Cryer's Cross Ëàéçà Ìàêìàíí


        # The community of CryerÒs Cross, Montana (population 212) is distraught when high school freshman Tiffany disappears without a trace. Already off-balance due to her OCD, 16-year-old Kendall is freaked out seeing TiffanyÒs empty desk in the one-room school house, but somehow life goes onÅ until Kendall's boyfriend Nico also disappears, and also without a trace. Now the town is in a panic. Alone in her depression and with her OCD at an all-time high, Kendall notices something that connects Nico and Tiffany: they both sat at the same desk. She knows it's crazy, but Kendall finds herself drawn to the desk, dreaming of Nico and wondering if maybe she, too, will disappearÅand whether that would be so bad. Then she begins receiving graffiti messages on the desk from someone who can only be Nico. Can he possibly be alive somewhereØ Where is heØ And how can Kendall help himØ The only person who believes her is Jacian, the new guy she finds irritatingÅand attractive. As Kendall and Jacian grow closer, Kendall digs deeper into Nico's mysterious disappearance only to stumble upon some ugly × and deadly ×
local history. Kendall is about to find out just how far the townspeople will go to keep their secrets buried.


        For Kennedy


        ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
        Many thanks:
        To my daughter, Kennedy, for all the incredibly tough challenges sheÒs endured with her OCD, and for letting me share some of it in hopes that others might understand or find some comfort. IÒm really proud of you, kiddo.
        To my son, Kilian, for being one of my first readers, and for his discerning artistÒs eye. Also for being the front.
        To my amazing husband, Matt, my biggest supporter, who constantly picks up the slack without complaint when IÒm traveling or on deadline, and who reads everything I write, even when itÒs rough, and helps me make it better.
        To the White House Boys for telling their story and inspiring part of this one.
        To Kendall Kovalik, for whom the main character is named, and her lovely mom who donated so generously to Project Book Babe to make it happen.
        To Dave Gritter and Lindy Flanigan for your help with all the soccer stuff.
        To June and Karl DeJonge for knowing so much about potato farms in Montana.
        To Deke Snow for carrying my luggage to my room in Rochester and for being generally awesome in all ways.
        To my agent, Michael Bourret, for the encouragement, the thoughtfulness, the never-ending hard work, and the laughs. You are one amazing person. I am so grateful for everything you have done for me.
        To my editor, Jennifer Klonsky, who jumped on my extremely primitive idea for this book before I even knew it was an idea, and to the entire team at Simon Pulse for all you do for me and for my books. You guys are incredible and I love you and appreciate you so much.
        To all the AYT actors IÒve met over the years × you have been such awesome readers and spreaders of the book love. Thanks for telling your friends! And always remember that I am your biggest fan.

        WE
        When it is over, We breathe and ache like old oak, like peeling birch. One of Our lost souls set free.
        We move, a chess piece in the dark room, cast-iron legs a centimeter at a time, crying out in silent carved graffiti. Calling to Our next victim, Our next savior. We carve on Our face:
        Touch me.
        Save my soul.

        ONE
        Everything changes when Tiffany Quinn disappears.
        Of the 212 residents of CryerÒs Cross, Montana, 178 join Sheriff Greenwood in a search that lasts several days from sunup to after dark. School is closed, all the students taking part, searching roads and farms, trudging through pastures of cattle and horses, through sections of newly planted potatoes, barley, wheat. Up to the foothills and back along the woods. They travel in groups of two or three, some nervous, some crying, some resolute. Shouting to the other groups now and then so nobody else goes missingcell phones arenÒt much good out here. CryerÒs Cross is a dead spot.
        After five days there is still no trace of Tiffany Quinn. She is gone, impossibly. Impossibly, because to imagine that there has been foul play here in the humble town of CryerÒs Cross is laughable, and to imagine that sweet ninth-grade bookworm running away, going off on her own. . ItÒs all so impossible.
        But gone she is.
        Still, they search.
        Kendall Fletcher flinches and casts regular glances behind her out of habit. Scared about the younger girlÒs disappearance, true, but also unsettled by this shake-up in her schedule. The final week of her junior year canceled × everything left unfinished, open ended. Her whole routine is off.
        She walks the hundreds of acres of her parentsÒ farm and beyond into the woods, wearily counting her steps through the potatoes and grain fields and trees. Counting, always counting something.
        Her best friend, Nico Cruz, walks next to her.
        Boyfriend, heÒd say.
        But boyfriend means commitment, and commitments that she canÒt keep tend to make Kendall feel prickly. ÓCome on,Ô she says. ÓLetÒs run.Ô
        She takes off through the field, and Nico follows. They pass an imaginary soccer ball between the rows, occasionally yelling out ÓTiffany!Ô Once, after they cross over to NicoÒs familyÒs land, they see a big brown lump where the barley field meets the gravel road, but itÒs not Tiffany. Just a road-killed deer.
        SheÒs not here. SheÒs not anywhere.
        They take a break under a tree at the edge of the farm as rain starts to fall. Kendall stares and counts the drops as they hit the gray dirt, faster and faster.
        Nico talks, but Kendall isnÒt listening. She needs to get to a hundred drops before she can allow herself to stop.
        Eventually the search ends. Nothing more can be done locally except by professionals now. ItÒs prime planting season. Farmers have chores, and students do too. Plus jobs, if they work in town or for one of the farmers or ranchers. Life has to go on.
        ItÒs a long, hot summer full of hard work for Kendall. For everyone. After a month or two, people stop talking about Tiffany Quinn.

