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  "So," he began again. "No one else calls you Evie?"

  "Um." I had no idea where he was going with this. "Not really. No one’s ever really even asked me about it."

  He stopped walking and captured my eyes with his again. "I’m asking."

  All I could do was stare back at him. There was some kind of crazy thing I can’t explain going on. I felt completely focused, but totally content to just stay there staring at him with his body so close to mine, sending little earthquakes through my system.

  But while his eyes had my entire world on pause, I had completely lost track of what he had been saying. "Sorry, what… are you asking?"

  "Can I call you Evie?"

  "Why?" Who cares why you moron, he wants to know you better, just say yes, the bad angel on my shoulder shouted at me. Hello! You have a boyfriend who doesn’t even call you that, say no, shouted the good angel.

  Now even he looked a little confused. "I… don’t know, can’t explain it, just can I?" He was smiling such a warm, tender smile that it sent warmth deep into my bones. His lips were only inches from mine.

  I took a deep breath, unsure what to say. "Shouldn’t you be getting back to Coach Hayman?"

  "Can I call you Evie?" He was more forceful as we made our way into the main building and down the hallway.

  "Oo… oh, okay," I breathed. He stopped just outside the nurse's office and leaned closer to me, staring at my lips, his mouth just a breath away. My head was screaming Jay, Jay, Jay, but my heart was in complete control of the moment wishing and beating in anticipation of a kiss from Devlin. Sadly and thankfully, life interfered. Before his lips could reach mine, someone walked out of the nurse’s office breaking the spell we’d spun.

  The kid who had walked out the door was nice enough to hold it open as Devlin carried me into the room and deposited me on one of the cots. He went to the fridge in the corner and grabbed an ice-pack seeming perfectly comfortable in the room.

  "You come here so often that you know where everything’s at?" The amusement in my voice was clear as I adjusted myself on the cot.

  "I’ve had a few injuries."

  "Like what?" I asked skeptically. "You don’t seem the accident-prone type."

  "Oh really?" He smiled, cocking one eyebrow up. "What type do I seem?"

  "The Mr. Tough, can-handle-anything, everything-you-do-you-mean-to-do type, I guess."

  He laughed genuinely as he grabbed some brown paper towels from the sink, wrapping them around the ice-pack. "Well, I meant to catch you, but I didn’t, so I guess that doesn’t really apply to me, now does it?"

  "You had interference from that hussy."

  His chuckle was so deep, and its rhythm was incredibly charming. "Hussy? I didn’t know people still used that word."

  "Well, we’re in the office, I have to be creative."

  He walked back to stand in front of me, placing the ice on my ankle. I winced sharply at the weight of it and tensed up.

  "Sorry," he said as he caressed my calf, making the pain less noticeable. He looked back at me. "I have my share of accidents, trust me." He continued at my raised eyebrow, "Okay, last year during soccer practice, Marcus thought my ankle was the ball and kicked it. It left a huge bruise for weeks."

  I shook my head. "But you didn't do that. That was his fault, so you still have yet to disprove my theory."

  He narrowed his eyes at me, accepting my challenge. "Okay, last year during the game against the Tritons, the line-backer pissed me off. I made the mistake of taking him on by myself. He laid me out cold for like thirty seconds."

  I was shaking my head before he had even finished his sentence. "That was a choice, not an accident. I’m still right, you don’t have accidents. Maybe you make bad choices, but you aren’t accident-prone."

  "Hmm." He looked back to my ankle, rearranging the ice-pack. "I don’t know about not being accident-prone, but I can agree with you about making bad choices." He brought his face closer to mine, boring into me with sudden seriousness. "There are times when I know something is wrong, and I have no right to be doing what it is I’m thinking…" The look in his eyes caught me off guard, like he was vowing something, making some sort of promise or something. His intensity was unnerving. "But I choose to do it anyway."

  I felt my lips part allowing all the air to rush out of my lungs as he closed the distance between us.

  "Well now."

  My eyes darted to the door in panic where an older woman stood staring at us. Devlin quickly stepped away, and I let my elbows collapse falling back.

