The operator sighs. “Nothing for Staten Island either.”
I bite my lip. I’m annoying her, but I have to know. “Union City, New Jersey?”
Two more beats. “No.”
Hope dwindles. “Okay. Thank y—”
Click.
The line continues to shorten every few minutes. While I wait, I comb the popular social media sites for Makai Archer. It’s a pretty unusual name, and the search quickly turns up nothing. Next, I Google and then Bing him. Zilch. Only junk spams the palm-sized screen.
I give up. The arched window overlooking the street is as tall as it is wide. Down below a guy opens a cab door for a girl with blonde hair more blinding than the sun. I’d recognize that mane anywhere. Quinn. She throws her head back, and I can almost hear the peal of her laughter over the music.
I put all thoughts of Makai Archer and peeing aside, leave the line, and dart for the exit. Again I have to worm through the overcrowded party. I call Quinn. Pick up, pick up, pick up. It rings once, goes straight to voice mail. Why am I not surprised? It’s not like this is the first time she’s done this to me.
“Everything okay?” Ky is lazing against the wall outside the door.
“Not really.” I take the steps two at a time to the garage. When I’m at the curb, Quinn is long gone. Now what?
Ky appears beside me. “Was that your friend? The blonde?”
She’s not my friend. “Yes.”
He clasps his hands on top of his head, looks up and down the street. “Oh, man, I would’ve stopped her if I’d known. Sorry.”
“Call Joshua.” Mom’s voice inside my head chirps loud and clear.
No. I don’t need him to rescue me.
“It’s not your fault,” I say to Ky. “It’s just . . . she was my ride.” I remove my sweatshirt from my waist. Shrug into it. Zip it to my chest. At least now I can wear what I want.
“Listen, I’m parked down the street. I could give you a lift.”
I gape at him. “You have a car?”
Ky lowers his arms and shrugs. “Give me a break. I just moved here.”
A foreigner. That explains it. “It’s fine. I’ll wait. Maybe she’ll come back.” Not likely.
“Nonsense. I’ll drive you. It’s really not a big deal. I was looking for an excuse to escape anyway.”
“Call Joshua now.”
I’ve got this. I have to learn to do things on my own.
“My car is this way.” He gestures to the end of the block, starts walking.
He seems nice enough. What’s the harm?
“Stop, Eliyana.”
Mom—
“This is a bad idea.”
I’m fine. “Lead the way,” I say.
After about half a block I can’t stand the quiet any longer. “So where’d you move from?”
Ky laughs. It catches oddly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t been there in a long time.” He runs a hand through his blond waves. “I think you were just a baby when you left.”
“Run. Now.”
I stop. Something isn’t right. My senses enhance. Everything, from the smell of asphalt to the water swishing in the sewer below, intensifies. Except my vision. That starts to blur.
Ky stops too.
I slide my right foot backward.
He turns. “This is me.” The blinking red stoplight ahead flashes in warning.
I slide my other foot back an inch. My cold hands already nestle in my sweatshirt pocket. I clutch my phone, a lifeline. “I think I might wait for Quinn after all. I’d hate for you to go out of your way.”
Ky looks down and shakes his head. A devilish grin spreads across his zit-flecked face. “It’s not out of my way, Eliyana. In fact, you are the only reason I’m here tonight.”
The sound of my name on his lips—the name I didn’t give him—finally kicks my butt into gear. What was I thinking? I free my phone, press hard on the Home button, and blurt the first two words I can form. “Call Joshua.”
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” He moves toward me. His hands clench and unclench.
One ring. Two. My whole body falls asleep, from shoulder to toe. What’s happening?
“El?” Joshua’s voice jets over the line on the third ring.
I try to speak through my quavering. “I need you to come get me.” I attempt to move back again, but my feet remain glued in place.
“I’m on my way. Keep your phone on. I’ll track you.”
Since when did Joshua become so tech savvy? “Okay.”
Ky doesn’t attack. He just creeps toward me like Sweeney Todd waiting for the right moment to cut a throat. I try to look away, but for some reason, I can’t. I can speak and blink, but otherwise I’m completely paralyzed.
Then I notice it. Same walk. Same height and build. His sweatshirt is gone, but it has to be him. Hoodie.
Joshua is asking me something, but his words don’t register. Focus. I may have only seconds left to speak to him.
“El, can you hear me? The guy. What does he look like?”
How does he know about Ky? “Blond. Pimples. Kinda skinny.”
Joshua growls. “Kyaphus Rhyen. Makai warned me about him. El, whatever you do, don’t look into his eyes.”
Too late. Ky knocks the phone out of my hand. It bounces off the curb and into the gutter. He breathes hot air onto my face. Traces it with one finger. For the briefest moment I almost think I catch a hint of regret in his eyes, a flicker of a wordless apology. But then it vanishes, leaving a determined glare in its place. Dark and cold.
My insides squirm.
He bares his teeth and licks his lips. “Come on, I won’t bite.” He reaches his other hand up to my neck. Then my world fades to black.
FIVE
Childhood
You’d think by this point I’d be used to getting ditched. The never-ending pattern of disappointment should have taught me to expect it. But despite Quinn’s selfish behavior, I thought she’d at least get me a cab before she left. Why do I bother hoping for the best in people? Aside from Mom, most everyone else has proven the only thing they’re capable of is letting me down.
I met Quinn the first day of senior year. Though it was only a few months ago, it feels like a lifetime.
“Is this seat taken?” A way-too-pretty-to-be-speaking-to-me blonde dressed as if ready to attend a funeral stands by my lab table. With one hand planted on her popped hip, she waves the other over the empty stool. A small black purse dangles from her overturned wrist.
I shake my head.
“Great.” She slides onto the stool next to mine and lays the purse on her lap.
I return my attention to the open textbook, pretending to study the periodic table of elements. I’m the only one in AP Chem without a partner, which means double the work. Like last year in Physics, no one chooses me unless assigned.
“I’m Quinn, by the way.” Marilyn Monroe meets Helena Bonham Carter sticks a fingerless-gloved hand between my nose and the book.
“Um, El.” I don’t look up.
“I just transferred from East Prep.”
I snort inwardly and flip the page. “You probably don’t want to advertise that information to the general public.”
“Why not?”
Poor thing, so innocent. So clueless.