombs would have been way more interesting! Besides,
bugs make me itch. In fact, I'm itching right now!” She began to scratch at her arms and legs.

“Mrs. Gennari is cool for a principal,” Mercedes said, shaking her head at Zizi. “I like that she's straight with us.”

The music began to play—loud and energizing. The PA speakers were tinny at best, but Mercedes was impressed that Mrs. Gennari had chosen a song they all actually listened to.

“Good thing Mrs. G. has a teenage daughter,” Layla said, beginning to shimmy. “Otherwise we'd be probably listening to oldies from the sixties!”

“You look nice today,” Justin said to Layla. “That yellow makes you, I don't know, uh, kinda glow.”

“Like a light bulb,” Mercedes joked.

“What I mean to say, Layla,” Justin continued, fixing Mercedes a quit-it glance, “is that color brings out the best in you. You look really nice.”

“Thanks, Justin,” Layla replied. “I guess I'm just happy today.” She spun into a little whirl in the midst of the crowd of kids.

“I'm going to the studio right after school to get in some practice,” Justin told Layla. Mercedes hid a smile as she watched him try to break past Layla's defenses. “You want to meet me there and go over the duo Miss Ginger suggested we try? I think it will be a great competition piece.”

Mercedes caught Justin's eye and nodded with approval.

But Layla shut the idea down. “I might not get to class tonight, Justin. I told you, my dad is coming home. I'm waiting for a phone call from my mother, who
finally
told me about his release. If she gets the final approval from
the corrections bureau this morning, she's taking off work today to go and get him. I want to be there when he walks in the door.”

“I feel ya,” Justin replied with a shrug. “It's cool.”

A new song came over the loudspeaker, and several of the students began to dance. “This feels like one of those crazy scenes from that movie
Fame
,” Zizi said. “I didn't think it could happen in real life. This is awesome.” She grabbed a very surprised freshman, who eventually grinned and danced with her, matching her steps. The gauzy pale purple blouse she was wearing floated around her effortlessly. Mercedes joined them, moving to the beats that emanated from the speakers.

Eventually, Steve and the rest of the kids in the hall began to back away to make room as the dance academy students gravitated to the center and basically took over. Jillian appeared from nowhere; her elegant moves immediately drew attention. Kids clapped as each dancer did her thing. Zizi. Mercedes. Layla. Jillian.

When Chris Brown's “Kiss Kiss” blared from the speakers, the kids in the crowd cheered and backed away farther as Justin took over the center. He popped. He locked. He flipped. He spun. His classmates went wild, stomping and hooting. Mercedes watched Layla tap her feet as she watched Justin dance.

Another song began. “Just the Way You Are” by Boyce Avenue. It was slower, more sensuous. Breathing hard, Justin extended his hand to Layla. She smiled and reached out her hand to him. They moved together, almost as if they were one person. They twisted and
stepped together. He twirled her around, then gently lifted her while the music surged around them. The words to the song were so perfect for Layla—for the two of them, Mercedes thought.
“It's so sad to think she don't see what I see . . . ”

Layla landed delicately and spun within the circle of Justin's arms. For a moment, there was only Justin, Layla, and the music that swirled around them. The kids in the crowd were silent, mesmerized by the beauty of the dance. And then—

“What the hell?!” Donovan was pushing his way through the clog of students. He grabbed Layla roughly and jerked her away from Justin.

“Donny? What's wrong?” Layla asked, trying to twist her wrist out of his grasp.

“You askin' me what's wrong? I show up and find my girl showin' her stuff and rubbin' up against this dude. In front of everybody! How dare you?”

“Donny, you're embarrassing me.” Her face flushed, and she said beseechingly, “Let's talk about this later.”

“No. We deal with this now!”

Mercedes tried to intervene. “All of us were dancing, Donny. It was just something to do until the bell rang.”

“This ain't got nothin' to do with you, Mercedes. Now back off,” Donny snapped. He continued to squeeze Layla's wrist while she clawed at his hand with her other hand.

Mercedes glanced toward Steve.
Do something,
she mouthed.

The music continued to play, but somehow the foyer
felt deathly quiet. The students looked uneasy, eyeing each other, no one making a move.