        TWO
        In September when school starts again, Kendall arrives as she always does, the first one to the oneroom high school, except for old Mr. Greenwood, the part-time janitor, who retreats to his basement hideout whenever students are around.
        Kendall is tan and not quite freakishly tall. Athletic. Her long brown hair has natural highlights from her driving a tractor and working on the farm all summer.
        There was too much time to think up there on that tractor, since all it takes is a GPS to run it up and down the rows. And when your brain has a glitch and its lap counter is broken, the same thoughts whir around on an endless loop. Tiffany Quinn. Tiffany Quinn. Tiffany Quinn.
        Kendall imagines every possible scenario for Tiffany. Running away. Getting lost. Being abducted.
        Maybe even raped, murdered. Wondering which one really happened, and if theyÒll ever know the truth.
        She pictures all of it happening to herself, and it almost makes her cry. Pictures Tiffany screaming for help, begging to live. . KendallÒs eyes blur as she remembers her summer, turning the tractor through the fields and obsessing about such horrible things. It seemed so real, so scary, as if someone were about to jump out of the woods and attack her.
        She knows some of her thoughts are irrational. She knows it and always has known it, even in fifth grade, when she used to layer on clothes × four shirts, three pairs of underwear, shorts under her jeans × anxiously, frantically, crying her eyes out for fear people could see her naked through her clothes.
        What an awful time that was. Fear like that is constant, tiring. But the psychologist over in Bozeman helped. Explained OCD × obsessive-compulsive disorder × and eventually that particular phase of worry went away, only to be replaced by other obsessions, other compulsions.
        SheÒs not crazy. She just canÒt stop thinking things when weird ideas get lodged in her head. She also canÒt stop glancing behind her × it has become her latest compulsion. This whole thing with Tiffany has set her back some.
        So sheÒs glad to be back at school, though feeling a little desperate because of how last year ended.
        And anxious to start this year fresh. Anxious to have new thoughts, new assignments bombard her brain, keep her mind occupied with non-scary things. Soccer practice starting up again. New DVD dance routines to learn. New things to keep her busy, body and mind. ItÒs a relief.
        On this first day she tidies up the classroom in a way that old Mr. Greenwood doesnÒt, turning the wastebasket so the dent is in the right place, straightening the markers on the dry-erase board and putting them in color order to match Roy G Biv as closely as possible, opening the curtains just so. Lining up the desks into their proper places in neat quadrants, one quadrant of six desks for each high school grade. Kendall creates aisles separating the quadrants to give the teacher room to walk between them, so she can address each grade individually rather than having all twenty-four desks together. ItÒs the way
        Kendall likes things.
        NobodyÒs ever complained.
        Nobody even knows.
        The desks are ancient and sturdy beasts from the 1950s, recycled by the state from who knows where. ItÒs a workout moving them all, but Kendall feels better when everything is back to normal. She sees where her old desk ended up, over in the freshman quadrant this year. Now the tenth graders will have an empty seat, unless the rumors are true. ThereÒs a new family in town, according to Nico, though
        Kendall hasnÒt seen anyone new around town yet. Kendall hopes they have a sophomore to fill the spot left by Tiffany, to make things in that section neat again. Though Tiffany coming back would be the best thing, of course. But Sheriff Greenwood and the local news anchors say thatÒs just not likely. Not after all this time has passed.
        Kendall opens the curtains wide enough so that the edges of them hang in line with the sides of the windows. Her irrational fear gets the better of her and she checks the window locks, first struggling to open the windows to make sure the locks are sturdy, then running her forefinger over each lock in the same manner. ÓAll checked and good,Ô she says. No one is there to hear her, but she has to say it out loud or it doesnÒt count.
        When she sees students walking up the yard to the little school, Kendall looks over her handiwork. The door creaks open. Kendall moves to her new desk in the senior quadrant, takes out an antiseptic wipe from her book bag, and cleans her desk quickly before anybody can see and make fun. SheÒs not a compulsive hand-washer, like some. But she likes to know the germ status of her own personal work space at the beginning of a school year. DoesnÒt everybodyØ
        Nico spies her and comes over. His straight white-blond hair hangs in his eyes. HeÒs got his fatherÒs
        Spanish name but his motherÒs Dutch looks. Nico swishes his hair aside and gives Kendall a half grin.
        Throws his book bag onto the floor and shoves his body into the desk just to the right of Kendall. ÓThese desks arenÒt getting any bigger,Ô he mutters, trying to fit his knees under the metal basin. He leans over and pecks Kendall on the cheek. ÓHey. Sorry I was late. You want to go up to Bozeman this SaturdayØÔ
        ÓWhat forØÔ
        ÓI gotta look at Montana State. Check out the nursing school.Ô
        The guy behind them snickers. ÓNurse Nico.Ô
        ÓShut it, Brandon,Ô Nico says in a calm voice. He whips his arm back without looking, and it connects with the side of BrandonÒs head.
        ÓSure,Ô Kendall says. ÓI want to check out their theatre and dance program, just in case.Ô
        Nico flashes a sympathetic smile. ÓStill no wordØÔ
        ÓNo.Ô The chances of a rural girl with very little formal training in theatre or dance getting into Juilliard are probably less than zero, but Kendall sees no reason not to start at the top.
        Kendall idly counts bodies as everyone else files in. She subtracts last yearÒs seniors and Tiffany
        Quinn, and adds the incoming freshmen. Ms. Hinkler explains the seating arrangement to the freshmen, new to this building. She also announces to the noisy room that there will be two new students this year, which is practically unheard of. The rumor of the new family must be true. CryerÒs Cross is, apparently, a boom town.
        ÓLooks like itÒll be a full house this year,Ô Kendall murmurs. Twenty-four students. Perfection.
        The two new students enter the room and everyone watches curiously. Ms. Hinkler checks them in and assigns them seats. She directs one of the new students to the senior section. He looks beyond Kendall and frowns.
        ÓHey,Ô Kendall says when he stops at the only empty desk, to the left of hers.
        The guy mutters something, but he doesnÒt look at her. He sits down and puts his backpack on the floor under his desk.
        Nico leans over KendallÒs desk. ÓHey. IÒm Nico. HowÒs it goingØÔ
        The guy nods, almost imperceptibly, but remains silent.


        Nico raises his eyebrow.
        Kendall laughs. ÓOkay, then,Ô she says. ÓThis should be fun.Ô She studies the new guy. HeÒs toughlooking and muscular. Medium-brown skin, his hair black and wavy. His clothes arenÒt anything special, but theyÒre clean and neat. His shoes are dusty like everyone elseÒs. CryerÒs Cross could use some rain.
        The other new student, a sophomore girl, has brown skin too, with a spattering of darker freckles across her nose and cheeks. Black wavy hair. TheyÒre both striking. ÓIs that your sisterØÔ Kendall asks.
        The new guy closes his eyes, feigning sleep, arms crossed over his chest. Kendall sighs. She turns her attention to her new desk, reading the graffiti. But itÒs already familiar × sheÒs been reading and memorizing desk graffiti for years now. She knows every desk by heart. She canÒt help it. ItÒs one of those OCD things.
        Being Kendall is exhausting.
        Once Ms. Hinkler has all the freshmen students checked in, she introduces them to the rest of the class. Like everyone else, Kendall pretty much knows them all. Some of their parents work on the
        FletchersÒ potato farm. But all eyes are on the transfer students. They are introduced, brother and sister indeed. The girl is Marlena and the guy is Jacian Obregon. Ms. Hinkler stumbles over his name.
        ÓNot JAY-se-un,Ô he says, suddenly awake again. ÓHah-see-AHN.Ô
        Ms. Hinkler blushes. ÓMy apologies.Ô She repeats it the right way. Jacian Obregon. It sounds like a melody. Or a tragedy.
        ItÒs a boisterous, testosterone-filled day for Kendall, wedged between Nico and Jacian, with stupid
        Brandon directly behind her and two more guys on either side of him × Travis Shank, and Eli Greenwood, who is the son of the sheriff and grandson of the janitor. ItÒs always been like this. KendallÒs the only girl her age in the entire town. It figures that when they finally get a new kid in her grade, itÒs another guy.
        But NicoÒs there like always. HeÒs been her best friend ever since they were babies. He knows about
        KendallÒs OCD, understands it, and it doesnÒt bother him at all. Best guy in the worldØ Kendall thinks so.
        She gives him a wide smile when she passes the syllabus to him.
        At lunch Kendall and Nico trade sandwiches like theyÒve done every day since kindergarten, except when Nico brings tuna salad, which Kendall canÒt stand. They eat together in the grass, talking about college options and how itÒs going to suck to be apart.
        After school Kendall and Nico head to soccer practice out in the field behind the building. Soccer here is coed and all varsity since there arenÒt enough high school girls in CryerÒs Cross to make up a girlsÒ team, and there arenÒt enough students who want to play soccer to have a JV team as well. KendallÒs the only girl to stick it out. And sheÒs better than most of the guys.
        As Kendall finishes stretching, Jacian shows up to the field, dressed in Nike soccer apparel like theyÒre sponsoring him or something. Kendall jogs in place, rubber band between her teeth, and whips her hair into a ponytail as she watches him walk. She can tell heÒs an athlete. She says his name to herself so she doesnÒt forget how to pronounce it × not a lot of Jacians around here.
        A moment later Marlena appears, dressed for practice in less obvious designer sportswear. She sees
        Jacian and runs toward him.
        Kendall stares. ÓTheyÒre both playingØÔ she says under her breath to Nico.
        ÓLooks that way.Ô Nico grabs a ball from the ball bag and tosses it at the ground in front of Kendall, who captures it with her foot and dribbles automatically away from the others.


        ÓWell, we definitely have room on the team.Ô They pass the ball back and forth. Kendall thinks of the four team members they lost to graduation last year.
        ÓYeah, thereÒs too much room, and only one freshman that I know of wants to join us. And this new girl. I suppose Coach will take anybody with a pulse. But weÒre still short. How many is that, number girlØÔ
        ÓEight,Ô Kendall says automatically.
        ÓYowch.Ô He scratches his head. ÓI hope Coach can recruit a few more, or weÒre going to be killing ourselves playing against full teams.Ô
        Kendall squints and shrugs. ÓWeÒre not the only team with low numbers. We can do it with eight. Though itÒll be hell playing Bozeman teams with the full eleven.Ô She watches the Obregons stretch, waiting to see what they can do. ÓYou know, it might be nice having another girl around,Ô she says finally. ÓJacian, on the other hand. . Well, I guess it wonÒt make a difference.Ô
        When Jacian plows into Kendall during a four-on-four practice scrimmage and leaves her with the wind knocked out of her, though, she realizes he actually might make a difference. ÓAsshole,Ô she mutters when she gets her wind back. ÓCoach, hello! That was a foul.Ô She gets back up and runs to help protect her goal, but itÒs too late. Jacian scores against her team.

