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

“Don’t you think that’s overkill for a student liaison? One or two days, sure. But five?”

“He’s just being nice,” I say, hearing how flimsy an excuse it is.

Fiona’s head tilts to the side, lips quirked upward. “The question is, are you interested?”

My tongue gets tied in my mouth as I struggle to find something to say. I’ve known Noah for less than a week. He’s nice and all, but I’m definitely not ready to go on a date with him. That is, if Aunt Karen would agree to it, which she won’t. I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“Looks like we’re going to the boardwalk tomorrow then. Who’s in?” Fiona smiles as Marisa and Viv cheer their enthusiasm at the idea.

The theater door flies open and Esau steps inside, eyes scanning over the group of us assembled on the platforms.

Ducking my head, I try to stow the cheese puffs without crinkling the bag.

The grumpy director strides closer. “Pritchard, go see if the art teacher has any extra paintbrushes we can use to touch up these platforms. And once again I’ll remind you that there are no snacks allowed in the theater.”

“I don’t have any snacks.” I stand up, tucking my backpack under the platform.

One of Esau’s thick eyebrows arches. He looks pointedly at my fingertips, which are tinged orange. Oops.

“Sorry,” I mutter. “Can you tell me where the art room is?”

“I’ll take her,” Viv volunteers. “It’s right next to my ceramics class.”

“I need you here to inventory our costumes. She’s a big girl. You can find it on your own, can’t you?”

Esau’s condescending tone makes me frown as I march out.

What an ass.

Rounding the corner, I slam into a solid body. The air gets sucked out of my lungs as I fall backward. A vice-like hand grips my elbow, keeping me from falling. Strong fingers dig into my arm, unearthing memories that I don’t want to relive ever again.

I yank my arm until it comes loose. My pulse pounds in my temples. My eyes round when I see it’s only a janitor looming over me.

“You all right?” he asks in a scratchy voice.

I stare, blinking him into focus.

“Watch where you’re going next time, okay?” Then he’s gone.

Gasping for air, I lean against the side of the building. Telling myself over and over that I’m safe. There’s nothing to be scared of.

Of course that’s not true.

Esau spends the rest of the afternoon ordering me on stupid errands all over campus, leaving me no time to work with Fiona on the lighting and stage setup for the play. Each time I return to the theater with whatever random items he sent me to fetch, his nostrils flare. Then he sends me out again. There’s no time to share any ideas about how to make our production the best it can be. At least now I know where everything is on campus.

When Aunt Karen picks me up from school, the look she gives me is not reassuring. I know without asking that the police haven’t caught him yet. Maybe they never will.

Chapter 4

Day 97, Saturday

This interrogation has got to be over soon.

“What route are you taking to the beach?” Aunt Karen asks.

Ready, Fiona holds out her phone, navigation app open.

“That looks like a windy road.”

“I’ve been driving for two years and never had an accident.” Fiona tucks the phone into her large rattan beach bag. Her braids are up in a high twist on top of her head like a crown.

“And your car is in good shape?”

“My dad checked it over last week. He’s a mechanic at the dealership.” Fiona winks at me. She’s holding up under my guardian’s pop-quiz really well and rocking her two-piece Hawaiian print bikini and sarong too.

“Fiona’s really responsible,” Marisa adds with a firm nod. “She’s in charge of the entire stage crew for drama club, and we’ve never had any on-set accidents.” She’s wearing a full coverage rash guard over her terra cotta skin.

Viv giggles into her hand, averting her eyes when Aunt Karen zeroes in on her before looking at me.

“You’ll be careful? Not go on any dangerous rides? Or swim out too far into the ocean?”

One hand lands on my hip. “I’m not a baby. I know how to stay alive.”

A tense beat passes, and Aunt Karen scowls as if the statement is dubious at best. The stairs of the old house creak, but I don’t look toward the noise. There’s nothing there to see.

“I swear Megan will come home in one piece,” Fiona says, holding up a hand in what looks more like a Vulcan salute than scout’s honor.

“You’ll go straight to the boardwalk and straight back. No extraneous stops. And make sure to wear enough sunscreen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Swiping my bag of snacks and a water bottle out of the fridge, I hurry my new friends out of the house before Aunt Karen can change her mind. Mercifully we didn’t mention there would be boys, or there’s no way she would have let me go. She’s got the overprotective jailor vibe down pat. It’s mortifying.

I can’t blame her.

“Take the front,” Viv says as we near the car, “so you can enjoy the drive. It’s really pretty.”

Thanking her, I do. I’m relieved, because the last time I was in a car on a mountain road I may have thrown up into my favorite sun hat. RIP.

“Wow, your aunt is something else,” Fiona says once we’re all safely in her white four door.

“I thought my parents were bad,” Marisa says, sticking her head between the two front seats to plug her phone into the radio.

“Says the girl in a rash guard down to her ankles,” says Fiona.

Marisa swats at her. “Not funny. You know how my mom is about skin care. Besides, she’s kind of right. I do not want to end up leathery and brown like all the surfers who don’t wear sunscreen. I’d never get any more acting gigs.”

Bubble gum pop filters through the radio, making a thrill shoot through