OCDaniel, page 16
“She is not nuts,” I said sharply.
He wasn’t intimidated. “They call her Psycho Sara.”
“It’s not nice,” Emma murmured.
My mom looked caught between rebuking Steve and wanting to ask me if it was true. I decided to save her the trouble. “They call her that because she doesn’t like to talk much. And since the other kids spend their time calling her Psycho Sara, can you blame her? She’s actually a genius, if you must know.”
My mom and dad exchanged a surprised look. I was a little shocked myself.
“Can I be excused?”
My mom nodded. “Sure. Steve?”
“Sorry,” he muttered.
I just left my pizza half-eaten on the plate and stormed up to my room, closed the door, and flopped onto my bed. I felt the heat in my cheeks and the back of my neck and was still wondering where that had come from. I knew everyone called her Psycho Sara. I even knew they were probably whispering about the fact that I was hanging out with her now. But I felt strangely protective of her. Like she had showed me who she really was, and now I was tasked with defending her. Not that she needed it.
Another thought suddenly occurred to me. Did I like Sara Malvern? It didn’t even make any sense. I liked Raya. Cool, normal, popular Raya Singh, who reminded me of what I wanted to be—normal too. Sara was the world I wanted to get away from. The crazy one where our minds didn’t work right and we chased murderers and I tried to figure out a girl who made no sense.
I wanted to just like Raya Singh and leave it there. But as I stared up at the stucco ceiling, it wasn’t Raya’s face I saw there.
• • •
I ended up writing a few more chapters before bed. I was finally getting the rhythm. I wrote a few flashbacks and “character building” scenes, like the day Daniel fought with his mom and the day his grandpa died. Then I got to the gas station scene.
They pulled into a gas station standing alone at the side of the highway. Its neon sign was still shining brightly in the gloomy midday light. They stopped in front of the pump.
“I’ll fill it,” she said. “You make sure it’s all clear.”
“Split up?” he said weakly.
“Unless you’re too afraid.”
Daniel sighed. “Fine.”
He grabbed the baseball bat and started for the side of the building. He peered into the store through the glass, but it was abandoned. He crept around the side, peeking into the back parking lot.
“Sara, you almost done?” he called nervously.
“I haven’t even started.”
“Oh.”
He spotted the bathroom door and realized he kind of had to go. He glanced at Sara. It would probably be another minute or so before she filled the tank. He had some time. Dan tried the door and found that it was open. Taking a quick look inside, he hurried in.
After washing his hands, he pushed the door open, the bat hanging lazily from his other hand. The creature was waiting.
It towered over him, its black, vacant eyes locked on his. Then it raised one of its terrible, clawed hands and prepared to bring it down on Daniel’s head.
The baseball bat dropped from his hands. He was too afraid to move.
And then a croquet mallet swung past him and connected squarely with the creature’s head. There was a burst of electric blue light and a boom, and the creature went sailing backward into the trees lining the parking lot.
Sara turned to him. “Shall we go?”
They ran to the car and jumped in just as two more creatures started running toward the source of the noise. Sara floored the gas pedal, and they sped out onto the street.
Daniel looked at her, amazed.
She just smiled. “I told you it wasn’t a normal croquet mallet. Now try to hold it, if you can. We have a world to save, and it’s going to be tough if you get killed going to the bathroom before we get there.”
Game day was bright and sunny. Perfect kicking conditions, which meant I had no excuse if I messed it up. My mom woke me up by flinging my curtains open.
“Big game today,” she said.
Then she left me in the sunlight, and I tried to burrow back under my blankets. I tried to think of some viable excuses. Flu? They wouldn’t buy it. I could fake an injury. Maybe a fall off the front porch?
I had three bites of cereal, and by the third bite my Mini-Wheats were soggy and looked like porridge. I tossed the rest and went to the bathroom to stare at the toilet for a while in case I got sick. There was no vomiting, though, and instead I moved to the mirror to reflect that I was looking rather pale. Maybe the flu wouldn’t be so far-fetched after all. My hair was standing on end, but I just threw a ball cap on and started downstairs, where my dad was waiting to drive me. He looked excited.
He gave me a rare pat on the back.
“Ready?”
“Yeah,” I murmured.
He grinned. “Nerves are good.”
I managed a weak smile and followed him to the car. I walked off the porch and totally forgot to fake a fall. I was stuck playing now. My stomach twisted a little more. The drive to the field was the longest ever. My dad was talking about plays and the wind and the sun, but I was just thinking that I should have taken up drama or something. I was definitely going to blow the game today. It was just a matter of time.
The Rocanville Ravens were already warming up on the field. They wore all black, which didn’t help the dread sweeping over me. It looked like we were playing a team of wraiths or something. This was not cool.
Before I knew it, the whistle had blown and I was kicking the ball as hard as I could toward the waiting Ravens. It was a decent connection, and Coach even patted my back on my way off the field.
“That’s it, Leigh,” he said, sounding like he was about to explode with pent-up energy.
It was the end of the first quarter when I attempted my first field goal. We were down three—the defense on both teams was shutting down the offense. I trotted out, trying to ignore Raya and my dad and the hundred other people watching me.
