Death and the Girl Next Door

“No, it doesn’t,” she said. “I’m just not sure what you mean.”

Since Brooke didn’t shut him down or make fun of him, he seemed to grow more confident. “Think about it,” he said, straightening in his chair. “Have you ever noticed how he never gets into fights? How nobody ever messes with him? How when he walks through the halls, it’s like Moses parting the Red Sea?”

We both half nodded and half shrugged. Clearly Brooke had never really noticed either—Cameron was such an outcast and rarely garnered any attention—but we were both eager to hear more.

“There’s a reason,” he said, “no one will fight him. No one would dare. Even Isaac Johnson, the biggest defensive lineman Riley High has to offer, steers clear of Cameron Lusk.”

“Ha,” Brooklyn said, pointing at him. “You almost had me. Isaac Johnson doesn’t steer clear of anyone.”

“And Cameron Lusk isn’t just anyone,” he whispered loudly. He glanced around the room, making sure no one was listening before he continued. “That’s what I’m trying to say. You don’t know what he’s capable of.”

“Okay,” I said, seeing my chance to find out what happened that year and going for it, “so what is he capable of?” I held my breath, hoping beyond hope he’d open up.

But instead of opening up, he withdrew once again, as he had so many times before. “I don’t know. Just stuff.”

“Fine,” Brooklyn said, her tone questioning, “let’s suspend disbelief for just a moment and say you’re right. He’s unnaturally strong. First, how do you know all this? And second, why haven’t we heard of this great and unusual strength before?”

“I don’t know,” Glitch repeated defensively. “Maybe it’s a guy thing.”

“Another one?”

“We don’t go around talking about how strong other guys are, you know?”

“But if he’s that strong,” I said, pushing just a little, “surely we would have heard something.”

“We just don’t talk about it, okay? We just don’t.”

I suddenly realized he hadn’t been avoiding the topic of Cameron’s strength, but downright hiding it. I leaned in and looked into his hazel green eyes. “What happened, Glitch?”

His shoulders lifted as he took in a deep breath, and I thought he might give in. He gazed at me without blinking, like a memory had taken hold. Then he glanced down at his massive pile of ketchup.

“Never mind,” he said, shaking his head as if annoyed with himself. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I put my hand on his, partly to be supportive and partly hoping for a vision. “Glitch—”

“We need to warn Jared,” Brooklyn said.

I gasped. I hadn’t even considered what all this would mean to Jared. “You’re right. We have to find him.”

“I don’t know, Lor,” Glitch said, taking hold of my hand before I could get out of my seat. “Your Jared seems perfectly capable of handling himself. But you still haven’t answered me: Is Cameron Lusk stalking you?”

“No, it’s nothing.” I fished a fry from the carnage and ate it while trying to ignore the doubt on his face.

“I think the more pressing question,” Brooklyn said, concern lining her eyes, “is what the bloody heck was Jared talking about? What won’t hurt?”

My gut tightened at the mention of Jared’s statement, knotting painfully. Both of them looked at me as if I’d know the reason for such a bizarre promise. Well, I didn’t. But I did know it was bothering me a lot more than it was bothering them.

WAKING UP DEAD

For the first time in three days, Cameron Lusk seemed nowhere to be found. I walked out of the Java Loft and glanced around warily, expecting to find my stalker skulking in the shadows.

“Want me to walk you home?”

I turned as Glitch poked his head out of the coffee shop, whipped almond toffee cappuccino with nonfat milk in hand.

He raised his brows in question. “My pie’ll be out soon. What’s your hurry?”

With a smile, I said, “No, you and Brooke enjoy. And don’t fight! I have some research to do.” We hadn’t seen either Jared or Cameron since lunch, and Glitch’s confession about Cameron had me super curious.

His gaze traveled across the street to the town square. “What are they doing?”

A camera crew had set up shop in front of the old Traveler’s Inn, a historic and—according to town gossip—haunted hotel. It was the biggest tourist attraction Riley’s Switch had to offer, big being a relative term.

“I think it’s the Tourist Channel,” I said, shielding my eyes from the sun. “They’re doing a special on haunted hotels in America, and ours made the top ten.”

“Cool … and yet, creepy.”

“This coming from a guy afraid of turtles.”

Taking offense, Glitch straightened and pointed a finger at me in warning. “Turtles are not the innocent, harmless creatures everyone thinks they are. Mark my words. They’re secretly planning to take over the world. And then where will we be?”

I couldn’t help but giggle at the seriousness of his admonishment before shrugging my shoulders.

“Taken over! That’s where.” He glanced at his table. “Oh, my pie’s ready. Sure you don’t want some?”