Midnight on Strange Street, page 18
Dani thought back to her first sight of the suits, in front of Taft Middle. They had been there to investigate what Lola had done in the cafeteria. Now they were showing up in Lola’s backyard.
“Yeah,” Dani said. “I think they do.”
Avery studied the ground. With a pensive expression, she said, “I’ve been thinking of something else, too. Something about our memory plan.”
Bastian flinched. “The plan’s going to work. Maybe Glow Expo wasn’t the right place, but—”
“No, I know,” Avery interrupted. “I still think it’s a good hypothesis. But I’ve been thinking, back at Glow Expo, all our memories—they were nice, but they were kind of random: a glowboard, rainbow sprinkles, the Grand Canyon. Well, Lola and I…we’ve practiced sharing our memories together. And personally, the ones that have stood out? They’re not of things, they’re of people. Memories with my mom and with you all. I wonder if maybe we should focus on memories like that. Memories of people we love.” She cast a tentative look at Lola, then the others. “I think those are the most powerful.”
Bastian seemed to consider Avery’s words before saying, “Yeah. I mean, yeah. That makes sense.”
“Avery’s right,” added Lola. “Those are the best memories she and I have shared.”
“Well,” said Dani, “it can’t hurt. Memories of people, huh?”
“Memories of people you love,” Avery clarified. “Connection, you know? That’s got to convince the aliens this world’s worth keeping around.” She scrunched her nose. “Now, what about the DGE? We still don’t know what that is. Do you all think it’s connected to the silver suits?”
Dani made a face. “The silver suits are creepy, and they’re watching us. That’s all we need to know. Does it matter who they are, or who sent them?”
“I think it matters a lot,” Avery replied. “We don’t know who’s on our side right now, who we can trust. We all agreed not to tell our parents, but”—Avery pointed at Lola—“you and Bastian showed us that memo from Nando. We never decided we could trust him.”
Lola’s eyes got big. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think…Nando is one of the bad guys?”
“No,” Avery said. “Not necessarily. But we can’t—”
“Hey,” Bastian interrupted. “Nando can be trusted. He’s our brother.”
“Okay,” Avery said slowly, “but he is with a secret government organization. And you two are his brother and sister.” She reached out to touch Lola’s arm. “Maybe you’re too close to know if—”
“What?” Lola cried, pushing Avery’s hand away. She staggered to her feet. “I—I can’t believe you’d actually think that. You know Nando. He’s only been nice to you.”
“Yeah, but he—”
Lola shook her head fiercely, her eyes shining in Cedar House’s twinkle lights. “How could you say something like that?”
Avery raised her hands. “It was only an idea. I didn’t mean—”
“No. No. I don’t want to hear any more.” Lola turned to Dani. “Is the meeting adjourned?”
“Uh…” said Dani, bewildered. When there were fights in Cedar House, Lola was never part of them; that was Dani’s territory. Avery looked just as shocked. “Uh…” she repeated. “Yeah, I guess. There’s nothing else new to discuss.”
And so the Sardines filed out of Cedar House and into the starlit night, Lola stomping ahead past Avery. But just as they were walking away, Radar let out a deep bark.
“Hey, calm down, boy,” Avery said.
Radar barked louder, more insistently, pointing his nose back toward Cedar House.
“What is it?” Avery looked around. “A squirrel? What?”
“Look.” Bastian pointed to a piece of paper tacked above the clubhouse entrance, fluttering in the wind. Dani stepped ahead of the others and ripped the paper down from the brass tack holding it in place.
The message was in red ink, written in a bold and slanted script:
STAY AWAY FROM HAZARD HILL.
AVOID THE RACE AT ALL COSTS.
SINCERELY,
A FRIEND
Avery sat in a booth alone, a copy of The Hobbit, by J. R. R. Tolkien, on the table in front of her. Normally, Avery relished any chance she had to read a chapter or two, uninterrupted, when she had a spare moment. This morning, though, she couldn’t concentrate, no matter how much peril the hobbit Bilbo Baggins was in. This morning, her dad was fifteen minutes late (and counting) for their brunch appointment at Pizza Palace. And this morning, Avery was thinking about what awaited her on Hazard Hill. Nothing but danger, if the note tacked to Cedar House was to be believed.
