Don't Look Behind You (Don't Look Series Book 1) by Emily Kazmierski (summer reads .txt) 📗

the size of a penny waiting on the chair. It’s just about the cutest tiny panda I’ve ever seen, but when I look up at Esau, he’s looking studiously away. His mouth is pulled up the barest amount.

Biting back a smile, I tuck the offering in my pocket for safekeeping.

Once I’m settled he angles his body toward mine.

“I figured you’d want to see how it all looks from the audience. It’s a much better view than the sound booth.” Esau slides his eyes to mine. For once, the familiar intensity doesn’t make me bristle. Instead, it reminds me of that night in the orchard. Not for the last time, I wonder if he would have kissed me if it weren’t for Justin driving by in his car, keeping tabs on me for his black-hearted mentor.

“Where’d you go just now?” Esau asks, his head inclined toward mine. Is it just me, or is his chair closer than it was a second ago?

I blink, noticing the actors are all in place, waiting for Esau to signal them to begin. Marisa is watching us out of the corner of her eye. A dull ache starts in my chest. Please let her remember all of her lines today. “Nowhere. Sorry. Let’s see how this thing looks with the new lights.”

“Let’s get through it, then we can go back to how it’s supposed to be.”

“I’m pretty sure once you see it you’ll admit I was right.”

“Never.” My stomach flip-flops at the crooked grin Esau shoots my way.

“Never say never,” I retort. “Admitting when you were wrong builds character.”

Esau’s deep chuckle as he pushes his French braids behind his shoulders is like a delicious licorice vine. One isn’t nearly enough.

At one point during the run through, Esau slings his arm over the back of my chair, and his fingers brush my bare shoulder. My skin tingles at his touch, making me sit up straight.

Marisa’s attention catches on my face and she fumbles a line before continuing red-faced.

I’ve been dreading it, but I’m going to have to talk to her about her focus on stage. I have no idea what I’m going to say. Esau isn’t that scary. He won’t hurt you. You can’t let his brooding mess with your focus when you’re performing. Your entire cast is counting on you, and you’re letting them down. I mentally touch each reason and cast it aside. I haven’t found the right words yet, but she’s my friend and she deserves my honesty. All of it I can give her.

“Okay, you might have been right about the lighting cues,” Esau says in my ear after the act is over. “It looked really good.”

The warmth of his breath makes me shiver. “Care to say that again?”

“Not a chance.” Standing, he offers me his hand with the rubber band. “Let’s talk it over with Fiona and Dariel. See how they feel about changing it up permanently.”

“Wait, you’re actually going to ask someone else’s opinion? Are you ill?” I press the inside of my wrist to his forehead, suddenly aware of how close it brings my body to his. Quickly, I pull back, but not before Esau hits me with a devilish grin.

“If I was sick, would you take care of me?”

“Not on your life. You’d probably want to be waited on hand and foot.” I mime ringing a tiny bell with one hand.

He crosses his arms, arching one of his thick eyebrows. “Too bad. You’d be a cute nurse.” Leaning in, his mouth stops inches from mine. “I’d like to see you again sometime. You in?”

I nod quickly, too ruffled to speak.

Of course Fiona is right behind him and hears the whole thing. I have never seen such a clear “Told you so” look in my life. She’s never going to let me hear the end of it. And I haven’t even told her about sneaking out to see him the other night. Or our almost kiss.

There’s a deputy’s vehicle sitting under one of the lights in the parking lot when we tromp outside after rehearsal. It’s empty.

I scan around but don’t see them. Aunt Karen’s car is parked at the curb, and I climb inside. We exchange mechanical pleasantries as she pulls out of the lot. I’m disappointed when our conversation dies. There’s no news of Justin. My guardian would have told me if there was, because she knows how scared I am.

My focus is on the black and white parked on the street. I thought the increased law enforcement presence would make me feel better, more protected, but it doesn’t. Instead, seeing the deputies and their cars twice today is only freaking me out. Every time I see them I’m reminded of the fact that unlike all of my classmates, I’m not just another teenager trying to get through high school. I have to look over my shoulder when I walk. The Mayday Killer is still out there somewhere, fixated on me. Waiting to strike.

Chapter 22

Day 133, Sunday

Murky olive-brown water flows along the cement irrigation ditch, occasionally interrupted by large pipes that breach the walls and siphon water off to flood a field here or there. A welcome break in the heat wave has the people working in the fields moving just a little faster. A woman in a wide-brimmed hat waves at Noah and me from the middle of a pumpkin field.

Noah gives a friendly wave back. Mine is less steady because I’m too busy trying not to trip over the uneven, dry-cracked ground under our feet.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask. “If you’re looking for a place to murder me, I’ll point out that there are several witnesses right now.”

A surprised laugh breaks from Noah as he turns to grin at me. “If I was trying to murder you, I wouldn’t do it here, silly. I’d do it at the dairy. The cows would keep quiet. They like me.”

I give a quiet, tentative laugh. “I’ll have to get them on my side, then.”

“Good luck with that.