The Rules for Disappearing (9 page)

I nod and lift my hand in a small wave.

Ethan points at me and Teeny. “This is Meg and her sister

Mary. They moved here from Arkansas.”

“Nice to meet you. Y’all want to come with us to Gus’s?”

I want to go with them. So bad. There’s a group waiting off to the side and it looks like they’d take me in without hesitation but I can’t do it. I’m still raw from the nightmare last night and faces of all the friends I’ve left behind parade through my mind.

I glance at Teeny and I can tell she would go if I wanted to.

“We can’t. We’ve got to get back home, but thanks for asking.”

Catherine smiles and says, “Maybe next time.” She hops up

from the ground and sprints off toward the others.

Ethan is a little slower to leave. “Sure I can’t talk you into it?”

God, if he knew the restraint I was using. “No. We really can’t.”

I watch him head back to his friends.

“Why didn’t you want to go?” Teeny asks.

“I did but it makes things complicated and I’m tired of things being complicated.”

“Me, too,” Teeny says, and then leans into me.

It’s not long before they’re piling in Jeeps and trucks and heading away from the river. Ethan looks back once but it’s just a quick glimpse. We’re left watching the small children and middle school kids.

—S

—N

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RULES FOR DISAPPEARING

BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:

When the suits tell you not to use the Internet, you should real y listen to them.

Ihate being the “nobody” at school. Everything in me goes against it. I want to buy products and make this boy haircut cute. Hit the Mac counter and load up on all the goodies I use to have at home.

Wear Seven jeans and North Face jackets. I want my little white BMW with leather seats and manual transmission that all the guys were impressed I could drive as well as any of them. Every poster in the hall makes me want to join their club. I want to be excited about the upcoming Mardi Gras Ball and stress over finding the perfect slinky dress.

Health class is the hardest hour to get through. Ethan’s here

and the way he watches me is alarming. I’m afraid he’s either one step from calling bullshit on my whole existence or asking me out on a date. Neither good. I can feel the curiosity and interest coming off of him in waves. Ben’s here, too. The hostility between him and Ethan is solid. And then there’s Emma, giving me the stink eye S—

every time she passes my desk. I know her type. If I just keep my N—

mouth shut when she starts crap with me, this would all die down.

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She’d get bored and move on to someone else. Problem is—I can’t seem to ignore her. So let the fun begin.

The class fills up just as the bell rings, and Ben and Emma walk in together. The teacher doesn’t even look in their direction. Ben nods and says “Hey” as he walks by while Emma rolls her eyes and mutters, “Loser.”

This is the weirdest class I’ve ever had. In the week I’ve been here, we’ve only had class in the classroom once. We’ve been to the library, the gym twice, and outside on the front lawn.

Mr. Knighton steps up from his desk and holds a fish bowl filled with little pieces of crumpled up paper. Behind him is a similar bowl.

“OK, class. In this bowl are numbers. Each person will draw

one. It’ll match with one other person in the class. That will be your partner for the rest of the year.” A few groans and whispers fill the room. “People, settle down. After the partners are matched up, one of you will pick from the bowl behind me. That will be your first project and you’ll have three weeks to finish.”

Sheer. Freaking. Panic. Last thing I need is to be stuck talking to the same person every single day. One part of me hopes I get teamed up with Ethan but the other prays I don’t pick him.

Holy hell, I could get Emma! I’m dropping out of school if that happens.

Mr. Knighton starts in the front of the room; everyone excit-

edly starts pulling small pieces of paper out of the bowl. By the time the bowl reaches me, a few people have already hooked up. I pluck out my slip and open it to find the number eight. I keep my number to myself, waiting for my partner to be picked.

—S

Everyone else says their number out loud as soon as it’s out of

—N

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the bowl. I hear my number and turn my head around quickly to see who it is. Ben holds his paper up with the number eight on it.

Oh, no.

He scans the room to see who his partner is, and I nod when his eyes stop on me. Emma looks pissed. My stomach sinks.

“Once you’re in pairs please move desks so you’re near your

partner and then turn them to face one another.”

Ben heads toward the desk behind me and slides in. I turn my

desk backwards. This is so awkward. I glance around the room and see Ethan and Emma rearranging their desks until they are facing one another. She is really pretty. Long, dark hair and startling blue eyes. She and Ethan look amazing next to each other.

“Well, Ethan and Emma, how funny things work out. Should

make things easy,” Mr. Knighton says and grabs the second bowl.

Ben grins at me from across the desks. “So, I guess it’s me and the new girl.”

I give him a small smile and look back to Ethan. He’s argu-

ing with Emma. “What did Mr. Knighton mean about Ethan and

Emma, about it being easier for them to do their project?”

“That’s right new girl, you don’t know. They’re twins.”

I want to bang my head against the desk. Great. She’s his sister.

His twin for God’s sake!

“Twins. You’ve got to be kidding?”

They look so amazing together because they look so much

alike. Same dark hair, same blue eyes. How can Ethan have shared a womb with her?

S—

“So you and Emma are together but you fight with Ethan?” I

N—

ask Ben.

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“Like her, can’t stand him.” His smile is huge.

Before I can ask any more questions, Mr. Knighton gets to our

table with the second fish bowl. Ben looks at me and gestures to the bowl. “You pick.”

I pull out a slip of paper that reads,
A Study of the Relationship
Between Physical Exercise and Learning Ability.
I show it to Ben, and he shrugs his shoulders like who cares.

Mr. Knighton walks to the front of the room after he finishes

passing the bowl around. “I will have your packet for your project up here when class is over. For now, I’m handing out questionnaires.

