The Disappearance of Sloane Sullivan, page 3
“I saw your collision this morning and just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said with a shrug. “I thought maybe you could use a friend who isn’t trying to body slam you.”
Okay, not what I was expecting at all. “You saw that, huh?”
“You know, maybe I should call you Receiver of a Completely Uncalled-For Hallway Football Smackdown. Believe it or not, that’s not the way most of us welcome a new student.”
A tiny smile formed on my lips. “Maybe I should be Creator of the Full-Contact First-Day Meet and Greet. Guaranteed to get you up close and personal with your new classmates.”
He bit back his own smile. “Actually, I was hoping you’d be Needer of a Place to Sit?” He nodded at a table over his shoulder that was surprisingly empty.
My reply was interrupted by a husky voice shouting, “There you are!” over the cafeteria chatter. I turned and saw Sawyer rushing over.
Sawyer placed his hands on my shoulders. “Livie was afraid you got lost. Come on, you can pay over here and then I’ll show you to our table.” He nodded at the a cappella guy and muttered, “Hey, man,” before steering me away.
I peeked back over my shoulder.
“Watch out for flying sports equipment!” the guy called after me.
I grinned until I spotted a girl with a short black pixie haircut glaring at me from a nearby table full of girls now watching me. I knew what that glare meant: Mr. Welcoming Committee probably once belonged at that table and according to its current occupants, he was off-limits. The smile disappeared from my face.
“What do you want to drink?” Sawyer asked, drawing my attention back to him. “Water, juice, milk?”
“Water.” I pressed my lips together, annoyed at myself for forgetting I was in ground zero of high school social cliques. I already had Jason to deal with. I didn’t need any other complications.
Sawyer placed a bottle of water on my tray and took the tray out of my hands. “Let me pay for this.”
“What? Sawyer, no.” I tried unsuccessfully to pry the tray away from him.
He pulled a card out of his pocket and held it against a scanner by the cashier. “Already done.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I protested as I followed him across the cafeteria.
“I was the one who convinced Jason to play football this morning. This is my way of apologizing.” He shrugged, but his expression showed he considered it something more than an apology.
I hoped he wasn’t considering it a date.
Sawyer led me to the end of a table where Jason and Livie were already sitting next to each other. Livie slipped her hand out of Jason’s and waved when she saw us.
“So.” Sawyer settled into the seat next to me, across from Jason and Livie, and slid my tray over. “Are you from Tennessee?”
My heart skipped a beat. I had lived in Tennessee. Granted, it had only been for two months, but it hadn’t even been a year since we’d left. Please don’t tell me I have to worry about someone in addition to Jason recognizing me.
“Because you’re the only ten I see,” Sawyer continued without giving me the chance to reply.
I let out a shaky laugh. I could’ve hugged the person who created such a corny joke right then.
Livie groaned. “At least let her eat before you pile on the pickup lines. They’re hard to take on an empty stomach.”
Sawyer reached over and snatched a piece of pepperoni off Livie’s pizza. “You’re just jealous I found someone new to pick up. Plus, I think Sloane likes them.”
“I think you’re delusional,” Livie fired back. “And I’m actually thrilled you’ve found someone else to practice on.”
Jason leaned across the table toward me, a half smile playing on his lips. “They argue like this all the time. You’ll get used to it.”
It was a look I remembered now too, like the smirk. The one that always made it seem like he was letting me in on a secret.
Jason popped a tomato from his salad into his mouth. “So where are you really from?”
I hesitated, instinct warning me to tell him as little as possible. But this was why Mark created fictional backstories every time we moved.
“Pierre, South Dakota,” I lied.
“Wow,” Livie said. “What’s it like there?”
I bit back a grin. “Cold.” I’d never actually been to South Dakota, but I had lived in four of the six states that bordered it and that much I knew well. I peeked at Jason. “I lived there my whole life though, so I got used to it.”
“You probably didn’t get to see much water,” Sawyer guessed.
I furrowed my eyebrows. “It’s on the Missouri River. And there’s a large lake nearby.” Thank you, internet research.
Sawyer’s light brown eyes brightened. “But have you seen the ocean yet? The beach is so close. Maybe I can show you.”
I glanced down at my plate. I grew up in the Atlantic Ocean, like all the other kids who lived in my beach town on the Jersey Shore. But I hadn’t seen it since I left; I hadn’t even been back to the East Coast since I left. And I wasn’t ready to see it again. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Are you a senior?” Livie asked.
I nodded.
She frowned. “It must’ve been really hard to move this close to graduation. I moved here at the beginning of the school year and it sucked starting my senior year someplace new, even with the First Day Buddy I got.”
“It’s not that bad. My dad got a new job and he had to start right away.”
“But what about your mom?” Livie continued. “I mean, couldn’t you two have stayed in South Dakota for a few more weeks until you graduated and then met your dad out here?”
“I don’t have a mom,” I said.
Sawyer and Livie wore matching shocked expressions but Jason’s eyes were a bit narrowed, more curious than surprised. I pretended not to notice.
