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  “Ha. Ha.” I scowled up at him.

  “So was she young, old? Tall, short?” Roger asked, sounding a little more interested.

  This girl was so way not his type. I mean, she was blonde, so at least she had that going for her, but she didn’t look like a Victoria’s Secret model, so she wouldn’t have held his attention for long. I mean, she could have been pretty if she tried harder, but she was still a little too plain for Roger’s taste.

  The waitress came, placing our pancakes and OJ in front of us.

  “She looked to be about our age, long blonde hair, not too tall, about my height.” I guessed, not knowing how to describe the girl in much more detail. I grabbed the syrup, drowning my pancakes in it, and then passed the bottle across the table to Roger.

  “Come on, Meredith, give me details,” he pressed, acting impatient with my bland description.

  “Honestly, she looked pretty normal except for her clothing,” I sighed, annoyed that that was all he cared about.

  “Her clothing? That’s boring,” he said as if he was done with the conversation. He took a large bite of his pancakes.

  “I don’t know why you would be interested in what she looks like anyway. Aren’t you going to have your hands full wooing all the girls in Rockport?” He was going to be spending most of the summer there with his dad.

  “You’re right, but I still have a few days left here to woo,” he said, raising his eyebrows. He shoved another large bite into his mouth.

  “Ugh, you are such a pig; I don’t know why I talk to you,” I scoffed, shaking my head. I took a bite and quickly realized I’d put on way too much syrup this time.

  “Because I’m the only friend you have.”

  “Hey, I have Rebecca, too,” I argued defensively.

  “Sure, I’ll give you that, but I’m your only real friend,” he said, clarifying his previous statement.

  That was true. Roger was my one and only true friend. Don’t get me wrong, Rebecca was a great friend, but she was only someone I would hang out with on occasion. If I ever needed girl talk or an excuse to get out of the house every once in a while, she was the one I would call. It sounds selfish, but it’s the truth. Roger was the only one who knew me inside and out, backwards, forwards, and any other direction possible.

  There was a long pause between us, and my thoughts went back to the girl in the cemetery. I just couldn’t get those startling green eyes out of my head. I sensed Roger staring at me, and I looked toward him, watching as he rubbed his chin with his right hand like he was in deep thought.

  “Maybe she’s just visiting a relative for the summer … or maybe she was kidnapped and her captors are hiding her out in one of the old haunted estates.” He barely got out the last few words while keeping a straight face.

  “You should not be making fun, Roger. She could have been in some sort of trouble or recently lost someone she really cared about,” I snapped back, annoyed that he would make such light of the situation.

  “You’re right,” he said, trying his hardest to wipe the smirk off his face and failing miserably at it. “Forgive me. I was just trying to make you smile. You seem like you are really beating yourself up about it.”

  “I’m just worried about her, is all.” I couldn’t explain it to myself so there was no way to try and explain to Roger the strong connection I felt to the stranger: the way I felt paralyzed with fear the moment her eyes met mine, the unmistakable connection I had with her.

  “Well, don’t be too hard on yourself; you said she ran away from you, right? What more could you have done?” he said, trying to reassure me.

  “Yeah, I guess so. I just hope she’s okay,” I said, staring out the window.

  After eating about half my plate, I pushed it toward the end of the table and saw that Roger had finished each and every last bite.

  “You ready to go?” Roger asked me with his I’m-about-to-puke-from-eating-too-much look on his face.

  “Sure, let’s go. I don’t want you to miss out on any more of your beauty sleep.” I grabbed my jacket and scooted out of the booth.

  “What time should I pick you up tomorrow?” Roger asked as he held the door open for me.

  “Pick me up? For what?”

  “Uh, only the biggest party ever! Probably the best party or your life.” He acted bothered at the fact that I would forget such an important event.

  Oh, yeah, I remember. The Graduating Senior’s Only party. The one party that most kids at our school started to look forward to on their first day of freshman year.