  "What are you two doing in here?" she asked.

  Devlin seemed to immediately regain his coolness, walking smoothly to the nurse. "Ms. Benson, how have you been?"

  "I’ve been well, Devlin. You haven’t been in here in quite a while, not since Tina shoved you down the stairs at the end of last year."

  Devlin’s head turned quickly to me, making it obvious that this was a story I certainly wanted to hear if his embarrassment was any indication.

  The nurse patted him on the back and walked over to me. "And who is this?"

  He followed her back toward me. "Eev—uh, Piper Kenley. She hurt her ankle during PE. Coach Hayman wanted her to walk on it, but I suggested he let you handle it."

  "Ah, so smart, so smart, but class is almost over. You should head back and change. I’ll send someone for Piper’s things."

  "Okay, Ms. Benson. Thanks." He looked back at me and winked, making me smile like an idiot. "Take care of that ankle, Evie."

  Jeremy

  I had to spend a week on crutches. I was both happy and sad to be kept from PE. I was happy because it meant I didn’t have to deal with Nicole. And I was sad that I wouldn’t see Devlin in as intimate a setting as I had been. And then I was guilty over being sad that I wouldn't be seeing Devlin intimately. And finally, I was really happy that track tryouts weren’t for a few weeks. I was a bit of a mess.

  After the PE incident with Nicole, I found myself much more the center of attention. Word got out that I was hanging all over Devlin trying to get him to flirt with me. While Jay said he didn’t believe the rumors, I noticed him watching Devlin a lot more closely. He didn’t seem to be watching me too closely, but I was still careful to keep my eyes from falling on Devlin.

  Managing to stay away from Devlin and closer to Jay wasn’t difficult since everyone seemed to wish for the exact same thing. Sonya’s theory was that I hadn’t reached a proper popularity status to be friends with the captain of the football team. I couldn’t deny her theory, and since I was doing my best to deny any feelings I had for Devlin, it wasn’t much of an issue. All in all, it was really just best that we stay as far away from each other as possible.

  As I hobbled on my crutches up to Sonya's house to get help with the project I had for chemistry—totally not my strong subject—I could smell the deliciousness of Evelyn's cooking. It smelled like tacos tonight, and I loved tacos. I let myself in and was about to wander into the kitchen to say hello, but I didn't get ten steps inside before I was charged at by a big, happy, furry boy.

  "Whoa there Butcher, easy boy. Sit!" I hated yelling at him, but the last thing I needed was to be thrown to the ground by an 85 pound German Shepherd.

  Of course, the second he calmed down long enough to look at me with his adorably tilted head, he must have noticed something was wrong. Sniffing at the bandage on my foot and my crutches, he inched his little butt on the ground—careful not to disobey my command to sit—until he could very gently put his nose under my hand for attention.

  "I'm sorry. I know you hate it when I'm hurt. I didn't mean to get injured."

  "Piper, come on in the kitchen and put that foot up." Evelyn's voice was too high and full of concern, making me wonder what was going on. The similarities between Evelyn and my mom had been so obvious that understanding Evelyn's tones and unsaid thoughts and feelings was like second nature to me. "You're supposed to have it elevated!" She yelled.

  As I hobbled into the ki
tchen, I caught the conversation going on.

  Sonya, who was sitting at the kitchen table with books in front of her, sounded a little confused. "I don't know, but she was really upset."

  Evelyn was standing at the counter seasoning a slab of meat, her long, dark hair braided as it always was when she was in the kitchen. While she was a good six inches shorter than Sonya and me, her personality and what she called her "mom tricks of the trade" made her larger than life in our worlds. "So what did you tell her?"

  "That I haven't heard from him since just before he left for his aunt and uncle's house, that I know for a fact he would never do drugs, and that I would let her know the second he called or texted me."

  I flopped down in a chair. Evelyn brought another chair in front me and gently pulled up my ankle as I tried not to wince. "What are you talking about?" I was certainly curious.

