Serial Hottie (13 page)

“It wasn’t a guess.”

“How could it not be a guess?”

My mind was reeling with a million different thoughts. That sick feeling I’d had in my stomach the day before was back. So much so that I had to put down my ice cream. “I don’t know, but he knew. I swear to you Seth
knew
.”

Angela stared at me like I was the one who was crazy and then she burst into laughter. “Do you realize what you’re saying?”

What exactly
was
I saying?

“Ellie, you just accused Seth of killing three girls—of being a serial killer!”

Angela started laughing again, and I tried to laugh with her, but I couldn’t. When she saw the look on my face she got herself under control. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “A serial killer? Do you really think that Seth, the hottie seventeen-year-old boy across the street who’s bringing you roses, could actually
kill
someone?”

I had to think about it.
Did
I think that? Did I really believe Seth could do it? I found myself nodding my head.

Angela rolled her eyes. “Okay, I get that he freaked you out a little yesterday, but now you’re the one who’s being crazy. So he’s a little forward—which, I’ll be honest, I would
love
if he came on to me like that—but that doesn’t make him a psycho.”

Angela was calling me crazy, but the more I thought about it the easier it was to believe. “Think about it,” I said. “The murders started right after Seth moved to Michigan. And you say he really likes me, right? All the dead girls look just like me! Plus, the killer’s obsessed with stabbing his victims and there’s no question Seth knows how to handle a knife.”

“So
you
say.”

“I know what I saw! And yesterday he was talking about knowing all the vulnerable spots on the human body in order to be able to stab them as many times as possible before they died. His aunt said he knows first aid and stuff. And you know how strong he is.”

“Getting good grades in biology and knowing self-defense isn’t a crime.”

“He attacked me in the street the other day!”

“He
attacked
you?”

“Yes! Attacked me! Just to scare me. Just to show me that he could.”

Angela was clearly not being convinced.

“He’s smart. Like,
really
smart. He knows things about me that he shouldn’t, he breaks into my room, he—”

“He broke into your room?”

“More than once. Look at what he did to my video game.”

I turned on
Skateboard Pro 2000
, but it didn’t have the desired affect. Angela read the high score list and squealed. “Oh my gosh, Ellie, that is so sweet! Didn’t you just die when you saw this?”

“But how did he do it? And when? It’s not like I invited him over. Plus, he never came home last night. I know, because I sat up all night waiting for him.”

That made Angela pause. “Stalk much, Ellie?” she said with a smirk.

“I’m serious!”

“I can see that.” Angela finally lost her patience with me. “You are such a freak. Remind me never to have girl-talk with you again.”

“No one asked you to in the first place.”

Angela started to leave and stopped at my door to glare at me. “Seth is sweet, funny, romantic, and completely gorgeous. And for some insane reason he likes you.
You
are an idiot! I am not going to let you screw this up because you’re a freaking prude.”

“Bite me,” was my brilliant comeback.

“Whatever. I’m going to talk to Seth,” Angela grumbled.

“I hope he leaves your mutilated body in a park!” I called after her.

I eventually came out of my room, but I just hung around the house. No way was I going to go outside and risk seeing Seth. For some reason it was a relief to have my dad come home that night. We spent the evening watching any channel on TV that didn’t have the news on, and we talked about what other types of cars I might like. He didn’t ask about Seth either, but unlike my mother, he didn’t seem to care much about it, and that was nice.

When I went up to bed I found a note on my pillow along with one of the flowers pulled from the vase on my dresser. In strong handwriting it read:

What lies behind us, and what lies before us

are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The note wasn’t signed, but I knew it was from Seth. I tried to tell myself that he’d given it to Angela to give to me, but Angela would have handed it to me, watched me read it, and then made a huge fuss over it. No way would she have been able to just place it on my pillow for me to find later, even if Seth had given her those exact instructions.

I went to my window, sighed when I found it locked, and then turned my attention back to the note. I knew what the saying meant, but I wasn’t sure exactly what Seth was trying to tell me with it. Was he telling me to look inside him? Because when I did that all I saw was a possible homicidal maniac.

Or did the “us” mean him and me? What lies behind us being yesterday, and what lies ahead of us being… I shudder to think. Either way there was definitely nothing lying within us or between us or around us or anywhere because there was no
us
.

I wanted to crumple up the note and throw it away, but I couldn’t. There was something about it. Just like there was something about the vase of roses on my dresser that I couldn’t dump bleach on no matter how many times I’d thought about doing so.

I took the rose off my pillow and put it back with the others after taking in a long drag of its scent. Then I taped the note to the mirror on my dresser and tried not to think about it as I went to sleep.

My dreams that night were the worst they’d been all summer.

After everything with Seth, and the serial killer stuff, and the dreams, I had an unhealthy amount of tension built up inside me. So I may have been acting a little crazy come seven a.m. I went barging into my sister’s room and began rummaging through her drawers. I wasn’t exactly being graceful and neither was Angela with the mouthful she gave me when I woke her up. “Sorry,” I grumbled. “But there’s a pick-up game in the park at 7:30. I want to get there before they pick teams.”

“And that would require ransacking my dresser because…?”

“Because when I played frisbee football at the party the other night it was a million times easer to move around in your tank top and shorts than in baggy jeans and a jersey. Not to mention I got elbowed in the boobs
way
less.”

