RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
When the suits tell you not to use the Internet, you should really listen to them.
I hate being the “nobody” at school. Everything in me goes against it. I want to buy products and make this boy haircut cute. Hit the M.A.C. counter and load up on all the goodies I used to have at home. Wear Seven jeans and North Face jackets. I want my little white BMW with the leather seats and manual transmission, which all the guys were impressed I could drive as well as any of them. Every club poster in the hall makes me want to join. I want to be excited about the upcoming Mardi Gras Ball and stress over finding the perfect slinky dress.
Health class is the hardest hour to get through. Ethan’s here, and the way he watches me is alarming. I’m afraid he’s either one step from calling bullshit on my whole existence, or asking me out on a date. Neither good. I can feel the curiosity and interest coming off of him in waves. Ben’s here, too. The hostility between him and Ethan is solid. And then there’s Emma, giving me the stink eye every time she passes my desk. I know her type. If I could just keep my mouth shut when she starts crap with me, this would all die down. She’d get bored and move on to someone else. Problem is—I can’t seem to ignore her. So let the fun begin.
The class fills up just as the bell rings, and Ben and Emma walk in together. The teacher doesn’t even look in their direction. Ben nods and says “Hey” as he walks by, while Emma rolls her eyes and mutters, “Loser.”
This is the weirdest class I’ve ever taken. In the week I’ve been here, we’ve only had class in the classroom once. We’ve been to the library, the gym twice, and outside on the front lawn.
Mr. Knighton steps away from his desk and holds a fishbowl filled with little pieces of crumpled-up paper. Behind him is a similar bowl.
“Okay, class. In this bowl are numbers. Each person will draw one. It’ll match with one other person in the class. That will be your partner for the rest of the year.” A few groans and whispers fill the room. “People, settle down. After the partners are matched up, one of you will pick from the bowl behind me. That will be your first project, and you’ll have three weeks to finish.”
Sheer. Freaking. Panic. Last thing I need is to be stuck talking to the same person every single day. One part of me hopes I get teamed up with Ethan, but the other prays I don’t.
Holy hell, I could get Emma! I’m dropping out of school if that happens.
Mr. Knighton starts in the front of the room; everyone excitedly starts pulling small pieces of paper out of the bowl. By the time the bowl reaches me, a few people have already hooked up. I pluck out my slip and open it to find the number eight.
Everyone else says their number aloud as soon as it’s out of the bowl. I hear my number and turn my head around quickly to see who it is. Ben holds his paper up with the number eight on it.
Oh, no.
He scans the room to see who his partner is, and I nod when his eyes stop on me. Emma looks pissed. My stomach sinks.
“Once you’re in pairs, please move the desks so you’re near your partner and turn them to face one another.”
Ben heads toward the desk behind me and slides in. I turn my desk backward. This is so awkward. I glance around the room and see Ethan and Emma rearranging their desks until they are facing each other. She is really pretty. Long dark hair and startling blue eyes. She and Ethan look amazing together.
“Well, Ethan and Emma, funny how things work out. Should make things easy,” Mr. Knighton says, and grabs the second bowl.
Ben grins at me from across the desks. “So, I guess it’s me and the new girl.”
I give him a small smile and look back to Ethan. He’s arguing with Emma. “What did Mr. Knighton mean about them, about it being easier to do their project?”
“That’s right, new girl, you don’t know. They’re twins.”
I want to bang my head against the desk. Great. She’s his sister. His twin, for God’s sake!
“Twins. You’ve got to be kidding?”
They look so amazing together because they look so much alike. Same dark hair, same blue eyes. How can Ethan have shared a womb with her?
“So you and Emma are together, but you fight with Ethan?” I ask Ben.
“Like her, can’t stand him.” His smile is huge.
Before I can ask any more questions, Mr. Knighton gets to us with the second fishbowl. Ben looks at me and gestures to the bowl. “You pick.”
