Chapter Two

My dad decides to drive me to school the next morning. It's just one more thing to add to the "strange" category. My parents rarely drive me to school. Typically I walk down to the bus. We chat, dad and I, on the way down to school. He's grinning and teasing me like always. I don't think we've ever had a conversation alone that hasn't at least had one "Don't tell your mother" in it. This one is no exception. I try to relax a little. Maybe this just happens to be one of the days he can go into work late. It's always been a bit of a treat to have them drive me. I have to admit, I enjoy it. Spending time alone with my dad where we can laugh and have fun, even if it's only for a short car ride, is awesome. They're so busy that I've learned to relish every chance I get. As we get close to school I yank my backpack from the floor between my legs and drop it on my lap so I can slip one arm through a strap.

"Just drop me off on the corner, Dad."

"On the corner? It's not that much farther. I can drop you off right in front."

I roll my eyes at him.

"Yeah, and everyone will see me. I can walk from here. That's what everybody does."

A tiny wrinkle appears between his eyes. Normally Dad gets stuff like that. I don't have to try to explain it like I do with Mom. We've had this discussion before, but apparently we are going to need to have it again. I'm not sure why he suddenly thinks I'm not capable of walking the rest of the way. Maybe this trip isn't a coincidence. He looks worried about me. Like he's afraid something is going to happen between the car and school if he's not with me every second of the way. I don't get it. Well, I do, sort of. I know something is up, but when that something hasn't been discussed in any way it's hard to be fully understanding when he acts differently. Just because something might be wrong doesn't mean I'm going to let him drive me to the actual door though.

"Mickey…"

"Dad, it's like one block. I'm thirteen. I think I can handle walking that far on my own."

Then I add in a "Jeez" for good measure. It works. He pulls over at the corner to let me out.

"Have a good day."

"Yeah," I call back without bothering to look at him as I climb from the car.

I start toward the building only to realize my dad hasn't moved yet. Immediately I stop dead and swivel to face him. I cross my arms firmly over my chest and glare at him. I've inherited a lot of things from my parents. My mom's blue eyes and blond hair. My dad's waves, though in my hair they are closer to curls. I even have my dad's charming smile, which he insists, combined with my looks, will make me a major heartthrob when I get older. One other thing I inherited, and the most important at this moment, is my mother's glare. It works wonders. Dad flashes me a beaming smile, trying to act innocent, waves, and pulls away. I shake my head at him and continue along the sidewalk with everyone else making the trek toward first period. My thoughts shift back to where they were last night instead of today's geography test where they should probably be. I am absolutely, one hundred percent positive that something is going on with my parents. As I walk I don't pay attention to what's going on around me; I'm too focused on trying to solve this puzzle. The strap of my backpack keeps sliding off my shoulder, but that happens so often that I nudge it back up without a thought. It's good I can do that because I don't have any extra thought to spare. When you don't have enough pieces to actually complete a puzzle you need as much creativity as possible.

And then my backpack suddenly stops moving. Not, "miraculously stays on my shoulder" stops moving. It stops moving with me so suddenly that I'm yanked backward and off balance.

"MICKEY!"

I was so distracted that I hadn't even realized Jack had been calling my name and trying to get my attention. Considering the drastic measures he'd just taken, he had probably been trying for a while. Oops.

"Hey, Jack."

"Where were you, man?"

"Geography test," I lie smoothly.

"Like you need to be worried about it. You ace everything," he grumbles.

He's right. Almost every subject we have comes easily for me, though I could live without the choir class. Most of the kids in my grade hate geography. Jack's one of them, except that he really hates geography. He thinks it's hard and boring and useless. I would probably agree if my parents hadn't traveled to a lot of the places we learn about. It makes it a lot easier to memorize a location on a map when you're discussing a trip they took once. Hearing their stories makes it a lot more interesting too. My parents being weird do have a few benefits.

I shrug.

"There are a lot of rivers. I want to make sure I know them all."

Again, it's a stretching of the truth if not an outright lie, but he buys it. I've never talked to either of my friends about my suspicions except for that one time I'd asked them to accuse their parents of being secret agents. They would think I was being ridiculous even if I did run through all the proof. According to them there is absolutely no way my parents are cool enough to do something like that. If I didn't live there and experience it all myself, I would probably agree with them. For now I box the subject up in my head and try not to think about it. I need to start focusing on school or my teachers could catch me drifting. I turn my full attention to Jack's continued grumbling about geography. It's actually kind of funny, and I don't even bother trying to hide my smile.

By sixth period lunch he's still going on about the test even though we had it three periods ago. Now though he's added something new to his repertoire: I failed it for sure. I understand why he thinks that. The test was long and miserable, even for me. I'm pretty sure I at least did decently on it though. Tom's joined in cursing the test too. Apparently he didn't even finish the last page. Ouch. That sucks. I'm not surprised about that either. Tom isn't the fastest test taker. He worries about tests too much. I don't add much to their discussion. Everything I had to offer was covered in the first five minutes. They both know I did okay, even if we haven't seen the results, so it's not like I can join in the "I failed" party. Not that it's a major loss in my mind.

"What could be so interesting in a newspaper?" Nathan asked from the other side of the table.

All three of us stop talking and look at him.

"Where did that come from?" Jack asks.

Nathan points toward the large cafeteria window, and I instantly see what he's referring to. There's a guy sitting on a bench across the street and reading a paper.

"Who even reads newspapers anymore?" Tom demands. "Everyone just goes online."

Jack and Nathan snicker. I just watch the guy more intently. As he goes to turn the page the paper drops a bit, revealing a navy blue baseball cap without a logo. I frown. That cap had just triggered something for me. Hadn't I seen it before? Earlier today? I stare at the guy and dig back through my memory to check. I'd been upstairs. In geography, that was right. I'd finished the test a little bit early and had been left to stare blandly out the window until the bell rang. I remember seeing a guy sitting across the street in his car checking a map. At the time I hadn't really thought much about it. Well, except for thinking the guy had to be majorly lost or going somewhere pretty far away. He'd had the map out for a while. Was it the same guy? I'm really not sure. Chances are it's not, and I'm just being paranoid because of my parents' sudden nervousness at home. Jack and Tom go back to their conversation about the test, but I keep watching the newspaper reader. Maybe I am just being paranoid, but if it is the same guy, I want to make sure I can recognize him again. Of course even if I keep watching him, the only reason I think I've seen him before is because of that hat. Without it, I wouldn't have any idea who he was.