  “Ugh, right. How could I forget?” I moaned. “No one will miss me if I don’t show.”

  “Sure, they will. I will miss you.” He glanced at me with a sincere expression on his face. “Rebecca is going to be there, too.” His voice was full of persuasion.

  I turned to glare at him, not knowing if this was just a lie so I would agree to go or if he was actually telling the truth. “How do you know she’s going? She did not say anything to me about it.”

  He smirked before responding, and I knew he was up to something. “I saw Rebecca at the store last night, and she said that she was debating not going to the party. So I mentioned that you were going, and she was sold,” he said, looking very satisfied with himself.

  “She is so gullible,” I said, shaking my head. “You know that you have this power over her, right? She has had a crush on you since first grade.”

  “Why do you have to be so difficult?” he said, ignoring my previous comment. “It’s just a party; it’s supposed to be fun. You remember fun, right?”

  And more than anything, I wished I had the answer. I’m really not this horrible, depressed, introverted person. Well, I guess that depends on who you ask. But really, there’s just something about loud music and a hundred people who I don’t particularly have anything in common with that makes we want to puke. Roger is an exception. He is and has always been my best friend. He just also happens to be the most popular guy in school, and for some reason he loves me. Not love loves me—more like a brother would love a sister.

  “I just don’t like parties like that. I don’t fit in with those people. It will probably just be a bore fest, anyway.”

  “Mer, you don’t fit in with anyone, but that’s why I love you. Besides it’s going to be the last time you see any of these people for a long time—myself included,” he said, trying his hardest to convince me. And as much as I hated to admit it, he had a point. It was probably one of the last times I would have to hang out with him before I left. And not just Roger; Rebecca would be gone soon, too. She was spending the next month riding around in an RV with her family before heading off to Boston University.

  “Okay.” I sighed, giving in. “I will go to the party, but no promises on how long I will stay.”

  “Awesome.” He grinned smugly, happy with himself that he had just won. “Now that you have already agreed to go, I must tell you that it’s a luau-type party, so dress appropriately … maybe a cute beach dress or something.” He slowly backed away from me with defensive hands up, ready to protect himself.

  “What! You are going to pay for this,” I warned.

  “Come on, at least try and have a good time and participate. Please?” He frowned.

  “Yeah, can’t wait,” I said sarcastically as I raised my hands up in the air pretending to celebrate.

  “What am I going to do without your optimistic, cheerful personality all summer? My world is going to be so dark.” He grinned.

  “You are going to miss me, and you know it.”

  His smile grew as he pulled me in for one of his infamous bear hugs.

  “Okay, too tight … so full … I am about to—”

  He let go before I could finish, anticipating what I was about to say.

  “Okay, well, go home and take a nap. You need your beauty sleep more than I do,” he said as he began to walk backwards toward his car.

  “You are such a jerk,” I snapped and then turned around on my heels,
waving as I walked off.

  “See you tomorrow night. Be ready to party!” he screamed from a distance, and I looked back to see him crouch down into his shiny, blue ‘69 Mustang.

  I never understood why he wanted that car. It must have been horribly uncomfortable for his six-foot-two build. It did make me smile though as I heard the purr of the engine start and grow even louder as he drove away.

  Ugh, just thinking of the word party made my stomach turn and my skin crawl. As much as it pained me, I couldn’t hate Roger for wanting to try and make me happy. He was the only person who actually got me. The weird, introverted, nonconformist loner. He still loved and accepted me all the same. We probably wouldn’t be as close as we are if he had not lost his father when he was younger. His dad didn’t pass away, like my family; his dad walked out on them, moved to Rockport, and got a new girlfriend when Roger was just seven. I guess we became close because we had the whole parent-abandonment thing in common, even though they were under very different circumstances.