        THREE
        After practice Kendall follows Marlena to the tiny girlsÒ locker room, which is more of a lean-to against the school building than anything else. ÓYou guys are good,Ô Kendall says.
        Marlena smiles. ÓThanks. Jacian is great. IÒm just okay.Ô Her voice is warm and rich.
        ÓYouÒre way better than Brandon,Ô Kendall says, feeling generous.
        ÓWhich one is heØÔ
        ÓThe immature senior loser with the light brown hair. Kinda big and dopey, about this tall.Ô She holds up her hand to about six feet four. ÓHe sits behind me in school. IÒm sure you know who I mean. The guy who didnÒt actually manage to touch the ball the entire scrimmage but fell down multiple times.Ô
        ÓYeah. I think so.Ô She grins.
        They strip down, clean up, and change back into street clothes, layering on deodorant. CouldnÒt shower even if they wanted to, but thereÒs a sink at least. ÓSo,Ô Kendall says, ÓwhatÒs your brotherÒs problemØÔ
        Marlena raises an eyebrow. ÓWhat do you meanØÔ
        ÓHeÒs not very friendly. HasnÒt said a word.Ô
        ÓOh, that. HeÒs just upset,Ô Marlena says. She lowers her voice, even though itÒs just the two of them.
        ÓHe doesnÒt really want to be here.Ô
        ÓWhy notØÔ
        Marlena shrugs. ÓMoving away from all his friends for his senior year. Leaving his girlfriend, trying to do a long-distance-relationship thing. And then when we got here. . Well, you probably know.Ô
        ÓKnow whatØÔ
        ÓAbout the sheriff coming over. Right when we moved in. Everybody seems to know everybody elseÒs business here.Ô
        Kendall shakes her head. ÓI donÒt know. I was isolated on a tractor twelve hours a day all summer.
        What happenedØÔ
        Marlena pulls a makeup bag from her backpack and starts applying eyeliner. ÓWell, we moved here in
        May, right after our school year was done down in Arizona. Right before that girl Tiffany disappeared, I guess. Sheriff Greenwood and the state police thought maybe Jacian had something to do with it.Ô
        KendallÒs eyes widen. Her heart skips, and the irrational fear wells up. ÓOh. . Ô The word gets caught in her throat, and bad thoughts start looping.
        ÓHe didnÒt, though, obviously. After a while the sheriff stopped bugging him.Ô Marlena scowls as she swipes her lips with gloss. ÓJacian was really pissed off, though. Called the sheriff a racist.Ô
        Kendall swallows hard. ÓSo. . why did you guys move hereØÔ
        ÓMy grandfather.Ô She replaces the cap and fishes around in her makeup bag. ÓHeÒs getting older, and his business wasnÒt doing very well. HeÒs not keeping up with technology. Still uses horses to round up cattle. Can you believe thatØ My mother and father decided to come here and take care of things. Family is a big deal to them. To all of us.Ô Marlena turns to look at Kendall. ÓAre you all rightØÔ


        Kendall stops staring at Marlena and turns on the faucet, washes her hands, stares at the water instead. ÓWait. . so, whoÒs your grandfatherØ I donÒt know any Obregons around here.Ô
        ÓItÒs my motherÒs father. Hector Morales. A mile down RR-4.Ô
        Kendall grins. ÓOh, HectorÒs Farm! Everybody loves him. We buy lots of stuff from him × milk, beef. I didnÒt know he was having trouble.Ô Somehow, Marlena and Jacian being related to Hector makes them a little less scary.
        ÓItÒs not too bad, my mother says. HeÒs just not able to keep up with beef orders as well as he used to, and he lost some cattle over the winter. Plus, heÒs too stubborn to hire help, so I guess he lost some commercial business. WeÒre trying to get it back.Ô
        ÓWell, weÒll keep buying all our stuff from you guys, IÒm sure. And the cool thing is you can ride. HeÒs got beautiful stables. You can even ride to school if you want. ThereÒs a hitching post over on the side of the building.Ô
        ÓNo way, reallyØÔ Marlena grins and picks up her backpack. ÓThis place is so old-fashioned. We rode back home too, but just for fun. ItÒs in the blood, I think. WeÒll be switching Grandpa over to four-wheelers soon.Ô Somebody outside the building pounds on the wall, and Marlena startles.
        ÓThatÒll be Nico,Ô Kendall says. She grabs her bag. ÓNice getting to know you.Ô
        Marlena smiles. ÓDonÒt let my brother get to you. HeÒs just pretty mad about everything right now.Ô
        ÓNo kidding,Ô Kendall says. She pushes the door open and comes face-to-face with Jacian Obregon.
        He glares.
        She glares back, but her stomach twists. ÓYou fouled me,Ô she says.
        He doesnÒt speak for a moment. When he does, his voice is lower than she expects. ÓStay out of my way, then, if you donÒt want to get hurt.Ô He dismisses Kendall by the mere act of looking beyond her, to
        Marlena. ÓCome on, Lena,Ô he says sharply. He turns in the dirt and starts walking toward the parking area.
        Marlena smiles an apology to Kendall and takes off after Jacian. ÓSee you tomorrow,Ô she calls out.
        Kendall waves halfheartedly at Marlena as Nico walks up. ÓHeÒs a jerk.Ô
        Nico nods. ÓYep. Pretty much.Ô
        Kendall smiles and starts walking. ÓLetÒs go. IÒve got chores and homework. Felt good to play again, though, didnÒt itØÔ
        ÓIt was awesome. You get hurt at allØÔ
        ÓNo. I can take it. . Ô She trails off.
        ÓWhatØÔ
        Kendall looks over her shoulder as they cross the dirt road and cut the corner of a barley field.
        ÓMarlena said they moved here right before Tiffany disappeared, and that EliÒs dad suspected Jacian might have had something to do with it.Ô
        ÓWhatØ ThatÒs crazy.Ô


        ÓIs itØ I mean, how would we knowØ HeÒs mean. Maybe heÒs unstable.Ô
        ÓKendall.Ô
        ÓSeriously, what if he has her all tied up in the woods. Or maybe he chopped her up into little pieces. .
        .Ô
        ÓKendall, stop it. ThatÒs ridiculous.Ô
        SheÒs not convinced.
        They walk until they reach the halfway point between their respective family farms × directly across the road from each other. For a moment they stand in the middle of the road facing each other and holding hands. Nico leans in and kisses her sweetly.
        ÓDonÒt work too hard,Ô Nico says.
        ÓYou either. Call me at elevenØÔ
        ÓAlways.Ô
        Kendall smiles, and they part company, each down their long driveways.

        FOUR
        At home Kendall throws her backpack onto the big oak kitchen table. ÓHi, Mom,Ô she sings, and gives her mother a kiss on the cheek.
        ÓHow was your first dayØÔ Mrs. Fletcher stands at the sink watering her herb garden. SheÒs tall and dark-haired like Kendall, wearing capri jeans and a red-checked short-sleeved shirt, knotted at her waist.
        ÓFine.Ô
        ÓWas it hard without Tiffany thereØÔ
        ÓYeah, a little. Everybody noticed but nobody said anything × pretty much what I figured.Ô
        ÓHowÒs the OCDØ Do you feel a little better now that youÒre back into the school routineØÔ
        Kendall breaks off a piece of a bran muffin and shoves it into her mouth. ÓImmensely. Shit, IÒm starving.Ô
        ÓHoney. Inside language, please.Ô
        ÓSorry. Man, IÒm starving. BetterØÔ
        ÓYes. What else is newØ Did you meet HectorÒs grandkidsØÔ
        Kendall tilts her head. ÓYou know about themØÔ
        ÓTheyÒve been around for a couple months.Ô
        ÓWhy am I the last to know everythingØÔ
        ÓI didnÒt know you didnÒt know. The girlÒs been sitting at their market stand all summer. Such a striking young woman.Ô
        ÓWell, IÒve been on that damn tractor all summer, watching my leg muscles atrophy. IÒm all wobbly.Ô
        ÓLanguage, Kendall.Ô
        ÓSorry. Got used to farm talk again. Maybe you shouldnÒt make me work so hard with all those swearers.Ô
        Mrs. Fletcher looks like sheÒs trying not to grin. ÓI know. But the work is good for you. Builds character.Ô
        Kendall rolls her eyes and pulls the milk jug from the refrigerator. Its label reads FRESH AS HECK FROM
        HECTOR FARMS. How could anybody not adore Hector MoralesØ She pours an impossibly large tumbler full and drinks it all. Slams it on the counter, empty. ÓAny mailØÔ
        ÓNothing from Juilliard.Ô
        Kendall screws up her nose, disappointed. ÓOkay. Well, what needs to get done before I start practicingØÔ
        ÓDadÒs checking the southwest field today to see how close weÒre getting to harvest. He wants you out there to show you how he does that. Then dinner. Then homework. Then you can practice.Ô
        ÓBig sigh, Mummy,Ô Kendall says. ÓI am so sick of potatoes, I could scream.Ô


