Chapter 10:
My phone, nosily, began ringing at two in the freaking my morning. I covered my head with the pillow and groaned when it kept ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing…
Finally, it stopped and went to voicemail. But it started to ring again and I slammed my hand on the night stand, grabbing my phone and answering.
"What!?" I said harshly.
"What the hell happened to you!? You never came back and we began to worry! I thought you went to go get cotton candy! Since you answered, tell me where you are so I can go kill you, Max." I rolled my eyes at the last part.
"I thought you were kidnapped!" she shrieked.
"Nudge I was delayed," I said groggily.
"Delayed? What the hell do you mean, by 'Delayed'?"
"I drove around the parking lot for an hour," Nudge said. "Dylan walked the park flashing the only photo I had of you on my cell phone. I tried your cell a zillion times. Hang on. Are you at home? How did you get home?"
"Fang gave me a ride," I said.
"Stalker Fang?" she teased.
"Oh shut up," I mumbled.
"Besides, I didn't have much of a choice, did I?" I said tersely. "You left without me."
"You sound worked up. Really worked up. No, that's not it. You sound agitated…flustered…aroused." I could feel her eyes widen. "He kissed you, didn't he?"
I didn't answer. She shrieked and gasped wildly into the phone.
"Oh my gosh your first kiss! Sweetie, I'm happy for you! He did! I knew it! I've seen the way he looks at you. I knew this was coming. I saw it from a mile away."
I smiled. Always being exaggerated Nudge, I thought.
"ZOMG! Was it a peach kiss? A plum Kiss? Or-or an alfalfa kiss?" WTH?
"What?" I blinked. What the hell is an 'alfalfa kiss'?
"Was it a peck, did mouths part, or was there tongue? Never mind. You don't have to answer that. Fang isn't the kind of guy to deal with preliminaries. There was tongue involved. Guaranteed."
I sighed and anger fired in me. I was vulnerable to him and he took advantage of me. Next time I see him, he's going to go to the hospital…
"Let's talk about this later," I mumbled.
"Yeah right!" she squealed.
"You want me to kill you?" I asked.
"Seriously? You're going to keep me in suspense?"
"Please forget about it," I sighed.
"No way."
"Look I'll make it up to you," I said, not thinking.
"Fine…oh I know…you could come shopping with me!" My eyes opened wide, sleepiness banishing. I shook my head.
"B-but-" I stuttered.
"No Buts! Just yours in my car at four!" she squealed and hung up. I cursed and buried my face in my pillow. Hey I owe her and said I'd make it up to her…it's better than wearing makeup.
I'm going to kill her too. I slid deep into my bed. I pictured Fang's unprincipled grin and his glittering black eyes. After thrashing around in bed for several minutes, I gave up trying to get comfortable. The truth was, as long as Fang was on my mind, comfort was out of the question. Usually, when I beat up someone, they try to not get on my bad side. But Fang…he's just asking to get beat up all the time…but I don't beat him up…
Suddenly I sat up straight in bed and reached for my cell. I switched on the lamp.
The battery showed fully charged.
My spine tingled ominously. My cell was supposed to be dead. So how had my mom and Nudge gotten through?
Rain battered the colorful awnings of the shops along the pier and spilled to the sidewalk below. The antique gas lamps that were staggered down both sides of the street glowed to life. With our umbrellas bumping together, Nudge and I hustled down the sidewalk and under the pink and white striped awning of Victoria's Secret. We shook out our umbrellas in unison and propped them just outside the entrance.
A boom of thunder sent us flying through the doors. I followed Nudge around, my ear buds blasting Ramones.
"You've got to pick up the pieces," I sang. Nudge shook her head at me with a smile. Nudge said something and I took them off.
"Sorry, what?" I asked.
"Look around for something," she shrugged. I sighed and did as she told me to. My eyes picking out a lacy black bra from the pile. I shouldn't have been looking at lingerie. It naturally made me think about sexy things. Like kissing. Like Patch. Mentally, I pictured him, my hands on his neck and beating him up. I smiled at the thought.
Nudge caught me off guard with a pair of turquoise leopard print undies slung at my chest. "These would look nice on you," she said. I snorted and continued to listen to music.
What had I been thinking? I'd come this close to kissing Fang. The same Fang who just might be invading my mind. The same Fang who saved me from plunging to my death on the Archangel—because that's what I was sure had happened, although I had zero logical explanations. I wondered if he had somehow suspended time and caught me during the fall. If he was capable of talking to my thoughts, maybe, just maybe, he was capable of other things.
Or maybe, I thought with a chill, I could no longer trust my mind.
I still had the scrap of paper Fang had tucked inside my pocket, but there was no way I was going to the party tonight. I secretly enjoyed the attraction between us, but the mystery and eeriness outweighed it.
From now on, I was going to flush Fang out of my system—and this time, I meant it. It would be like a cleansing diet. I tried distracting Nudge from my quietness; she can pry out answers with her chattiness. See, there's a reason why everyone calls her Nudge-since you have to Nudge her to shut up when she talks fifty miles per hour and won't stop.
I paid. Then, thinking it would be easier to forget about Fang if I was looking at something more benign, I wandered over to the wall of lotions. I looked at the names, trying to get my thoughts off the idiot. Then stopped. It was like someone had dropped a scoop of ice cream down the back of my shirt. It was the same shivery jolt I experienced whenever Fang approached.
