the short stretch of road racing toward us beneath the headlights. Tyler is leaning over to kiss me. I like the feel of his lips on mine, but shouldn’t he pull over? It’s too dark to drive and kiss. But I’m afraid he’ll get mad if I ask him to stop kissing me and watch the road. Tyler, it’s not that I don’t want you to kiss me. Really. I just don’t want to crash. Tyler, my parents will be really upset if we die. Tyler, please open your eyes and watch where you’re going .
Open your eyes.…
Please .
My cell phone was ringing. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock on the night table. 10:34. All at once I was both relieved and disappointed. Thank God it was a dream, darn it! Tyler wasn’t kissing me, but he wasn’t driving and not watching where he was going, either.
The phone rang again. I picked it up and stared blearily at the number. It was Courtney. “What happened to our ‘No Calls Before Noon’ rule?” I answered with a yawn.
“This can’t wait,” she said. “Like, Lucy Cunningham’s parents are calling her friends, looking for her? Turns out she didn’t come home last night. Did you hear anything?”
“Hear what? When?” I asked.
“Like, last night? Didn’t you and Tyler drive her home?”
“Yes, but—”
“But she didn’t get there, okay? Jen Waits just called me.”
My thoughts drifted back to the previous night and my last glimpse of Lucy, standing stubbornly on her front walk with herarms crossed. My heart staggered and skipped. We didn’t wait to watch her go inside .
“Did Lucy say anything?” Courtney asked.
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Just anything.”
Outside my room, footsteps came up the stairs, rapidly. Rap! Rap! Knocks on my bedroom door. “Madison?” Mom came in, holding the portable phone. The tips of her blonde hair were wet, which slightly darkened the shoulders of her white terry-cloth robe. Her hand was over the phone’s speaker.
“Later,” I said into my cell phone and snapped it shut.
“Did you drive Lucy home last night?” Mom asked, worry lines joining the reddened bathing-cap line in her forehead.
I nodded. It wasn’t hard to guess who was on the phone. My parents and the Cunninghams had been close friends for years. The frown on Mom’s face deepened and she held the phone to her ear. “Paul? Yes, she drove Lucy home last night. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yes, I understand.” Mom handed the phone to me. “He wants to speak to you.”
I took the phone. Everything was happening too fast, and it left me feeling shaky and uncertain. “Hello?”
“Madison?” Lucy’s father sounded grave and urgent as he explained what I already knew—Lucy hadn’t come home the night before. “Can you tell me where and what time you dropped her off?”
“Right at your front walk around three.”
“Did she say she was going anywhere else? Or meeting anyone?”
“No.”
“Did she start up the walk toward the house?”
“Not really,” I said. “She just stood there smoking a cigarette.”
This information was met with silence. I suddenly felt guilty and added, “She only does it at parties sometimes.”
“Had she been drinking?” Dr. Cunningham asked.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure.”
Lucy’s father muttered to himself. “Did she say anything that might have indicated that she didn’t plan on going right into the house?” Anxiety and hope slithered through his words.
“No. She just seemed really upset. I mean, have you talked to Adam?”
“Yes,” Dr. Cunningham replied tersely. “Did you happen to see anyone else around when you dropped her off?” A hint of desperation tinted the edges of his voice.
“No. It was really late. I don’t remember seeing anyone. I’m really sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Madison. Just promise me that if you do remember anything else, anything at all, you’ll call me immediately.”
“I will,” I said. “I promise.” I hung up and handed the phone to
Open your eyes.…
Please .
My cell phone was ringing. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock on the night table. 10:34. All at once I was both relieved and disappointed. Thank God it was a dream, darn it! Tyler wasn’t kissing me, but he wasn’t driving and not watching where he was going, either.
The phone rang again. I picked it up and stared blearily at the number. It was Courtney. “What happened to our ‘No Calls Before Noon’ rule?” I answered with a yawn.
“This can’t wait,” she said. “Like, Lucy Cunningham’s parents are calling her friends, looking for her? Turns out she didn’t come home last night. Did you hear anything?”
“Hear what? When?” I asked.
“Like, last night? Didn’t you and Tyler drive her home?”
“Yes, but—”
“But she didn’t get there, okay? Jen Waits just called me.”
My thoughts drifted back to the previous night and my last glimpse of Lucy, standing stubbornly on her front walk with herarms crossed. My heart staggered and skipped. We didn’t wait to watch her go inside .
“Did Lucy say anything?” Courtney asked.
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Just anything.”
Outside my room, footsteps came up the stairs, rapidly. Rap! Rap! Knocks on my bedroom door. “Madison?” Mom came in, holding the portable phone. The tips of her blonde hair were wet, which slightly darkened the shoulders of her white terry-cloth robe. Her hand was over the phone’s speaker.
“Later,” I said into my cell phone and snapped it shut.
“Did you drive Lucy home last night?” Mom asked, worry lines joining the reddened bathing-cap line in her forehead.
I nodded. It wasn’t hard to guess who was on the phone. My parents and the Cunninghams had been close friends for years. The frown on Mom’s face deepened and she held the phone to her ear. “Paul? Yes, she drove Lucy home last night. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yes, I understand.” Mom handed the phone to me. “He wants to speak to you.”
I took the phone. Everything was happening too fast, and it left me feeling shaky and uncertain. “Hello?”
“Madison?” Lucy’s father sounded grave and urgent as he explained what I already knew—Lucy hadn’t come home the night before. “Can you tell me where and what time you dropped her off?”
“Right at your front walk around three.”
“Did she say she was going anywhere else? Or meeting anyone?”
“No.”
“Did she start up the walk toward the house?”
“Not really,” I said. “She just stood there smoking a cigarette.”
This information was met with silence. I suddenly felt guilty and added, “She only does it at parties sometimes.”
“Had she been drinking?” Dr. Cunningham asked.
“Yes, I’m pretty sure.”
Lucy’s father muttered to himself. “Did she say anything that might have indicated that she didn’t plan on going right into the house?” Anxiety and hope slithered through his words.
“No. She just seemed really upset. I mean, have you talked to Adam?”
“Yes,” Dr. Cunningham replied tersely. “Did you happen to see anyone else around when you dropped her off?” A hint of desperation tinted the edges of his voice.
“No. It was really late. I don’t remember seeing anyone. I’m really sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Madison. Just promise me that if you do remember anything else, anything at all, you’ll call me immediately.”
“I will,” I said. “I promise.” I hung up and handed the phone to
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