        ÓAnother six weeks and itÒll all be pretty near over.Ô
        Kendall starts jogging to the field, but the milk sloshes in her stomach and her thighs burn from the soccer scrimmage, so she slows down to a walk. Even out here, on her home turf, Kendall feels uneasy walking alone. She heads for the southwest field, looking nervously over her shoulder every thirty paces or so.
        After a few minutes she hears her fatherÒs familiar yell and catches up to him. ÓHey, Daddy!Ô
        ÓHowÒs my girlØÔ Mr. Fletcher air-hugs Kendall. His hands are filthy.
        ÓGood, now that IÒm with you,Ô she says, demure. ÓWhatcha gotØÔ
        ÓThis here is what we call a potato,Ô Mr. Fletcher says.
        ÓFascinating.Ô
        They walk the field together a few rows apart, stopping now and then to check for ripeness, rot, and bugs. KendallÒs mind wanders, remembering earlier in the day, picking up random thoughts to obsess over.
        ÓMachines are good,Ô Mr. Fletcher says, taking on a teaching tone, Óbut they donÒt compare to the human eye, or the touch of a hand. ThatÒs the real way to keep crops, to be one with them, to create potatoes that love you back.Ô
        ÓYeppers,Ô Kendall says, but sheÒs not paying attention. SheÒs picturing Jacian sneaking off to kidnap, murder, and chop poor innocent girls into pieces.
        By the time she gets her homework done, itÒs nine thirty p.m. and her legs ache, but sheÒs not done.
        She slips a DVD into the player and sits down on her bedroom floor to stretch and warm up. By nine fortyfive sheÒs running through ballet positions, and then she works into her routine, the one she choreographed herself for the Juilliard application video. It feels good. But sheÒs exhausted.
        By the time Nico calls her phone line at eleven to say goodnight, sheÒs already asleep. But itÒs a good sleep. Being busy and exhausted is about the best thing for KendallÒs brain.
        She even forgot to check her window lock six times.

        WE
        Thirty-five. One hundred. Thirty-five. One hundred. We know. The weight, the heat. There is life heavy against Us again. A heartbeat, a pulse through taut skin.
        Please.
        Help me.

        FIVE
        In the morning Kendall rises at six. She gets online and looks up the youth theatre in Bozeman, wondering what productions theyÒre doing this fall and if there would possibly be time to squeeze in a play on top of soccer and life. Last spring she got the part of Miss Dorothy in Thoroughly Modern Millie. It was the most fun Kendall has had in her entire life. The director called her a natural, and she even got nominated for a local youth theatre award. Not bad for her first musical.
        But Kendall has always known she wants to sing, dance, act. SheÒs been doing it on her own since she was a little kid, always doing productions in the barn, using cats as her other actors if she couldnÒt talk
        Nico, Eli, Travis, or even stupid Brandon into participating.
        Nico usually played along. He is the closest neighbor, and their mothers have been friends since before Kendall and Nico were born. Nico was agreeable to doing almost anything Kendall requested, except when it came to singing or dancing, which Kendall thought was probably good, since heÒs terrible at both.
        Kendall pulls up the theatreÒs website and sees they are auditioning for Grease. She scans the rehearsal schedule but knows itÒs impossible. She canÒt drive all the way out to Bozeman multiple times a week during harvest and soccer season. Too far away. Too many conflicts.
        Too many stupid potatoes.
        She checks her e-mail and then closes her laptop and gets ready for school.
        At school things are pretty much just as they were yesterday. Kendall turns the wastebasket, straightens the markers, opens the curtains, tugs to check the windows, and runs her fingers over each window lock. ÓAll checked and good,Ô she whispers. Then she makes minor adjustments to the desks.
        She watches the students arrive, many of them walking, some driving cars or pickup trucks. Kendall tries to see CryerÒs Cross through the eyes of a newcomer like Marlena. Some of the students wear cowboy hats and boots, others wear Gap or LeviÒs or Target or home sewn. ItÒs not that strange, she guesses.
        When Nico comes walking up to the school, Kendall smiles. SheÒs really proud of him wanting to be a nurse. HeÒs been bandaging cats and farm animals since the two of them were little. The other guys arenÒt jerks about it like Brandon.
        The school day progresses. Ms. Hinkler assigns the upperclassmen various things to read and work on, and then she spends the most time with the freshmen, which sheÒll do for this first week, until they get used to her and how things work.
        In the senior section Brandon and Travis sleep. Eli Greenwood reads for a while, then jiggles his leg and doodles in the margins of his English book. Jacian does trigonometry problems on scratch paper until his work is done, and then he slumps in his seat and traces his finger over the desk graffiti. Nico props his head up with one arm and rests the other on the desk next to his open physics textbook. His eyes close. Kendall pretends to read, but sheÒs daydreaming about Broadway.
        There is something about performing that soothes KendallÒs overactive brain. ItÒs like the concentration necessary for acting takes the attention away from the never-ending circle of thoughts that drives her sometimes irrational behavior. And she wants it × she wants that relief. That control over her list of obsessions and compulsions. Maybe this winter she can do another show once soccer and potatoes are done. Maybe.
        In the sophomore section Marlena glances over her shoulder, catches KendallÒs eye, and smiles.


        At noon everybody heads outside to eat lunch or hit the locker rooms for a bathroom break. Some go home for lunch if they live close to town. Nico and Kendall live just a little too far away to make that worthwhile.
        ÓBored yetØÔ Kendall lies down on her back in the grass next to Nico. ItÒs a beautiful day, a few clouds, maybe seventy-five degrees.
        Nico is quiet. Kendall pokes him.
        ÓHmmØÔ
        ÓI asked if you were bored yet. With school.Ô
        With visible effort he pulls himself from his thoughts. ÓOh. No. I think IÒm going to like physics.Ô
        ÓI wish we had more options. You know. Ceramics. Drama.Ô
        Nico rolls to his side and looks at Kendall. Touches her cheek. ÓMe too, for you. No mailØÔ
        ÓNope.Ô
        ÓGood.Ô Nico falls back again. ÓI donÒt want you to go.Ô
        Kendall laughs and punches him in the shoulder. ÓStop! YouÒll jinx Juilliard.Ô
        ÓI know. IÒm sorry. I just wish you werenÒt going to be way out in New York. . I havenÒt gone a whole week in my entire life without seeing you × since before you were born.Ô
        ÓWell, maybe you should consider coming out that way too. Why do I have to be the one to stay around hereØÔ
        Nico winces. ÓYouÒre right.Ô
        ÓOf course I am.Ô She sits up. Closes her eyes and sighs. ÓBut the truth is, IÒm not going to get into
        Juilliard, and we both know it. So. Saturday IÒm checking out State with you.Ô
        Nico grins. ÓAwesome.Ô
        Back in the classroom, though, Nico acts distracted. He rests his head on his desk, eyes half closed.
        Kendall pokes him when Ms. Hinkler is working with the sophomores. ÓAre you okayØÔ
        Nico turns slowly to look at Kendall, a faraway look in his eyes. ÓFine,Ô he says. He faces forward once again, his fingers sliding across the edge of his desk.
        ÓYouÒre acting really strange.Ô
        ÓShh,Ô Nico says, distracted. He shakes his head slightly and doesnÒt answer further. Then he puts his head back down and closes his eyes.
        At soccer practice Coach works the team hard. They run drills and suicide competitions. ItÒs hard work, but Kendall savors it. It keeps her mind busy. But as she runs, something Jacian said yesterday keeps repeating in her mind, a syllable with every step. Stay out of my way, then, if you donÒt want to get hurt.
        Did Jacian say that to Tiffany Quinn, too, before he killed herØ Kendall shakes her head, admonishing herself in jagged whispers as she runs the suicide drills. She glances at him. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Just run.
        She beats everybody. ItÒs never happened before, but KendallÒs in her groove today. Jacian comes in second. Eli is third, with Marlena grabbing his shirt trying to pass him, but she ends up fourth. NicoÒs off his game, coming in seventh out of the eight. Jacian walks away, gasping for breath.
        Kendall smiles triumphantly before half the team shoves her onto the ground and piles on top. She gasps and laughs, trying to shield her face from kicking legs and waving arms. Briefly catches JacianÒs eye as he stands a few feet away, watching the congratulatory pileup. His eyes burn holes into hers. She flails and turns, and sees Nico, but heÒs staring off at nothing.
        In a minute she wriggles out from under the pile as Coach yells for everybody to get back to work.
        At 11:05 p.m. Kendall calls Nico. ÓWhatÒs up with youØÔ
        ÓHuhØÔ
        ÓYou missed the call. You almost never miss the call.Ô
        ÓOh. Uh. . I lost track of time, I guess. Got a lot on my mind.Ô
        ÓYou want to talk about itØ PleaseØ YouÒre starting to worry me.Ô
        ÓNo. No, thanks. I have to go.Ô
        ÓOkaaay. . Ô
        ÓGood night, Kendall.Ô
        Kendall pulls the phone from her ear and stares at it for a second, and then puts it back up to her ear again. ÓAre you kidding meØÔ
        But all she hears is a dial tone. Her stomach twists. Nico hung up on her. ÓDamn, boy,Ô she says. ÓThis college thing must be huge for you, thatÒs all I can say.Ô She calls his private line again. Five times.
        All she gets is a busy signal.
        She checks her lock six times and then stares through the window, out over the front fields. Toward
        NicoÒs house.
        All is dark.
        Kendall shivers.