“Hut!”
Max caught the ball and placed it perfectly. Laces out. I kicked.
It sailed left by about five yards and plopped into the end zone. I had missed. I saw Max bite his lip, but then he stood up, and shook my hand, and said, “Next time, baby.”
Coach ignored me on my way back to the bench, and I found a spot and slumped. Bad start. It was a close game. Tom was throwing well, and as usual Max was finding his way to the score sheet. He had two touchdowns by the half, and we were down by seven.
Coach Clemons’s halftime speech was mostly yelling.
“We’re right in it, boys!” he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth and showering poor Brayden Little. “A little more work on D, and we have it. Leigh, stay focused, son! You can do this, Dan!”
I’d already missed another field goal and an extra point, so I was one for four at the moment. Most of the other guys weren’t even looking at me, and I was afraid to check the stands. My family was probably hiding their faces. It was just as bad as I had feared. I was blowing the game.
I missed another field goal in the third quarter. Kevin was making a lot of loud comments from the sidelines about how I should be replaced, but Coach wasn’t having it. We were still only a touchdown behind, so I guess he figured I was still good luck or something. It didn’t feel like it as I watched another ball sail wide. I did sneak a quick look at my dad on my way back to the sidelines, and he gave me the fakest smile ever and clapped. He’d never been much of an actor. Even Emma looked uncomfortable.
I watched in horror as the game stayed close into the fourth quarter. When Max tied the game with ten minutes left, the bench went crazy. I stayed where I was, feeling my insides churn. It was too close. It was going to come down to me. I already knew it. And I was going to miss.
It felt like the game was happening in slow motion. A few minutes later I saw Taj crunch into a running back. Kyle sacked their quarterback. Before I knew it, they were punting, and we were back on our ten.
There were five minutes left, and we were all tied.
I stood up and watched the drive, feeling my hands and knees trembling with every yard. I just needed Max to score again. We would win with the touchdown, and it wouldn’t matter. For a second it looked like I would get my wish. He caught a long fly and was breaking for the end zone when they brought him down. A minute left. They would take a few more chances.
The first down was a loss of two. Then we gained five. Third down.
I was biting my nails as Tom caught the ball and dropped back, scanning the field. They were double teaming Max by now, but he was still too quick. He cut inside, leaving the defenders for just a moment, and Tom stepped into the pass, throwing a perfect spiral.
And then Max dropped it. I don’t think I’d ever seen him drop a pass before. He just let it thud solidly into his chest, and then it bounced inexorably out again through his outstretched fingers.
It was silent on the bench. In the stands, too. I watched in disbelief as Max stared down at the ball and then his fingers. He couldn’t believe it either.
Coach Clemons turned to me, his face white. “You’re up, Leigh.”
It was like a funeral procession as I ran out to the field. We’d been stopped at the thirty-one—in my range but still a hefty kick. I had never been so nervous in my life. I could barely stop my right leg from twitching as I stopped in the huddle. Max was still too stunned to speak. I patted his helmet.
“It’s okay, man,” I said.
He looked at me and nodded. I knew what he was thinking—You’re going to miss and we’re going to lose. I felt like I was about to faint. I stupidly looked at the stands and saw my parents holding hands. Steve and Emma watched nervously.
Raya was with Clara, and they were holding each other around the shoulders. Everyone stared at me.
The team lined up. Max took his position. I stepped back and swallowed down some acid reflux.
It was quiet. Neither set of fans wanted to speak. And then I saw her.
She was watching from behind the field goalpost, leaning against a tree with her leg propped up. My stomach did one last little flop. Even Sara was watching. Everyone I knew was there.
And then I noticed she was holding something. A sign. She turned to face me, smiled, and put the sign in front of her. It read:
FOOTBALL SUCKS
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The sound burst out with a nervous, pent-up energy that split through the silence. She just stood there, holding the sign and leaning against the tree like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. I kept my eyes on her.
“Hut!”
The ball flew back, and Max placed it. I didn’t even think about it. It was just a game.
I swung through and connected as cleanly as I ever had. As the ball left my cleat, I knew the kick was good. The ball sailed through the goalposts, and everything became a mess of noise and jumping and laughter. I was picked up and carried to the sidelines, and Max wrapped me in a hug, almost crying, he was so happy. I remember ribbons and a trophy and my dad telling me he was proud, but most of all I remember Sara, standing against the tree with the sign and watching it all with a smile.
CHAPTER 23
Winning the state championship was a pretty big deal, I guess, since we all went out for lunch and got ice cream, and my dad even drank a beer, which he never does. It felt like the whole rest of the day was a flurry of activity, all the way to the barbecue at Coach’s house that night that went until ten.
When I got home, I was exhausted, but I’d managed to have almost a full day without any Zaps—or obsessions, I think they’re called—and that was pretty nice. I felt as happy as I had in a long time when I got to my room and sat down at my computer. I thought for a second I might even be able to skip the Routine, but I knew the second I thought it that I would never be able to. Right away I felt ill.