I pull out a slip of paper that reads, A Study of the Relationship Between Physical Exercise and Learning Ability. I show it to Ben, and he shrugs his shoulders like who cares.
Mr. Knighton walks to the front of the room after he finishes passing the bowl around. “I will have your packet for your project up here when class is over. For now, I’m handing out questionnaires. Any good partnership requires understanding the person you’re working with. Ethan and Emma, this assignment does not apply to you, so I’ll ask you to come to the front and help me sort the packets.”
This could be a disaster.
Ben takes the form from Mr. Knighton, hands me a blank sheet of paper, and says, “Okay, let’s knock this out together. First question: Where were you born?”
“Lewisville, Arkansas.” If he asks me about that stupid Fouke Monster, at least I’m prepared.
“Okay, I was born here,” he says.
We both scribble our answers, and I start to relax. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
“Next question: What is your favorite food? Mine is a big fat juicy steak,” Ben says.
I have to think on this. If I answer my favorite, it’ll open a ton of questions because I’ve yet to find it anywhere we’ve lived so far. So I decide to play it safe. “Pizza.”
Ben laughs. “Yeah, pizza would be my second choice.” He scans the paper again. “Some of these questions are wack. If you could learn to do anything, what would it be?”
First thoughts: Read minds, become invisible, be invincible. Can’t say those, though.
“Um, I’d want to learn how to sail a boat. I love being on the water,” I answer instead.
“That’s cool. I guess for me, I’d love to learn how to throw the perfect spiral.”
My blank look must give away my confusion, because he says, “You know. Football.”
Of all things, that’s what he picks. Whatever.
“Next question,” I say.
“If you could be any superhero, who would it be? Where does Knighton come up with this shit?” Ben thinks for a second or two, and answers, “I’d like to be Tony Stark from Iron Man. Coolest of the superheroes because he’s just a regular dude with a kick-ass robot suit. And he’s super rich.”
Mr. Knighton was right. This questionnaire really helps you know who you will be working with. I wish more than anything that Ethan was filling one of these out and I could just get a little peek at it.
This question stumps me. I know very little about the superhero world, but I remember one that I wouldn’t mind being even if just for a day.
“Wonder Woman,” I say. With her lasso of truth, I could solve a lot of my problems in just a few hours.
We go through the remaining questions: What chore do you hate doing? Ben: mowing. Me: laundry. What is your favorite body part? Horrible question, if you ask me. Ben: chest (ugh!). Me: Can’t say eyes or hair because they look like crap now, so I pick brain. That’s the best part I’ve got working for me right now. And last question: What do you want to be when you grow up? Ben: NFL football player. Me: I want to say free. That’s really all I want, to be free, but I say nurse because that sounds normal and that’s what’s expected.
After class, Ben and I walk up to the desk to get our packet. Ethan starts to hand it to Ben, but Ben motions for it to go to me. “You may as well keep it. I’ll just lose it.”
Emma walks up to Ben and says, “I can’t believe you got stuck with her.” She says her with enough venom to make my cheeks turn pink. Ben shrugs, then ushers Emma out of the room. Ethan’s busy passing out the rest of the packets.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were related to her?”
He stops what he’s doing and raises his head. He’s guarded. “Well, maybe if you didn’t run off every time I tried to talk to you, I would have.”
He leaves the room, and I feel stuck. I need him to lose interest. Get pissed. Or whatever it takes for him to move on. But I don’t like it.
At all.
I stop in the bathroom before my next class. The second I walk through the door, that same girl with the pink-striped hair is there. She’s screwing around with the wall again. What the hell is she doing? I try to get closer, but she holds her hand up.
“Back off.” She runs from the room, and I stare at the brick wall. Something’s not right here, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. I bang on the wall a few times, not really expecting anything to happen, and of course—nothing does. And then I figure it out.
That girl is nuts.
I wait for the bus in front of school, praying it will arrive soon, when Ethan’s truck pulls up to the curb. The passenger window rolls down, and I step up to the side of the truck.
