Chapter 18

Abby worked really hard in chem lab the next day so she wouldn’t have to work at night. There was hardly a night that she came in the lab that Stan Hurley wasn’t there. She didn’t want to be alone with him.

Her extra credit experiment was almost finished — again. She’d found it difficult to remember her initial conception of the project — and she had to admit, the first experiment was partly an accident. A lot of famous discoveries were accidents, weren’t they? She wished David were here. He was such a genius in chemistry. Maybe she’d cut her class before lunch and go see him. The bandages were coming off today. He would need support.

She did just that. On the way, she stopped at Burgers Etc., the long, silver diner midway between campus and town. She knew David would be ready for some real food by now.

Coke in hand, she slipped into his room, wanting to surprise him. Just as she opened her mouth to say, “Surprise!” she caught a glimpse of David’s face. The Coke dropped from her hand, liquid and ice spilling around him on the bed at the same time a gasp escaped her mouth. “Oh!”

David’s eyes had been closed, but he wasn’t asleep. He raised up on one elbow and stared at her as if she were a total stranger. Then he went limp, turned his face away, and stared out the window.

“Pretty bad, isn’t it?”

“I — it’ll be better when the scratches heal.” What else could she say now that she had made a scene as well as a mess? “I’ve made a terrible mess.” She hurried to scoop up ice in her empty cup. “Let’s ring for the nurse and get you another sheet.”

“Ask for a new face at the same time, will you?”

“Oh, David.” Abby sat on the chair by his bed instead of continuing her cleanup. “I’m so sorry. But no kidding, when the scratches heal, you’ll probably only have tiny scars.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The stitches and welts created angry hot pink designs on what had once been the most handsome face Abby had ever seen outside of the movies. David could have been a model or a movie star if he wanted to.

Think fast, Abby, she ordered her brain. “I brought you a burger from Burgers Etc. And fries, too. Here, sit up. If the nurse comes in, she’ll take it away from you. There’s a rule that hospital patients can only have carrot mush and green Jell-O.” Rattling the bag, she spread out David’s picnic.

“I’ll eat if you’ll stop pretending, Abby.” Slowly, David sat up, looked in the white paper bag. “No ketchup?”

“At the bottom of the fries. They may be soggy, but think what’ll be on the hospital lunch tray.”

Abby sat for a few seconds, unwrapping the silver paper from her own burger. The greasy smell filled her nostrils, making her stomach churn. She took a bite anyway, chewed slowly.

“Okay, you look awful. Have you considered plastic surgery?”

“The doctor wants to wait and see. Maybe I’ll grow a beard. And a mustache. And my bangs long.” David’s attempt at humor was lame. “This food is wonderful, Abby. Thanks.”

“Has Sissy been in?”

“Yes. I asked her not to come back. I can’t stand the way she looks at me.”

“She’ll be all right. It’s just that the initial shock is — is —”

“Yeah. I hope my mother won’t come. She’ll make a scene.”

Abby didn’t know what else to say. The silence became awkward. “I guess I’d better get back to school. I cut my English lit class, but I don’t dare cut history.”

“Abby,” David took her hand. His brown eyes looked concerned. “Don’t walk across the campus by yourself at night until this thing is caught.”

Abby hadn’t told David about Quinton Brooks punching her out. Or his being attacked. She figured he’d hear soon enough, and she didn’t want him to worry about her. She’d carefully covered her bruises with makeup, and he apparently hadn’t noticed them.

“I’ve decided for sure it’s Stan Hurley doing this, David.” She needed to talk to someone. “I don’t know why, or even how he’s doing it. The police are looking for a costume. But I don’t have any proof. He acts like he’s angry at the whole world. He may have attacked you simply because you — you’re so good-looking.” She almost said “were.” He would be again, she hoped.

“People don’t just start attacking other people because they’re angry.”

“Yes, they do. You read about it all the time. Someone takes a gun into McDonald’s and shoots total strangers because a love affair broke up. Some man shot up the post office because he got fired.”

“Those people are already disturbed, psychotic.”

“Stan Hurley is disturbed, and weird besides.” Abby had made up her mind. Now she only had to prove it.

“I’ve got to run.” She leaned over and kissed David. “Get well, and try not to worry about losing your handsome dude status. I’ll come back soon.”

Not only was she clumsy physically, spilling that Coke all over David, but she left feeling everything she’d said to make him feel better was clumsy. But what could you say to someone whose face looked like barbed wire tracks? And David’s eyes hadn’t been damaged. He could see for himself how he looked.

Stan couldn’t possibly have hurt David because he was her boyfriend, could he? Out of jealousy? She had never given Stan Hurley any encouragement. If he liked her, she couldn’t do anything about it. When did liking someone turn into obsession?

A plan started to take shape in her mind. It was probably a dumb thing to do, but for some reason she felt partly responsible for Stan’s behavior. She’d hide and follow him tonight. She knew he’d be at the lab. He was there every night. He left after she did — and maybe he followed her. Maybe he’d followed her last night and when Quinton punched her out, it made Stan angry. He’d attacked Quinton.

Well, if Stan was following her, she’d turn the tables on him. At least she’d feel like she was doing something.

“Want to study together tonight, Abby?” Martin asked, stopping her later, after class.

“No, I — I have something else I have to do.” Her vagueness brought a question to Martin’s eyes. She hurried to answer it. “It’s important, Martin, but I can’t tell you about it. Don’t take this personally.”

He did, but he tried to be nice about it. “You went to see David, didn’t you?”

“Yes. He needs me right now, Martin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. You’re a giving person, Abby. But don’t be a martyr. David wasn’t exactly thoughtful of you before this happened.”

Stress was getting to Abby. She took it out on Martin. “I think that’s my business, Martin. Don’t try to tell me what to do.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” Martin said, biting off his words. Then he spun around abruptly and walked away from Abby. She’d never seen him so angry.

Abby watched him go. Why was everything that was happening today going against her? She liked Martin. And David had been breaking up with her for Sissy. Why did she feel so guilty over all this?

Control, Abby. You’re a control freak, remember? She heard her best friend’s voice from high school. She wished Carol were here right now. She could sure use a best friend to talk to.

Carol was brutally honest, like a best friend should be. Abby knew she liked being in control of her life. She liked order, too. She liked straight A’s, being on the honor roll, handing in all her work on time. Keeping her room clean. She liked working at the Quad Caf, wiping tables, filling salt shakers.

She sighed and sank onto a bench in the Commons. She wanted David to be the way he was again. Then she wouldn’t feel guilty breaking up with him, even though he was the one running after Sissy. She had wanted to protect Carrie from an abusive boyfriend last night. Who are you to think you can set the world in order, Abby, keep bad things from happening, fix them when they do?

Carol’s voice echoed inside her head again. Who are you to think you can catch this beast thing when the police can’t?

It could be dangerous.

But that was exactly what she was going to do.

Tonight.