It was okay. I would just delay it a little. I opened Facebook and looked at pictures from the game for a while. Some of the guys had posted them, and I was even tagged in one. That was the first time that had ever happened.
I wasn’t even thinking about my cell phone. When I finally decided to go to bed, I checked it out of habit, and froze. There were five missed calls. All from Sara’s cell phone. And all of them were from an hour or two before. Frowning, I called the number back.
Sara’s mom answered immediately. She sounded panicked.
“Is this Daniel?”
“Yeah.”
“Is Sara with you?”
“No,” I said. “Why?”
I heard her mom stifle a sob. “She’s gone. I haven’t seen her all day. Her phone was here. She’s gone.”
I was too stunned to say anything for a moment. Then I asked, “When was the last time you saw her?”
“After she got home from your game. We . . . got into a fight. I mean, as much as we can fight when she barely talks to me. She wanted to leave. She wanted to go to the library, and I wanted to drive her, but she wouldn’t let me. But it’s too far to walk. John gave her a ride. He said he dropped her off. But the library didn’t see her. They know her. She was never there.”
I felt my insides go cold. “John drove her?”
“Yeah. He’s out looking for her now. I called the police.”
I looked at the window. “I’m going to go look for her myself.”
I didn’t wait to hear what she said. I shoved the phone into my pocket and hurried downstairs.
• • •
I searched all through the night. My mom went with me and drove me around for a while, but there was nothing. It was dark, and we found nothing but shadows. We drove in silence.
It was almost two when my mom drove me home.
“I’m sorry, Dan,” she said. “There’s nothing we can do tonight. The police are looking.”
“I think it was her mother’s boyfriend,” I said.
She looked at me. “What?”
“We’ve been investigating him. Sara thinks he killed her dad. She might have confronted him. If she did, he might have done something to her.” It was all rushing out now. “She could be in danger.”
My mom frowned. “Why would you even think that? Do you have any proof?”
“We have our reasons.”
She looked at me. “I’ll call the police station. They’re going to want to talk with you.”
I nodded. “Call.”
They were at the house ten minutes later. Two of them—a young man with a goatee and big arms and an older, graying sergeant with a big gut and unfriendly eyes. They sat across from me in the kitchen.
I was careful to hide some of the details—namely the whole breaking-and-entering part. But I told them about the recorded message and the apology John gave her and the fake note that was written by John.
They looked at each other a few times, and my mom and dad watched from the kitchen.
“We can go talk to John,” the older one, Sergeant Bent, said gruffly. “But we can’t arrest anyone based on notes and apologies. I know John. Not a bad guy. We’ll go talk to him, though.”
The younger officer turned to me. “Her mom said the girl doesn’t talk to anyone but you. Why?”
I paused. “I don’t know. I guess she knew I would listen.”
They glanced at each other again and went to talk to my parents in hushed voices. They didn’t believe me. That was obvious. And I didn’t care, but I cared about Sara.
“Who’s looking for Sara?” I asked loudly.
Sergeant Bent turned to me. “We have three officers out now. They’ll find her, kid. She’s fine.”
Then they left, and my parents came back and told me to go to bed. They didn’t believe me either.
My mom kissed me on the forehead and whispered, “She’ll be fine. You’ll see her in the morning.”
Then she left with my dad, and I was alone in my room again. I paced for a while. I wanted to do the Routine to feel better, but I wasn’t ready to go to bed. All I could think about was Sara. What if he had done something to her? I sat down and stood up and wondered what to do.
How could I sleep when she was out there?
I thought back over the last few weeks. The day in the hallway. The touch game. The sign. The trips to John’s. The night in the bushes. The walk through the field, when she told me she wanted to be alone.
I was out the door before my parents had even gone to bed.
• • •
“Sara?”
I was walking through the blackness, the grass up to my waist. It was like wading through the water at night, the only light the endless stars overhead and the streetlights behind me. It was cold, and I felt it slithering under my sweater and jeans and clinging to my skin like a wet towel. I shivered.
“Sara!”
“I’m here,” a faint voice replied, barely carrying even in the silence.
I found her a minute later. She was lying flat on her back, sunken right down in the grass. She was just staring up at the sky, not even moving when I appeared over her.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey.”
I crouched down next to her, frowning. “Everyone is looking for you.”
She kept her eyes on the stars. “I guess that makes sense.”
“How long have you been here?”
She paused. “I don’t know. I don’t have my phone. Since lunch, I guess.”
I stared at her for a moment, and then lay down in the grass. It was cold and damp and kind of weird to submerge myself in the darkness, but sometimes you do strange things for other people.
I guess that’s friendship.
“How is lying in the middle of a field at nighttime?” she asked.
“Different.”
The stars were beautiful, just visible through the wisps of blackness extending all around my vision like at the edges of a black hole.
She laughed. “Yeah. I’m sorry you looked for me. I should have gone home.”
“Why didn’t you? What happened today?”
“I fought with my mom. She told me she was trying her best to take care of me by herself. I told her that it was her fault she was by herself. That I missed Dad. That I wished I had gone with him instead.”