“Don’t tell me you ride the bus.”
Embarrassed, I nod.
A man is standing on the other side of the driveway, looking toward the truck. I can see him through Ethan’s side window, but his features are hidden behind dark glasses and a baseball hat.
“Sorry for being an ass after class. I was pissed Ben could ask you all those questions and you had to answer them,” Ethan says.
“They were dumb questions.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been trying to get more than your first name out of you for a week now.”
“Well, I can tell you Ben would rather be Iron Man than any other superhero.”
Ethan rolls his eyes. “Ben’s a dumb-ass.”
I can’t quit looking at the man. He’s just standing there. What is he doing—waiting for someone? Something about him makes me nervous.
Ethan leans over and flings the door open. “Get in. The bus sucks.”
I hesitate for a moment. As much as I hate it, we were on the right track after health class. One ugly comment now and he’ll back away for good.
And that’s exactly what needs to happen, but for some reason I can’t explain, I’m scared for him to drive off and leave me with that guy.
“Does that man over there look weird to you?” I ask.
He turns and looks out his window and asks, “What man?”
He’s gone, just like that. I scan the school property, looking for where he went, but I’ve got nothing. He couldn’t have just disappeared like that.
I’m being paranoid, I know, but I’m close to losing it, so I jump in the truck before Ethan takes back his offer.
“You okay?”
I look for the man again through the back window as Ethan pulls away from the school, but I can’t find him. Was he really there to begin with? Am I completely losing my mind now? We turn the corner and the school is out of sight.
“Yeah. Fine.”
“Where to?”
“Home.”
As we make our way toward my house, the only sound comes from the radio, which is turned down low. It must be stress. That’s why I’m seeing people who aren’t really there—stress.
“Are you working tonight?”
“Yeah.” I can’t make this easy. I overreacted about that stupid guy, and now I’ve done the opposite of what I should have with Ethan.
“Do you always walk home from work or was it just that first day?”
I pick at the sleeve of my hoodie. “Walk. Mary goes with me at four, and my dad picks her up on his way home from work. It’s not that far.”
“It’s supposed to be real cold again tonight.”
Silence.
“I don’t mind taking you home.”
I rub one hand over my face. It would be nice to have a ride. It’d suck if a panic attack hit while I’m walking home at night by myself, but I answer, “No, it’s only three blocks.”
“What’s Mary gonna do there all afternoon?”
“Homework.”
More silence.
The air in the truck is warm and heavy with the scent of outdoors. I take a deep breath and let it fill my lungs. I like this guy and this is so not fair to him. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s too much.” My hands gesture to the truck. “All of this. Taking me home. Offering to pick me up.”
His brow comes together, trying to understand. “I just want to be your friend. What’s so damn wrong about that?”
Therein lies the problem. He has no clue what he’s asking for. In one of our placements I had a boyfriend and it ended horribly. He was a nice guy, like Ethan. He was fun and cool to hang out with, and I thought it was no big deal to be in a relationship—until the suits came and grabbed us while I was waiting for him to pick me up. I still wonder how long Tyler hung around that night.
I can’t do that to Ethan.
“Why me? Why are you trying so hard to be friends with me?”
Ethan cocks his head slightly to the side. “I don’t know. There’s something about you. You’re different. And fun to be around when you’re not so damn uptight.” He stops talking and looks out his side window. A few seconds later he turns back to me. “I can see the second you put the wall up. You damn near cringe right before you do it.”
“I’ve got a lot going on right now.” I fiddle with the straps on my bag.
“So, you’re blowing me off?”
Yes. Yes, I’m blowing you off. Don’t talk to me again, and look in the opposite direction when you see me coming. “No, I’m not blowing you off. I just don’t know right now, okay?”
God, I’m screwing this up. I should have never gotten into this stupid truck.
Neither of us speak until we arrive at my house. Mumbling a quiet thank-you, I give him a small smile and hop out of the truck.
