CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

RANDOM EVENTS

The final bell rang, signaling the end of school and this frickin’ American government test.

Mr. Fullerton asked insane questions. The only thing that saved me was Susanna. Her father, as the village tutor, had been on top of the politics of that time—which meant Susanna had been, too.

When I walked out of class, Gabrielle stood in the center of the hallway, talking with Jesse and Benita. They waved me over.

Three weeks ago, I’d been dreading this year, worried that I’d be a loner during the school day. Somehow I had just merged into this circle of four friends. It felt nice.

Benita nudged me with her elbow. “We’re celebrating how well the teachers colluded to give us a Wednesday marathon of tests. Want to come with us?”

I resisted the urge to check my watch. “Sure. Where?”

“Olde Tyme Grill?”

“Yeah. Great.”

Gabrielle smiled. “Did you bike today?”

I shook my head. “I drove.”

Fifteen minutes later, we were seated in our booth, drinking smoothies and eating fries. Jesse wanted to compare notes on exam questions, but we outvoted him three-to-one.

“Fine. You win.” He elbowed Benita. “Want to tell them about your audition at the School of the Arts?”

“Sure. It went great.”

Was it modesty or boredom that kept her from saying more? I was actually interested. “Is that where you want to go to college?”

“I don’t know yet. I guess it depends on whether I get into their high school program.”

“You’ll get in,” Jesse said.

Ignoring him, she propped her chin on one of her gloved hands. “Where do you plan to go?”

“Don’t know yet. I’m mostly looking at schools in the mountains.”

“Jesse wants to go to Berkeley.”

He shook his head. “Where I want to go—and where I will end up—might not be the same thing.”

She rolled her eyes. Obviously something she’d heard too often. “Let’s talk about Gabrielle.”

Beside me, Gabrielle laughed. “What do you want to know?”

“Are you going to college?”

“Eventually. It’ll have to wait, though. I have a couple of films lined up after graduation.”

Benita nodded in sage agreement, as if all of her friends took gap years to star in movies. “How does it feel to be on the homecoming court?”

“Busy.”

“Do you have a dress?”

“I will.” Gabrielle shrugged. “My agent is flying in a few to pick from.”

“Oooh.” Benita’s eyes widened. “Is Korry coming?”

Gabrielle exchanged a glance with me. “Korry can’t get away from the movie set.”

How long had she been holding onto that piece of information?

“Then who’s going to escort you?”

“I asked Mark.”

Her statement shut up Benita and Jesse, and it pissed me off. I turned sideways on the bench and pressed my back to the wall, putting maximum space between me and Gabrielle. I’d stopped thinking about it, expecting Korry to show up. Why did she wait until I had an audience? I didn’t like being put on the defensive. From the way her gaze skittered away from mine, she had gotten the message.

The silence lingered an entire minute, quite a record for the four of us.

Jesse was the first to break it. “What did you say, Mark?”

“I haven’t answered yet.”

“Why not? I would’ve said yes before she finished the question.”

Benita punched him in the arm. “You’re taking me to the homecoming game.”

“I know,” he said, “but if Gabi asked me to be her escort, you would just have to spend some time alone in the stands.”

I grabbed a fry and chewed slowly, glad the couple had pulled the attention back to themselves. The rest of the dining area was beginning to fill with Neuse classmates. All were looking about as mentally worn-out as we were.

“So what’s the holdup?”

Okay. Center of attention again. Not happy about that. They would want to know what I thought, and I hadn’t made a final decision before the request got put on hold. I liked the irony of ending up on the homecoming court, I had Susanna’s go-ahead, and yet it still didn’t feel quite right. “I’m working through the angles.”

Gabrielle settled against the booth and crossed her arms. “He has a girlfriend.”

Had she really just deflected this to Susanna? Not exactly the way to get my agreement.

“Oh, right. I’d forgotten about her,” Jesse said. “Does she know that Gabi asked you?”

“She does, and she’s okay with it.” Why did I let that slip out? By defending Susanna, had I backed myself into a corner?