“Sure,” she agreed with a snort. “That’s because the Neanderthals you always play with finally realized you had boobs to watch out for.”

“Are you going to help me find something to wear or not?” I snapped, throwing a pile of clothes on the floor.

“All right. Geez. Do you mind?”

Angela acted like it was a huge ordeal to get out of bed, but I noticed her smile as she slid her closet door open. “You have a sports bra, yes?”

“Of course.”

“Then here.” Angela threw me a white tank top. “Wear that over it and take the pink Adidas pants. Second drawer, left-hand side. You’ll have to wear them low on your hips, cause your legs are longer than mine, but they have a drawstring. Get one drop of blood on them and you’re buying me new ones.”

“Whatever.”

Angela sighed and finally cracked a grin. “I work from ten to four today.” Angela works at Old Navy. “Come see me and I’ll help you pick some stuff out. I’ll even get you my employee discount.”

“Maybe, if I had a way to get there,” I grumbled, still peeved that she’d ditched me Saturday.

“I’m sure Seth would be more than happy to give you a ride.”

“A ride to hell on the Saturday Night Slasher Express,” I muttered as I left.

“It’s not even Saturday, freak!” she yelled after I’d slammed her door.

“She shoots, she scores!” Dave hollered, slapping me a high five. “And that’s game, losers!”

It felt really, really good to let go all of the tension, anger, and frustration inside me, and as a result, I killed on the court that morning. Sure when I’d shown up in Angela’s workout clothes the guys had given me crap about not being able to play now that I was a girl, but we’d been out there for three hours and I’d not been on the losing team once.

My theory was right about Angela’s clothes, too. I was much cooler, much more comfortable, and my chest had only been assaulted once this morning. When I got hit, they’d even stopped the game for a minute to make sure I was okay. I didn’t need that, but I definitely needed to take Angela up on her offer to help me shop.

I crashed onto a bench, ripped off my helmet, and wiped at the sweat on my face while I caught my breath. As I drained a bottle of water, this guy Greg, that I’d just scored the winning goal on, fell down beside me. “You may look like a chick now Westley, but you’ve still got game.”

“Of course I do,” I teased, “and if you weren’t so easy to score on I might actually get to use it sometimes. This was barely a workout.”

Greg’s grin grew as wide as his face. “Girl, if you were looking to score all you had to do was say so. You have no idea how easy I can be.”

I groaned for the hundredth time today—the innuendos had been nonstop. I punched Greg in the arm and hollered, not just to Greg, but to everyone present, “Am I really going to have to hear this crap every time we play from now on? You’re like a bunch of wild dogs!”

Among the laughter someone shouted, “A bullmastiff baby! Or a pit-bull!”

“You wish Sanchez!” someone else said.

Another guy chimed in, “More like a Chihuahua!”

I groaned again and a shadow fell over me. I looked up to see Dave smiling down at me. “Admit it Westley. You like playing with us better than the J’s.”

“Never!” I laughed. “You just like me playing with you guys better because it means you get to win occasionally.”

“You talk a lot of smack for someone wearing a ponytail,” Dave said, offering me a hand up. “You and me, one-on-one sometime. We’ll see who leaves crying.”

“You’re on.”

As I gathered my things I noticed a familiar tall, lean figure propped against a shiny BMW near the edge of the park. When he caught my attention he held up his index finger and motioned for me to come to him.
Yeah, right.

I quickly glanced away, but I knew the minute I was alone Seth would come after me, so I did something I’ve never done before in my life.

“Hey Dave, you heading home?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

I shot Dave a smile much more confident than I actually felt. “You mind taking the long way? Walk a girl home?”

“Uh…” Dave looked confused and very surprised, but at least he didn’t look disgusted. “Yeah,” he said a little uncertainly. “Sure.”

We headed across the park together in the direction of my house. And I did everything I could not to look behind me, where I knew Seth was probably still watching, completely furious.

“Thanks,” I said in order to break the awkward silence that had settled between Dave and me.

“No problem. What’s up?”

“It’s stupid really.” I laughed nervously. “You know that whole serial killer on the loose thing?”

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Dave glanced at me curiously. “It got you spooked?”

“Something like that. I sort of fit the profile of all the dead girls, you know? My Dad’s going a bit crazy over it. He made me promise I wouldn’t go anywhere alone. I’m also pretty sure I’m grounded every Saturday night until the guy’s caught.”

“I guess your dad’s never seen your right hook.”

I smiled at that. At least somebody thought I could handle myself. “Could be worse, I guess,” I said, shrugging. “He could have locked me in my room and nailed the windows shut.”

Dave chuckled and then completely changed the subject. “So… who was that guy you were with at the diner the other day?”

I snorted and shook my head.
Guys.

“What?” Dave asked defensively.

“Nothing. That’s just the exact same thing he asked me about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Just as soon as we sat down. He thought you and I looked
chummy
.” I gestured quotation marks with my fingers.

Dave seemed amused by this, but he didn’t say so. Instead he repeated his question. “So who is he? I didn’t realize you were seeing anybody.”

“His name is Seth,” I explained as my face turned devastatingly red. “He moved into the house across the street from mine. And, uh, yeah,
not
seeing him.”

“You sure? Because it kind of looked like you two were…
chummy
.”