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

Fiona rolls her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s got a stick up his butt about the show, but he’s not a bad director.”

Not wanting to argue, I keep my mouth shut. A good director would want to hear from everyone on his team. Would want any ideas that would ensure the success of the show. Esau Chavez is clearly on an ego-induced power trip.

Pulling a baggie of baby carrots out of my backpack, I crunch down on one.

Esau, who is standing in the mouth of the hallway, glares at me. “No eating in the theater.”

Surprised, I stare at him, carrot gripped in my fingers.

“No food. Period.”

I put my snack away, eyebrows rising when he doesn’t make everyone else stow their crap. It’s been less than five minutes and I’m already starting to hate Esau Chavez.

Fiona puts her popcorn away in solidarity. Marisa shakes her head.

Aunt Karen is focused on the radio when I climb into her car, but she doesn’t forget to hold out her palm for the recorder. I hand it over, not bothering to hide my annoyance at her brusqueness.

The radio talk show host is going on about security footage at some gas station in the southern part of the state. After a quick look at me, Aunt Karen turns it off.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say, even though I don’t want to listen.

“It’s fine.” The way her hands tighten around the steering wheel indicates otherwise. She maneuvers toward the street. Viv waves enthusiastically from where she’s standing next to Fiona, Marisa, and several other drama kids near the tailgate of a filthy pickup truck. I wave back before we’re too far away.

The silence in the car is oppressive. I wish my guardian would turn the radio back on. I may not want to hear the latest grizzly news coming out of southern California, but it might be better than the dead air in the already stifling car. Ugh, I wish she’d get the AC fixed in this thing.

I suck in a breath. Aunt Karen must hear the desperation in it, because she turns up the fan. Hot air blasts against my face, making me gasp, and she turns it down again.

“What were they talking about?” I gesture toward the radio. My stomach churns, afraid of the answer yet compelled to ask. Fear and anger twine in my belly, because even before my guardian speaks, I know she’s not going to say the words I have dreaded and craved hearing for months. An indication that the hell I’m in is finally coming to an end.

The woman levels a heavy look at me, considering. “There was a possible sighting of the Mayday Killer outside a gas station, but the police don’t know where he went. Or even if it was truly him.”

A shudder runs through my core.

Chapter 3

Day 96, Friday

I try to drown out the noise as I crouch and line up a shot of the herd of feet stampeding through the courtyard as the last bell of the day finishes reverberating between the buildings.

“Megan?”

A tap on my shoulder makes me whirl around, falling flat on my butt.

Noah’s peering down at me, his curly hair haloed by the blazing afternoon sun. “I was calling you, but I guess you didn’t hear me. Want help up?” He holds out a hand, which I consider taking but don’t.

I stand slowly, brushing the bits of yellowed grass off my bare legs.

“Inspiration struck, huh?”

“Something like that.”

He lopes beside me as I head for the theater. It’s my second club meeting. Hopefully I can get on Esau’s good side somehow. Otherwise, drama club is going to be pretty much torture.

Shouts and scuffing shoes emanate from the gym as we pass by, and a janitor’s cart is standing abandoned in the propped open doorway. I walk a hair faster.

“Wow, you walk fast,” Noah says, matching my pace. “Hey, I was thinking about going to the Santa Cruz boardwalk tomorrow and was wondering if you’d like to go?” He ducks his head a little, almost like he’s nervous.

I looked up the boardwalk the other day, and it does look really fun. There are tons of rides and booths with fried cookies and candy bars. Plus, it’s literally built right on the sand. I can almost feel the warm grit between my toes.

“That could be fun. Who all is going?”

Noah stops in his tracks, mere feet from the door to the theater. Adjusts his glasses. “Oh, um, a bunch of my friends. They’ll like you. Promise.”

I shear off the hint of a smile that threatens to blossom, choking it with the flicker of envy that lights in the pit of my stomach. “I’ll have to check with Aunt Karen. Can I text you?”

“Sure. Sounds great.” With a wave, he jogs away.

In the theater I sit with Fiona, Viv, and Marisa. They’ve sort of welcomed me into their group. It’s nice to have people to sit with at lunch instead of finding a grassy hill to conquer by myself.

Looking around to make sure Esau isn’t here yet, I take out the cheesy puffs in my backpack and crunch into them. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. But leaving orange fingerprints all over the theater might. I lick my fingers clean as I absorb the conversation of the girls around me.

Marisa takes a sip of her drink, ending the story about her mom, who used to be a dancer on Broadway.

“So, are you guys going to the boardwalk tomorrow?” I ask. “Noah said a bunch of people were going.”

Fiona leans closer, snagging a cheesy puff. “I haven’t heard of anyone planning to go out there. You sure he said tomorrow?”

I nod, relaying the conversation I had with Noah.

Fiona exchanges glances with Marisa before looking at me. “You know what it sounds like? Like he was asking you on a date.”

“Agree,” Marisa puts in. “Plus, he’s still walking you to all your classes, right?”

“Yes,” I whisper, not comfortable with