Any good partnership requires understanding about the person

you’re working with. Ethan and Emma, this assignment does not

apply to you so I’ll ask you to come to the front and help me sort the packets.”

This could be a disaster.

Ben takes the form from Mr. Knighton, hands me a blank sheet

of paper, and says, “Okay, let’s knock this out together.”

“First question: Where were you born?”

“Lewisville, Arkansas.” And if he asks me about that stupid

Fouke Monster, at least I’m prepared.

“Okay, I was born here.”

We both scribble our answers and I start to relax. Maybe this

won’t be so bad.

“Next question: What is your favorite food? Mine is a big, fat juicy steak,” Ben says.

I have to think on this. If I answer my favorite, it’ll open a ton of questions because I’ve yet to find it anywhere we’ve lived so far.

—S

So I decide to play it safe. “Pizza.”

—N

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Ben laughs. “Yeah, pizza would be my second choice.” He scans

the paper again. “Some of these questions are whack. If you could learn to do anything, what would it be?”

First thoughts: Read minds, become invisible, be invincible.

Can’t say those, though.

“Um, I’d want to learn how to sail a boat. I love being on the water,” I answer instead.

“That’s cool. I guess for me, I’d love to learn how to throw the perfect spiral,”

My blank look must give away my confusion because he says,

“You know. Football.”

Out of all the things, that’s what he picks. Whatever.

“Next question,” I say.

“If you could be any superhero, who would it be? Where does

Knighton come up with this shit?” Ben thinks for a second or two and answers, “I’d like to be Tony Stark from Iron Man. Coolest of the superheroes because he’s just a regular dude with a kick ass robot suit. And he’s super rich.”

Mr. Knighton was right. This questionnaire really helps you

know who you will be working with. I wish more than anything

Ethan was filling one of these out and I could just get a little peek at it.

This question stumps me. I know very little about the super-

hero world but I remember one that I wouldn’t mind being even if just for a day.

“Wonder Woman,” I say. With her lasso of truth, I could solve

S—

a lot of my problems in just a few hours.

N—

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We go through the remaining questions: What chore do you

hate doing? Ben: mowing. Me: laundry. What is your favorite body part? Horrible question if you ask me. Ben: chest (ugh!). Me: Can’t say eyes or hair because they look like crap now so I pick brain.

That’s the best part I’ve got working for me right now. And last question—What do you want to be when you grow up? Ben: NFL

football player. Me: I want to say free. That’s really all I want is to be free but I say nurse because that sounds normal and that’s what’s expected.

After class, Ben and I walk up to the desk to get our packet.

Ethan hands it to Ben but he motions for it to go to me. “You may as well keep it. I’ll just lose it.”

Emma walks up to Ben and says, “I can’t believe you got stuck

with her.” She says
her
with enough venom to make my cheeks turn pink. Ben shrugs then ushers Emma out of the room. Ethan’s busy passing out the rest of the packets.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were related to her?”

He stops what he’s doing and raises his head. He’s guarded.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t run off every time I tried to talk to you, I would have.”

He leaves the room and I feel stuck. I need him to lose interest.

Get pissed. Or whatever it takes for him to move on but I don’t like it.

At all.

I stop in the bathroom before my next class. The second I walk through the door, that same girl with the pink-striped hair is there.

She’s screwing around with the wall again. What the hell is she doing? I try to get closer but she holds her hand up.

—S

—N

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“Back off.” She runs from the room and I stare at the brick wall.

Something’s not right here but I can’t put my finger on what it is. I bang on the wall a few times, not really expecting anything to happen, and of course—nothing does. And then I figure it out.

That girl is nuts.

I wait for the bus in front of school, praying it will arrive soon, when Ethan’s truck pulls up to the curb. The passenger window

rolls down and I step up to the side of the truck.

“Don’t tell me you ride the bus.”

Embarrassed, I nod.

A man is standing on the other side of the driveway, looking

toward the truck. I can see him through Ethan’s side window but his features are hidden behind dark glasses and a baseball hat.

“Sorry for being an ass after class. I was pissed Ben could ask you all those questions and you had to answer them,” Ethan says.

“They were dumb questions.”

“Yeah, but I’ve been trying to get more than your first name out of you for a week now.”

“Well, I can tell you Ben would rather be Iron Man than any

other superhero.”

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Ben’s a dumbass.”

I can’t quit looking at the man. He’s just standing there. What is he doing—waiting on someone? Something about him makes me

nervous.

Ethan leans over and flings the door open. “Get in. The bus

S—

sucks.”

N—

I hesitate for a moment. As much as I hate it, we were on the

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right track after Health. One ugly comment now and he’ll back

away for good.

And that’s exactly what needs to happen but for some reason

I can’t explain, I’m scared for him to drive off and leave me with that guy.

“Does that man over there look weird to you?” I ask.

He turns and looks out his window and asks, “What man?”

He’s gone, just like that. I scan school property, looking for where he went, but I’ve got nothing. He couldn’t have just disappeared like that.

I’m being paranoid, I know, but I’m close to losing it so I jump in the truck before Ethan takes back his offer.

“You okay?”

I look for the man again through the back window as Ethan

pulls away from the school but I can’t find him. Was he really there to begin with? Am I completely losing my mind now? We turn the corner and the school is out of sight.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Where to?”

“Home.”

As we make our way toward my house, the only sound comes

from the radio, which is turned down low. It must be stress. That’s why I’m seeing people who aren’t really there—stress.