Phobic (23 page)

Every time I close my eyes Mom charges at me again, jolting my lids open so I can’t escape the image. Todd’s gentle breathing is a staple in the silence. I consider kicking him awake, spewing more of the crazy truth, but I’m too drained. He probably wouldn’t want to hear it anyway, not after basically telling me he regretted our kisses.

I know Joel isn’t here, but I go into his room anyway, as if being there will help me feel closer to him or figure out where he’s gone. I wish I knew where he was.

Though it lacks any modern touches—except for the guitar leaning against the dresser—his room is pretty similar to mine. The same four-poster bed, the wash table with a porcelain bowl at its top. Striped wallpaper, floral rug, clouds painted on the ceiling. Moonlight spilling through the window reflects from the full-length mirror in the corner near Joel’s fireplace.

I’d thought this would make me feel better, that maybe being in his room I’d get some idea of where he is. But I’m struck with how alone I am in the darkened space, my only company the sliver of light spearing down the center of the rug from a gap in the curtains.

More than anything at this moment, I wish for my mother. Her smile, her patient way of explaining simple concepts like how to tie my shoes, the night she snuck a sandwich in to me because Dad had sent me to bed without dinner—they all strike my chest like the reverberation of standing too near thunder or directly under a colossal display of fireworks.

I sink to my knees at the side of Joel’s bed, cleaving to one of the four posts, unable to stand under the weight of who my mother has become, what she did. What she’s lost because of it.

Pain so sudden strikes my chest; a mingle-mangle of hatred, betrayal, longing. Sadness. I reach for Joel’s phone on his marble-topped nightstand. His phone. His phone shouldn’t be here—it should be wherever he is. Thoughts pile one on top of the other, and the worry I felt for him last night gushes in again, worry so thick it cakes in my chest like mortar.

Maybe if Joel didn’t have to take care of me he wouldn’t have disappeared like this. If Mom were around, Joel wouldn’t have so much pressure on him. I scroll along his contact list through tear-streaked eyes, as if seeing all these names would give me any explanations. And the anger grows because I know the one name I won’t find among the myriad of others.

Marian Crenshaw. Mom.

In a fit of rage I cry out and chuck the phone as hard as I can. It bangs to the wall with a heavy thud. Words claw from my throat, caged, distressed animals dying for freedom at last:

“Why aren’t you here? WHY AREN’T YOU HERE?”

I fall to the floor, sobbing. Before I know it, Todd’s arms crash around me, restraining and protecting.

“Shh,” he soothes.

“Why did she leave me?” I ask, clinging to him. And it’s no surprise that he has no answer, because I have none either.

He holds me there forever and not at all at the same time because flashes of her deranged eyes, her lurid riddles, they take me to some other realm, a realm where nothing else exists but me and these unanswered questions.

“You okay?” Todd asks.

I do a weird sort of nod as I lay on his chest on Joel’s bed, hearing the steady thrum of his heart. “Sorry you had to see that.”

“Piper. ‘Sorry’ does not even apply to what I’m sure you’re going through right now. I was a wreck when my dad left. It’s like parents condemn you to a never-ending baggage claim when they do crap like that, where the thing just keeps spinning and spinning and you have no choice but to keep collecting carry-ons.”

I chuckle, snuggling in closer to him. “In that case, I’m hauling around the entire plane.” A short pause ticks. “How did you get through it?” I ask him. “Your dad leaving.”

“I don’t know. I just did.”

“That helps a lot.”

He laughs. “I’m not really qualified to give a diagnosis for this stuff.”

“I already know what my problem is. I need the solution.”

He breathes in deeply, and his chest rises, lifting my cheek with it. “Football helps. Staying active. That way I know if he ever comes around again I can hold my own if he tries anything.”

I’m not really in the mood to take on any more heavy subjects, so I skip back to his first comment. Football. “I’ll just take up pro sports, then.”

“You? Playing sports?”

“Hey, it could happen.”

“Yeah, and I’ll take up dressing in drag.”

We both laugh again, and I savor the safety I feel in his embrace. Todd hugs his arms around me and presses a kiss to my temple. “Look, this might be bad timing, but I’ll be right back. Nature calls.”

I sit up, watching his form move in the darkness. I don’t want to be alone right now, but I don’t really have another option. Since my breakdown my chest feels lighter, like a huge load has been lifted. Mom is gone. She did what she did. And maybe I’ll never know why, but it helps to have this extraordinary impression of relief.

I realize I’m glad the kids at school know about it. Now I have nothing to hide. I don’t have to be ashamed.

I take a breath, staring across the floral rug. Joel’s lamp offers a pale glow to the room. The wash table and its porcelain bowl stand as sentinel beside the door. I stare at the decorative etching along the wash table’s front panel. Any minute now Todd will come back in, I tell myself. He’ll be right back.

Noises scrape along the wall. My body tightens, heart drumming against my ribs. Oh no—the house; our kiss. It is upset after all.
Please don’t land us in the basement. I can’t bear to go down there again.

Fear ripples over me, and more creaking noises come from the wall, but this time it sounds like they’re coming from outside.

Fighting my inclination to stay put, I dip my toes to the floor, pressing my tongue to the top of my mouth to keep from screaming at the mere thought of something attacking from below the bed.

I force my steps, pulse thrashing like the repeated shots of a gun. Fingers quaking, I part the curtain and peer into the darkness outside. It could be Todd, playing a prank on me or something.

The pounding in my body fades, and I become enraged. Jordan and Sierra are climbing a ladder leaning against my house. A ladder leading directly to the floating door.