“I mean, I have one. I just don’t know where she is.” I stabbed a piece of chicken with my fork. “My parents were only sixteen when they had me. My mom stuck around until I was three but she wanted freedom and parties, not a toddler. So she took off and it’s been just my dad and me ever since.” It was a variation of the story we used every time Mark pretended to be my father.
Livie sat straighter. “Your dad’s been taking care of you by himself since he was nineteen? That’s so sweet.” She fiddled with the edge of Jason’s shirt around his bicep. “We should set him up with your mom.”
I put my fork down. “What?”
“Jason’s parents are divorced and his mom’s the best. She totally needs a sweetheart to sweep her off her feet.”
Disbelief coursed through me. I never would’ve thought it was possible for Jason’s parents to be anything other than fairy-tale happily-ever-after in love. What happened?
Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “You know she doesn’t like blind dates.”
“So we’ll have a welcome party for Sloane and her dad,” Livie said. She wrapped her hands around Jason’s arm and scooted closer to him. “I can help your mom cook and she can get to know Sloane’s dad before they go out. Then it won’t be a blind date.”
Even if Mark would’ve gone for that, Jason looked uncomfortable with the idea. And there was no way I was putting the two of them in the same room together. “My dad’s really busy with his new job. It might be a while before he has any free time.”
Livie’s shoulders fell. “Oh.”
Jason gave me a grateful smile. “I think you came at the perfect time. All the senior stuff is about to start.”
“That’s right,” Sawyer agreed. He bumped my shoulder with his own. “Tomorrow’s the senior scavenger hunt. Every team has to get pictures of different things around school and the team that completes their list the fastest gets to pick the music that plays when we march out of graduation.”
I inched my chair away from his. “Really? You can pick any song?”
Jason nodded. “As long as it doesn’t have curse words, anything goes.” He turned to Sawyer. “Remember last year was that continuous loop of the theme song to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood?”
“If we win we should pick ‘Fight for Your Right’ by the Beastie Boys,” Sawyer declared.
Jason pointed his fork at Sawyer. “Can’t go wrong with a classic.”
“Come on!” Livie whined. “Don’t Sloane and I get a say?”
I choked on a bite of chicken. “You want me on your team?” I’d already been plotting ways to avoid the whole thing.
“It’s part of your First Day Buddy experience. Mrs. Zalinsky was adamant about me including you on my team.”
Damn Mrs. Zalinsky and her thoughtfulness. “You really don’t have to—”
“Nope,” Sawyer interrupted. “There’s no getting out of it. You have to be on our team.” He patted my arm like he was comforting a confused senior citizen. “You’re part of the club.”
I opened my mouth then closed it, trying to figure out where he was going with this. “What club?”
Sawyer widened his ever-present grin. “You are Sloane Sullivan, right?”
My heart stuttered, but I plastered on a teasing smile. “Who else would I be?”
Jason’s eyes lit up as he held my gaze. “Two first names,” he explained.
I tore my eyes away from Jason to study Sawyer and Livie. “Wait. Do all of you have two first names?”
Livie pointed as she identified each of them. “Jason Thomas, Sawyer James, and Liv Dawson.”
Leave it to Jason to find a whole club. “Okay, but does Sullivan really count as a first name?”
Jason nodded. “It was my grandpa’s first name, remember?”
Memories I hadn’t thought of in years danced in my head: Jason’s grandpa dressed like Santa every Christmas, the way he’d pull quarters from behind my ear, going to his funeral when we were nine. My pulse raced. Is he asking if I remember all that?
“I said that when I saw your schedule this morning,” Jason continued.
I blew out a silent breath.
“There’s that cute actor from the FBI show with the tattoos. His first name is Sullivan,” Livie added, unaware of my momentary panic. “Oh, and the singer for some punk band I’ve never heard of before. Some girls were talking about him in class the other day.”
“Plus,” Jason said, “your first and last name start with the same sound. That cancels out the fact you think it doesn’t count.”
When Jason smiled, I couldn’t help but smile back. An obsession with both Superman and Spider-Man when we were little made him believe that anyone with first and last names that started with the same sound could really be a superhero in disguise.
Livie made a dismissive noise. “Of course they’ll count Sullivan. My last name’s Dawson and they let me in.”
“Dawson’s a first name,” Sawyer insisted. “What about Dawson’s Creek?”
“It’s a fictional first name,” Livie said. “Have you ever met a real person named Dawson?”
Sawyer laughed. “Some of us like having a first name based on a fictional character, right, Sloane?”
I turned to Sawyer. “How’d you know my name is based on a fictional character?”
He shrugged. “The only Sloane I’ve heard of before is from that movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”
My skin tingled as the very first time I had to pick a name—the time I’d accidentally started naming myself after fictional characters—popped into my head.
My dad spun in a circle, his eyes bouncing around the room without ever landing on anything, like he was in a daze. “What else?” He wrung his hands together. “Underwear. Did you pack underwear?”
My gaze darted to two burly guys in suits huddled between my twin bed and the desk Jason helped paint blue and purple. They were mumbling to each other, oblivious to the underwear comment. I studied the tiny duffel bag on top of my flower bedspread. “Yes.”