I fold a cardboard sheet into a pizza box. It’s dead at Pearl’s right now, so she’s got me doing busy work, which makes it a perfect time to work on The Plan. I need to come up with something concrete. Dad may be stuck in the program for the rest of his life, but that doesn’t mean we have to be, too. I scroll through all the different scenarios that could make my life normal again.
We could leave Dad. Make him go through this all alone. We barely saw him before all this started, so it wouldn’t be that different.
Where would we go? Some small town like this? Mom won’t be able to work in the condition she’s in now. I’d have to drop out and work full-time. Whoever’s after Dad will still see us as something to use against him. That’s not going to work.
When I turn eighteen, I’ll leave and take Teeny with me. Go into hiding—just the two of us.
No good either. I have no money. No references. No work history. Bad guys will still try to get us.
My head falls onto the pizza box. No matter what it looks like in the movies, there is absolutely nothing glamorous about Witness Protection.
They took over our home, people everywhere, standing around talking like it was just some regular day at the office. Dad was in the corner, in quiet conversation with the head suit and two other men while Teeny cried in Mom’s lap on the other side of the room. And I just sat there watching. Trying to understand how you could come home one day and find your entire life has changed.
“Meg, got customers!” Pearl yells from the kitchen.
Business picks up, and I push away all the half-baked plans that will never work out. About thirty minutes into the dinner rush, I notice Ethan strolling into the restaurant. He smiles and nods but doesn’t come close. Instead, he walks to Teeny’s booth and slides in on the other side. The customer in front of me has to repeat his order three times before I finally hear him.
Why is he sitting with Teeny? My mind jumps to the worst conclusion: he’ll drill her with questions about me. Teeny’s so fragile right now; what if she slips? Will I be able to hide it from the suits if Ethan finds out something he shouldn’t?
Only one move that I know of was my fault. It was in our second placement. I tried hard there, fitting in and all that. I spent the night with Charlotte, a girl I’d become friends with, and it was the first time since all of this started that I’d stayed away from my parents. We’d gone to a party and drunk a few too many beers. Once we got back to her house, Charlotte passed out. I lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, and could swear her laptop was calling my name.
I snuck out of the bed and pulled the computer down onto the floor with me. Within seconds, I was logged into my old Facebook page. Before I could even think about what I was doing, I posted a message on my wall, tagging Elle and Laura. A single line—Secrets always come out. It was so stupid, and pretty cheesy, and I was drunk. Part of me wanted them to know that I knew what was going on behind my back, especially Laura, since she was the one who hurt me the most. But there was the other part of me that was just humiliated because some of what they said was true. That was the last time I’ve had any alcohol. Between that night and the last night at home, I obviously act completely stupid while hammered.
I shake my head and take a deep breath. I can’t think about that right now—there’s nothing I can do to change what happened. And I’m not sure I would even want to anymore.
I’d ended up passed out on the floor next to the computer and was woken up by Charlotte’s mother. She was shaking me, telling me my dad was outside and there’d been some sort of family emergency.
It wasn’t Dad but one of the suits. He all but threw me into the car, and the next time I saw my family was in a safe house. I had nothing but the clothes on my back. That’s why I have the bag. That’s why I never use the Internet.
The line at the counter is so deep, there’s no way to check out what Ethan and Teeny are doing. I keep glancing to the back booth, but they don’t look at me at all. After a few minutes they get up and walk toward the kitchen. Teeny’s not exactly smiling, but her eyes look brighter and she’s standing up straight, no hunched shoulders. She looks excited.
I track their progress across the dining room until they step through the kitchen door. Looking down the line of customers, I figure it’ll be at least twenty minutes before I can see what’s happening back there.
When I finally get back to the kitchen, I stand there stunned. Teeny and Ethan are making pizzas. They’re both covered in flour and sauce, and Ethan is teaching her how to throw the dough in the air and catch it. Pearl is on them to get back to work, but she’s all bark.
For the first time in months, Teeny is laughing.
