Prey Read online

  “You tried his cell?”

  “He didn't answer.”

  “I'll tell him you called.”

  We hang up and I slide into a blue funk. Where is he? Why has he blown off me and Cory? Even though he'll never see me as anything more than a gal-pal, I see him as the world's most perfect male specimen. It's the dark hair and blue eyes and thousand-watt smile. It's his wit and charm and sense of humor. It's him. Totally him that lights my fire.

  I call Jessica. “Want to hit a movie this afternoon?”

  “Hey, you sound down. What's the prob?”

  The girl must have radar. “Just stuck at the library for Miss Ethel's Story Hour. The woman's dressed up like Mother Goose. Gag me.”

  “Isn't Ryan with you?”

  “Not today.”

  “And that explains why Honey's unhappy. Did he bail?”

  No use protesting the obvious with Jess. “He didn't come. He didn't call.”

  “You've got to get over him, girlfriend.”

  “Why? Maybe I'm addicted to pain and frustration.”

  “Then you should be medicated.”

  That makes me laugh. “Can we go to a movie or not?”

  “We can go. Call me when you get home from story hour.”

  I feel better after talking to Jess, and punch off. I hear loud voices coming from the reading room and I run toward them. Inside, Cory is having a tantrum, kicking and screaming on the floor. I rush over and lift him, get behind him and lock my arms and legs around him. He struggles, but he can't move. I know he hates being pinned in place, but I don't have a choice. He can't be reasoned with when he gets this way. “Call our mother,” I say to a librarian.

  Kids have scattered like ants and are in little huddles, watching Cory wide-eyed. I get angry at Ryan all over again. He should have been here to help. He said he would be, but he isn't. So where is he?

  Lori

  I'm alone now. All my furniture is in place and the beautiful boy is gone. He lingered, dragging out the time it took him to do the job. I'm pleased about that. Everything about him pleases me. He wanted so much to impress me, to make me see him as strong and manly. And I do.

  The pure sweetness of him makes me feel warm inside. The adoring glances he threw my way all afternoon. Not like the lecherous stares of grown men. I hate the way they look at me, as if they want to tear my clothes off. The jerks. Not like the young ones, who long to touch but don't.

  I look at my hand, at the place where our fingers touched and sparks flew. I smile. How tender and dear that moment. The heart-pounding part came when I took him into my bedroom. He looked scared, then curious, as he crossed the threshold.

  I said, “I'm thinking the bed should go on this wall. That way when I wake up in the morning, I can look straight out that window at the tops of the trees and the sky behind them. Good idea?”

  “Y-yes. Good plan.”

  His voice is hesitant, as if a woman has never asked his opinion on anything. Together we struggle with the queen-size mattress, standing it on end to better move the bedframe. When the frame is in place, we tug the mattress onto it. For a moment, I think about letting him help me make the bed, but decide it's too soon. We move the dresser next, then my jewelry box, a large piece of furniture made of dark wood.

  “I really hate to put my computer desk in here,” I say. “Bedrooms shouldn't be used for work, but I really don't know where else to put my computer— you know, the lesson planning and bill paying.”

  He puckers his brow and I can tell he's really thinking through my dilemma. “Maybe you can figure a way to hide it. Like a screen or something.”

  “Why, Ryan, that's brilliant! How clever of you.”

  My words make him blush. I love seeing his skin turn pink and his eyes shine. The boy is starved for approval. I wonder about his parents, his mother especially. In time I'll get him to tell me about his family. Not today.

  I look around the room. “I guess that's about it. I shouldn't keep you any longer.”

  “It's no problem.”

  “Oh, go have fun. It's Saturday.” I smile, walk out my bedroom door. He has no choice except to follow.

  In the living room, I pick up my purse. “Let me pay you.”

  “That's all right. You don't need—”

  “Of course I do. I promised.” I extract two twen ties from my wallet and hand them over.

  “That's too much.”

  “Well, don't forget, you have to pay the moving men.”

