Blind Side of the Moon

Jane woke first, gently and happily. The way everyone should greet summer Sunday mornings.

The bed was soft and warm, and she snuggled beneath the sheets that smelled like Samantha with undiluted pleasure. With an almost feline grin, she pushed her messy hair out of her face and stretched as she listened for, and immediately found, Samantha’s deep, even breathing. It was actually more like a tiny snore, and she resolved to tease her about it later.

Refusing to open her eyes just yet, she poked her nose out of her cocoon of bedding and inhaled the scent of strong coffee, toast and something vaguely spicy that she couldn’t identify. Her stomach growled its approval. She was starving.

Thoughts of drunken fathers, creepy text messages and prophetic dreams all seemed very far away. Jane had always been a slave to worry and found it difficult to simply enjoy the here and now. But in this exact moment, she was at peace, and everything seemed right with the world.

She was determined to lie there for a while and revel in this simple feeling of joy, but it wasn’t long before she grew antsy to see Samantha. She tentatively cracked open her eyes. Bright sunlight shone around the edges of the curtains, and the clock on the whitewashed wooden nightstand read 7:06 a.m. Despite everything that had happened the night before, she’d still managed a restful, if not full, night’s sleep.

Samantha was asleep on her back on the floor right next to the bed. Her dark hair was splayed across white linens, and she was half on, half off a pile of blankets that sat atop a tattered sleeping bag. Her tank top had ridden up during the night, leaving an expanse of dazzling, golden-skinned belly on display, and one naked leg peeked out from beneath flannel boxers and a tangled sheet. Gorgeous.

Jane was so close that if she wanted, she could reach down and draw her fingertips across the downy skin on Samantha’s cheek. And God knows she wanted to. Her fingers practically itched to give in to temptation and experience Samantha’s loveliness for themselves.

She was so jaded by the pretentiousness of her preening family, the men included, and even more so by Chloe’s friends whom she swore slept in false eyelashes and pushup bras, that Samantha’s simple, natural beauty made her heart beat a little bit faster.

Samantha’s mouth was barely parted, and Jane wondered idly what it would be like to taste the curve of those lips. Arousal instantly coiled deep in her belly, and she was hard-pressed not to moan. She was no vestal virgin, but this feeling was still so new and different that she couldn’t help but be dragged under by its weight and then sent adrift.

If asked yesterday, she would have admitted to crushes. She’d been certain that she’d fallen in and out of love before. But now she wasn’t so sure. Even at the very start, it had never been like this. Not this all-consuming, epic feeling where a smile directed her way made her believe she could leap tall buildings, or a harsh word made her want to curl up into a ball and die.

Samantha muttered something in her sleep. Jane listened carefully, but after a few slurred words, she realized it was Greek, and the only word she understood was Yaya. When Samantha smiled, Jane melted a little bit more.

Her mind drifted to previously on the deck, where Samantha had, at her request, explained the Greek that Leola had used when comforting them. Leola had called Samantha moro mou. My baby. And to Jane’s surprised delight, Leola had called her manari mou. My little lamb. The thought of the sweet pet name thrilled Jane to the core. After a lifetime of feeling like an outsider with her face pressed up against the glass in her own family, even a taste of unconditional acceptance was as wonderful as it was addictive.

God! she laughed at herself, wondering if she’d lost track of the days and was about to start her period. This morning she was a soppy wreck. If she burst out crying over being given toast later, her suspicions would be confirmed.

Jane’s happy smile slowly slid away when she watched Samantha’s face gradually take on tension and finally become pinched in what looked like pain. Samantha’s eyes began to move furiously beneath lowered lids, and her fists opened and closed rhythmically. She was dreaming.

Everything in Jane wanted to wake her, but she knew that Samantha wouldn’t appreciate it, especially if she was dreaming about whomever had been sending the anonymous texts. But how could she just lie there and do nothing while Samantha suffered? Seconds of cursed helplessness seemed to stretch out forever, and when the other girl released a high-pitched mewling sound, Jane couldn’t take it anymore.

“Samantha, you need to wake up.” Jane sat up and carefully straddled Samantha’s hips but didn’t rest any real weight on her. The last thing she wanted to do was frighten her any worse. “Samantha.” She gently shook slender shoulders. “C’mon Samantha!”