Dani was convinced that the Grackles had written the message.
“Friend? Yeah, right,” she’d said. “They’re trying to rattle us.”
Bastian had agreed with Dani, but Lola had stayed quiet. Avery had asked, “What if it’s the silver suits?”
“The silver suits are after us,” Dani had said. “Why would they warn us?”
Avery had shaken her head at that. “Maybe it’s someone who knows the silver suits. Who knows something we don’t.”
In the end, the Sardines had come to no certain conclusion, but Dani had crumpled the note and said, “We won’t be scared off. The race is everything. Nothing’s changed.”
Only, something had changed between Lola and Avery.
Wincing, Avery remembered how Lola had pushed away her hand in Cedar House, deep hurt in her eyes. She wished now, more than anything, that she could take back what she’d said about Nando…even if she did think it might be true. Avery didn’t want for Nando to be on the side of the silver suits, but he had arrived in Callaway at a very convenient time, and he was working for the government, in a top secret job that not even Lola and Bastian knew details about. Wasn’t it possible that he could be telling the silver suits secrets of his own? Secrets that Lola and Bastian had shared with him? Only, they’d never suspect him because he was their family.
Still, Avery thought, you shouldn’t have said so.
She couldn’t shake the memory of that terrible look on Lola’s face, or the way she’d stormed out of Cedar House. And now, in the morning light, every minute that ticked by felt like an eternity. Where was her dad? Avery was wasting time—time she could be at Lola’s house, apologizing.
Pizza Palace was filled with the buzz and bloop of old-fashioned arcade games. Pinball machines lit up in displays of colored lights, beckoning players to plunk down their quarters. In one corner, a couple of kids were taking turns at Ms. Pac-Man, shouting whenever one of them lost a round. There were families all around, digging into plates piled high with cinnamon sticks, salads, and Pizza Palace’s famous breakfast pizza: crust topped with spinach and home fries and slathered in cheddar cheese.
“Hey, kid.”
Dani looked up at the waitress who’d stopped by her table—a grumpy-looking teenager with a chewed-up pen tucked over her ear.
“The place is packed,” the waitress said, “and you’re taking up a perfectly good booth.”
“I know,” said Avery. “I’m waiting on—”
“Don’t care who you’re waiting on,” the waitress snapped. “If your party doesn’t show in the next five minutes, you’re gonna have to get up.”
The waitress didn’t stick around for Avery to reply. She stalked off to another table to set down ruby-red tumblers of orange juice and soda.
Avery looked at the clock above the salad bar. It was almost nine thirty, which meant her dad was almost a whole half hour late. Avery felt like slumping down in the booth and disappearing from view. The next time the waitress came by, she’d leave before she could get into trouble. She’d just glowboard home with an empty stomach.
Another minute passed, and Avery swallowed, trying to combat the awful dryness in her throat. Had her dad canceled plans again and, this time, forgotten to clue her in? She should’ve known better. She should’ve—
Mr. Miller burst through the front door, a phone held to his ear, searching the restaurant with frantic eyes. Avery raised a hand to get his attention, and when he spotted her, he hurried her way with an apologetic grin.
“Whew,” he said, reaching the table. “You’ll never believe the phone call I’ve been having. Didn’t realize a place like Callaway was filled with as many charlatan rental car companies as there are in LA.”
Avery, still a little stunned, stammered out, “R-rental car?”
“Well, sure, Veemeister.” Her dad laughed. “Didn’t think I was going to be chauffeured all around town, did you? Took way more negotiating than I thought, but I finally got something lined up. Anyway, you hungry?”
Avery bit her lip. She’d noted that, for all his excuses, her dad hadn’t said he was sorry for showing up late.
“Yeah, I’m starving,” she said pointedly.
Still grinning, Mr. Miller waved down the grumpy teen waitress, who didn’t get any less grumpy when he ordered two buffets and a coffee with soy milk, not regular, and stevia, not sugar. Then he and Avery received their plates and filled up at the buffet. Avery picked out two cheese sticks, two cinnamon sticks, and the three biggest pieces of breakfast pizza she could find.