  He looks blank; then a smile spreads across his face. “I'll take them to the mall, buy them a meal.”

  We laugh at his joke.

  “Thank you, Ryan. You're a lifesaver.”

  His eyes linger on mine and I sense his willingness to do anything I ask. My breath quickens. The timing's wrong. I open the door. “See you Monday.”

  “Sure, Ms. Settles.” He slides back into being my student.

  “And one more thing.” He pauses and I give him a most important instruction. He nods and agrees.

  I close the door behind him, hoping he'll keep his word.

  Ryan

  My friends are pissed at me. Honey and Joel both.

  I feel bad about missing the library gig with Honey and Cory, especially when I hear that Cory went postal over something that only his brain can grasp. That's the thing about autism: no one can get inside Cory's head and see the world through his eyes, so we never know what sets him off. It just happens, so the main goal is to keep him from hurting himself until his brain wiring trips him back into our universe. I apologize all over myself and Honey says she understands and that I don't have to show up for Cory outings, but because I said I would, she was counting on me. I feel her disappointment vibes like arrows.

  I can't tell her what I was really doing—moving furniture at Lori's place—even though Honey leaves me openings as wide as the freeway to spill my secrets into. The story about a science project is too lame to even repeat, so I tell her nothing, cling to loyalty toward Lori.

  The last thing Lori said to me was “Ryan, I think it best if we kept this little adventure to ourselves. Will you do that, please?”

  I had just spent an hour moving furniture around her bedroom and the rough feel of the wood was still on my hands, and the scent of her perfume was still in my nose. I told her, “You don't have to worry about that,” although now every cell in my body wants to shout it out to Joel. To anyone who'll listen.

  Joel's mad at me too, but for different reasons than not helping Honey on Saturday. Joel's mad because on Thursday, I tell him I won't be a part of the freshman male idiot squad at Friday night's football game.

  “But we planned doing this all summer,” he says. “At the pool. We talked about it with Ray and Steve. They're counting on us.”

  We're in my garage and I'm doing some free weights to bulk up my chest and arms. “Plans change.”

  “You're not going to the game?”

  “No, I'm going. I'm just not stripping to my waist, painting myself half orange and half blue and standing in the bleachers cheering for our lousy team. Do you know how cold it's supposed to get by tomorrow night?” I drop the barbells with a thud onto the mat in the corner where I've set up my gym.

  “So what? Ten guys are doing it,” Joel says, as if the herd mentality will make me change my mind.

  “Then have fun. And don't let your tits freeze.”

  “Every freshman class does it at the final home game of the year. It's a tradition.”

  “So is hari-kari, but I'm not going there.”

  Joel's mad. “What's gotten into you? You're not acting like yourself.”

  “Why? Because I don't want to get half naked and act like an ass? Well, I don't.”

  Joel is quiet for a minute. He blurts out, “It's a girl, isn't it? You're trying to impress some girl and don't want her to see you doing this.”

  I turn so that he can't see my face and how close to the mark he's come. I know Lori goes to the games, and he's right.
I don't want her to see me as I am— fifteen, ages younger than her. “Yeah, I'm a real babe magnet,” I say to Joel. “Don't you see them line up at my locker every morning?”

  He stares.

  I say, “Look, is this going to kill our friendship?”

  He shrugs. “Course not. I just thought we'd do this together because we talked about it so much. We thought it would be fun.”

  “You don't have to do this either, you know.”

  “No. I said I would. I won't let the guys down.”

  Every word drips with implication about my values as far as friendship is concerned. “Then see you tomorrow night—if it won't embarrass you to speak.”

  Joel walks to his car, peels out of my driveway. I watch him go without regrets. He needs to chill. And grow up.

  Lori—Ms. Settles in the classroom—treats me … well, I'm not sure. Some days I think she looks right through me. Other times, her eyes connect with mine and I go hot all over. I think about going to her room after school. I think about asking, “So how's the new furniture arrangement working for you?” Sometimes during class I goof off, say a few things that make the kids in the room laugh. She often smiles too, but quickly puts on her teacher face and tells me to settle down.