Nudge and I were still the only two customers in the shop, but on the other side of the plate glass window, I saw a hooded figure step back under a shadowed awning across the street. Freshly unsettled, I stood immobile for a whole minute before I pulled myself together and went to find Nudge.
"Time to go," I told her.
She was flipping through a rack of nightgowns. "Wow. Look at this—flannel pajamas, fifty percent off. I need a pair of flannel pj's."
I kept one eye glued to the window. "I think I'm being followed."
Nudge's head jerked up. "Fang?"
"No. Look across the street."
Nudge squinted. "I don't see anyone."
Neither did I anymore. A car had driven past, interrupting my line of vision. "I think they went inside the shop."
"How do you know they're following you?"
"A bad feeling."
"Did they look like anyone we know? For example … a cross between Pippi Long stocking and the Wicked Witch of the West would obviously give us the school's slut."
"It wasn't Lissa," I said, eyes still trained across the street. "When I left the arcade last night to buy cotton candy, I saw someone watching me. I think the same person is here now."
"Are you serious? Why are you just telling me this now? Who is it?"
I didn't know. And that scared me more than anything.
I directed my voice at the saleslady. "Is there a back door to the shop?"
She looked up from tidying a drawer. "Employees only."
"Is the person male or female?" Nudge wanted to know.
"I can't tell."
"Well, why do you think they're following you? What do they want?"
"To scare me." It seemed reasonable enough.
"Why would they want to scare you?"
Again, I didn't know.
"We need a diversion," I told Nudge.
"Exactly what I was thinking," she said. "And we know I'm really good at diversions. Give me your jean jacket."
I stared at her. "No way. We know nothing about this person. I'm not letting you go out there dressed like me. What if they're armed?" Besides, sure I've given her some fighting lessons and she was good, but she didn't know how I disarm the person if he/she has a weapon. And I'm not risking her to know. "Sometimes your imagination scares me," Nudge said.
I had to admit, the idea that they were armed and out to kill was a little far fetched. But with all the creepy things happening lately, I didn't blame myself for feeling on edge and assuming the worst.
"I'll go out first," said Nudge. "If they follow me, you follow them. I'll head up the hill toward the cemetery, and then we'll bookend them and get some answers."
A minute later Nudge left the store wearing my jean jacket. She picked up my red umbrella, holding it low on her head. Other than the fact that she was a few inches too short and had darker skin and different colored hair, she passed as me. From where I crouched behind the rack of nightgowns, I watched the hooded figure step out of the store across the street and follow after Nudge. I crept closer to the window. Though the figure's baggy sweatshirt and jeans were meant to look androgynous, the walk was feminine. Definitely feminine. She'd be easier to beat up than I thought.
Nudge and the girl turned the corner and disappeared, and I jogged to the door. Outside, the rain had turned into a downpour.
Grabbing Nudge's umbrella, I picked up my pace, keeping under the awnings, steering clear of the pelting rain. I could feel the bottoms of my jeans dampening. I wished I'd worn boots.
Behind me the pier extended out to the cement gray ocean. In front of me, the strip of shops ended at the base of a steep, grassy hill. At the top of the hill, I could just make out the high cast iron fence of the local cemetery.
I unlocked the Neon, cranked the defroster to high, and set the windshield wipers to full power. I drove out of the lot and turned left, accelerating up the winding hill. The trees of the cemetery loomed ahead, their branches deceptively coming to life through the mad chop of the wipers. The white marble headstones seemed to stab up from the darkness. The gray headstones dissolved into the atmosphere.
Out of nowhere, a red object hurtled into the windshield. It smacked the glass directly in my line of vision, then flew up and over the car. I stomped on the brakes and the Neon skidded to a stop on the shoulder of the road.
I opened the door and got out. I jogged to the back of the car, searching for what had hit me.
There was a moment of confusion as my mind processed what I was seeing. My red umbrella was tangled in the weeds. It was broken; one side was collapsed in the exact way I might expect if it had been hurled with force against another, harder object.
Through the onslaught of rain I heard a choked sob.
"Nudge?" I said. I jogged across the road, shielding my eyes from the rain as I swept my gaze over the landscape. A body lay crumpled just ahead. I started running.
"Nudge!" I dropped to my knees beside her. She was on her side, her legs drawn up to her chest. She groaned.
"What happened? Are you okay? Can you move?" I threw my head back, blinking rain. Think! I told myself. My cell phone. Back in the car. I had to call 911.
"I'm going to get help," I told Nudge.
She moaned and clutched my hand. I lowered myself down on her, holding her tightly. Tears burned behind my eyes. "What happened? Was it the person who followed you? Did they do this to you? What did they do?"
Nudge murmured something, I only heard "handbag." Sure enough, her handbag was missing.
"You're going to be all right." I worked to hold my voice steady. I had a dark feeling stirring inside me, and I was trying to keep it at bay. I was certain the same person who'd watched me at Delphic and followed me shopping today was responsible, but I blamed myself for putting Nudge in harm's way. I ran back to the Neon and punched 911 into my cell.
Trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice, I said, "I need an ambulance. My friend was attacked and robbed." This wasn't what I expected. At all…