? ? ?
The next morning, he woke up to what he thought was the world ending. He’d imagined it before—watching from his window as flames fell from the sky with the news on loud in the background and neighbors screaming, maybe even his parents running into the room to hug him one last time. But he’d never imagined it to be quite so loud, with a roaring coming from all directions. Maybe it was an earthquake, he decided, jumping out of bed and running over to stand in the doorway. He waited there for a minute, the adrenaline waking him up with every nervous blink of his eyes, and eventually realized that the house wasn’t even shaking.
He ran out to the living room and before he could even get to the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard, he could see what was going on. There was a bulldozer digging a very large hole behind his house.
“No way,” he said aloud.
There was no going back now, was there? He had very few surprises in his life and this one hit him hard. He took a seat on the edge of the couch and leaned forward, letting his head hang between his legs. He covered his ears and closed his eyes and let himself sway a little on the balls of his feet. Maybe there wasn’t an earthquake, but the world still vibrated and shook all around him. His thoughts stabbed him like knives and suddenly his shoulders were so heavy he could hardly keep from falling all the way down to the floor. He gasped for air, his lungs never getting full enough to satisfy him. If someone had been home, they would’ve heard it, the sound of someone suffocating on his own breath. It sounded like he was dying, and it felt that way, too.
He composed himself after a few minutes, grabbing a glass of water in the kitchen and taking a seat at the counter. His thoughts still spiraled, and his body ached with a lack of energy that only came after a sudden attack like this. Could he go out there for them? Would he be able to go outside without freaking out? Would it kill him?
Then he thought about Lisa. She had no idea what she meant to them, did she? She probably felt like some stranger invading their personal space and she definitely was, but she could very well end up saving them all. And what the hell was he supposed to do if she didn’t want to come back? What if just a little over an hour with him was enough to satisfy her curiosity? He wouldn’t be surprised one bit if she never showed up again, and now he felt bad about that, too.
Around lunchtime, Solomon was doing his schoolwork at the kitchen counter and watching the backyard with one eye. A couple of times, he made eye contact with a few of the crew guys and immediately put his head down like it had never happened. He didn’t like these strangers walking around in his backyard, right there where he could see them from all angles of the living room and kitchen. This was his inner sanctum, and it was being violated by loud machines and strangers in work boots.
He thought about going to the garage, but the one little dim lightbulb wasn’t enough to solve matrices under. He settled on his dad’s office, figuring it would be quiet enough if he shut the door. Then, as soon as he got started, he was interrupted by the telephone. He only ever answered it if his parents were calling or if he recognized the number. But, despite that not being the case, Solomon had a feeling that it was Lisa Praytor. So he picked up.
“Hello.”
“Solomon!” Lisa said with a burst of enthusiasm.
“Hello,” he repeated.
“What’s up? Me? I’m currently skipping study hall to make photocopies for a Student Council fund-raiser. This is my life.”
“Oh,” he said. “I’m just . . . doing homework actually.”
“Oh, yeah? I didn’t even think about that. I guess it’s all homework for you, right?”
“Right,” he said.
“Look, umm, what’re your plans on Saturday night?”
“Lisa, we’ve been over this.”
“Right,” she chuckled. “So, you want some company?”
“Are you serious? Yeah, sure. I mean . . . there’s not much to do around here.”
“There are no boring places, only boring people,” she said with confidence.
“All right,” he said.
“Great. Be there around six if that works for you.”
“Of course,” he said.
“Great. See you then, Solomon Reed.”
“Bye.”
So she wanted to come back. A reallive teenage girl who could’ve spent her time doing all sorts of normal teenage things with other normal teenagers wanted to come hang out with Solomon Reed on a Saturday night. It was enough to make his stomach start gurgling and his head get a little woozy. There was no denying it. Now he knew it to be absolutely true: He had a friend. And he was terrified of her.
TEN
LISA PRAYTOR