Samantha bolted upright. With glassy, confused eyes, her gaze darted around the room. Brokenly, she called out for Jane, even though Jane was now practically sitting in her lap.

“Shhh…I’m right here.” Jane finally did what she’d been so desperate to do the night before. Or, if she was honest with herself, maybe even before that. She pulled Samantha into the tightest hug that she could muster. “I stayed the night, remember?”

They’d touched each other before but never had so much of their bodies been in contact and with only skin-warmed, thin cotton shirts between them.

Samantha clung to Jane, and Jane pressed her nose into Samantha’s hair and inhaled. The scent went right to her head, and she forced herself to focus. She let her eyes slide closed, her mind racing for anything she could do or say to take away her friend’s panic. “It was just a dream,” she soothed. She let herself sink into the embrace and felt Samantha’s heart beating fast against her own chest.

Jane clasped her hands around Samantha’s back and squeezed her very gently. “My phone is safe on the nightstand.”

Breathing in short bursts, Samantha pushed Jane back and held her at arm’s length. “You have text messages. From the stalker. I couldn’t see him, but I-I dreamed about the message. I woke up before…” Samantha’s face took on a far-off expression. “I remember…Oh, c’mon! There must be more!”

Growing even more agitated, Samantha shook her head wildly. “You have it. I saw it.” She gently pushed Jane away and scrambled onto and across the bed. She grabbed the phone from the nightstand. When she impatiently swiped her finger across the front, all she got was the numeric keypad. “Ugh!” She thrust it out in Jane’s direction. “Your passcode?”

With a worried glance, Jane took the phone. She entered her code and examined the screen, her bottom lip caught between white teeth. “It’s—I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t have any new messages.”

Samantha reached out to snatch the phone but, with visible effort, stopped herself at the last second. “You have to! I saw the texts in my dream. I saw them being typed out. I saw your name on their phone. The texts are there, Jane.” She ran a nervous hand through her hair.

As much as Jane didn’t want any more messages, for Samantha’s sake alone, she willed her to be right. Unfortunately, she wasn’t.

Samantha’s face began to crumble. “That can’t be. Check for the messages again. There are three of them.”

Samantha rose to her feet, long legs nearly tripping over Jane, who clumsily scrambled out of the way to keep from being trampled.

“Where is this coming from?” This felt way too much like déjà vu for Jane’s liking. “Of course you’re not crazy. So you dreamt something and it didn’t happen. Big deal! Maybe you were wrong about the whole dream thing from the start.” She reached out to stop Samantha’s pacing, but the other girl skittered away.

“Whoa, whoa.” Samantha held up a forestalling hand. “Maybe I was wrong about the whole thing?”

Jane froze at Samantha’s stung expression. “I, um, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Samantha bristled. “You still don’t believe me!” It was an accusation, not a question.

“I told you yesterday that I believed you.” Jane stood, an anxious feeling rising up inside her.

“You want to believe me, Jane. I can see that. But there’s a difference.”

Jane’s phone beeped, signaling a message. Startled, she nearly dropped it. Then it beeped again.

“Wait!” Samantha said desperately. “Don’t look at the messages. Please!”

Jane couldn’t help but glance at the screen, but she didn’t click on the messages. Her stomach was clenched so tight it hurt. The texts were from the same unknown number as the last set of anonymous messages. Whoever was doing this wasn’t giving up.

Frustrated, she searched Samantha’s face for clues. “I don’t understand what you want me to do. A second ago you were begging me to check it!”

Samantha closed her eyes. “I like you in your work uniform,” she murmured in a flat, trance-like voice. “Did you see me, Jane? I saw you. Why won’t you answer me?”

Irritated, and growing more and more confused by Samantha’s nonsense, Jane stamped her foot into the blankets at her feet. “What are you talking about? I am answering you. And of course I saw you. I slept two feet away from you last night.” In a fit of pique she snapped, “And you snore!”

Samantha opened her eyes. They were clear and deadly serious, and her voice was barely a whisper. “Read ’em now.”

I like your work uniform

Did you see me Jane? I saw you

Why won’t you answer me?