  Right before Halloween, she makes an announcement to the whole class. “Look, if any of you would like something to do this Saturday, the Fulton firefighters are sponsoring a carnival and pumpkin sale at Centennial Park. One of the firemen lives in my complex and his wife asked me if I knew of any teens who might be interested in volunteering to help. I said I'd ask my classes.” Hands shoot up. Not mine. Ms. Settles smiles. “If you can come, show up Saturday morning at eight in the park. I really appreciate your willingness to help. And it's all right if you can't come. It's just a nice thing to do.”

  I swear she looks right at me when she says this. If I can't come. Wild horses couldn't keep me away.

  Joel drives me and Honey and Jessica to the park. I think Joel has a thing for Jess, but I don't ride him because he's still honked at me for bailing on the football game/body painting fiasco. I don't care. I kept my dignity.

  At the park we join up with an assembly of kids from Ms. Settles' world history classes. I'm surprised at how many showed up. “Butt kissers,” Honey whispers.

  “So why did you come? You're not even in any of her classes.”

  Honey blushes. “Duh … to get out of cleaning the house.”

  I grin. “And I thought it was to do a good deed.”

  “That too.”

  A fireman comes over and gives a spiel about what's going on, offers us choices of where we can work for the day. I notice that he can't keep his eyes off Lori. Why should he? She's dressed in jeans, black boots and a black turtleneck with a wow factor of ten plus.

  I choose to help kids at a game where they catch magnetic fish in a dry wading pool for prizes. Honey tags along. After about fifteen minutes, I've taken a ton of fish off the magnets and Honey's passed out a ton of cheap prizes. I say, “We should have brought Cory. He'd love this.”

  “Mom wanted me to bring him, but I didn't want to spend my time watching him. What if he went off like he did at the library?”

  She's never going to let me forget how I let her down. We work for an hour and I decide to go grab us some hot chocolate at the concession tent. I'm in line when a voice from behind me asks, “Having fun, Ryan?”

  I turn to see Lori. The smoothness of her voice and the way she says my name make my heart trip. “Sure.”

  “I didn't think you'd come,” she says.

  I shrug. “Why not? I had nothing else going today.”

  She smiles. “I appreciate so many of my students giving up their Saturday to help others. It's kind of you.”

  “I guess I'm in the habit of giving up my Saturdays for you, Ms. Settles.”

  She arches one perfect eyebrow. “Not a burden, I hope.”

  I should have kept my mouth shut. The last thing I want to do is offend her, but sharing cappuccino in her kitchen, moving her possessions, was good stuff for me. I want her to think of me not as just some kid in her class. “I'd do it again,” I say. “Anytime.”

  She hugs her arms to her body, gives me her teacher smile—an adult passing time with a student. “So the girl who came with you today—is she your girlfriend?”

  “Honey? No way. We've been friends since grade school. I don't have a girlfriend.”

  She looks as if she doesn't believe me. “How can that be? I would have thought you had several.”

  “I'm holding out for the right one to come along.”

  Now she laughs. “You're a romantic boy. When I went to high school, with guys it was ‘If you're not with the girl you love, then love the girl you're with.’ ”

  I don't like her calling me a boy. I don't like thinking about how many years separate us. “Well, that's not me,” I say.

  Her eyes go soft. “Good for you. Hold out.”

  Somebody says, “Could you close the gap there, buddy?”

  I start, look around and see that I'm holding up the concession line. I push forward and Lori comes with me. “I'll be scheduling parent-teacher visits in a week. I'm looking forward to meeting your family.” She's all teacher again. “They are planning on coming, aren't they?”

  “My dad will show,” I say.

  “Not your mother?”

