Lurker

7

Kylenevers: How was skool?

MC9010025: 2 words 4 ya: Calculus test.

Kylenevers: Calculus is ez.

MC9010025: So not

Kylenevers: Things back 2 normal? Sort of?

MC9010025: Again…so not. The teachers r. We’re getting homework again, and tests!!! Ugh! But most of us r still weirded out. I can’t beleev it’s been a week since Nicki died.

Kylenevers: We should chat about something else.

MC9010025: I know. Ur right, but it’s like being in 1 of those zombie movies

Kylenevers: You like zombie movies?

MC9010025: Not

Kylenevers: Oh.

MC9010025: I dated a guy 4 awhile and he took me 2 1. Ick!

Kylenevers: LOL. I like them even though they look so fake

MC9010025: So, uv met a lot of zombies? LOL

Kylenevers: Some. They aren’t very good kissers.

MC9010025: GROSS! LMAO.

Kylenevers: Do u like 2 kiss?

MC9010025: Doesn’t every1?

Kylenevers: No. Actually.

MC9010025: Well, I do.

Kylenevers: Do u think u’d like 2 kiss me?

Mandy leaned back in her chair and stared at the keyboard. This was the first time either of them had said anything remotely romantic. For all of their chatting, they usually just joked around and shared stories about their families, friends, and lives. Did she want to kiss him? She wanted to write yes, but it seemed way stupid. She didn’t even know what his voice sounded like, and this realization made her feel really strange. Maybe they should talk on the phone. Or actually meet!

MC9010025: Maybe

Kylenevers: Maybe? U fraid I’m going to taste like zombie?

MC9010025: LOL! What do zombies taste like?

Kylenevers: pork chops soaked in bleach

MC9010025: Ugh! So gross.

Kylenevers: U asked.

MC9010025: Well, since I’m asking questions, do you think we could talk on the phone sometime?

Kylenevers: And ruin the magic? LOL

MC9010025: There’s magic? Did I miss something;-)

Kylenevers: LMAO. Thnx. I don’t feel dissed or anything. Crap! Mom’s calling me. Gotta run. Chat tomorrow?

MC9010025: Sure

Kylenevers: O! If you’re serious about

Prague, check out Karlstejn Castle. It’s totally kewl. Way goth inside. Awesome views. It was the only thing I really got 2 C when I went.

MC9010025: K

Kylenevers: C U

MC9010025: TTFN

Kylenevers: back atcha.

Mandy smiled. She ran her cursor over the name of the castle, copied it, and then closed the IM window. She Googled the name and spent a few minutes surfing pages, looking at pictures and reading blurbs of copy about it. It really wasn’t a very pretty place, she decided, but it was cool. The place looked like one of those castles they used in old, old horror movies—movies from the ’60s. It was the kind of place where insane barons killed their wives in dank torture chambers, the kind of place for ghosts and vampires. One interior shot showed a massive stone room with wooden tables and a faded brown tapestry hanging from iron bars. Kyle was right; it was totally goth. Her imagination let loose, and she pictured Kyle leading her through the dark halls of Karlstejn Castle, gripping her hand tightly to guide her. They were not tourists in this place, but rather the owners—a king, a queen. Mandy shook her head, telling herself how silly she was being.

She closed the Web page.

Not quite ready to let go of Kyle for the night, she clicked on the file with his picture, and it burst across her screen. She followed the wave of his blond hair as it swept back from his forehead and looked into his clear green eyes that sparkled with embarrassment beneath the hand he used to salute her.

“Weird,” Mandy said, squinting at the picture.

Somehow the image seemed different. Kyle was still a hottie holding a hairbrush and saluting her, but he seemed to have shadows on his face that she hadn’t noticed before. They ran along the bottom of his cheekbones, giving him a slightly gaunt look. Something was strange about the hairbrush, also: The light that reflected on its shiny black side looked like a sharp edge rather than just a glimmer of light. Had the contrast of the picture changed somehow? That couldn’t be. She’d looked at the picture a dozen times, but she hadn’t done anything to manipulate the image. Maybe it was the way her desk lamp reflected off the screen that made it look wrong. It had to be something like that. Pictures didn’t just change on their own.

Thursday was a day of surprises.

After school, Laurel and Drew came back to Mandy’s place to hang out. Both were curious about this Kyle guy she kept talking about, so they followed her upstairs to her room and waited for her computer to boot up. When the picture opened, both of her friends pushed in close to look at the screen.

“Yeah,” Laurel said, “he’s got some major yummy going on.”

“God, he’s so cute,” Drew said, already drifting into a romantic haze. “It’s totally fate. I mean, if you hadn’t broken up with Dale, and if Nicki hadn’t been killed, you two might never have met.”

“Yeah,” Laurel said, “more kids should get sliced up so we can all get dates.”

Drew’s face fell, her dreamy voice quieting. “I just meant, it’s great that something nice came out of something so bad. Jeez, Laurel.”

“I’m just playin’,” Laurel said, reaching out to pat Drew’s knee. “It’s all good.”

