Haunted (9 page)

“Any ideas on where to-” Rae began.

“I’m thinking,” Anthony interrupted, without looking at her.

“Well, don’t let me disturb you,” Rae muttered.

He pretended he hadn’t heard her. He had to keep focused. Where else? He thought Jesse played b-ball at the park
over on Magnolia. He didn’t go to the mall that much, but he might have ended up over there. What was the name of
that kid with the fully loaded computer? He and Jesse played some kind of on-line game over there. Was he even
from Jesse’s school? “I know you’re thinking and everything, but if you’re still taking me home, you should have
turned left back there,” Rae told him.

Anthony made a U at the next light, without bothering to comment. His silence clearly made her somewhat pissed
at him, and he kind of thought that was a good thing-focuswise. He split his attention between the road and coming
up with more places to look for Jesse. When he pulled into Rae’s driveway, she jumped out like her butt was on fire.

“So pick me up after school,” she said, then slammed the door and strode toward the house without looking back.

He had this impulse to run after her, and, he didn’t know, apologize or something. But it wasn’t like he’d actually
done anything to her. He couldn’t help it if she was so freakin’ sensitive. Anthony backed out of the driveway and
headed for home.

When he walked in the front door, he wished he was still in New Orleans-even in the chicken man’s freaky front
room. His gaze flicked from Carl, who was eating what looked like Lucky Charms off the living-room carpet, to Anna,
who was watching the Powerpuff Girls at an eardrum-piercing level while trying to keep the remote away from
Danny, who was yelling almost as loud as the TV. Zack, the so-called babysitter, was nowhere to be seen.

Neither was his mother.

Anthony strode over to the TV and shut it off, which briefly stopped the fight between Anna and Danny because
they both started yelling at him. Zack wandered in from the kitchen, holding a box of Snackwells. “I scored lunch,”

he announced.

“Lunch,” Anthony repeated. “Lunch. That’s lunch?”

“Luuunnch. What part of it didn’t you understand?” Zack shot back as he ripped open the box.

Anthony didn’t answer. He just headed into the kitchen. All the cabinet doors were hanging open, and he was
starting to see how Snackwells could seem like lunch. It wasn’t like they could eat a box of baking soda or some
vanilla. He slammed the closest cupboard shut. What was his mom thinking? Yeah, she was always sort of a flake,
but she usually managed to remember to go grocery shopping.

This was so not his problem. But what was he supposed to do? “Everybody in the car,” he shouted.

“McDonald’s run. If you don’t know what you want by the time we get there, you’re not getting anything.” He didn’t
plan on making a many-houred excursion out of the trip. And Tom and his mother were paying him back.

“Can I get large fries?” Danny asked.

“Yes, you can get large fries,” Anthony answered, imitating his little brother’s shrill voice. He heard the front door
bang shut, and by the time he reached the living room, it had been cleared out. He checked the front pocket of his
jeans to make sure he had the keys, then headed out to the car.

When they got to McDonald’s, Anthony automatically did a quick scan of the place. It was possible that Jesse
could be there. But he wasn’t, although Anthony spotted Brian Salerno.

“Yo, fat ’n’ smelly,” Salerno called from across the room. Zack snickered at Anthony’s grade school nickname but
only for a second-only until Anthony gave him a fast knuckle to the back of the neck.

“Hey,” Anthony answered. He didn’t bother to sound at all friendly, but of course Salerno came on over, anyway,
joining Anthony’s group and cutting in front of the couple who’d gotten into line behind them.

Salerno had just never figured out that he and Anthony weren’t, never had been, and never would be buds.

“So you ready for English tomorrow?” Salerno asked.

School. Why was the idiot Salerno bringing up school? It was the last thing Anthony wanted to think about. Like he
didn’t have enough to stress about without imagining sitting in his Bluebird English class with all the other morons,
trying to read one sentence out loud without screwing up.

The most important thing is getting Jesse back, he told himself. Screw English. Screw everything else until he and
Rae got Jesse back. Yeah, Rae wasn’t a quitter-even if she was a little pissed off-and neither was he. They wouldn’t
give up on Jesse, no matter how long it took.

Rae dutifully copied the definition for simile in her notebook-picking up some staticky thoughts, all hers, from the
pencil-even though she already knew
exactly what a simile was. How could she not, living with her dad? She glanced up and found her English teacher,
Mr. Jesperson, looking at her. He did that a lot. Clearly he hadn’t gotten over the idea that she needed a special
“friend,” someone to help her adjust to being back at school. Forget it, Mr. J., she thought, returning her gaze to her
notebook. You and I aren’t going to be doing the inspiring-after-school-special thing.

“Okay, all teachers are scum. Is that a simile or a metaphor?” Mr. Jesperson asked.

Anthony’s exercise book flashed into Rae’s mind.

Nothing about similes or metaphors in there. Just stuff like when you should use an apostrophe. She could still
almost feel those spots that had been nearly erased through. Feel the self-disgust that oozed through Anthony, like
if he couldn’t read that well, he was a total loser in every way.

The bell rang, jerking Rae out of her thoughts.

She jammed her notebook into her backpack, grabbed her purse, and rushed out. She wanted to get out of there
fast in case Mr. Jesperson decided he wanted a little heart-to-heart before lunch.

Rae’s steps slowed as she started down the hallway. She hesitated, then veered to the left, heading away from the
cafeteria and toward the library. She wanted to look up some info about learning disorders.

Maybe there was something Anthony could do, something his teacher wasn’t trying, that would make the English
thing easier for him.

And while you’re doing this good deed, you can skip going to the cafe, which you hate. What a saint.

But she didn’t turn around. She pushed open the door and stepped into the quiet of the library, then headed to the
closest computer monitor and typed in dyslexia.