When the words registered, Jane’s jaw dangled so loosely it looked unhinged. In that second, she realized that she hadn’t truly believed what Samantha had said about her dreams. But now? Now her skepticism had been chased away by proof. Impossible.

Thoughts violently collided in Jane’s head like neutrons in a reactor and then exploded as logic gave its last, dying gasp. Impossible. Impossible. Impossible. Samantha…she, she…“Oh my God,” Jane finally whispered, truly astounded.

She gazed at Samantha half in awe, the other half in undisguised fear. What sort of person actually had powers that defied the laws of science?

Her heart demanded that she wrap herself around Samantha; instead, fear of the unknown intervened, and she took a shaky step backward. Shrinking away, she held up her hands as if to ward off Samantha coming any closer. “Don’t.”

When she saw the instant hurt reflected in Samantha’s eyes, she realized what she’d done and how it looked, and ashamedly she lowered her arms. But the damage had been done.

“You’re afraid of me? Really?” Deflated, Samantha sank down to sit on the edge of her bed as though her legs couldn’t hold her. Her voice held hefty doses of both anger and disillusionment. “I would never hurt you. Never, Jane.”

The bottom of Jane’s stomach fell out, and a sharp spasm of pain in her chest made her body jerk. Everything Samantha had done since the day they met in the park had been to try and help her. She’d never asked for a single thing in return except for her trust. And Jane’s response was to back away from her as though she were a rabid animal.

She’d never felt so unworthy. No wonder she didn’t fit in with her own family and hadn’t really reached out to anyone since her longtime best friend, her only real friend, had moved away. When someone reached out, she had no idea what to do in return, and still somehow managed to hurt them. “I’m-I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Guilt made it hard to even look at Samantha. “I’m just…I dunno! And I’m scared! I don’t know how to handle this.”

“No, you don’t.” Jane took a tentative step forward, praying that the progress they’d made just yesterday wouldn’t be erased by her stupidity today.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were scared to death of me.” Samantha pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes. “The dreams and, Jesus Christ, my horrible dad…”

Jane marched forward and only just stopped herself from pressing her index finger against Samantha’s lips. Instead, she was left with the awkward appearance of pointing at Samantha’s mouth. “Stop it.”

This time Jane did what she wanted and pressed her finger to Samantha’s mouth. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I—”

Jane’s phone interrupted them, chiming twice in quick succession. For a second, she clung to the fleeting hope that the text messages would be from her mother or Chloe or even Kyle. Hesitantly, she peeled her finger away from Samantha’s soft lips. They put their argument on hold as they read the messages together.

You aren’t taking me seriously Jane

That changes today

Wordlessly, Jane began to gather her belongings, sure of only one thing: Everything was changing.

Samantha and Jane stepped off Samantha’s gravel road and onto a paved road that wound through a series of small cape houses that ranged from rickety to high-end summer getaways. It led to the harbor and then the town square beyond.

Jane had her purse slung over her shoulder. She wore her own pants from the day before but Samantha’s sweatshirt. She chewed her bottom lip as she walked. “I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier. I didn’t mean it the way it looked.”

“It’s fine.” Samantha used her hand to shield her face from the glare, wishing she’d remembered her sunglasses and purposely not addressing the pink elephant that walked alongside them. That’s how she got over things that bothered her. She ignored them until she didn’t care anymore. Sometimes it even worked. “Wanna stop at Wayfarer Café for a coffee?”

Neither girl had the slightest appetite for breakfast after Jane received her latest texts. A heavy, edgy sense of restlessness stole over them that was part worry about the stalker and part awkwardness over not hashing out what had happened in Samantha’s room. But Samantha insisted on walking Jane home anyway, even though they’d barely spoken since they left the house.

Samantha let the familiarity of the walk she could do in her sleep, provide some comfort. It was only just past eight on a gorgeous summer morning, and except for the church and out-for-breakfast crowds, the town really had not gotten going for the day yet. Cars and bicycles were still scarce, and the streets and sidewalks were nearly deserted.