Mandy smiled, pleased that her friends approved. She leaned back in the chair so they could get a better look and both slid a little closer to the monitor, gawking at the screen.

“I can’t believe I was there when you met,” Drew said.

“We haven’t met.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Hey,” Laurel said, “I thought you said he was our age.”

“He is,” Mandy replied. “He’s seventeen.”

“You sure? Boy looks like he’s already got a couple of years of frat parties behind him.”

“He does look older,” Drew agreed. “Like my brother’s age or something.”

Mandy leaned forward and looked closely at the picture. The shadows on Kyle’s cheeks seemed more pronounced, even more than they had the night before. Another shadow, one she hadn’t noticed the night before or any other time she’d looked at the picture, lay across his brow, disappearing into the bigger shadow cast by his saluting palm. When she pulled away from the details of the pic, she had to admit Laurel and Drew were right; he did look older.

“Once,” Laurel said, “I met a guy online, and he was looking all fine and boylicious. So we meet up, right? He’s got this big old nasty mole on his cheek, and I’m all ‘Where the hell did that come from?’ I figured he Photoshopped it out of his pic or something, because this girl doesn’t go for before-shots. A boy has got to complete Extreme Makeover before he comes callin’ on the L.”

“That was Hoyt, wasn’t it?” Drew asked.

“Yeah, Hoyt. So, I’m all pissed off, because I’m thinkin’ he was playin’ me. But I get home and open his picture and there it was, right there on his face as bold as you please. I just didn’t notice it before.”

Mandy remembered this story now. They were freshmen at Lake Crest when it happened. Laurel spent the rest of the semester being mean to Hoyt, which seemed odd to Mandy since Hoyt didn’t do anything wrong.

“Well, it’s just a bad pic,” Mandy said. “He shot it in like two seconds while we were chatting.”

“Looks good enough to me,” Laurel said.

“Yeah, and you were really smart to have him do that,” Drew said. “I mean, he could have been anybody, even that scary guy that got Nicki.”

The Witchman, Mandy thought, remembering his beaklike nose and pointed chin. For a few days, that image of his wild-eyed rage, was everywhere: the Internet, the news, and her own dreams. Sometimes in the middle of the night, she woke with that old, wrinkled face hanging before her eyes, even after the nightmares he wandered into had ended.

“If we’re playing show-and-tell,” Laurel said, “I got something you have to see.”

She got up from her seat on the bench beside Drew and walked to the bed, where she picked up her handbag. Returning to the bench, she sat down and placed the bag in her lap. From it, she pulled a small handgun out by the grip, dangling the weapon between her thumb and forefinger like it was a piece of smelly trash.

Both Drew and Mandy pulled back in shock. Drew covered her mouth with a palm, her eyes wide with astonishment.

“What are you doing with that?” Mandy asked angrily, hating the sight of the gun.

“A gift from Dad,” Laurel said, still dangling the thing between her fingers. “It’s not loaded yet. He won’t give me the clip until I take lessons, so guess how I’m spending the next three Saturdays?”

“Why didn’t you tell him you didn’t want it?”

“God, I’d never have a gun,” Drew said.

“Yeah, well, it was take it from him or spend the rest of my life in my room. I figured this was the lesser of two stupids. In a few weeks, he’ll chill out, and I can shove it in a box in the basement. Until then, I’m packin’, girls. So, don’t be dissin’me or I’ll pop a cap in your asses.”

“That’s so not funny,” Mandy said.

“Totally not,” Drew agreed.

Laurel laughed and dropped the gun back in her bag. “You know I’m anti-gun. As soon as I can rid myself of it, I will.”

“Your dad’s really worried about you,” Drew said, sounding jealous.

Mandy knew that Drew’s dad was pretty much nonexistent. Including the candlelight vigil, Mandy could count the number of times she’d seen him on her fingers. He worked a lot; he’d struggled to raise Drew and her brothers on his own ever since his wife had run off to “find herself.” That had been ten years ago. Apparently, Drew’s mom was still lost, and so was Drew.

“My dad’s a whack job. What kind of dork gives his teenage daughter a gun? I’ve been asking for a car for the last two years, but instead of a Beamer, I get an Uzi.”

“Just keep it in your bag,” Mandy said, “and don’t go telling everyone you have it.”

“Right, because nothing makes you more popular than fire power. I’m not telling anyone except you guys.”

The next surprise on that Thursday afternoon was for Drew. In a lot of ways, it was even more shocking than Laurel’s gun show.

A ring tone had them all scrambling for their cell phones, until Drew announced, “That’s mine.” She looked at the caller ID before answering and turned as white as a ghost. “Oh my God!”

“What is it?” Mandy asked, thinking it had to be something terrible.

But just as she asked the question, a wide nervous smile cut across Drew’s lips. “It’s Jacob,” she said, her voice a high squeal. “My God, Jacob Lurie is calling me.”

“Why do I think you had something to do with this?” Mandy whispered to Laurel.

