Wish You Were Dead (7 page)

The tears spilled out and ran down my cheeks. Mom slid her chair close to mine and hugged me. “It’s not your fault, hon. There’s no way you could have known. You wouldn’t have even been there if you hadn’t been trying to help.”

“Doesn’t matter.” I sniffed and rubbed the tears out of my eyes.

“It
does
matter,” Mom insisted. “Things happen. You can’t control them. You can only do the best you can.”

“I could have made sure she got inside. That would have been the best.”

Mom squeezed me in her arms. “You had no reason to. Nothing like this has ever happened around here before, and you said Lucy was being difficult. There’s no way you or anyone else could have known.”

I blew my nose and rested my head against her shoulder. “I’m scared, Mom.”

“Why?” she asked, sounding surprised.

“I don’t know. I guess because nothing like this has ever happened here before.… What if something awful’s happened to Lucy?”

“We don’t know,” Mom said, and hugged me. “There’s no point in getting upset until—”

“Until we
know
something bad’s happened?” I finished the sentence for her.

“That’s not what I meant to say.”

“But it’s what you were thinking.”

Mom’s lips parted as if to argue, but then she nodded. “Yes, you’re right. It’s hard not to imagine that something bad has happened. But we can’t give up hope.”

Leaving most of the salad on the plate, I went upstairs after dinner. As soon as I turned on the computer, a message from PBleeker was there.

This thing with Lucy is freaky, isn’t it? I wish I could talk to you about it. Just call you up like a friend and share thoughts. You’d probably be nice and polite for a couple of minutes and then make some excuse to get off the phone. Because you’ve got tons of more important friends to talk to. I can’t understand why someone like you doesn’t have a boyfriend. Unless he goes to a different school. Or he’s in college. That would make sense. You wouldn’t give anyone around here a chance.

Why pick on me?
I wondered. There were other girls who were prettier and more popular (at least they
cared
about
popularity more than I did). Why couldn’t PBleeker send those creepy messages to one of them? I deleted the message and turned on some music. But it didn’t matter. PBleeker was still there, in the air, in my mind, out in the dark. Lucy was gone and my cyberstalker was there. And for the first time in my life, Soundview didn’t feel like a safe place at all.

Str-S-d #8

It’s been three days since Lucy Cunningham disappeared. I know I said good riddance and everything, but it is a little strange. I mean, no one from around here has ever just vanished before. Wait a minute, why should I care? Would Lucy care if I disappeared? Not a chance. She’d be so relieved not to have to look at me. She wouldn’t even give me a second thought. I take back what I just said. I don’t care what happened to her. I’m glad that she’s gone
.

6 Comments

ApRilzDay said …
It sounds like something you’re trying to convince yourself of. Like you don’t really believe you’re that cold and uncaring. Aren’t you worried that if you stop caring you’ll just become hollow and bitter? Maybe Lucy deserved to be knocked down a few pegs. But did she really deserve to disappear? If she’s been gone three days, something bad really might have happened!

Str-S-d said …
You don’t know how it feels to be tormented.

IaMnEmEsIs said …
There is justice in tormenting the tormentor.

Realgurl4013 said …
I sooo agreee.

Tony2theman said …
Sounds like that Lucy chick could be pushin’ up daisies.

IaMnEmEsIs said …
Soon.

chapter
8

Wednesday 6:42
A.M
.

“WE JUST WANT Lucy back unharmed.” The familiar voice came from the kitchen the next morning. It was Dr. Cunningham.
Why is he in our kitchen?
I wondered as I trudged through the doorway, still half asleep. But inside I saw that it was only his face on the TV.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee, watching. On the TV, Lucy’s dad, usually meticulously neat and groomed, looked haggard and unshaven with bags under his eyes. “If you have information that will help us get our daughter, Lucy, back, we will pay one hundred thousand dollars, no questions asked. If you are the person who has Lucy, I urge you to get in touch and tell us what you want. We are willing to negotiate. Lucy, if you’re watching this, we love you and will do everything in our power to get you home again.”

“Those poor, poor people.” Mom’s words were heavy with angst. “Your heart absolutely goes out to them.”

Outside, rain poured down from the gray sky. The Sound was choppy, and a pair of gulls hovered in the wind. The TV screen cut to the local morning news anchor with a photograph of Lucy behind him. “It’s been four days since seventeen-year-old
Lucy Cunningham of Soundview disappeared without a trace. Police admit they have no leads. As you just saw, the Cunningham family is offering a one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to her safe return.”

The scene switched to the outside of the Soundview police station, where a reporter wearing a red rain slicker and holding a microphone said, “Police here in Soundview say the investigation is ongoing. Ms. Cunningham is the daughter of a well-known cardiologist, and people close to the investigation say kidnapping is a possibility, but so far no one has demanded a ransom.”

The screen cut back to the news anchor and his blonde co-anchor. “Sounds like this is a situation where you almost hope she
has
been kidnapped.”