Jane’s face was strained with concern and for a fleeting, petty moment, Samantha was glad. Jane needed to learn to leave well enough alone. Jane’s worry was payback for the sharp barb that the terrified look on her face had left embedded in Samantha’s side. But the thought of Jane really hurting was so instantly repellant that she found herself wanting to talk things out despite having a nearly allergic reaction to the very idea.

Maybe this was why she’d never really connected with other girls as close friends. Boys were infinitely easier. Sully, for example, cared about her, at times maybe even too much, but he’d stop pressing her to talk when things got uncomfortable because that made him uncomfortable. When she told him everything was fine, even when it was painfully obvious that it wasn’t, he almost never challenged her. Instead, he glided easily to a new, less heated topic and took her along with him.

Samantha could already tell that she would never get away with that with Jane, and that was both daunting and exhilarating. But how could she explain what was so confused in her own mind? “I’m not upset, Jane. I’m just…” She shrugged helplessly. “I dunno how to explain.”

Samantha gave her a quick nod and tried to control her emotions. She didn’t want to make a big deal about the way Jane had cowered away from her. Jane had apologized several times.

“Samantha, please.” Jane reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling them both to an abrupt stop. “What else can I do?”

“You don’t have to do anything.” I’m being a big baby. “I already accepted your apology.”

“And yet what happened is still bothering you.” Jane squeezed the hand still in hers. “At least tell me why?”

Samantha’s gaze flickered in all directions to confirm they were completely alone. When she glanced back at Jane, a flash of emotion that Samantha couldn’t quite identify arced between them like an electrical current. For a moment, it was hard to breathe.

“I guess…” Samantha hesitated, collecting her thoughts. “When I think of my dad, I sometimes get this gross feeling inside.” She scrunched up her face as she thought of the best way to describe the unsettled, sickening sensation. “You know how it is when you’re leaning way back in a chair, so far that your mom would whack you in the head if she caught you, and you’re a millisecond away from falling? And then something happens and you tip just a hair too far, and you know you’re about to fall?”

Samantha felt something loosen inside her just enough for the words that seemed so scattered only moments earlier to come pouring out. “That’s how it is being around my dad. I’ll be going along just fine, and then somethin’ in the back of my mind reminds that I shouldn’t be fine. That things aren’t really okay, they’re just pretending to be okay, but somehow I forgot that for a split second. I never know how he’s gonna be.”

Samantha’s face took on a far-off expression. “Happy or sad? Drunk or sober? Furious with me over nothing or thrilled about something stupid? Nostalgic about my mother or cursing the day she was born?”

“When you shrank back from me this morning, it reminded me of how I sometimes feel with him. The look on your face was the same thing I feel with him.” Samantha gritted her teeth together. “It was awful, and I didn’t deserve it.”

“I don’t want to be like him. And I-I don’t want you to feel like that when you’re with me. Ever.”

Jane’s voice was a gentle almost-whisper. “I don’t. What you saw was my rational mind…just rebelling, I guess. I believed what you’d told me before about your dreams, but it was somehow different when the reality of it was right there before my eyes. I’m not afraid of you. Everything just hit me all at once and spooked me.”

Samantha knew her heart was showing, but she was defenseless to hide it. “So you’re not afraid that I’m, like, an evil witch or somethin’?”

Jane shook her head fiercely and her eyes blazed with conviction. “There are no witches. But even if there were, and you were the most powerful one of all, I wouldn’t be afraid of you. I’m scared of the situation, and of the fact that some psycho thinks I live in his brain, and that things I’ve never believed could be possible can be true.”

“Join the club,” Samantha muttered, mostly to herself. If Jane didn’t believe she was some sort of mutant because of the dreams, then at least there was a possibility that it wasn’t true, right?

“The second after I backed away from you, I knew my reaction had been ridiculous, but it was too late. I hurt your feelings, and I didn’t mean it.” Jane’s eyes glittered in the morning sun. “I’m so sorry.”

Samantha pushed through her embarrassment and simply asked for what she wanted. “Promise?”

Jane smiled sympathetically. “I promise.” And to seal the deal, she rose up to her tiptoes and pressed a firm kiss to Samantha’s cheek.

When Jane slowly eased away, it was only a fraction of an inch, so that her lips could linger. Samantha felt Jane’s lips murmur against her skin like butterfly kisses. “I’ll be more careful with you in the future.”