On the other side of the room, pressed into the corner, twirling her hair with a finger and clutching the cell phone to her head, Drew nodded and said, “Sure.”

Laurel leaned closer and said, “I figured this was the only way to shut her up about him. Besides, he likes her too.”

“I thought you hated Jacob.”

“Hate is such a strong word. I just feel better when I don’t have to look at him. Drew’s the one that’s got to go out with him, not me.”

Mandy nudged Laurel, knowing she was being far nicer to Drew than she’d ever admit. She’d never seen Drew so excited, though something or another often excited Drew. This was a good excited, a happy excited.

“Oh God,” Drew gushed into the phone. “I know! It’s totally like that.”

“You realize we’re going to hear about nothing else for the rest of our lives, right?” Mandy said.

Laurel’s face scrunched dramatically in a pretended expression of sorrow. “I know. God help me, I know.”

Mandy didn’t know exactly what to make of the last two surprises of the day. After gushing and babbling about Jacob’s call (We’re going to a movie tomorrow. God, I have to buy an outfit.) Drew left in a fidgeting swirl of exhilaration. Laurel, whose father still insisted she be home before dark, left with her.

Alone, with another hour before her mom got home, and nearly two before her father would appear, Mandy signed online and immediately searched her buddy list for Kyle’s handle. Disappointed that it wasn’t there, she checked her e-mails. When her doorbell rang again, she was reading an announcement from Trinity King, head of the yearbook committee, informing the student body that they were dedicating a full-page memorial to Nicki Bennington. As such, they needed photographs and suggestions for text.

The doorbell rang. Mandy rose from her chair to look out the window, and was surprised to see a large green van in her driveway. A bouquet of flowers was painted on the side of the van. Beneath this, GREEN GUY FLORISTS was written in large white letters.

Flowers? she thought.

The doorbell rang again. With the thrill of anticipation urging her on, Mandy ran down the stairs, her hand hopping down the banister as she rushed for the door. She got there just as the deliveryman rang a third time.

Mandy opened the door and gasped. The man, a roly-poly guy with thinning red hair, held a simple vase from which sprouted two dozen red roses amid a spray of baby’s breath.

“Mandy Collins?” the man asked.

“Yes,” she said, barely able to speak for the knot in her throat.

“You have an admirer.” The man handed her the vase and made a check on his clipboard. “Have a nice afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Mandy said, closing the door.

She filled her eyes and nose with the wonderful flowers, holding the vase tightly so she didn’t drop the gift. “Beautiful,” she whispered. In the kitchen, she set the vase down on the counter and searched for a card. Kyle sent her these. She just knew it. She didn’t know how he found her address—probably just looked up Collins in the phone book—but it didn’t matter. He sent her flowers, beautiful roses. Holding the small envelope, her nervous fingers fumbled with the flap. Finally getting it open, she yanked at the card…

And her heart sank a little.

I’m really sorry. Dale.

Disappointed and annoyed that he would finally do something romantic after she dumped him, Mandy carried the flowers upstairs and set them on the windowsill. Afternoon light kissed the petals and made the water-filled vase glow. What a creep, she thought, staring at the bouquet. What was she supposed to do now? Just ignore the gesture, move on, never mention it? Or did she have to be polite, thank him? Wouldn’t that just make things harder?

“Crap,” she said to the flowers. “Beautiful crap.”

“Grind them up in the food processor and drop the mess on his doorstep,” Laurel said over the phone. “Too little, too late. Next!”

“I’ll leave those kind of dramatics to you and Drew.”

“So, what are you going to do?” Laurel asked.

“I don’t know. That’s why I called you.”

“Are you going to tell Kyle?”

“God no. This has nothing to do with him.”

Mandy looked at her computer screen, more precisely at her buddy list window. Kyle still wasn’t signed on. She really wanted to chat with him. He always made her feel calm and cool. Great. The one night she really needed to chat, and he pulls a vanishing act. Where are you?

“So, that just leaves dealing with Dale, and you’ve already dealt with Dale.”

“So, you don’t think I should call and thank him? I mean, it’s a pretty big deal if you think about it.”

“Big deal? His daddy’s got more scratch than Puffy. He could send you a car, and it wouldn’t be a big deal to him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s still got some lesson to learn.”

“Okay, L,” Mandy said. “Jeez, I thought you liked Dale.”

“Dale is fine, as in fine face, fine bod, and financially secure, but he treated you wrong. You did the right thing. You gotta look out for yourself.”

Later in the evening, near eleven, Mandy shut down her computer. The last surprise of the day was that Kyle never signed on. He never even wrote her an e-mail. She went to bed worried she’d done or said something to make him mad. That was silly, of course. She didn’t do anything. The last time they chatted, he was in a good mood, only signing off because his mom needed him for something.

But you mentioned talking on the phone, Mandy thought. He made a couple of jokes, then suddenly had to go. Was there a reason he didn’t want to talk to her, something about his voice? Maybe he sounded like Mickey Mouse. She didn’t know, but the question ran through her mind and, like a lullaby, carried her off to sleep.