  Sonya glanced up at me from the piece of paper she had been "working" on, but looked more like she had just been doodling in the corners. "Jeremy," she said sadly. I could see the worry in the way her forehead was creased and how she avoided eye contact. Sonya had always been able to rival my personal worrying skills, but I still edged her out on that competition. "He's missing."

  "Missing? Since when? I thought he was on vacation." I knew Jeremy—we had English together. He was always super nice to me and tried to make sure I had a group to join or a partner when everyone else seemed to have their class activity partners chosen since birth. He was one of those guys who didn't talk crap about people behind their backs or get involved with the drama, which is ironically why everyone who talked crap behind people's backs and got involved with drama liked him.

  "He was," Sonya explained. "But his mom just called me. She's calling all his friends to see if they've heard from him. He went missing four days ago along with his older cousin. The cops say that his cousin is heavily involved in drugs, but that just doesn't make any sense. Jeremy would never even smoke a cigarette, and he certainly wasn't the type to fall for peer pressure."

  "That is weird," I replied. I watched Sonya pull out her Chemistry book and begin flipping pages, so I did the same. "Where was he? I mean where is it that his aunt and uncle live?"

  Gabriel came into the kitchen on the tail-end of my question and paused to peer over Evelyn's shoulder. "Needs more salt, babe."

  She slapped his hand away as he tried to reach for the salt shaker. "Don't you dare."

  I watched them for a moment. Gabriel was barefoot in a pair of worn-out jeans and a grey Van Halen T-shirt I'd seen him lounge around in a hundred times. Evelyn was still in the long, brown cotton skirt she likely wore to work. They were so cute together. They avoided extremely mushy behavior because we always cringed, but they reminded me of my parents—they really loved each other.

  Sonya put her hand on my book to get my attention. "So page 257 is probably the most helpful for this. It's got most of the information you'll use for the project." She flipped through the pages of my book for me. "Independence."

  I immediately slapped my hand on top of hers, making her look up at me in alarm. "He's in Independence?" I couldn't keep the worry from my tone.

  Sonya nodded slowly, not understanding my reaction.

  Gabriel took a seat at the table with us pretending to be in our conversation and flipping his hair in mock teenaged-girl fashion. "So like, what are we like, talking about? Like is it like boys?" He used a high pitched, valley-girl voice that made Sonya smile for a moment.

  Her smile completely left her face though, when she explained what had happened with the phone call from Jeremy's mom. She left out the mention of exactly where he had been, so I thought I would mention it. Gabriel always watched the news making him far more likely to know what was going on.

  "He was in Independence visiting his aunt and uncle," I said slowly as I watched for Gabriel's reaction.

  His head turned abruptly to me, his eyes wide. "Independence?"

  "What?" Sonya slammed her pen down on the table. "What the hell is the big deal with Independence?"

  "Hey now," Evelyn warned.

  Gabriel patted Sonya's hand. "It's been in the news, honey. They have this drug problem there. The teenagers have been into some kind of mushrooms that are causing all sorts of health problems. They think it's like PCP."

  I put my hand on Gabriel's arm. "Harm gave me reports about that kid Raymond Acacia. Did you see the story about him?"

  Gabriel nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Yeah, that was a while ago though, back when they thought this was a bunch of isolated incidents." He leaned back and put his arm over the back of the chair. "Deaths are piling up in the area now, and no one seems to know what's going on. They thought it was a serial killer for a while, but seemed to finally settle on it being related to the drug-use. Some people think there's some kind of infection stemming from this drug, but that's just conspiracy theorists talking."

  "How could the murders be related?" As she asked the question, Sonya twirled her pen between her fingers the way she always did when she was worried about something. I almost suggested Gabriel not mention any of this to her, but realized it would be worse not to know.

  "Psychosis," Gabriel said gravely. "Makes you go crazy. Some drugs can do that. Be sure you girls stay far, far away from any kind of drug offered to you."

  Sonya rolled her eyes. "Nothing like that goes on here, dad. Seriously, only like two kids I know even smoke cigarettes."

  "Still." He looked her in the eye then turned to look me intensely in the eye. "Just be careful."