Samantha closed her eyes at the divine sensation. “And I won’t be such a whiny girl in the future.”

Jane laughed quietly and let her hands rest on Samantha’s hips. “I like you exactly the way you are.”

Samantha’s heart skipped a beat. The loving gesture and sentiment transformed her the way a desert plant blossoms from the tiniest bit of rain. Then she realized where they were and how they were standing, and jerked back with a start. She looked around self-consciously. “Jane, someone will see you,” she hissed and put a few feet of distance between them.

Jane blinked, confused. “See me standing close to you and kissing your cheek?”

Samantha nodded, her face flushed and still tingling from the feeling of silky lips against her skin. “Yeah.”

Samantha’s voice dropped to something low and faintly resentful. Why was Jane making her point out the obvious? “You should care. It could be bad for you.”

Jane unrepentantly erased the distance that Samantha had just put between them. “I don’t care if people know that I like you. Locklow is small enough that people will find out I’m gay sooner or later anyway. Though I doubt anyone really cares. But those that do will talk. Nothing will stop that.”

Jane cocked her head to the side, looking unsure. “Unless this is really about you and what people might think about you if they saw me kissing your cheek and standing close? If that’s the case, I apologize.”

Samantha snorted. Jane really had no clue sometimes. “Being seen with you is like hitting the lottery. But you have to know that your father will probably be super pissed if someone tells him they saw you touching me. Especially now that he’s like running for City Council and all. Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t like me or my family to begin with. You’re askin’ for trouble.”

Jane’s body radiated her sudden pique. “Stop acting like you’re some sort of leper! I don’t know what jerk made you feel that way about yourself, but they were dead wrong.” Her back stiffened indignantly, and then Samantha watched in amazement as the proverbial light bulb seemed to pop on over Jane’s head. “Oh, my God. The way she was eyeing in you Mackelroy’s parking lot, all possessive and greedy. Like she wanted you. Or she wanted you back.” Her eyes narrowed. “It was Aubrey, wasn’t it?”

Thunderstruck, Samantha could only stare. “Holy shit. You should work for the CIA.”

“Well, that answers that question.” Jane grumpily crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Please, Samantha, you can’t believe anything she said or judge yourself by how she acted. Plus, and I can tell you this because she practically lives with Chloe on the weekends and in the summer and I’ve known her since birth, Aubrey is a sleazy bitch.”

Samantha burst out into unexpected laughter. At least Sully and Jane had something in common.

“She’s also spiteful and mean.” Jane scowled. “In the fourth grade when I begged her and Chloe to play Zoey 101, Chloe almost gave in, but Aubrey got annoyed and held me down and stuffed bubblegum into my ear.”

A rush of anger made Samantha hot all over. “I would have never even spoken to her in the first place if I’d known that.”

Samantha desperately wanted to believe and was halfway there before a nasty, little voice that lived in the darkest corner of her mind popped out from the shadows to remind her that even if Jane felt that way now, it wasn’t likely to last. Nothing good ever really did. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Jane’s breathing quickened. “My father can mind his own business. If he chooses not to, that’s his problem, not ours.” She paused and gave Samantha a hopeful look. “Did you like holding my hand last night?”

Finally, something with an easy answer. Samantha grinned like a maniac at the memory. She knew she must look demented, but she couldn’t help it. She more than liked holding Jane’s hand. “It was epic,” she whispered, crushing so hard that it was embarrassing. You’re awesome.

Yes! “If you knew how obvious that answer was, you wouldn’t even ask.” But when Jane reached out, Samantha pulled away. “But—”

“Shut up.” Jane snatched Samantha’s hand. She laced their fingers together with a deep sigh and held it close, her expression daring Samantha to just try and withdraw it. “I’m a big girl who can make her own choices. And I choose this.”

Samantha regarded their joined hands, a little stunned at how quickly Jane had just ended the discussion, gotten her way and made them both happy all in one fell swoop. “Okay.”

“I can see it’s going to take some work to make you believe the truth about yourself. But, Samantha, I’m not going to stop until you do. Now, are we going to stand here all morning, or are you going to walk me home like you promised earlier?”