  Growing up, I had always envied Roger. He’s what I called a dreamer and achiever. He knew what sport he wanted to play in high school, so we practiced all summer before freshman year so he would make varsity. He knew the exact color, make, and model of the car he wanted when he turned sixteen, so he worked double time to make sure he had enough money to buy it. Now he had been accepted to Harvard and would without doubt graduate with honors and continue on to law school. He knew who he was and what he wanted to do with his life. I, on the other hand, could not even tell you what was on my agenda for tomorrow. Well, other than this party I had just agreed to. It was effortless for him to be normal, to want the typical life and be content. It was not as easy for me. For some reason, I felt like there was more out there for me, and if nothing else, I had to at least try and find it.

  As I approached the corner of Main and Sycamore, I pressed the crosswalk button and waited. After a few seconds, I looked right and left and saw the street was deserted. Just as I was about to step off the curb, something caught my eye. Or should I say, someone. There on the opposite corner a guy was standing facing me. It was weird, because I could feel the stare that he held on me. My eyes drifted toward him, and when our eyes met, his stare did not waver in the least. A shiver ran down my spine when I realized that I did not recognize him either. He was tall, maybe six feet or so and had blonde hair. His athletic build reminded me of most of our football players at school. I couldn’t make out much more detail because of the distance separating us. Our eyes were locked together for a few seconds, only interrupted by the beeping of the crosswalk, letting me know it was my turn to cross. I shook my head as if to wake myself up from a dream, and without thinking twice about it, I stepped off the curb and into the street. And that’s when I heard it—the horrible sound of tires screeching, trying their hardest to stop. But by the time I looked to my right, it was too late. I couldn’t have moved out of the path of the car even if my frozen legs could’ve moved—there was just no time. The only thing I could do was shut my eyes tight, hope it would be quick, and pray the pain would be slight. Then everything went totally silent, so silent that I could hear my ears ringing and my heart pounding loud against my chest.

  About a second later, a second past when I thought I would be road kill, I slightly opened my right eye and gasped at what I saw. The car was still in front of me, but it was moving in very slow motion. I mean, like molasses coming out of a bottle slow. Everything around me felt weird, different. I looked around, wondering if maybe the car had already hit me and this was just a cruel part of the afterlife or something, making me watch in slow motion how I died.

  When I turned and looked to my left, I saw the same guy across the street, still staring right at me. The moment our eyes locked on each other, everything went back to normal. Well somewhat. I looked back in front of me just in time to see the car that I had thought was about to come barreling into me come to a startling halt just inches away from my body. Then I heard someone shouting.

  “Meredith! Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. The light turned from green to red in an instant. There was no yellow light or anything. Are you okay?” Mr. Griffin, my old history teacher, hung his head out of his car. He was yelling at me, his voice shaking with each word.

  I must have been in shock because I couldn’t speak.

  “Meredith! Are you hurt?” Mr. Griffin was beside me now. “Do you want me to call an ambulance or something?”

  That woke me up out of the daze I was in. “Um—no. That won’t be necessary,” I said, noticing my voice held the same trembling tone as his.

  “Are you sure you’re okay? I’m really sorry. I-I swear the light was green and then it just turned red. I tried to stop, but—”

  “Fine. I’m fine,” I interrupted him. I continued my walk across the street, searching desperately for the guy that had been watching me. Maybe he could help explain what the hell just happened back there, or at least confirm that I wasn’t going nuts. But he was nowhere to be found. Something very weird had just happened. The car had been going too fast. It had been going to hit me before something or someone stopped it. It was as if time had stopped or slowed down somehow. I walked home in a daze, trying to convince myself that I was just overreacting. What I thought I saw back there just couldn’t have happened. It just wasn’t possible. When I arrived home, I walked right into the barrage of questions I had so masterfully avoided that morning.

  Chapter Three

  “Meredith, you had me worried sick. Where did you sneak off to this morning?” Aunt Rose asked impatiently, trying to maintain a serious tone as she held her hands on her hips.