“So it’s all good.” Jesse scooped up his complete share of fries and dumped them on a napkin.

“Then you’ll do it,” Gabrielle said with satisfaction.

That wasn’t what I’d said, but it was what I wanted to do. And Susanna had said it was okay. Grudgingly. So why did I feel played?

“What’s your girlfriend’s name again?” Benita asked.

“Susanna Marsh.”

“What’s she like?”

Gabrielle’s words floated back to me. Describe without mentioning looks. “She’s quiet. Smart. Loyal. Pure.” Plus both slang meanings of hot, except I wouldn’t use that word with them. It was private. Just for the two of us.

“Where is she right now?” Benita asked.

“Home.”

“Where’s home?”

Shit. Where was my brain today? Had the tests turned it into mush? “My parents have a studio apartment over the garage. Susanna is living there for now.”

Jesse gave Benita a wide-eyed look. “Wish you had parents like him.”

He might not think that if he’d heard the rules my parents laid down.

“What does she look like?” Jesse asked.

Oh, yeah, guys had their priorities straight. I pulled out my phone, opened the gallery, and hunted for the photos from the Eton House. I’d taken the first shot secretly. We’d just arrived, and she’d been absorbing it all. The booths. The docents in costume. The little kids giggling over the games. She’d smiled in total wonder, hands clasped against her waist, in love with the place and the day.

I handed it to Jesse.

He sucked in a quick breath. “I see why you’ve been hiding her. I’d hide her too. Damn.”

We fist-bumped.

Benita looked over his shoulder, frowning. “Okay. She looks…nice. But I don’t understand…”

Jesse and I said in unison, “The hair.”

“What about it?”

Jesse and I laughed. He said, “Oh, yeah.”

Benita took the phone and swiped to the next shot. “What’s she wearing?” She showed us the image, the one inside the dress-up booth.

Gabrielle studied the photo closely. “Federal-period costume.”

I nodded, impressed at Gabrielle’s knowledge. “We were at the Avery-Eton House, near the Governor’s Mansion.”

“She likes that kind of stuff? Is that why Alexis called her the colonial girl?” Benita smiled. “I hope so. I think that’s seriously cool. When do we get to meet her?”

“Not in this century,” Gabrielle said.

I cut a sideways glance at her. “What is up with you?”

“Nothing. Sorry.” She closed her eyes. “Long-distance relationships suck.”

“Yeah. Sounds like it. Maybe you should discuss that with him.” I retrieved my phone. “I’d better be going.”

Gabrielle got out of the way. I slid from the booth, grabbed my backpack, and started across the dining room. I’d barely made it halfway when I felt a light touch on my shoulder.

It was Gabrielle. “I apologize. It wasn’t right to take that out on you.”

“Agreed.” I stared down at her, wondering if there was more, not cutting her any slack at the moment. Normal teens didn’t get automatic forgiveness for crap like that.

“Korry can’t come, but he’s already okayed you, and my publicist is pressuring me to announce my escort. And…” She bit her lip and looked around the room. People were staring. “You’re the perfect solution. I didn’t know what I would do if you said no.”

“Well, you got your yes.” I backed up a couple of steps and turned to go.

“You’ll need to rent a tuxedo,” Gabrielle called to me.

The sound in the dining room dimmed significantly. Message sent and received.

I didn’t understand what had gotten into Gabrielle. “No, I won’t. I own one.”

The noise around me rose again. Now everybody knew that Mark Lewis would be escorting Gabrielle Stone on the homecoming court.

* * *

Once I got home, I raced up the back stairs and found Susanna’s door closed. I tapped lightly, but there was no response.

Maybe she was taking a nap. I’d try again later.

Bike ride. Shower. Change.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, Mom had dinner on the table. I detoured to the back stairs to get Susanna.

“She’s not there,” Mom said.

I looked over my shoulder. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen or heard her since I got home.”

“Is she at the lake house?”

“She didn’t leave a note.”

Weird. I walked to the window overlooking the back yard and peered out. No sign of her in the garden.

