* * *

“Don’t do anything. Stay put. I’ll be over in just a minute.”

  “No, no Marti, don’t hang up!” The phone clicked even as I said the words. I reluctantly hung up too, rapping my fingers on my desk. I could feel waves of worry rippling through me all the way from my toes up into my spine and across my scalp. I waited a few minutes and then leapt up, snapped open my door and galloped down the stairs with energy I hadn’t had in years.

  “Does pizza sound good for dinner?” My mom asked from the kitchen as I came down.

  “Sounds great!” I said, walking by.

  “Are you ready to tell us all about your trip?”

  “Um, actually Marti’s coming over. We’ve got some stuff we have to work on before Monday.” I said, feeling guilt twinge in my stomach. It wasn’t really a lie. After all, we did have stuff we needed to get done before Monday; I just doubted we’d be working on that tonight.

  My mom looked surprised and a little hurt. “You saw Marti all week long? Don’t you want to hang out with us tonight? Dad and I were going to watch a new Psych. And I still want to hear about the vacation.”

  “Sure, mom I just need to go talk to Marti real quick ok?” I didn’t wait for an answer. No way it should take this long for Marti to walk forty feet.

 

She should have been here by now. I thought nervously.

Mom looked after me, a confused frown sitting on her face. “What do you have to talk about?” She called, as I pulled on my TOMs and headed out the front door.

  “Just school stuff. Guy drama and whatnot!” I answered back. At least that was the truth. This was certainly drama. Mom opened her mouth to say more, but I swung out the door before she had the chance. “Marti?” I called through the starry night. Not a sound could be heard but the trickle of Mr. and Mrs. Shonebourne’s garden fountain and the low hum of the freeway in the distance. Marti wasn’t on the sidewalk. I started walking faster, then sped to a jog. “Marti?” The night was still secretively silent. I looked down at the ground as I ran, waiting for that one stupid bump in the sidewalk to trip me.

  My eyes caught hold of something shiny on the damp cement. I stopped and went back. It was Marti’s bracelet. Her mom had given it to her on her eighth birthday.

 I picked it up, my mind swirling. Could this week get any worse?

 

Asked. And answered.

I felt a cold cloth slip over my face, a strange smell filling my nose. The calm world of my sleepy neighborhood disappeared into a foggy black realm where the only dreams allowed are nightmares.