  Dropping my backpack and purse at the foot of the stairs, I tried to snap myself out of the daze I was still in. The last thing I wanted was to make Aunt Rose worry about me more than she already did. When I looked at her face, I had to press my lips together, trying to make an effort to not smile. I knew how hard it was for her to play the strict guardian role. She was more like an older sister to me than anything.

  But to please her, I decided to play along and act like the disobedient child taking her punishment. “Sorry, I should have told you that I was headed out.” I exhaled, hanging my head low. “I went to the cemetery.” Even though it was a low blow, I knew mentioning it would quiet her. I was just not in the mood for talking or playing that part for very long.

  “Oh—well, I just wish you would have told me. I would have gone with you. All you had to do was ask,” she said, immediately changing her stance and attitude.

  I smiled timidly. “Don’t worry about it. I already got the lecture from Roger on going there by myself. But like I told him: I just wanted some time alone with them.”

  When she smiled back at me, I knew that was the end of that conversation. Then guilt washed over me, and I started to feel bad for throwing out the cemetery card so early on. It was tough looking at her face, seeing her sympathetic eyes staring back at me. Maybe I should’ve played the disobedient child part a little longer.

  Aunt Rose was my guardian, my adult supervision, my answer whenever I was asked who I lived with, but she was not my real aunt. She was actually my mom’s best friend; they had grown up together in Marblehead. Since I had had no other family around when my parents passed away, she was the lucky one that got stuck with me. The only name I ever called her growing up was Aunt Rose. She had given up everything for me and never thought twice about it. She had left her apartment and nursing job in Boston and moved into my house, not wanting me to have any more change than I had had already.

  “To change the subject, how about we talk about your plans for this summer? You know, just so I can get an idea of your schedule and stuff.” She bit her lip, knowing that was a bit of a touchy subject between us.

  “Okay, but I already told you most of it. Get a job, save up some money, and then travel a bit when the summer ends. What else do you need to know?” I questioned, hoping she didn’t want specifics because I had none.

 
“Oh, nothing, that’s perfect. I just wanted to make sure those plans had not changed. You are so wishy-washy lately.” I was not wishy-washy, but before I could defend myself, she began again. “Which brings me to tell you that I have the perfect job for you.” Her eyes lit up in excitement.

  “Oh, no, please not the hospital. You know I can’t stand sick people, blood, or the smell of that place,” I complained. My throat went dry with fear and I made my way into the kitchen for a glass of water.

  She laughed, following me persistently. “Relax, it’s not the hospital. Although I think that would be nice, you know, so we could spend some extra time together. But I wouldn’t do that to you.”

  Aunt Rose was a nurse at our small, local hospital. Even though the town rarely ever saw any action, there were the occasional deep cuts with a kitchen knife, kids jumping on their bed, falling off, and busting their heads open, and lots of gross sick people.

  I listened to her as I drank some water, quenching the dryness in my throat.

  “Well.” She hesitated for a moment. “I kinda ran into Ms. Donaldson today, and she asked about you. I mentioned that you were going to be here this summer, and she said that there was an opening for an assistant.”

  “Kinda ran into Ms. Donaldson? She asked about me?” I questioned suspiciously. Ms. Donaldson was our town librarian; she must have been close to eighty years old. I had a hard time believing she even remembered her own name.

  “She was just trying to make conversation. I thought it was nice. Besides, it sounds like the perfect job for you,” she insisted.

  I can’t lie; it was a little weird that Ms. Donaldson had asked about me. It was weird because I don’t think she even knew who I was. She had never acknowledged me by name the few times I had gone to the library. And truth be told, I tried to avoid that place whenever I could. During school, I did most of my research projects online just so I would not have to go down there. The place gave me the creeps. But as the idea resonated, it didn’t sound half bad. It would probably be quiet since it was summer and school was out. I had to admit, it sounded a lot better than working as a waitress or a grocery store clerk.