They began to walk, hand in hand, letting their gaits sync and their joined hands swing with the motion of their strides. A wave of contentment rolled through Samantha, lifting her mood and bolstering her spirit.

Samantha felt brave. There was something simply irresistible about a pretty kitten having unexpectedly sharp claws. Especially when those claws were out on her behalf. “You’re surprisingly cute when you’re bossy.”

Jane’s lips curled into a cocky smile that quickly melted into a shy laugh, despite her earlier brashness. “Thanks. I think.” She winked and continued to use her thumb to tenderly caress Samantha’s knuckles in a move that was so matter-of-fact that Samantha wondered whether Jane was aware she was even doing it.

She was mesmerized by the dichotomy of Jane’s personality and the force of the charisma that drew her in. It held her powerless but joyful in its grasp, like a fly caught in a velvet spiderweb, too blissed-out to worry about being ensnared.

The morning sunlight lit Jane’s hair and pulled out its fiery highlights. Her fair skin glowed and her eyes, the color of the churning ocean, danced with new merriment just because they were touching and together.

They talked and walked, easily now. And when Jane laughed at something she said, Samantha felt a falling sensation again, but this time it was one that she fully embraced.

The teens stood in front of Jane’s home, and while Samantha didn’t particularly want to let go of Jane’s hand, she untangled their fingers and willingly accepted the disgruntled look she got in return. No matter what Jane had said, her parents seeing them together would only make things more complicated. And that was the last thing Jane needed today.

They both stared at the stately house, looking for something, anything, that was out of the ordinary. Jane’s stalker had made it clear he or she was would make a move today that Jane couldn’t ignore.

Samantha questioned what it would be, whether they would be ready and if she should just tell Jane’s parents about the texts herself. Yes, it would be a clear betrayal of Jane’s trust. The thought of incinerating their newly minted friendship made her physically ill, but the notion of some lunatic getting his grubby hands on Jane was infinitely worse.

Jane let out a relieved huff as she scanned the property. “Well, nobody burned it down. The windows are all intact. My dad’s largemouth bass mailbox is as obnoxious as ever.” She opened and closed its squeaky door. “And there are no voodoo dolls inside. Maybe the loser stalker is just trying to scare me but won’t really do anything but talk.”

“Speaking of that…” Jane gestured to the driveway that ran along the side of the house where her car was parked. “I’m surprised Chloe’s back already. She must have come home from the party sometime last night after all. No way would she drive home this early on a weekend. Even just from Aubrey’s.” She bit out the name as though it was a vile curse word.

Only partially listening to Jane’s rundown, Samantha visually scoured the house and yard herself. Everything appeared normal. Pristine even, with its freshly cut grass and well-tended rose bushes that gave off a heavenly scent. Maybe Jane was right about the stalker and the message this morning was just a bluff and another pathetic bid for attention. If only she could have seen a face in her dreams. She wondered idly whether hypnosis or even sleeping pills might induce a deeper rest with more clarity.

Jane let her purse drop until she held it by just the strap. “Crisis averted, I guess.”

“Buzzkill.” With a lightning-fast hand, Jane reached out and pinched Samantha’s bicep.

“Oww, I hate you.” Samantha said as she rubbed her arm and tried her best not to pout or smile.

Jane looked smug. “No, you don’t. Now maybe next time you won’t ruin my moment. I was just starting to relax.”

Samantha stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her blue jeans and let her wrists dangle there. “Should we check out your car and see if someone got turnt and puked in it? Or see if Erik’s got so much weed stashed in your glove box that Snoop Dogg is in there with it?”

“Oh, bletch!” Jane stalked toward her car, gesturing with her hands the entire time. “Nobody had better have done either! Or have left my keys in the ignition again. Chloe does that every time.”

Samantha chuckled and ran to catch up. She kept a vigilant eye on their surroundings just in case, half-expecting someone to jump out from behind the bushes.

Shoulder-to-shoulder they peered inside the car. What they saw wasn’t at all what they had expected.

The interior was spotless, except for Chloe’s cheetah-print FM pumps on the floor, and a large white box that was wrapped with a hot pink bow and displayed proudly in the driver’s seat.