“Healthy appetite,” her dad noted when they took their seats.
In reply, Avery shook a hefty helping of pepper flakes on everything—cinnamon sticks included. Then she took a giant bite of her first slice of pizza.
Mr. Miller picked at his house salad. “It’s a beautiful day for a race,” he observed.
Avery gave an affirmative grunt through her pizza-filled mouth. Then she took a long gulp of her Dr Pepper.
“Do you even know what kind of race it is?” she finally said.
“Sure I do. Your mom told me about it, and you’ll be impressed: I did some research online. Draft training, huh? Looks pretty cool.”
“So, what?” she asked. “Did your documentary plans get canceled?”
Mr. Miller blinked in surprise. “Why would you say that?”
“Dunno,” said Avery. “It’s just really weird that you’d want to come here when you’ve got work to do.”
Her dad speared a cucumber slice and chewed it in silence. Then he said, “You know, Vee, I’d really like to talk about you this morning. Not work. This is Avery’s day.”
Avery felt a tap on her heart—a small fracturing. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished for her dad to say those exact words. But hearing them now, she didn’t feel particularly better. She was still mad.
“So,” she said, “what do you want to know about me?”
“Well, what have you been up to? How’s school been? Why did you decide to get a dog? All of that. Any of that. Whatever you want to talk about.”
Avery studied her dad’s hazel eyes. Her eyes. Then she decided to be honest. Partly honest, anyway.
“I’ve been skating, mostly. Practicing for the race. School’s been okay, but I’m glad it’s out for the summer because there’s this kid there named Mitchell that I don’t like. And I got a dog because Mom said I could, and he’s great. I’m going to train him to jump a four-foot fence.”
Mr. Miller’s eyebrows shot sky-high. “Impressive.”
Avery found herself smiling a little. “Yeah, I know. Radar’s the best.”
“I imagine,” Mr. Miller said after some silent eating, “it’s a strange new time for you. I remember being your age. A lot of changes, but a lot of excitement, too. You’ll be in high school soon. That’s a big deal.”
“Yeah,” Avery said noncommittally. “I guess.”
“So, you’ve noticed changes? In your life?”
Avery squinted. She suddenly felt less like she was talking to her own dad and more like she was chatting with Taft Middle’s guidance counselor.
“What kind of changes?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. In your mood, your day-to-day life.”
Avery squinted harder. “Are you…talking about puberty?”
“What?” Her dad looked shocked at first, then burst into laughter. Avery had forgotten the way her father laughed—lightly, like popcorn kernels popping. “Veemeister, you’re something. I forgot what a killer sense of humor you have.”
The fracture in Avery’s heart got bigger. Did her dad really think that? Sure, Lola laughed at Avery’s jokes, but did her dad think they were really funny?
“I guess things have changed a little,” Avery admitted, careful with her words. “Life’s definitely harder now than it was when I was, like, nine. I have competitions to worry about, and homework’s harder, and we’ve got the Grackles to beat.”
Mr. Miller nodded at everything Avery said, but he didn’t look exactly satisfied by her answer. There was a kind of impatience in his eyes as he listened to Avery elaborate on the Sardines’ rivalry with the Grackles.
When she was finished, he didn’t say anything for a while, just ate his salad.
Then, right as Avery was swallowing a chunk of cheese stick, he asked, “Do you remember what happened at your school in LA? That…meeting with the principal?”
Avery almost choked. She coughed a few times, pounding a fist to her chest, and somehow managed to swallow the rest of the cheesy bread lodged there.
Did she remember? What kind of question was that?
“Uh…yeah?” she managed. “I remember.”
“Were you telling the truth that day? You really didn’t vandalize the bathroom, like that girl said?”
“I told you I didn’t,” Avery said.
And you didn’t believe me, a cold voice inside her added.
Her dad nodded, thoughtful, then asked, “Is there anything else you want to tell me about that day?”