No one, except Justin. Looking like he could take no more, he stormed over to Donovan, grabbed his hand, and peeled his fingers from Layla's wrist.

Mercedes grasped Layla's arm and drew her away. Layla peered at her reddened wrist, Donovan's fingers clearly outlined on her skin.

“Keep your hands off her!” Justin shouted, his nostrils flaring.

“She belongs to me, and you, dance boy, won't tell me what to do!” Donovan lurched forward and grabbed Layla's wrist again to prove the point.

Layla jerked her arm away.

Justin glared at him. “She is nobody's property. Slavery was abolished a long time ago.”

“Layla is my woman. And I can prove it.”

Layla's eyes went wide. “No. No. No,” she whispered.

“Correction,” Justin said. “Layla is a lady. She should be treated like one.”

Donovan smirked. “You might be wrong about Miss High and Mighty here. She might not be the angel you think she is.”

“Donovan . . . No, baby. . . . Please, no,” Layla begged.

Mercedes couldn't understand why Layla looked so horrified.

“Layla deserves better than scum like you, Donovan,” Justin spat out.

“Don't be callin' me names now. Don't make me have to tighten you up.”

“I ain't scared of you,” Justin shot back.

“This ain't got nothin' to do with you, Justin. I know how to handle my women, and you can't stop me.”

“I can. And I will.”

“Just try it, you little dance fag.”

Mercedes held her breath.

Justin's eyes narrowed. He tightened his fist, pulled back his arm, and let Donovan have it, right below his left eye.

The crowd gasped.

Donovan, unbelievably, staggered, then fell to his knees. He looked around in confusion. And anger.

A few kids clapped at Justin's success, but most backed off as they saw the fury emanating from Donovan.

Justin snatched up his book bag and melted into the crowd.

“By and by there was to be heard a sound at once the most musical and the most

melancholy in the world: the mermaids calling to the moon.”

—from
Peter Pan

I want to die,
was Diamond's first thought as she woke up on the fourth morning. Aching from the abuse of the night before, she could barely move. Her arms were now untied, but as she glanced at the rope burns, deep and raw, she knew they probably needed medical attention. She lay there, remembering horrible images, trying to forget. She was glad he'd drugged her, because she didn't
want to know what the men had done to her that made her struggle that hard.

Oh God, please take me from this place,
she prayed.

When Thane had brought her dinner the night before, he had told her, “The drugs are in the bottle of water. Less than usual. I want you more conscious. Drink it if you want. But”—and here he leered at her—“you might want to be more awake tonight. You're a natural, Diamond. I can tell you enjoy it.”

Diamond had screamed with rage. “I hate this! I hate this! I hate you! I want OUT of here!”

“Not yet. You're still too valuable—you're making me a boatload of money.”

“How?” She wanted to know. She didn't want to know. “No, don't tell me.”

He did anyway. “Men pay me to come here and be with you on camera. Men and women both pay me to watch you online. You're so much more . . . ah . . . pliable than any of the other girls I've worked with. You're quite a draw—my bestseller, in fact—you should be very proud of yourself.”

“
Other
girls?” Diamond's head was spinning.

“Oh, yes. You are the first from around here, but I've filmed dozens of dumb kids like you. In my line of work I have to keep moving, as you might imagine.”

“Where are these other girls now?” Diamond hardly dared to think of the possibilities.

“I don't know, and I don't care.”

“None of them turned you in?”

“Not a one.”

“Why not?”

Thane raised his eyebrows arrogantly. “What difference does it make?”

Diamond slumped back, fighting the hollowness of despair that was threatening to overwhelm her. She tried to reason with him. “Look, it doesn't have to be now, it doesn't have to be today, but tell me you'll let me go. I'll be just like those other girls. I won't say a word. I promise.”

He ignored her, swiping on his phone as it rang. “Yes,” he said, his voice slimy. “She
is
delicious. She'll be ready at seven.” He put the phone back into his pocket.

Diamond closed her eyes, trying to think. She needed a way to overpower him, beat him up, make him stop. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

“I like you, Diamond,” he continued. “I'm thinking I might take you with me. I'm thinking of heading to Colorado next. I bet you'll really like the mountains.”

Diamond's eyes grew wide with horror. “No. Don't take me away. You've gotta let me go home, Thane. Please. I can't do this anymore.”