“We really need to get going,” one man insisted, examining his watch.
Dad nodded. He leaned toward me, beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. “Pick the thing you want to bring as your personal item, okay? I’m going to go pack a few things for Mom.” He rushed out of the room, leaving me with strangers.
The two guys by the desk glanced at each other, then followed Dad into the hall.
“What do you want your name to be?”
I jumped. I hadn’t heard the third guy, who’d been keeping watch by my window, sneak up on me. He smelled sweaty and I swallowed hard, trying not to throw up again.
“Well?” he prompted in his thick Jersey accent.
I balled my shaking hands into fists and blinked uncomprehendingly in his direction. Over his shoulder, I spotted Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland sitting on my bookshelf. “Alice,” I muttered. Because that was how I felt: like I was falling down a rabbit hole.
It was easier the second time, even though I was still terrified.
Mark turned off the TV and knelt in front of me. Something about his cologne calmed my pounding heart. I took a deep breath. The spicy scent was so much better than the stale-smelling lumpy couch I was lying on.
“I know it’s only been three weeks, but we need to move again,” he said in a soothing voice. “So you’re going to have to pick a new name.”
I gazed over his shoulder at Dad, who was leaning against the cramped motel room wall. His dyed brown hair was matted to his head and his brown eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, but he gave me a slight nod of encouragement.
I closed my eyes and imagined who I wanted to be. Because anyone had to be better than the broken girl Alice was.
“Beth,” I whispered. I’d just started reading Little Women and Beth’s character was described as living in a happy world of her own. That’s just what I needed.
“Hmm.” Mark rubbed his chin. “You picked Alice from the Wonderland book, right?”
I nodded, surprised he knew that. He hadn’t been in my room that day.
“Did you know Lewis Carroll based that character on a real girl named Alice Liddell?”
I sat up. “No.”
“What if we use Beth Liddell?” He stood. “It’ll be our little secret, the connection between your names.”
A hint of a smile formed on my lips. “Okay.”
And even though I soon found out Beth ended up dying in Little Women, that was how the tradition was born. I picked the first name and Mark picked the last. I went alphabetically, because it helped me remember what letter my name started with every time we moved, and he chose something related to my prior first name. Which was simple, given it always came from a book or movie or song. It gave me an easy answer when someone asked about my name. Because, like Sawyer, someone always asked. It was the one constant I found everywhere we went: people were curious.
I’d been Charlotte from Charlotte’s Web, Elise from The Cure’s “A Letter to Elise,” and Jenny from Forrest Gump. And now Sloane from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Hey, it was on TV when I was picking. And who wouldn’t want to be the girl having a fun ditch day with her boyfriend?
I nodded at Sawyer. “You guessed it—I’m named after Ferris Bueller’s girlfriend. And you—” I tapped a finger against my lip “—must be named after Tom Sawyer.”
Sawyer’s mouth dropped open in offense. “No. I’m named after Sawyer from the TV show Lost.”
I snickered. “That show wasn’t on TV yet when we were born.”
Jason chuckled.
“Busted,” Livie sang.
Sawyer blushed. “Okay, fine. I thought it would go over better with the ladies if I was named after a sensitive bad boy rather than some kid in a boring old book.”
I placed a hand over my heart. “I happen to like that boring old book. And if your ladies can’t figure out how to Google when a TV show first aired, maybe you need to find some smarter ones.”
Sawyer gave me a lazy smile as his eyes roamed up and down my body. “Maybe I should.”
Livie’s eyes danced. “It’s going to be so entertaining to watch you crash and burn again.”
Sawyer glared at her.
Dial it back, Sloane. Blend in. Be forgettable. Start asking them the questions. “So,” I said, “what other senior stuff is coming up?”
Sawyer wiggled his eyebrows at me. “Prom.”
“Career day,” Livie added.
“The senior trip,” Jason said.
Livie gasped and released Jason’s arm to point at me. “You and I can room together! This is perfect!”
Good God, how far is she going to take this First Day Buddy thing? “What’s the senior trip?”
Jason straightened a stack of napkins on his tray. “It’s a school tradition that all seniors take an overnight field trip to Charleston the last weekend in April. Everyone goes. We visit Fort Sumter and tour the city and eat good food.”
“And people smuggle alcohol along and party in their hotel rooms,” Sawyer said.
Jason shot him a pointed look. “But not too much alcohol, right?”
“What?” Sawyer’s voice was a little too innocent.
“Last time you drank, you got pissed someone beat you at cards and punched a hole in the drywall in your basement.” Livie shook her head. “I know you haven’t forgotten being grounded for a month.”
“Whatever,” Sawyer muttered. A blush crept up his neck.
Livie turned back to me. “So what do you think?”
School traditions and parties and alcohol were all things I tended to stay away from. Plus, I wasn’t sure how Mark would react to an overnight field trip. But a tiny flutter of excitement ran through me. Because traveling, actually going to a new place just to sightsee and hang out and not have to change names to do it, sounded amazing. “Is it too late for me to sign up?”
“Not at all. The forms are due in two days. You have to room with someone of the same sex and I’ve been having trouble finding someone.”