Avery could have told him a lot. She could’ve told him how that was the day everything changed. It was the day she’d lost Katelyn as a friend and found out she had tele-whatevers. It was the day she’d learned that he, her own father, didn’t have her back.
Avery only crossed her arms and said, “That was a long time ago. I’ve got nothing left to tell.”
Her dad studied her then, with those same almost impatient eyes. He seemed ready to say something else, ask something else. But then he smiled, very broadly, and said, “I’m so glad this trip worked out. And the food’s fantastic, Veemeister. Excellent recommendation.”
Avery didn’t see how some iceberg lettuce, cucumbers, and carrot shreds could be fantastic, so she offered her dad one of her breakfast pizza slices. He was reluctant at first, but once he tried it, he wouldn’t stop raving. Then he and Avery talked about normal things, like the documentary he had been working on and the books Avery had been reading, including the one on the table. Mr. Miller told her that he’d first read The Hobbit when he was thirteen, too, and he’d been such a fan he’d made drawings of Gandalf every day in study hall for months—so often that once some kids caught wind, they’d called him Gandalf the Goof for the rest of junior high.
Avery made a face. “I guess you had to deal with your own Grackles.”
Smiling, Mr. Miller said, “Something like that.”
Talking became easier, and both Avery and her dad went back to the buffet for seconds. They didn’t leave Pizza Palace until it was almost noon. Avery patted her stomach as they walked out into the sun.
“Dude,” she said. “That was good.”
“Dude,” her dad said back. “It was.”
Then he offered to take Avery back to Cedar Lane in a cab, and since Avery really was afraid she’d work up a cramp skating in her stomach-bursting condition, she agreed.
They pulled out of the parking lot, and Avery watched the Pizza Palace sign in the taxi’s rearview mirror: a giant neon pizza. Slice by slice, it flickered from a whole pie to a darkened one, like some invisible mouth was munching it up.
Then, in a matter of minutes, the taxi was pulling up to 25 Cedar Lane.
When Avery opened the door to leave, her dad nudged her arm.
“See you in a few hours,” he said. “At the race. I’ll be the super-loud dude, cheering you on.”
Avery gave a cautious smile. “Sounds good.”
With that, she got out of the car and began to run toward her house.
“Wait!” her dad shouted from the open door. “What team do I cheer for?”
Avery’s fractured heart suddenly shattered. She stopped on the lawn and turned to face her dad.
He didn’t know.
He didn’t even know her team name.
“Sardines,” she mumbled.
“What’s that?”
“Sardines!” she shouted toward the cab.
Mr. Miller threw out two thumbs-up and shut himself into the car. Then the taxi was gone, and Avery was left with a bellyful of food and a head full of confusion. She wiped a tear from one eye, unsure of how it’d gotten there. Then, as she was about to head inside, she heard, Avery, wait!
One yard over, Lola Gil was running her way.
“I came as fast as I could,” Lola panted, reaching Avery’s front porch. “Was that…your dad?”
Lola couldn’t explain how she’d known that Avery needed her. The feeling had simply been there, in the place where the blue flame burned—a sudden and sure conviction that she should go to Avery’s house. Then she’d seen her saying goodbye to an unknown man, watching a taxicab turn the corner off Cedar Lane.
“I—” Avery began, before more tears appeared in her eyes, and she threw her arms around Lola. The two girls stood there for a long time, hugging each other in the summer light.
At last, Avery loosened her arms and whispered, “I’m really confused.”
Want to talk about it? Gently, Lola pushed the thought her way.
Avery nodded, and together the girls sat on the porch’s top step. The afternoon sun had warmed the concrete. Birds were calling from the trees. Somewhere close by, a lawn sprinkler was on, whirring along with a chuh-chuh-chatter-chatter-chuh. It was a perfect summer day. Perfect, except for the tears drying on Avery Miller’s cheeks. Lola wanted to blot them away, to tell her that everything would be all right.
“He just showed up,” Avery said. “Out of nowhere. He said he wasn’t going to make it to Glow in the Park, but he changed his mind last minute. I’ve been so mad at him, I told my mom I never wanted to see him again.”