        WE
        Touch Our face and youÒll hear Us again. YouÒll wonder. YouÒll let Us into your mind, your thoughts.
        Your soul. We whisper to you in a single melting voice × the voice you want to hear. You know that voice. You miss it.
        You want to save it.

        SIX
        The first week of school nears an end. The unspeakable absence of Tiffany Quinn is mostly forgotten, replaced by new assignments, new students, and a need for life to be normal. Kendall performs her morning routines × the wastebasket, the markers, the windows, the desks × and things are good. Mostly.
        Jacian still doesnÒt speak in class unless Ms. Hinkler asks him a question.
        And Nico is completely lost in his own world, oblivious to Kendall.
        He wonÒt discuss it.
        Her brain goes into overdrive.
        ÓNico,Ô she says at lunch, outside on the grass. ÓIs it meØ Is it something I didØ

        He stares at the sky. His lips move, but no words come out.
        ÓNicoØÔ
        He turns to look at Kendall. ÓWhatØÔ
        Kendall bites her lip, and tears spring to her eyes. ÓWhatÒs wrong with youØ Monday you were normal, and now everythingÒs really weird.Ô
        He just shakes his head. ÓNothing.Ô
        ÓAre we still going to Bozeman tomorrowØÔ
        ÓBozeman. . Oh, yeah. Yeah, sure.Ô
        ÓAre you mad at me or somethingØÔ
        He stares for a minute as if heÒs trying to comprehend the question, and then he takes her hand. ÓNo, baby. I love you. Like always.Ô He looks into her eyes and brings her hand to his lips. But his look is vacant. He kisses her knuckles, drops her hand, gets to his feet, and walks back into the school.
        ThereÒs no soccer practice on Fridays × not until games actually begin. Nico starts home after school without Kendall. She watches him, incredulous, and then she turns and walks up the street into town.
        The town portion of CryerÒs Cross consists of one four-way-stop intersection with a handful of stores, a restaurant, and a big indoor farmersÒ market that doubles for whatever else might require a large organized space throughout the year. Kendall climbs the steps to the drugstore, in desperate need of tampons.
        Outside the building is a porch with an awning, and under the awning, sitting in aged wooden chairs, are old Mr. Greenwood and Hector Morales. Kendall grins and waves. The two men often sit together in the early evenings during good weather, not talking, just sitting. Old Mr. Greenwood is grouchy, but Hector brightens up when he sees Kendall.
        ÓMiss Kendall,Ô Hector says. ÓCome here, please.Ô
        Kendall goes over to the men. ÓYes, sirØÔ
        ÓYou are a good friend to Marlena at school. Thank you for that. You hear meØÔ


        Kendall smiles. Hector is such a sensitive man, so kind. She wonders how his offspring could have produced somebody so awful as Jacian. ÓMarlenaÒs a great girl,Ô Kendall says. ÓReally good at soccer.Ô
        ÓAnd Jacian, he is our soccer champion,Ô Hector says with a proud chuckle.
        ÓYes,Ô Kendall says, trying to sound enthusiastic. ÓYes, heÒs really talented.Ô
        ÓHe needs the friends too,Ô Hector says, a little softer, but somehow with more punch. ÓPeople need friends.Ô He glances at Mr. Greenwood, who shifts uncomfortably. ÓYouÒre a good girl. You give him a chance, okayØÔ
        ÓOkay,Ô Kendall says. What else can she sayØ ÓIÒll try.Ô And before she can help it, she adds, ÓAnd he should give everybody else a chance too.Ô
        Hector looks thoughtfully at Kendall, his finger on his lips as he thinks. ÓI agree, Miss Kendall. You are wise for someone so young, and I thank you.Ô
        Kendall canÒt help smiling. She reaches and takes his hand, holds it for a minute. ÓGood to see you again.Ô
        She goes inside the shop and wanders around, looking at things. Thinking about Nico, and wondering whatÒs really going on with him.
        Then she pays and walks the mile home, looking over her shoulder every thirty paces. Walking alone always reminds her of Tiffany Quinn.
        Kendall does her chores and homework, mopes about Nico but is glad theyÒll have a chance to talk things out tomorrow on the way to Bozeman. Her parents say good night and turn in. By ten thirty Kendall falls asleep on the couch watching music videos.

        WE
        You lay your cheek against Ours and whisper, ÓWho are youØÔ We feel your heart, your quickening breath. Your pulsing blood. Yes, We hear you. And We know what to do. Soothe. Beckon. Tempt.
        Capture, oh yes. We capture you. From the first touch, We had you.
        Come back tonight.
        Save me!
        Say nothing!

        SEVEN
        Kendall wakes up to the doorbell ringing. Once, twice. Bright sunshine streams in through the living room curtains × she slept on the couch all night. Crap, she thinks. Overslept. Bozeman today. She goes to the door in her pajamas.
        ItÒs not Nico.
        ItÒs Jacian. With a side of beef.
        ÓDelivery,Ô he says. HeÒs wearing dark sunglasses, and Kendall canÒt see his eyes. She grips the placket of her pajama top in residual fifth-grade fear.
        ÓOh.Ô She moves out of the way as he brings a box inside. She wonders briefly if she has morning breath. If it were anyone else at the door, she might actually care.
        ÓFreezerØÔ He shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
        ÓDownstairs. . Here.Ô Kendall runs her fingers through her tangled bed-head and leads him to the basement door, down the steps. ItÒs cool down here. Smells like rain and dirt. She opens the freezer door and hurriedly rearranges the containers of sweet corn she and her mother prepared and froze last month. She puts them into neat rows, stacking them just right.
        ÓThis is heavy,Ô Jacian says.
        Kendall stops arranging. ÓJust. . set it on the floor. IÒll pack the freezer.Ô
        He sets the box down and heads up the stairs two at a time. ÓThereÒs another box,Ô he calls over his shoulder.
        ÓI should hope so,Ô Kendall says. ÓOr else itÒs a really small cow. One of them mini cows.Ô Nobody hears her.
        A moment later Jacian is back. He flips his sunglasses to rest on top of his head, and he starts unpacking the box. Kendall blocks him from putting anything away. ÓItÒs okay, really. I got it.Ô
        ÓMy grandfather said IÒm supposed to do this,Ô he says. ÓItÒs part of the Hector FarmsÒ service.Ô His voice turns sarcastic at the end, and Kendall remembers her conversation with Hector.
        ÓItÒs really not necessary.Ô Kendall is in the organizing groove, and she wants it done just right.
        ÓYouÒre doing it wrong, anyway. Put all the steaks together, hamburger together, roasts together. Not by size and shape but by category, or youÒll never know how much of one item you have left.Ô
        Kendall stops cold, stands up straight, and glares at him. She puts one hand on her hip and holds a two-pound package of frozen hamburger in the other. ÓGo force your condescending man-logic on the next house. You can go now.Ô
        He glares back and doesnÒt leave. He works his jaw, like he wants to say something.
        KendallÒs mind flashes to Tiffany Quinn. She glances at the freezer, picturing it full of chopped-up abducted girls, and then looks back at Jacian, whose black eyes are on fire now. A wave of irrational fear moves through her chest, and she tries not to show it on her face. SheÒs down in the cellar with a kidnapper, nobody else home. ÓGo away. Please.Ô
        JacianÒs eyes narrow, then soften. ÓFine.Ô He steps back, turns sharply, and walks up the stairs.