  Evelyn walked over to the table, drying her hands on a dish towel. "Gabriel, you know we don't have to worry about that with our girls. Now leave them alone. I want them done with this chemistry thing before dinner."

  "Yes, dear." He rolled his eyes and slumped away pretending to be depressed with his head hung low. Sonya's parents were so much fun to be around. They didn't act all grown-up and stiff, but they didn't treat us like little kids either.

  After an hour and a half of chemistry, I was ridiculously thankful to be done with the project. We didn't finish before dinner like Evelyn had wanted us to, but carne asada tacos were certainly a welcome break.

  That night, I had three nightmares. One was hardly worth mentioning involving a toaster oven turned Transformer that Harm was fighting against in some foreign country—I often had nightmares about Harm's safety. The second was about Jeremy asking me to join his English group full of drugged out, creepy-faced guys that resembled Raymond's scary picture. The last nightmare was the scariest. I was at Jay's house, but it felt weird, scary and haunted-like. Samantha came charging at me with a cleaver—her eyes were crazed and creepy like the picture of Raymond. Jay's parents followed after her with large knives as well. It was as if I was in the middle of some kind of zombie-attack movie. When I ran out the front door, I ran immediately into Devlin. For a few moments I felt safe and protected as he shoved me behind him, but then I noticed his face was Raymond's face and woke up. Feeling like three was enough for one night, I stayed awake the remaining few hours until my alarm went off.

  As I sat down heavily in my chair in Ms. Jones' English class the next day, I put my head down on the table and closed my eyes. Despite the crutches, my ankle was killing me, leaving me with depressing thoughts of when and if it would ever feel normal again. Worrying about upcoming track team tryouts, my mind was too busy in its own world to immediately notice what was going on around me.

  "Okay, let's go." Ms. Jones said loudly. "Come on in and sit down everyone, we've got a lot to cover today. Take out Hamlet and let's get started. Jason, Randy, let's go. Hey, I mean it, let's go!" Ms. Jones' voice hitching higher and higher pulled my brain from itself long enough to notice the group of guys at the window.

  I titled my head in confusion over their completely unusual resistance to Ms. Jones' commands. Ms. Jones was one of those really nice teachers that you just knew better than to cross because she was really hiding a fire-breathing dragon of a temper underneat
h her kindness.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that the seat next to me that had been empty for a few weeks was now occupied. I turned to see who was sitting in Jeremy's seat. His head was turned away from me, so I couldn't see his face, not that I would have necessarily recognized him anyway. He was thin, and the grey hoodie he was wearing had dirt stains on it. As I watched him while doing my best not to look as if I was watching him, he pushed the sleeves of his hoodie up. His arms were super thin, but it wasn't their size that captured my attention, it was his veins. They were so popped out and dark—it was weird. I wanted to say something to him about being in Jeremy's seat, but for some reason he frightened me—a lot.

  Turning my attention away from the weird guy, I now found Ms. Jones outside with more kids gathered at the window.

  Litsey, who sat on my other side, elbowed me before saying, "I think they're here for Jeremy."

  "Jeremy?" What was she talking about? When she tilted her head in the direction of the guy sitting next to me, I nearly jumped into her lap. When he turned to look at me and my loud use of his name, I nearly ran screaming from the room. His eyes… what the hell happened to his eyes? I couldn't for the life of me remember what color his eyes had been before—grey or blue, some light color—but they were now dark and this unnatural green that made chills run all the way down my spine and back up again. I leaned closer to Litsey, trying not to let my panic show.

  "Jeremy?" Saved by Ms. Jones. She was standing in the doorway and appeared calm, but her hands were twisted together giving away her nervousness. "These gentlemen would like to speak with you. Please step outside."

  Two men stood in the doorway directly behind Ms. Jones looking very serious in black police fatigues. I turned back to Jeremy whose lips were curled back. He almost didn't look human as he stood up. Before I even knew what was really happening, he shoved the table out of the way like he was flicking a piece of lint off his shirt. It flew across the room colliding with another table as all of the students sitting jumped up, including me. He crouched down as if he was going to hike a football to someone, and the two guys in black pushed past Ms. Jones, guns pulled.