Ethan finally notices me standing there. “Hey. You ready for some of these to go out?”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” It’s like my mouth won’t work.
Ethan hands me two large pizzas and then follows me out of the kitchen carrying two himself. Teeny is right behind him, carrying an order of breadsticks.
With the food delivered, Ethan turns to go back to the kitchen. I tug on his shirt and he twists around so quickly, our heads bump.
“Oh!” I grab his arm to steady myself, and he does the same. His face is close, and I can’t quit staring at one of those fat curls hanging over his eyes.
He leans in. “Yeah?”
“Uh, thanks for hanging out with Mary.” I drop my hand quickly, but he doesn’t move his. Or back up. We’re very close.
Ethan breaks out in a huge smile and says, “She’s cool. I hung out here all the time when I was a kid. Loved making pizzas.”
I bite my lip. I should tell him to go away. To leave Teeny alone.
Ethan rolls his eyes. “There you go again. All good, then something changes in your eyes. They close off.” He inches a bit closer and whispers, “It’s driving me crazy trying to figure out what’s going on with you. You told me she was coming to work with you, and it’s more fun in the kitchen than out in the dining room.” He leans in and I feel off balance again. “You look like you’re about to freak out.”
I can’t speak. He’s so close, and I’m trying super hard not to stare at his mouth. It wouldn’t take much to close the distance between us.
I’m saved by the front door chimes, and within minutes the restaurant is full.
It’s interesting to watch the crowd that comes here. No one is in a big hurry. Ever. This town is probably the most laid-back place I’ve been to. Most people ask me about my day or tell me about theirs while they wait on their pizza, and if it’s ready before they’re done talking, they hang around until they finish their story.
For the rest of the evening, we all work in an easy rhythm until Dad shows up at seven to take Teeny home. She cries when she leaves, begging me to let her stay. I try to assure her I’ll only be an hour behind her, but she’s inconsolable. I watch Dad drive off, thinking I’ve made a mistake by not giving in, when Pearl comes up next to me.
“She’ll be fine. Let’s get things picked up, and I’ll let you cut outta here early.” She turns to leave, but stops short. “You looking for another job?”
I check behind me to see who she’s talking to. When I realize there’s no one back there, I point to myself. “Me? No, why would I be looking for another job?”
“Some man called earlier, asking if you worked here and how long and all that bull. Figured he was checking your references.” She shuffles back to the kitchen and misses the utter terror on my face.
I run to catch up to her. “Did he ask for me by name? Did he ask about Meg Jones?”
Pearl looks at me like I’m stupid. “Girl, you got more than one name? Yeah, he asked about you.” She chuckles, which turns to coughing as she leaves the room.
I drop into the closest chair. Did the suits call? Would they ask questions like that? All the saliva disappears from my mouth. Surely it wasn’t the bad guys. Wouldn’t they just come get me?
Ethan walks out of the kitchen, shoving a huge piece of pizza into his mouth. He says something, but it’s all muffled. Once he gets the food down, he repeats himself. “I think Mary had fun.”
I force a smile. “She did. Thanks again for…” God, what do I want to say? Thanks for playing with her and making her laugh and smile and not worry about her drunk mother at home.
“No problem. It was fun.” Thankfully, he didn’t wait for me to finish, which is good because I can’t think right now.
Pearl bustles in from the dining room. “Meg, go on and go. Make sure Mary’s calmed down. I can finish the rest for tonight.” She follows this up with a gruff, “But be back here on time tomorrow.”
I grab my go-bag from behind the counter and follow Ethan to the door. Turning back to Pearl, I ask, “Did the man who called say what his name was or where he was calling from?”
She stops inside the kitchen door. “No, and I told him I didn’t have time for questions since we were in the middle of our rush hour.”
Ethan holds the door open and gestures to the truck. I hesitate for a second or so, then hop inside. The phone call has me freaked out, and there’s no way in hell I’m walking home in the dark by myself now.