The blonde co-anchor nodded in agreement. “You mean, because that’s the lesser of several evils?”

“Exactly,” the anchor said with a pensive nod, and then turned to the camera again. “In other news …”

My stomach began to hurt. Ever since I’d been little, I’d gotten stomachaches whenever I felt anxious or worried. I could feel one coming, and crossed my arms over my stomach and bent forward.

Mom reached forward and brushed some hairs off my forehead. She gave me a searching, concerned look. “Maybe you should stay home today.”

The suggestion surprised me. Usually, when I got a stomachache, Mom encouraged me to tough it out. “But—” I said.

“I know it doesn’t make complete sense, but I’d just as soon you stayed home,” Mom said patiently. “I don’t think it will hurt you to miss one day.”

“You’re … worried?”

She nodded. “It looks like they think it might be a kidnapping. I know they aren’t sure—and that it’s extremely unlikely that, if it is a kidnapping, the kidnappers would strike again in the same place. But I think there are times when you can’t be too careful. Times when it’s best to err on the side of caution. I’m sure your father would feel the same way.”

We agreed that I’d skip school. Later, Mom left for a meeting in the city and I went upstairs and slept for another hour. When I woke, my stomachache had vanished. I did some schoolwork and fooled around on the computer for a while, but something in my head was nagging me to go back downstairs.

In the kitchen I made a mug of peppermint tea and turned on the TV. The local channel repeated the morning show half a dozen times during the day, and it wasn’t long before I was once again watching the segment with Lucy’s dad offering the reward for her safe return. As Mom had said, kidnapping was a possibility. It seemed so crazy and unreal. These kinds of things just didn’t happen here.

I sipped the tea and turned the TV off. My thoughts wandered, and whenever that happened lately, Tyler was waiting nearby. Why, the day before, had he said that everything happens for a reason? Was he just trying to appear cool and mysterious? And that reminded me of how Ms. Skelling had ripped into me about leaving Lucy on the street outside her house. What a mean thing to do. Did she think I didn’t already feel bad enough without having to make me feel worse? And that made me think of
Courtney, who’d popped up so quickly from her seat after the meeting and vanished into the hall before I could find her. Why had she done that? Did it have something to do with Adam? Why did I feel like everyone had secrets? Was that true, or was I just being paranoid?

I looked up at the clock. At school, fifth period would be ending in a few moments. Courtney would be going to study hall, a class she could always be late for. I sent her a text:
?4U

Normally, she would hit me right back.

I waited.

No reply.

On any other day I might have assumed the message hadn’t gone through, or maybe her phone had died. But today I had to wonder. Was she ignoring me?

I sent a second text:
PTM
. Please text me.

But she didn’t.

I finished the tea and felt a weird combination of anxiety and boredom. I’d told Mom I wouldn’t go to school, but I hadn’t said I wouldn’t leave the house. Besides, it was day, not the middle of the night when bad things happened. Even Mom had said that it was highly unlikely that kidnappers would strike twice. And it seemed even more unlikely that they’d do it in the middle of the day.

School would be ending soon. By now Courtney had had plenty of time to answer my texts. I could only assume that she was ignoring me. But she was supposed to be my closest friend. If that was no longer the case, I wanted to know.

I got dressed and went out. The air was cold and damp and there were puddles in the driveway, but at least it had stopped
raining. It was hard to know where Courtney would go after school. Sometimes she went into town and hung out at the Starbucks. Sometimes she went to the mall, or to one of her other friend’s houses. Most of the time she didn’t go home until dinner.

After deciding that the best place to find her after dismissal would be near school, I drove over and parked a few blocks away. Pulling my hoodie tight around my head, I stood at the bus stop. It wasn’t long before the front doors opened and kids began flooding out.

Courtney came out alone, her red backpack slung over one shoulder, her long black hair with those streaks of pink and blonde dancing. Since she was alone, I assumed she wasn’t going to a friend’s house. That was good news, because it meant she would pass me on the way to town or the mall.

But instead of making a right at the bottom of the steps, she made a left. That was bad news, because to catch up to her I’d have to walk right past school.

Hoping that no one would recognize me, I started down the sidewalk. Courtney was walking fast, which was totally not like her. I wondered if she was going to meet someone. Rather than rush to catch up, I hung back and decided to see.

She turned right on the next block, entering the residential neighborhood closest to the school. This was one of the older neighborhoods in town, and not many kids we knew lived there. Where was she going? At the next corner she turned left. By now it was just me and her on the sidewalk.

As she walked, she took out a compact and checked her makeup. Now I was certain she was meeting someone. It was all
so strange to me. I thought I knew almost everything about her. Could she really have a secret life I knew nothing about?

At the next corner she turned right and started to speed up. I practically had to jog to keep her in sight. Then she looked back at me and started to run.

I started to run after her. Every twenty feet she would look back at me. Suddenly I realized what was happening. She knew someone was following her, but with my hoodie on, she didn’t know who it was. I pulled the hood back and called, “Courts, wait! It’s me, Madison!”