Apprehension skittered down Samantha’s long spine like an icy raindrop. “Your birthday?”

Samantha scratched her chin as Jane tested the door and found it unlocked. As predicted, the keys were still in the ignition. Jane gingerly removed the box, which by the way she held it, looked as though it hardly weighed a thing.

“From your sister maybe? For letting her borrow your car?” But the box looked too extravagant for that, and Chloe seemed like the type who primarily bought presents for herself. Samantha decided to keep that unnecessary dig to herself.

“Hardly. Besides, she couldn’t have bought me anything in the middle of the night. And planning ahead is not exactly her strong suit. I should be getting last year’s Christmas gift around Labor Day.” Nervously, Jane licked her lips and glanced up at Samantha with wide eyes. “What do I do? What if it’s from the stalker?”

“We could just give it to your dad and let him open it,” Samantha offered hopefully.

Jane frowned and shook her head. “If there is a severed head inside this box, then I will give it to my father. Until then it’s not his business.”

Samantha paled and gave Jane an incredulous look. “Holy shit.” She hadn’t even considered something so gruesome. Suddenly, she was in a lot less of a hurry to open the box. And so, apparently, was Jane.

With a tilt of her head, Jane guided them to a slightly more private location under the low branches of a large red maple tree along the side of the house. They dropped down onto the dewy, cool grass. “We need to hurry if we don’t want to get wet. The sprinklers come on every morning.” She scowled as she stared at the mysterious box. “Everyone who knows me, knows I hate pink.”

Samantha zeroed in on the thick bow. “That makes the gift less likely to be from someone in your family then, right?”

“I don’t want my dad in my business right now.” Jane anxiously picked at the pink bow. “Things are already strained enough between us, and it wouldn’t take much to give him an excuse to lock me in my room.”

Instinctively, Samantha moved a little closer to Jane, her natural protectiveness flaring to life. “Are you serious?”

Jane nodded sadly. “He thinks that my liking girls is a wild phase that will undoubtedly end with me getting enormous ear gauges, a tramp stamp, dropping out of beauty school and becoming a stripper.”

Samantha gasped. “He actually said that?” Jane was the least rebellious teenager she’d ever met!

Jane laughed weakly. “Nah. It’s more like I’ve upset his pretty, pretty world. He’s disappointed and looking for something, or someone, to blame for things not turning out the way he planned for me. He’s got all our lives mapped out, and I went waaay off the grid.”

Samantha groaned to herself. If Troy Hutchens caught a glimpse of her with his daughter, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who that someone he could blame would be. And somehow, stupidly, she was sitting in the man’s yard. Then again, at least he’d be too busy aiming his shotgun at her to worry about being upset at Jane.

Jane leaned toward Samantha and affectionately dragged the pad of a finger down Samantha’s nose.

“Don’t worry, Sam. I’ll protect you. My dad is way more bark than bite. Now…” She drew in a fortifying breath. “Let’s see what’s in the box. Please let it be a late birthday gift from my Great-Aunt Marjorie from Providence. She’s older than dirt and gets the dates of all the holidays and birthdays messed up.”

“Yeah,” Samantha croaked, doing her best not to be distracted by the feeling of Jane’s soft fingertip. With a shake of the head, she cleared her throat. “Are we going to ignore the fact that there’s probably no way your great-aunt could have gotten this box delivered to the front seat of your car?”

With a shake of her head, Jane worked off the tight lid until it hovered just over the box. “Ready?”

Samantha could hear the sound of her heartbeat in her ears and could see a light sheen of sweat on Jane’s brow that had nothing to do with the temperature. She readied herself to pull Jane back if whatever was in the box was somehow dangerous or even just mega gross. “Go.”

“Aww! It must be from my mom. She knows I want a pet.” Jane reached in and drew out a life-size stuffed animal. It was a gray cat with a happy smile and big yellow-gold eyes. She turned it over in her hands a few times. “It looks fine.” Then, impulsively, she pulled it to her chest and squeezed it, relief spilling out of her.

Samantha released an explosive breath and sent up a prayer of thanks that the box hadn’t contained a head or any other body parts. She laughed a little when she almost reached out to stroke the stuffed animal’s shiny fur as though it would purr at her touch. It reminded her so much of her own cat, Oliver. But her chuckle ended abruptly when she grabbed the lid and noticed a piece of white paper taped to the inside. Her stomach sank as though it had been filled with rocks. “Jane?”