        Kendall hears his feet and the click of the front door closing.
        She glances over her shoulder nervously as she packs the beef in the freezer. By size and shape. ItÒs the only way she can stand to do it.
        She rushes through her shower and gets ready. Waits until almost noon for him to show up. And then she calls NicoÒs house. NicoÒs line is busy. Kendall hangs up and calls the home line instead. Mrs. Cruz answers.
        ÓHey, Mrs. Cruz. Nico thereØÔ
        ÓKendall! No, havenÒt seen him up yet this morning. Leave a messageØÔ
        ÓHmm.Ô Kendall thinks. ÓWeÒre supposed to go to Bozeman today. Maybe you should wake him up.Ô
        ÓSure thing. IÒll have him call you in a minute.Ô
        ÓThanks!Ô
        ÓBye, hon.Ô
        ÓBye, Mrs. Cruz.Ô
        Kendall hangs up and flips on the TV. The news anchor talks about that sixteen-year-old serial killer in
        Brazil again × the girl who killed twelve people. Wow. Just wait until she tells Nico. Makes Jacian the teenage kidnapper look just a little bit lame.
        Twenty minutes pass, and Kendall grows concerned that Nico hasnÒt called. Just when sheÒs about to call him again, the phone rings.
        ItÒs NicoÒs mother.
        ÓKendall,Ô she says, her voice distressed, ÓNicoÒs not home. His bed is made. ThereÒs no note.Ô
        KendallÒs stomach jumps into her throat before she can think rationally. ÓIs his car goneØÔ
        ÓYes.Ô
        ÓOkay. Well, thatÒs good, then, rightØ HeÒs probably just out somewhere.Ô KendallÒs tongue is thick. She swallows hard. Breathes.
        ÓYes, thatÒs probably it,Ô Mrs. Cruz says, and then she laughs anxiously.
        Kendall whispers, ÓMaybe he went to Bozeman without me.Ô

        EIGHT
        They find the car. ItÒs not in Bozeman. ItÒs parked at the school.
        And NicoÒs not there.
        After a cursory search through the town and all around the school grounds, NicoÒs parents start contacting everybody they can think of, asking if theyÒve seen him.
        There is no sign of Nico Cruz.
        NicoÒs car engine is cold, and according to Sheriff Greenwood, there are no clues inside. Not in the car, or in the school. Still, they tape off everything as a precaution. After what happened with Tiffany
        Quinn, itÒs never too soon to suspect a missing person. EverybodyÒs on edge.
        When Kendall hears the news about the car, she runs the mile from her house to the school. The car looks so lonely sitting there, surrounded by onlookers. Air crushes her chest. She sinks to her knees, canÒt catch her breath. People start crowding around her to see the car, the school. . as if there is something to see. But thereÒs nothing. Just a car, a building. Yellow tape.
        ÓHe could be fine,Ô someone says. ÓMaybe weÒre all overreacting. HeÒs practically a grown man. Maybe heÒs out for a hike.Ô
        ÓMaybe heÒs hunting back in the woods.Ô
        ÓMaybe his car ran out of gas and he pulled in here.Ô
        ÓYes, letÒs not jump to conclusions.Ô
        But the other whispers are there too, growing louder. ÓAnother one. WhatÒs happening to our safe little townØ All the children are disappearing.Ô
        Kendall tries, fails to tune them all out.
        ItÒs all she can do to just breathe. And count.
        Count breaths: thirty-six. Count stones in the dirt: more than fifty. Count people saying stupid things: all of them.
        Count all the days sheÒs known him: infinity.
        Maybe heÒll be back before sheÒs done counting.
        Maybe not.
        The buzzing noise of the people grows louder and louder, and Kendall canÒt think. She canÒt count with so much distraction. She stands up and shoves through the crowd, screaming, ÓShut up! Shut up! Shut up! All of you just shut up!Ô Tears blur everything.
        Someone grabs her sleeve. Blindly she whips her arm away and runs, runs like hell. Runs almost all the way home, until her feet canÒt keep up with her and she plunges forward, down onto the gravel, shredding her palms and knees. And then she just lies there as a huge splash of hurt rips through her body, and sheÒs so grateful for the pain, because she can feel it. It lets something else loose. She sobs. There in the gravel on the side of the road in front of NicoÒs farm, she sobs, under the old rusty mailbox where she used to put notes for him, grasshoppers and bees fly and buzz around her in a panic.
        ItÒs not long before she hears feet crunching on the gravel. When the sound stops next to her, she lifts her head and looks up, squinting into the sun. Her lip starts quivering again. ÓMom,Ô she says.
        ÓI couldnÒt run quite as fast as you,Ô she says, Óbut at least you ran in the right direction.Ô
        Kendall slowly pushes herself up to her feet. Tries to wipe the gravel out of her hands and knees, but some of itÒs stuck hard. She starts crying again and gives up as Mrs. Fletcher wraps her arms around the girl.
        ÓCome on inside,Ô KendallÒs mom says. ÓLetÒs get you cleaned up. Sheriff Greenwood is coming over in a few minutes. He wants to talk to you.Ô
        Kendall jerks her head up. ÓWhyØÔ
        ÓJust to get an idea of who saw him last. Nobody thinks you did anything. They think he left the house late last night.Ô
        ÓWhy would he do thatØÔ Kendall limps up the long driveway to their farmhouse. ÓI think my brain is going to burst,Ô she says. ÓMy OCD is going crazy.Ô
        ÓI know, honey. This is hard. But weÒve got to stay hopeful, okayØ HeÒs a big strong guy. He can take care of himself. We just need to figure out what happened. Find out where he is.Ô
        Kendall nods. Inside the house she works on cleaning her wounds. Mrs. Fletcher turns on the news, but thereÒs nothing about Nico yet. Takes a while for word to travel to civilization from way out here.
        Sheriff Greenwood arrives, cowboy hat in hand. With him is someone Kendall doesnÒt recognize.
        ÓAfternoon, Mrs. Fletcher, Kendall. This is Sergeant Dunne from the Montana State Police. HeÒs here to help us find Nico.Ô
        ÓHello, please sit down,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says, pointing to the dining table. She walks through the great room into the kitchen, gets cups, saucers, and the coffee pot, and pours coffee automatically, as if the two cops come over for coffee every day.
        They sit at the dining room table, and Sheriff Greenwood takes out a notepad. ÓFor the sake of time, weÒre going to get right into the questions here, okayØÔ He continues without looking up to see the nods.
        ÓNow, Kendall, can you describe your relationship with Nico CruzØÔ
        Kendall is immediately flustered. ÓWhat do you meanØ WeÒre neighbors, best friends since we were little kids. You know that.Ô
        Sergeant Dunne leans in and says, ÓAre you all datingØÔ
        ÓYes, I guess so. I mean, we donÒt really go out all that much, but yeah. . sort of.Ô
        Sergeant Dunne nods. ÓSo heÒs your boyfriendØÔ
        ÓNo. I mean. .Ô Kendall looks to her mother for help.
        ÓKendall doesnÒt like to use that term because it feels too much like a commitment, but yes, for all intents and purposes here, Nico is KendallÒs boyfriend.Ô Mrs. Fletcher holds KendallÒs hand and squeezes it. She looks at Kendall and says, ÓOkayØÔ
        Kendall nods. She agrees. She just canÒt say it.


        ÓOkay,Ô Sheriff Greenwood says. ÓWhen did you last see NicoØÔ
        ÓYesterday at school. I had to go into town to pick up a few things after school. He went home.Ô
        ÓWhat thingsØÔ
        Kendall blushes deeply. ÓTampons. Not that itÒs any of your business.Ô
        ÓKendall,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says, ÓtheyÒre just trying to figure things out.Ô
        ÓSorry, miss,Ô Sergeant Dunne says. ÓSo that was at what timeØÔ
        ÓThree thirty-five, I guess.Ô
        ÓYou didnÒt see him after thatØÔ
        ÓNo.Ô
        ÓDid you talk with him last nightØ E-mail, phoneØÔ
        ÓHe calls me most nights around eleven.Ô
        ÓDid he call last nightØÔ
        Kendall hesitates, trying to remember. ÓActually, I donÒt know. I fell asleep on the couch down here watching TV. MomØÔ
        ÓI didnÒt hear your phone ring,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says. She turns to the men. ÓKendall has her own phone line in her bedroom. It didnÒt ring down here, as far as I know, but Dad and I were asleep by ten.Ô
        ÓYou go to bed early on a Friday night,Ô the sergeant says lightly.
        Mrs. Fletcher looks at him sharply. ÓWe live on a farm. Day begins at five a.m., sir. We donÒt pause for the weekends.Ô
        Sergeant Dunne nods. ÓYes, maÒam.Ô He turns back to Kendall. ÓSo you donÒt think he calledØÔ
        ÓI donÒt know if he called. I canÒt hear my phone ring down here.Ô
        Dunne looks at Greenwood. ÓIÒll have them check phone records. Please write your phone number here, Miss Fletcher. NicoÒs, too, please.Ô
        ÓDidnÒt Mr. and Mrs. Cruz already give you NicoÒs numberØÔ Mrs. Fletcher asks.
        ÓMaÒam, there could be more than one number. Teenagers hide things from their parents all the time.
        DonÒt they, KendallØÔ He glances at her.
        She glares back at him. ÓI donÒt.Ô
        Mrs. Fletcher pours more coffee.
        ÓAll righty, Kendall,Ô Sheriff Greenwood says. ÓHow has Nico been acting latelyØ The same as always, or differentØ Anything unusual that springs to mindØÔ
        Kendall swallows hard. She doesnÒt like Sergeant Dunne. DoesnÒt want to say anything that might make
        Nico look bad. But she knows she has to tell the truth. ÓHeÒs been acting preoccupied the last few days.Ô
        Her voice catches a little, but she controls it. ÓWe were supposed to go to Bozeman today to look at
        Montana State. He wants to be a nurse. So I think he had that on his mind.Ô