No doubt, they have no idea Todd is here. They probably wouldn’t dare do something like this with him around.

I crank open Joel’s window, getting a breeze of cool air. Sierra swears, and Jordan steps on her hand, nearly dropping the axe in his. My pulse catches, and I think of the fake profile picture. An
axe
. They’ve got to be joking.

“What are you doing?” I ask, though it’s obvious.
Come on, Todd. Hurry back so they can see you here
. On the other hand, that might not be a good idea, to see him with me in a darkened bedroom. I scald inside at the memory of his kiss.

Jordan grins. Grins! “Out for a stroll,” he says.

He must be here because I called. Because he knows Joel is gone. “I told you that door doesn’t open. Get out of here or—”

“Or what? You’ll sic your freaky house on us?”

“I’ll call the cops!”

He keeps climbing. “How do you know it doesn’t open? You’re too scared to try it.” Then his voice lowers, and I hear him mumble, “Keep climbing, Sierra.”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she mutters, her glance darting to me. The dark night is thick, but I peel my eyes for some sign of acne on her. I can’t tell if it’s still there or not.

“It’s all a hoax. The freakiest thing about her house is her!”

Eyes twisted in a glare, he climbs until he reaches the door. At the exact moment his hand touches it, something brushes my side. The hairs on my arms raise, like a feather trickles over them.

Panic cords through me like a prickly web. I stare behind me. But I’m alone in the room.
Todd, where are you?

“We’ll see if nothing is in it,” Jordan says, lifting the axe. My stomach leaps in my throat. He wouldn’t dare.

“Don’t!” I shout. But it’s too late. The blade hacks into the side of my house with a
thwack
. And I gag, slamming into the wall. Pain screams at my side, and I goggle at the warm, dark wetness on my hands.

Todd strides into the room, rubbing his hands together. “Who are you yelling at—Piper!”

My stomach slick with blood, I blank out and barrel over the window ledge.

I
’m in a bed, but it’s not mine. My body reels with the woozy, sublevel feel of existing on medication and the stale tang of an overnight, un-brushed mouth. Even my feet tingle with an odd detached feeling, like I’ve been lying here for too long.

A thin white blanket rubs against my bare legs as I shift. Wait, I’m not wearing any pants. Holy moly, where are my pants?

“Hello?” The word gurgles against a frog in my throat. I clear it with a grinding sound and try again. “Hello?”

I push to my elbows, but the movement zings against the cushion of medication, giving a squirt of pain in my right side. With a wince, I grip the high railing covered in buttons on the side of the bed. I scan the tubing along my arm and stop at a needle in my hand.

A needle in my hand.

I slam back against the bed, nearly losing my head.
Jordan
. Arguing with me, Sierra and her—my—zitface backing down. Whacking my house with an axe. Blood gushing from my stomach as Todd rushed in the room.

“Todd,” I call out, but my voice rattles like a chainsaw. Todd, and that kiss. Oh man,
that
kiss
.

I press the button on the sidebar. With a
vvvvv
, the bed lifts and pushes me to sit. Three sticky pads with little metal pegs stick to my chest. A blank TV screen analyzes me, and I watch the line of my heartbeat trek up and down in a consistent squiggly line on the machine beside my bed.

“Glad to see you’ve woken up,” says a man in a long white jacket. A circle of dark hair sits like a horseshoe around his bald head. A clipboard rests in his arm. “That’s quite a blow you took.”

Numbness coats my limbs, but it’s incomplete, like I can tell something more than what I feel now is going on under whatever drugs they’ve given me. Among every other thought in my mind, only one is forefront.

“Where—where is my brother? Have you heard from him?”

The doctor stands at the end of my bed, hugging the clipboard to his hip. He lowers his glasses. “We’ve been trying, but he hasn’t answered or returned any of our calls. Is there someone else you can call? Grandparents? Distant relatives? Your friend’s mom couldn’t provide any information.”

Hang on—he must mean
Todd’s
mom. Great, she’s the last person I need knowing Joel is gone. I blink, and with a shaky hand pull at the IV in my other. A dull ache comes from my side. “I have to go.”

The doctor stands again. “Miss Crenshaw, you may not recall, but you were stabbed in the stomach. You’re not going anywhere.”

Stabbed in the stomach. Aw man, Joel! I need my brother!

“On a scale of one to ten, will you rate your pain for me?”

“Where’s my phone?” I ask, ignoring him. “I might have a message from him. He’s probably, ack—” I cringe. “He’s probably worried about me.”

The doctor steps closer. “Miss Crenshaw, I can assure you, we’ve done all we can to contact him. His boss hasn’t heard from him either.”

His boss. Warren must have tried to contact Joel, too.

“What day is it?” I ask, giving in to the pillow behind me.

“Monday. You’ve been out for over eighteen hours. Not only were you stabbed, but you also had quite a fall, Miss Crenshaw. You’re lucky to be alive.”

The doctor prattles on about rib bruising and whether I’ve had a tetanus shot or not, but thinking is too much to ask right now. Lucky to be alive. What happened? Jordan axed my house, but it went into
me
instead! And then—I grab my head, as if that will help me sort my thoughts. Falling. I fell. Oh my gosh, I fell out the window.

“Todd was there,” I mutter. “I need—where’s Todd?”

“He’s at school,” a woman’s voice cuts in. “Where he should be.”

Mrs. Dawes. I cringe and rest a hand at the bandage on my stomach. I catch sight of a bruise on my arm. She hates me already—no doubt she knows Todd lied and was at my house instead of Kody’s.