Desires of the Dead

Girls not only noticed the pair of boys but also giggled behind cupped hands and waved at the two of them.

Jay was either unaware or chose to ignore them altogether. Mike, on the other hand, was not. And did not. Not only did he notice the interest he attracted, he seemed to enjoy it.

Violet recognized it immediately for what it was: Mike was as much an attention whore as Chelsea.

Violet was fine with that. Chelsea, not so much.

Violet let Jay draw her through the crowds that bottlenecked near the entrance. She liked knowing that he belonged to her while all those envious eyes looked on.

“I guess Chelsea’s not the only one who’s into Mike,” Violet whispered while Jay dragged her over to stand in line at the counter.

Jay glanced back to where Chelsea stood on the outskirts of three girls from school who were animatedly chatting with Mike.

“Yeah, she’s not doing too good, is she?” Jay agreed.

“I thought she’d have him eating out of her hand by now.” Violet wrinkled her nose, worrying over her friend.

“You mean like you have me doing?”

Violet smiled up at him and then bumped him with her shoulder. “Yes. Exactly like that.”

Chelsea caught the two of them spying on her, and Violet flashed an apologetic smile. Chelsea rolled her eyes in response. She sulked as she made her way over to join them.

“Get me some fries.” The lack of a question in her statement was somewhat reassuring. She was still Chelsea. Disheartened but bossy.

“Giving up already?” Jay asked Chelsea, after the girl behind the counter took his order.

Chelsea shrugged. “Nah, just taking a break. I’ll wear him down eventually—it’s just gonna take longer than I thought.”

“There!” Violet exclaimed, shoving Jay. “Do you see that? That’s what I’m talking about!” She pointed at the girl getting his fries. Obviously she didn’t realize they were for Chelsea. “You only ordered a small, and she’s getting you a large. She probably won’t even charge you for it.”

Jay shook his head. “She’s just confused, that’s all. If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure I pay for the large.”

“Ugh! I give up. That’s not even the point! She’s only doing it because she thinks you’re hot.”

“You’re crazy.” Jay laughed at Violet, and the girl behind the counter laughed along with him as she set down the overflowing basket of fries. There was no way she’d heard what they were talking about.

“Can I get you anything else?” She cocked her head to the side. She looked like she could be a cheerleader, very peppy.

At least she wasn’t openly suggestive. Perky and flirty, Violet could deal with.

“Nope,” Jay answered, handing her a twenty.

She counted out his change and slipped it back to him in slow-mo. And there it was . . . the drawn-out hand brush.

Violet grinned on the inside, keeping her expression perfectly blank. Predictable.

“Well, let me know,” the girl bubbled hopefully.

Jay handed Chelsea her fries, and Violet reached for his milk shake.

“So is he following you or what?” Chelsea asked, shoving several fries in her mouth at once.

Violet looked to Jay: Is who following him?

But Jay wasn’t listening. In fact, Jay wasn’t even there anymore; it was just her and Chelsea. Jay had gone to get Mike, so they could find a table.

Violet gave her friend a baffled look. “You’re so weird sometimes. What are you even talking about?”

Chelsea’s confused frown mirrored Violet’s. Her voice was thick with impatience. “Hello? Right front corner table? The guy from the other day.”

Violet turned to look. A sea of faces churned around her, moving in and among the tables, but she still didn’t see who Chelsea was talking about.

She twisted around to face Chelsea again. “Who?”

“When you were talking to that lady after school.” And then, exasperated, because it was so obvious to her, she added, “The hot guy who was waiting outside your car.”

Violet’s mind worked quickly, and when she figured out who Chelsea was describing, alarm seized her stomach. She spun back, this time scanning for someone in particular.

And there he sat, staring back at Violet. Violet could feel his dark blue eyes cutting through her, dissecting her. She felt as if she were crumbling beneath the weight of his penetrating stare.

Violet wasn’t sure what to do, wasn’t sure how she felt. Was it possible to be burning up and icy cold at the same time? Or was she just numb?

The boy watching her didn’t move, didn’t do anything. He scarcely acknowledged that Violet had spotted him. There was just the slightest tightening at the corner of his eyes to give away that moment of recognition.

Violet glanced over to Jay and Mike, who were coming back now, heading right toward her. Dread squeezed her throat, and she winced.

She hadn’t told Jay about the FBI. She’d kept it to herself, like so many things lately.

Maybe he would worry. Or tell her parents. Or maybe she still felt guilty about everything they’d been through this past year . . . all because of her.

And now this. Here.

She shot Chelsea a warning glance and hoped Chelsea would understand the meaning: Don’t say anything!

But Chelsea didn’t notice her pleading look. Mike was back, and Chelsea was on again. Smiling, flirting, charming.

The real Chelsea was gone. And that was good news for Violet; her friend would be too preoccupied with Mike to blurt out anything about the other day.