        Sheriff Greenwood writes for a moment. ÓWhat else do you think could have made him act preoccupiedØ AnythingØÔ
        Kendall thinks hard. Shakes her head. ÓNothing I can think of.Ô
        ÓWere you two having relationship problemsØÔ
        ÓNo. I mean, I asked him if he was acting weird because of me, and he said no, he loved me just like always.Ô Kendall chokes on a deep sob that comes from her gut. Mrs. Fletcher puts her arm around
        Kendall. SheÒs crying too now. The bad thoughts start going in KendallÒs head again. Stuff she canÒt control. Could Jacian have done something to Nico, tooØ
        Sheriff Greenwood writes a few more things, and then closes his notebook. ÓOkay. ThatÒs it for now.Ô
        Kendall looks up. ÓAre you going to question Jacian ObregonØÔ
        Mrs. Fletcher turns sharply toward Kendall, surprised.
        Sheriff Greenwood shakes his head firmly and says with an edge in his voice, as if heÒs said it ten times before, ÓJacian Obregon is not a suspect here or in Tiffany QuinnÒs case. Do you have reason to think he should beØ Real reason, I mean, not just rumorsØÔ
        Kendall opens her mouth, and then she closes it again. And then says, ÓNo, sir.Ô
        ÓGood. Then, letÒs leave him out of it. HeÒs been through enough.Ô
        Kendall stares at the sheriff. ÓIÒm sorry,Ô she says after a moment.
        He nods and smiles sympathetically, and suddenly heÒs EliÒs dad again. ÓNo harm done.Ô He stands up, and Sergeant Dunne follows. ÓWeÒre going to do everything we can to find him.Ô
        ÓAre we going to do a massive search thing, like with TiffanyØÔ It strikes Kendall that a search could turn up absolutely nothing, just like last time. She canÒt let herself believe it.
        ÓItÒs being planned right now, and the first responder teams are already out there, just in case. You should get a call this evening with instructions for an organized search first thing tomorrow. Hopefully weÒll find heÒs just out hiking in the foothills or something and it wonÒt be necessary.Ô
        ÓThank you,Ô Kendall says. Mrs. Fletcher walks them to the door. Kendall lowers her head to the table.
        Numb. She knows heÒs not hiking. He would never do that alone. Not without her.
        Just then, Sergeant Dunne pops his head back in. ÓBy the way, Kendall, what was the relationship between Nico and Tiffany QuinnØ Did they know each otherØÔ
        Kendall lifts her head and looks at Sergeant Dunne. She narrows her eyes. ÓOf course. Have you seen the size of this townØ Everybody knows everybody.Ô
        He smiles disarmingly. ÓDid they ever do anything togetherØ You know. . maybe there was something going on between them.Ô He pauses. ÓItÒs an awfully strange coincidence, two kids from a town this small.Ô
        Kendall slowly sits up. ÓNo,Ô she says. ÓNo, there was nothing going on between them. She was just a kid.Ô
        ÓAt the time of her disappearance, she was fifteen. Nico was seventeen.Ô He stops, as if that explains something. ÓWere you and Nico dating thenØÔ


        Kendall speaks through gritted teeth. ÓYes. Sort of.Ô
        ÓDid he ever take you to any secret places, in the mountains or the woods, to get away from everybodyØ Maybe to be alone, have sexØÔ
        ÓNo!Ô she says, flustered. ÓWe arenÒt that serious. We arenÒt. . sexually active.Ô
        ÓOh, right. You said that you didnÒt want a commitment in the relationship. Were you two free to see others, thenØÔ
        Kendall shakes her head, trying to grasp what heÒs really saying, feeling like sheÒs in an episode of Law
        Order: SVU. ÓHe wasnÒt seeing her. I know he wasnÒt. OkayØÔ
        Sergeant Dunne is quiet for a moment, looking at Kendall. And then he says in a low voice, ÓWell, maybe he is now.Ô
        Mrs. Fletcher stands quickly as Kendall shoves her chair back and gets up. It makes an awful scraping sound on the wooden floor. Her hands are trembling. ÓWhat are you sayingØÔ
        ÓWeÒre just covering all our bases. Running through all the scenarios.Ô His cliche-laden monotone is deeply annoying.
        ÓWhy would he do anything to herØ If they wanted to be together, nobody was stopping them!Ô
        Sergeant Dunne tilts his head. ÓMaybe he got a little frustrated with your noncommitment and did something he was ashamed of. I donÒt know. You tell me.Ô
        ÓWell, youÒre wrong!Ô KendallÒs voice breaks.
        Mrs. Fletcher steps in, her voice clear and firm. ÓSergeant, is there anything elseØÔ
        Sergeant Dunne doesnÒt take his eyes off Kendall, though his gaze softens a bit. For a moment he doesnÒt move. And then he says, ÓNo, maÒam, thatÒs it for today.Ô He nods once and steps back outside.
        ÓLet us know if you think of anything else that might help us find your friend,Ô he says to Kendall.
        Kendall flees the kitchen and runs upstairs to her room.
        Falls apart. Sobbing. So lost in this situation, she cannot handle it. Her brain canÒt handle it.
        All she can do is try. Try to stop picturing Nico and Tiffany in some secret mountain hideout having sex together.

        WE
        Panting in the depths of a lightless night, We sigh in collective. You made your way through, found your new home nestled in the ground. Your sacrifice has been received. Another trapped soul set free.
        Our remaining souls beg, bloodthirsty now. Soul-thirsty. Together, imprisoned inside wood and metal, We wait again and scratch anew.
        Touch me.