“I wouldn’t worry, dear. She’s probably walking on the greenway and lost track of time.”

“Maybe.”

“Are you talking about Susanna?” Dad asked from behind me.

I whipped around, uneasy at the odd inflection in my father’s voice. “Yeah, Dad. We can’t find her.”

“Then I guess you need to see this.” He held up some of Mom’s fancy stationery. “She left this on my desk.”

“Why for you?”

“I’m not sure.”

Dread jolted through me. There could be no good reasons for Susanna to write a letter to my father. “Let me see that.”

I charged across the room and snatched it from his hands. The note was brief, written in her precise, elegant handwriting.

Dear Bruce,

When you read this, you may have noted my absence. I have left for an errand that will likely keep me away overnight. Do not worry. I shall return tomorrow.

Please say nothing to Mark until he asks. He will be unduly concerned, and I should not like to distract him from his studies.

Sincerely,

Susanna

After reading it a second time, I tossed it on the table, stalked to the window, and glared at the setting sun. This was bad. Really bad. I clenched my fists in front of me, so my folks couldn’t see.

The card rustled behind me as my mom picked it up. “Do you know where she’s gone?”

“Not for sure.” One idea kept tickling at the periphery of my brain, but surely Susanna wouldn’t be that stupid.

I had to think. She hadn’t gone to the lake house or she would’ve said so. Who else did she know? How had she gotten there? Bus?

No, the destination was likely within walking distance. I frowned over my shoulder. “Dad, has she said anything to you recently? Anything that seemed strange?”

He shook his head, his eyes narrowed on me with suspicion.

I needed to take a deep breath. Until I had this figured out, I couldn’t act too “unduly concerned.” It took all of the acting skills I possessed to hide from them how bad this was. “Mom?”

“Hmmm?” She looked up from the notepaper. “Susanna has gorgeous handwriting.”

“Mom. Focus.”

“Watch it, son,” my dad growled.

Another deep breath. “Has Susanna said anything to you? Like, maybe about her sister?”

Mom wrinkled her nose at me. “I thought her sister had escaped.”

“She has, and I don’t have any more information than that.”

“Okay, dear. Nothing about the sister.”

“Has she said anything recently that seemed weird?”

“Nooooo,” Mom said, drawing the syllable out.

I turned to face her fully, jamming my fists into my pockets to hide their tension. “Have you thought of something?”

“She asked me about the difference between oral antibiotics and topical. We ended up talking about first-aid classes.”

It felt like someone had put a metal clamp around my chest and squeezed hard. Random events clicked into place, like colored glass in a kaleidoscope falling into a pattern.

Granddad’s wound.

The top drawer of my dresser.

Her eighteenth-century hairstyle.

I gave my mom as relaxed a smile as I could manage. “That can’t be it. Maybe I’ll go up to her apartment and look around for hints.”

Tearing up the stairs two at a time, I burst through the door. It looked perfectly neat. Perfectly kept. Perfectly empty.

The laptop sat in its orderly spot on the table.

I popped it open and brought up a browser, hunting through the recent history of links she’d visited.

Women’s fashions from 1800.

Treatment of puncture wounds.

Prescription drugs.

I checked the list of drugs she’d researched. Many were antibiotics, although some were…unexpected, indicating health problems that I didn’t know anything about. Problems that old people had—like maybe my mom and dad.

Had Susanna gone in my parents’ room looking for drugs?

Damn. They didn’t have a rule about that because no one would’ve ever imagined Susanna would do such a thing. Including me.

Okay, I’d have to deal with those thoughts later. For now, I had to forget how angry I was and refocus on why she did this.

She’d spent a lot of time with her sister’s journals recently. Had something happened to Phoebe—something related to her health?

I brought up the file containing Phoebe’s last journal, went to the end, and worked backwards, skimming the words as best I could. I didn’t have to go far when the word amputation jumped out at me.

Phoebe’s thumb had been amputated.

Was that something Susanna would feel compelled to prevent?

Of course it was.

Emotions exploded inside me, a volatile mixture of anger and fear. Susanna had returned to the past.