The Novel Free

Dangerous Boys





‘My roommate is crazy.’

I looked up as Alisha clattered through the diner, collapsing on a stool by the counter. She dropped an armful of bags, spilling three-ring files and pads of college-ruled paper astray. ‘They sent me a copy of her application profile,’ she continued, rolling her dark eyes. ‘She checked “nocturnal” under sleeping habits. And she’s a vegan too.’

‘Ouch.’ I poured her a soda. ‘Maybe she’s faking and thought she’d get a single.’

‘I hope so.’ Alisha sighed, slumping lower on the counter. ‘I want so badly for everything to go right, and the wrong roommate could set me back all year.’

Alisha had been planning her escape from Haverford too, for as long as we’d been friends. But while my plans took me as far as college – the rest, a hazy world of possibilities – Alisha had mapped her life with exacting strategy. She’d picked her freshman courses at UCLA before she’d even applied, researched the clubs and activities she wanted to try, and already assembled a list of grad schools for four, five years down the line.

‘So, how’s your stalker?’ Alisha changed the subject. I frowned. ‘You know, that cute guy who’s always in here.’

‘His name is Ethan and he’s not a stalker,’ I corrected her. I looked away, wiping down the counter. ‘We actually went out last night.’

‘What?’ Alisha jolted upright. ‘And you’re telling me now?’

I shrugged. ‘It wasn’t a big deal. We went to a movie.’

‘That’s it?’ Alisha demanded.

‘It was fun, I guess,’ I offered.

Alisha looked at me for a moment, then shook her head. ‘Honestly, Chloe. Sometimes I don’t understand you at all.’

I didn’t reply. I knew I was supposed to call her with breathless gossip, poring over Ethan’s texts, but the truth was, I didn’t feel all that breathless, not now the cloud of hormones from last night had ebbed away. Ethan was nice. It had been a welcome distraction, but feigning excitement would only make me feel like I was putting on a show: play-acting at teen girl swooning, when the truth was far more difficult than that.

The diner bell sounded, distracting Alisha. She looked around then spun back, making a face at me as a girl from our class strode in. Crystal Keller, one of the girls who partied out by the lake. She’d barely showed up in school, slouched in the back of every class, and now, she made a beeline for the back, wearing ratty tight cut-offs and clumpy boots, her bleached hair showing dark at the roots.

‘Restrooms are for customers only,’ I called after her. Crystal ignored me, the bathroom door slamming shut.

Alisha gave me a look. ‘I can’t believe she graduated,’ she murmured. ‘Not that she’ll do anything now. Except work in the Quick-Stop, get knocked up and have three kids by the time she’s twenty.’

‘’Lish,’ I warned her, glancing towards the bathroom.

‘What? We both know it’s true.’ She yawned, ‘I heard she f**ked two guys on the football team at a party last month, and she let them film it.’

‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘That’s what they’re saying.’ Alisha shrugged, as if she couldn’t be held responsible for rumours and gossip.

The bathroom door swung open again. Crystal emerged, this time in a different shirt – a black T-shirt with a giant tongue on the front. It was ripped up in front, showing her bra straps, hot pink, peeking from underneath.

‘Real classy,’ Alisha murmured as she passed us by. If Crystal heard us, she didn’t let on. She walked out of the diner without a backwards glance.

Alisha watched her go, a mixture of fascination and smugness on her face. ‘I’m so glad I’m getting out of this town.’

My cellphone rang before I could reply. I fished it out, wondering if it was another message from Ethan, but instead the display showed an unknown number.

‘What did I say about those things?’ Loretta called, from where she was tallying receipts in a corner booth. ‘You don’t know what kind of damage they’re doing to your brain. Radiation waves, and all sorts.’

‘Sorry!’ I moved to the side to answer. I couldn’t hear the other voice for a moment, and had to cup my hand around my ear to listen. ‘Sorry, who is this?’

‘It’s Beverly, from your mom’s office.’ The voice was tense. I froze. ‘You need to come pick her up.’

I rode as fast as I could, but it still took forty-five minutes to get out to the hospital. I left my bike unlocked by the back entrance and hurried inside through the labyrinth of hallways to the second-floor offices. Mom had always complained they crammed them into such a small department, barely big enough to fit the reams of paperwork all the insurance companies demanded. Now, I practically skidded down the hall to her office, ignoring the looks from the staff as I passed.

‘Mom?’ I threw open the door. Her colleague, Beverly, was there, and Mom – God, Mom -– was crying in the corner, huddled on the floor with her legs splayed out under her body. ‘What happened?’ I demanded. ‘Did she fall? What’s wrong?’

‘Shh.’ Beverly quickly moved to close the door behind her, sending an anxious look out into the hall. ‘I don’t know what happened, someone called me in, said they found her like this. She won’t stop.’

‘Mom?’ I approached her gently. I crouched, so our eyes were level. ‘Are you OK? Are you feeling alright?’

Mom didn’t pause for breath. She was weeping, full-out, her body shaking with sobs. I stared at her, horrified. Her makeup was smeared in desperate streaks but, more than that, she looked like a stranger, as if her face had been smudged out of alignment, put back together all wrong. She didn’t even look at me, she just kept crying in great ugly gasps.

Fear settled around me, ice cold.

‘They wanted to have Psych up,’ Beverly added, sounding concerned. She was a squat woman, all bright lipstick and spider’s legs mascara. ‘Do an evaluation, maybe give her something to sedate her—’

‘No!’ I choked out the word. ‘She’ll be fine. Thanks for calling me.’ I forced myself to act calm. ‘I’ve got it from here.’

Beverly didn’t move.

‘I said, I’ve got it,’ I insisted, digging my nails into my palms to keep from shaking. I pasted on a smile. ‘You’ve done so much already. Don’t you need to get back to work?’
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