Maybe dyslexia wasn’t what Anthony had, but it was the reading problem she’d always heard about, and Rae
figured it was a good place to start. She jotted the call numbers of a couple of books on the cover of her notebook
and tracked them down without a problem, then settled herself in one of the little cubbies at the last table in the
back.

“Okay, The Rewards of Dyslexia, ” she mumbled.

She flipped open the book and started to read the intro. Basically it said that people with dyslexia thought in
images, which let them think a lot faster than people who thought in words. Which was a good thing-there were
scientists and artists who probably couldn’t have done the stuff they’d done if they hadn’t been dyslexic.

Rae wondered what Anthony would think if she told him that. Would he actually get that having a different kind of
thought process didn’t mean he was a moron?

She kept reading. It turned out that even though people with dyslexia could be really smart, they had trouble
reading because if a word didn’t call up a picture in their mind-even a really easy word like the – it was hard for them
to understand it. Pretty soon if there were too many words without images attached, a dyslexic got brain overload
so bad, they could even start feeling dizzy or disoriented.

Which would probably totally piss Anthony off.

He liked to be in control. And who could blame him?

Rae was sort of a control freak herself. Just knowing that Jesse was out there somewhere and they couldn’t find
him…

Rae shuddered. This is about Anthony, she reminded herself. Someone she could help. She scanned the table of
contents and found a chapter that gave some exercises that could help dyslexics with words that didn’t bring up
images. Maybe Anthony and I could do some of these together, Rae thought. She flipped to the chapter and started
taking notes. Make that a very big maybe. It wasn’t like Anthony would be happy that Rae wanted to help him. He
didn’t like to be helped. They were alike in that way, too. Plus there was the little problem that Rae wasn’t supposed
to know how badly Anthony needed help.

Rae kept taking notes. She’d deal with how to get Anthony to try the exercises later. For now she’d just get them
down.

Someone took the seat in the cubby next to her, but she didn’t even glance up.

“Hey, Rae,” a low voice said.

Rae scooted back her chair, already knowing who she’d find sitting next to her. Yep, it was Marcus freakin’ Salkow,
looking amazing as always. She didn’t say anything, just raised one eyebrow, waiting.

“Hey,” Marcus said again. Then he started doing his teeth-clicking thing.

“Hey,” Rae muttered. She started to get up from her chair, but Marcus reached out and blocked her with one arm.

“I keep thinking about, you know, the other day in the hall,” he admitted. He leaned down and tightened the knot
on his sneaker, even though it didn’t need tightening.

Rae had this wild impulse to reach out and rest her hand on his silky blond hair. She twisted her hands together
until her nails pressed into her skin. “The day when you were a butt head, you mean?” Rae asked.

“Yeah,” Marcus agreed softly, not bothering to defend himself.

Why couldn’t he have gotten ticked and left? She really didn’t want to listen to him stumble his way through some
totally lame excuse again. Especially not while she was getting these freakish urges to touch him.

Marcus clicked his teeth. He glanced around nervously, as if he wasn’t sure exactly where to look.

Clearly he was still having trouble looking directly at her.

“Remember the ancient Egypt section?” he asked, nodding toward a row of books a few feet away.

Rae’s lips got hot and tingly. Did she remember that section? Oh, yeah. Another hot spot started up in her stomach.

How could she forget? Back in that row of books wasn’t the first place Marcus had kissed her, but they’d had a few
make-out sessions back there that were… molten.

She swiped her hand across her mouth, lipstick smearing across her palm. “Are you asking me to go hook up with
you back there?” Rae asked. “Is that the deal? You think I’m so pathetic that I’ll be happy to jump all over you like it’s
some kind of favor?”

“That’s not-” Marcus began to protest.

“I guess you haven’t gotten Dori trained yet.”

God, he was just like Jeff, sniffing around her because he thought she’d be desperate since no one at school
would want to be with her. As if she wouldn’t rather be alone. Rae stood up and grabbed her notebook, the dyslexia
would want to be with her. As if she wouldn’t rather be alone. Rae stood up and grabbed her notebook, the dyslexia
books, her backpack, and her purse, letting her old thoughts wash through her.

“No,” Marcus snapped. “You stay. I’m gone. All I was trying to do was explain-” He slung his backpack over his
shoulder. “Forget about it.” He strode away.

Rae stood there, holding all her junk in her arms.

Had she totally misinterpreted him? Was he just asking her if she remembered the ancient Egypt section because
it was a nice memory for him and he thought it would be for her, too-even now?

She took a step forward. She could still catch him.

Then she dropped everything back on the table.

Whatever his deal was, it was better to let him go.

She had much more important things-and people to worry about.

I wish she’d hurry the hell up, Anthony thought.

He didn’t like even sitting in the parking lot of Rae’s school. Everyone who passed him had to know he didn’t
belong here. Even if he wasn’t sitting in a freakin’ Hyundai, they’d know. But with the Hyundai it was like taking out
an advertisement. He leaned back his head and closed his eyes so at least he wouldn’t have to see the people
watching him.

A few moments later the passenger door swung open. Anthony opened his eyes and watched Rae slide into the
seat and slam the door. “Ready to roll?” she asked. She didn’t seem at all pissed off today. Rae clearly wasn’t one
of those girls who made a guy pay for weeks for one mistake. But then, he and Rae weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend,
and that was usually when he stopped himself and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Yana called me this morning before school,” Rae said. “She wanted to say good luck. Actually, she wanted to
come and help us, but she’s doing some project for school with a completely militant partner.”

“We don’t really need her,” Anthony answered.

Although it wouldn’t have been a bad thing. Rae’s grapefruit perfume or lotion or whatever was already filling up
the car. And it was… distracting.