  “No.” I turn, leaving her to wonder, to be curious the way I'm curious why she comes on to me one minute and retreats the next. I've never known a teacher like her. A teacher who runs hot and cold. Maybe it's just a girl thing.

  Honey

  I get tired of waiting for Ryan to show with my hot chocolate. He's been gone forever and the sun's disappeared behind clouds and the temperature's dropping. I pass out a few more prizes and ask some girl to take my place. “Potty break,” I tell her.

  I trot to the concession tent and duck inside. Since my heart has automatic radar for him, it takes my eyes about fifteen seconds to locate him in the crowd. He's standing off to one side holding two paper cups and talking to Ms. Settles. It bothers me.

  “What's eating you?”

  It's Jess, who's come up beside me. “Nothing.”

  “That's not what your face is saying.”

  I look at Jess. “Ryan went to get us hot chocolate and got waylaid by Stiletto Settles.”

  We look across the tent together.

  “They're just talking,” Jess says. “Besides, she's okay. I like her.”

  “Oh, so now you're her defense attorney? A few weeks ago, you were calling her names.”

  “Things change. She's all right. Really.”

  “Oh, please!”

  “Whoa! Why are you getting so worked up?”

  I ignore her, march to the back of the concession line. She follows. “I'm thirsty. And cold. He was supposed to be right back.”

  Jess takes my arm. “Slow down, Honey. You're acting jealous. She's a teacher, girl, and tons older than him.”

  I know she's right, but I can't get my head around it. They were standing too close. Ms. Settles had her hand on Ryan's arm. They looked connected.

  Jess asks, “Did you come today to spy on him? Or because you wanted to help? You don't even have world history with Settles.”

  “I—I wanted to be around Ryan,” I confess. “And to help out, too. Helping the kids have fun is good.”

  “Then get your drink and let's go help. This is Lori's project, you know.”

  Great. So now Stiletto Settles has morphed into Lori in Jess's mind. I know when I'm outnumbered, so I bite my tongue and order my hot chocolate.

  I've been working the fish pond a while and sipping my hot chocolate when Ryan returns. “Here's your drink,” he says.

  “Too late,” I say, and waggle my cup at him. “I gave up on you and bought my own.”

  “Sorry,” he says. “I got sidetracked.”

  “Really,” I say, staring hard at him, but he just shrugs and sets down the paper cup
he's been holding.

  “In case you want another one.”

  I pick it up. “It's cold.”

  “I said I was sorry.” He walks away to help two kids take fish off their magnets.

  I remove the lid from the cold cup and pour the murky brown mixture on the ground, watching it soak into the grass without leaving a trace.

  Ryan

  “Seems like you're doing all right at school,” Dad says.

  We're driving home from McAllister's open house and our annual appearance in my classrooms for the meeting of parents and teachers. A stupid custom, especially in high school. I mean, who cares? In elementary school, parents are bumping into each other, the rooms are so crowded. By middle school, the crowds of “caring” parents have thinned, and by high school, most kids beg their families to stay away. Only nerds, geeks and superachievers have their parents hanging around. My dad's always gone, so going to these meetings is the dues he pays for all the travel that keeps him away from home. I'd rather he skipped it.

  He looks over at me. “Your history teacher— what's her name?”

  “Ms. Settles.” My heart goes bump.

  “She's a real looker. I'm telling you, teachers in my day were never that pretty.”

  “She's all right.”

  “Just all right? Then I'd like to see your idea of a pretty woman.” He gives a short laugh.

  He's making me mad. I don't like him talking about Lori this way. I don't like him thinking she's pretty.

  “She had some nice things to say about you,” Dad says.

  “I like history more than I thought I would.”

  “Right.” His voice drips with innuendo. “Anyway, I like her.”

  “She's old,” I blurt out.

  “Old? She's probably in her thirties. That's not old, son. Believe me.”

  “You want to date her?” I snap.

  “Of course not. What's gotten into you, anyway?”

  “Nothing.” I slump down in the car, feeling like a pouting ten-year-old.