Jane followed her gaze and, with a gasp, dropped the cat as if it was toxic. “My mother would never, ever leave a paper note with a gift. She has an entire room dedicated to crafts and wrapping paper and buys actual greeting cards for Arbor Day and the Fourth of July.”

Jane reached for the lid, and Samantha could feel the slight tremor in Jane’s hands when she passed it over. There was a single sentence typed in the center of the white page in bold print.

Do I have your attention yet?

Don’t panic. Samantha rubbed Jane’s knee and told herself this could have been so much worse. Yes, the stalker was brave enough to reach out right to Jane’s doorstep, but he hadn’t done any real harm. Some people might even find the gesture romantic, in a disturbed, horror movie sort of way. “We don’t need to freak out.”

“Yes. Dicksmack has our attention. But it was just a stuffed animal and not a dead rat or somethin’.”

Jane suddenly grabbed the cat and ruthlessly dug her fingers into the seam that ran down its back.

“Sure I can.” In only a few more seconds, Jane’s seeking fingers had made a hole large enough to start digging into the stuffing. Apparently, the stuffed cat was cheaply made. “What if there’s a camera in here? On Pretty Little Liars there are always hidden cameras.”

Samantha’s eyebrows rose, but she began helping her friend rip apart the stuffed animal. “You know, you would actually make a pretty good stalker yourself. You’re so wholesome-looking nobody would ever believe it.”

“Good.” Jane attempted a small grin. “But watch out,” she warned, her eyes still on the cat, who now looked like it had been shot in the back. “I might develop an unnatural obsession with you.”

“A girl can always hope,” Samantha muttered playfully. She enjoyed the casual flirting and was a little envious that it seemed to come so easily to Jane.

She made a face at the dismembered cat, unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed that its insides were nothing but white batting. At least they weren’t dealing with a high-tech criminal mastermind. Yes, she’d seen Pretty Little Liars too.

A buzzing phone made both girls jump. “It’s mine,” Samantha said grabbing her phone from her pocket. Her heart was in her throat, and she gave Jane an apologetic look. They were both so on edge that she should have thought to turn it off. “Sorry.”

I’m at your place. Come home now. Code blue.

If Samantha hadn’t already been sitting down, her knees might have given way. She was suddenly light-headed.

When Jane saw the look on Samantha’s face, she glanced at the text. “What’s ‘code blue’?”

For a long second, Samantha was stunned. “It’s, umm…It’s our secret code. We’ve had a bunch of little codes since we were in grade school. It means there’s an emergency.” Her throat constricted around the words. “A big emergency. And I’m pretty sure it’s not the zombie apocalypse, which was what it was intended to be used for.”

Samantha’s vision swam and her most paralyzing fears rushed to the surface of her mind. Something had to have happened to one or both of her grandparents. Or maybe the brother she hardly knew, but who looked just like her mother, and was so far away in the navy. “Sully’s never used it before. Not even when Pappous broke his hip a few years ago, and Sully drove him to the hospital in his dad’s car before he really knew how and took out half the mailboxes in Locklow.”

“Right. Right.” Her fingers shook so badly she could barely press the right buttons. “Dammit! He’s not pickin’ up. He’d better hope he was eaten by zombies or I’m going to kill him myself.” Next, Samantha furiously texted him back, demanding an explanation, but received nothing in reply.

The urge to smash her phone against the tree erupted violently inside her, and she was only stopped by Jane’s cool but sure grip on her wrist.

Samantha let the phone loosen in her hand. Then her eyes widened. “Oh Christ! What if my dad came back while he was still drunk? Or drunk again?” Then as though she was waking from a dream, she realized she was still sitting in place in the yard. “Why am I sitting here? I-I have to go!” She stuffed her phone into her back pocket.

While Samantha was still talking, Jane grimly pushed the eviscerated cat shell aside. Chunks of white batting still covered her legs. She quickly scrambled to her feet and reached down for Samantha with both hands. “I’ll drive.”

Chapter Ten