Huh. He’s gonna grunt at me for checking messages and then call his girlfriend on speakerphone? Whatever. The ringing ends as a woman answers, “Yes, sir?”
Yes, sir? I pause mid-tap and dart my eyes across the center divide. Yup. Sex freak. Bet he makes her ask permission to come. Hell to the no. I shake my head and return my attention where it belongs, on my phone. I can’t believe he’s going to make me listen while he orders his submissive to strip and wait for him next to the front door. He’s probably gonna make her kneel too. What an asshole.
“Sandra, I need one of the IT guys to send me the feeds for all of Everly Jensen’s social media accounts.”
Wait. What?
“She’s a senior at Penn. Grew up in Ridgefield, Connecticut. You should be able to locate her easily enough.”
“What are you doing?” I interrupt, confused and annoyed.
“Facebook, Twitter, Instagram,” he rattles off. “And whatever other sites college girls are currently using to post selfies on the internet. That will be all, Sandra.” He ends the call with a tap to a control on the steering wheel.
“Hello, I’m sitting right here. Did you want me to friend-request you or something?” I wave the phone in my hand as I talk. “Because that”—I point in the direction of the speakers in the dashboard—“was a little melodramatic.”
“You were more interested in your phone than talking. So I’m curious about what’s online that you find so fascinating.”
We’re on Titcus Road, headed towards I-684, traffic is light, people still enjoying the long Thanksgiving holiday weekend. And I’m still annoyed. This is not the drive back to school I had planned.
“That’s called stalking, not curiosity,” I say, my interest in what my friends are up to forgotten.
He laughs. The fucker actually laughs at me. “So it’s okay for you to stalk Finn, but it’s not okay for me to stalk you? You’re priceless, Everly. I think I’m really going to enjoy you.”
“Enjoy me? You don’t have me.”
“I will.”
Four
Ten Years Ago
“Chloe, he’s here,” I whisper.
“One second,” she replies before I hear her yelling to her mom, “I’m going to Everly’s!” There’s a muffled reply from her mom and then she confirms she’s on her way.
“Attic,” I whisper again.
“Gotcha.” And the line goes dead.
Four minutes later the screen door slams as Chloe arrives. The stairs creak as she jogs up and then she appears in view as she walks through our second-floor game room.
“She’s in her room,” Eric calls out to Chloe as she walks past and heads towards my closed door down the hall.
“I know, thanks!”
She disappears out of sight but my door cracks open and then closed as she makes her way into my room. A second later she’s boosting herself through the open attic entrance inside my walk-in closet via the dresser I’ve placed below it for this very reason.
“Hey,” she whispers as she tiptoes across the floor joists until she reaches the platform I’ve set up next to the vent leading into the game room. She lies down on the sleeping bag I’ve laid out. “What are they doing?”
“Playing video games.” We’re whispering, but luckily the games they like to play are pretty loud, so we don’t have to be very quiet. “He looks good in that Eagles jersey, doesn’t he?”
Chloe nods. “So cute.”
“I love baseball.”
“The Eagles play football, Everly.”
“Oh.” I pause. “Well, I’ve got plenty of time to learn about football. I’m only twelve. He’s not going to take me seriously until I’m at least sixteen.”
“Probably not,” Chloe agrees.
I flip open my notebook. It’s pink and says Dreams & Schemes on the front cover in gold cursive. It’s where I keep all of my Finn Camden notes. I draw pictures in it too. I’m getting pretty good. I add a note to remind myself to learn about the Eagles before flipping to the back. That’s where I practice writing Everly Camden. Mrs. Camden. Mrs. Finn Camden. I’m already really good at it, but practicing never hurt anybody.
We’re quiet then, watching Finn and Eric through the vent until Chloe speaks.
“My dad cancelled.”
“What? Why?” She was supposed to go to New York next week to visit him. Her parents divorced three years ago and she hardly ever sees her dad anymore.
“He said he had a business trip.” She shrugs, but I see the tears welling up in her eyes.
He’s so stupid.
“Well, he’s dumb and I have an even better idea,” I say, throwing an arm around her.
“What?” She wipes her eyes and composes herself. She doesn’t allow herself to get upset very often.