        NINE
        By early morning the national news networks pick it up. This small-town teen runaway story is no longer worthy of only a tiny blip on the radar of Bozeman TV. Within twenty-four hours it has become the unfortunate American horror sensation of the week. NicoÒs face is splashed all over TV, and Tiffany
        QuinnÒs entire history is resurrected and replayed along with NicoÒs history. ItÒs not long before reporters try to connect the two in sinister ways, just like Sergeant Dunne did yesterday with Kendall. Did Nico
        Ómake Tiffany disappearÔ and now has disappeared himselfØ Where could they beØ What is the dark side of Nico CruzØ
        Oh, yes, itÒs all speculation. The reporters admit it.
        But you can tell they believe it.
        Mr. Fletcher turns the TV off. Kendall stares at the blank screen, her hair disheveled, eyes red.
        ÓKendall,Ô he says. He puts his hand on her arm.
        She doesnÒt move.
        ÓHoney.Ô
        Kendall just shakes her head. Whispers, her throat sore from crying, ÓI canÒt believe this is happening.Ô
        Her father stands up, pulls her to her feet. Hugs her close and whispers, ÓCome on, pumpkin.Ô
        Kendall nods, her cheek against his shoulder. When she pulls away, she sees the shine in his eyes.
        He looks away. ÓLetÒs go find him.Ô
        There are helicopters. News teams are arriving, setting up camp in front of the Feed and Seed shop and inside the farmersÒ market.
        More police mill around than KendallÒs ever seen before in one place. Many people drive or walk to the town center, but several come on four-wheelers for the sake of faster off-road searching. Marlena and
        Jacian are among them. Kendall narrows her eyes.
        Sheriff Greenwood stands on the steps of the restaurant with a bullhorn, and he holds it up, testing it out to get everybodyÒs attention.
        Kendall looks around. ItÒs barely dawn on a Sunday morning, and everybody is here, just like last time.
        Except for Nico.
        Students eye Kendall warily, sympathetically, looking unsure if they should approach her. Most donÒt.
        Kendall and her parents walk over to NicoÒs parents and stand quietly, the moms exchanging hugs.
        Nothing much to say. Lack of sleep is evident in all their faces, and that says it all. Kendall sees Tiffany
        QuinnÒs mother standing in the crowd. She looks old, like sheÒs aged ten years since May. Kendall glances at NicoÒs parents and wonders what will happen to them.
        Sheriff Greenwood speaks, quiets everyone down.
        Everything is so horribly familiar, and for Kendall, a thousand times worse.
        ÓThanks for coming out,Ô Sheriff GreenwoodÒs voice booms. He clears his throat as the crowd grows silent, and he lifts the bullhorn to his lips again. ÓIt seems impossible that we are doing this again. Yet here we are.Ô
        He pauses a moment, glancing at a white paper that shakes in his hand in the breeze. ÓTo give you an update, we officially declared Nico Cruz a missing person at around seven p.m. yesterday. WeÒve spoken to a number of people since then, and trained officials have been searching overnight. WeÒve found no sign of him at this point.
        ÓIÒve decided, after conferring with the other law enforcement whoÒve come down to help us, that weÒll run our search much like last time. This time, however, there will be no groups smaller than three, and no child under eighteen will be permitted to travel anywhere alone from now on, until further notice. Not on foot or by car or horseback. ThatÒs not just for the search × thatÒs a new CryerÒs Cross curfew.Ô
        There is a wave of murmuring in the crowd, not just surprise but fear.
        ÓLet me define that further: No child or teenager seventeen and younger shall travel alone in the village limits of CryerÒs Cross at any time until further notice. Children thirteen and under must be accompanied by someone over eighteen. Teens fourteen and up will be allowed to move about using a buddy system.
        You will be assigned school buddies based on where you live, for the sake of convenience.Ô He pauses.
        ÓIf you do not comply, you will be arrested.Ô
        ArrestedØ Kendall stares at the Sheriff. School buddiesØ The only other teenager who lived in her direction from school was Nico.
        There is more murmuring. ÓQuiet, please,Ô urges the sheriff. ÓThis is very important. We donÒt want to lose another one of you. Please feel confident that even though IÒve known most of you teenagers since you were babies, I will not hesitate to arrest you if I see you wandering or driving alone. We donÒt yet know what we are dealing with here, and we must proceed with appropriate caution rather than foolishness.Ô
        He pauses. ÓLetÒs start searching. Please find your same groups from spring and wait for instruction. If you are in need of a group, see me. Stay together, return together. Teens, when you return today, see me. IÒll have the buddy list ready.Ô
        Kendall glances at Mrs. Cruz, who holds tightly to her husband. It sounds like Sheriff Greenwood expects they wonÒt find Nico today, the way heÒs planning this buddy thing. It feels terrible.
        The sheriff lowers the bullhorn, a resolute look on his face. Then he nods, and people disperse into groups on the sides of the streets.
        Kendall stays close to her parents at her motherÒs request. ItÒs kind of comforting, since Kendall is group-less. Last time she searched with Nico.
        The tone is somber and way too familiar as the groups get their instructions and set out to comb the most remote part of the valley again. Last time everything was freshly planted. This time the potato fields are plump and green, ripe for harvest, and the leaves on the trees are just starting to change colors.
        Kendall wonders how many days her parents can search when thereÒs so much to do on the farm right now. But sheÒs too tired to ask. All she can do is wearily count steps, and rows, and trees, repeating crazy sentences in her mind as she scans the vegetables and grain, and then goes on to grassy fields and woods. Looking for the body of her best friend. Torn between hoping she finds it and hoping she doesnÒt.
        She doesnÒt. No one else finds him either.
        When they return to town, Sheriff Greenwood is there, talking with Hector, Jacian, and Marlena, and what must be their parents.


        Kendall stops. DoesnÒt want to see Jacian right now. Still doesnÒt know what to think of him. And certainly doesnÒt want him to say anything to her about Nico. Fresh tears spring to her eyes as she pictures going to school without Nico there.
        ÓStop it,Ô she mutters to herself. ÓHeÒll be back.Ô
        But it feels so much more futile this time. With Tiffany everyone was so hopeful. Now that disappearing seems to have become an epidemic, the hope is gone.
        ÓDadØÔ Kendall says. ÓWe have to find him. I want to keep searching. ItÒs not dark yet.Ô
        Mr. Fletcher checks his watch. He glances at Mrs. Fletcher.
        ÓIÒm in for another round,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says. ÓWhy donÒt you head back to the farm, Nathan. Kendall and I will go out again with someone else.Ô
        Kendall smiles tearfully. ÓThanks, Mom.Ô They go out with another group.
        After dusk, when Kendall and her mother return, they find Sheriff Greenwood again. Exhausted, Mrs.
        Fletcher goes into the restaurant to call KendallÒs dad to come out and pick them up. Kendall approaches
        Sheriff Greenwood.
        ÓI need my school buddy assignment,Ô Kendall says. SheÒs so tired she can barely hold back the tears now.
        Sheriff Greenwood glances at her and takes his clipboard out. ÓYouÒre all alone out that direction,Ô he muses.
        ÓNo kidding.Ô Kendall canÒt help it. SheÒs still stinging from yesterdayÒs interrogation, even though the sheriff played the good cop.
        He mumbles, ÓEliÒs grouping with the north end. Travis is east, but one of you would have to travel alone to meet up. . hmm.Ô
        Kendall scratches the toe of her boot in the dirt as the sheriff reconfigures his list.
        Darkness descends quickly without big-city lights. The stars twinkle. She hears the four-wheelers before she sees them. ItÒs Marlena and Jacian.
        ÓAh, now thereÒs a thought,Ô Sheriff Greenwood mutters, looking up. ÓYes. ThatÒll work.Ô He turns toward them. ÓYou two can swing by for Kendall on school days, rightØÔ
        Jacian is silent, and in the dark, Kendall canÒt gauge his reaction. Marlena pipes up, ÓSure. WeÒd love to.Ô She climbs off and goes over to Kendall. Gives her a swift hug. ÓIÒm really sorry. You must feel horrible,Ô she says softly.
        KendallÒs throat tightens. She nods. CanÒt speak.
        ÓWe covered miles and miles, made it to the foothills and up beyond CryerÒs Pass, along the woods, and back.Ô
        ÓThatÒs awesome,Ô Kendall says, without enthusiasm. Her body aches. She just wants to crawl into bed and forget everything.
        ÓJacian and I can give you a ride home now if you need one. You look exhausted.Ô
        ÓMy dadÒs coming. Thanks.Ô SheÒs almost asleep on her feet.


        At home she checks all the windows and doors in the entire house before falling into bed.

        WE
        The quiet stretch unsettles, rattles Our aching souls. We roam the floor, bitter, restless, shoving others out of Our way. Searching for new life. And then We grow quiet and return to Our spot.
        Remembering, hoping.
        We save Our energy for another day.

        TEN
        After a week of chaos the local search for Nico Cruz ends. TheyÒve combed every accessible section of the valley on foot. Every American with a TV has heard about the strange situation in ÓquaintÔ CryerÒs
        Cross, Montana, where young, innocent Tiffany disappeared in spring, and sinister, older bad boy Nico disappeared only months later. . probably because he killed her. Or brainwashed her into hiding out for three months so they could fool people into thinking their disappearances were unrelated.
        Never mind the quiet girlfriend, Kendall. She keeps her head down and doesnÒt talk to the reporters.
        Does she know somethingØ Speculation ad infinitum.
        Kendall canÒt stand it.
        Every morning Kendall wakes up and remembers. And every evening at eleven her phone doesnÒt ring.
        More than once she thinks about calling NicoÒs number just because it feels like a connection, but she doesnÒt want to startle his family, make them remember, force them to relive their personal horror any more times than they already do.
        Over the course of the week Kendall goes from shock to mourning to frustration and fury. The news crews are bored, tired of having only one restaurant to eat in and no fast food within thirty miles. Tired of the loyal, tight-lipped people. They try to get a fresh angle, but the people of CryerÒs Cross are a quiet, protective group. Even Jacian just gives them a look and walks away when they yell out questions to him.
        Kendall sits on the restaurant steps, waiting for her mother to stop chatting inside the drugstore. She pushes her hair off her forehead. It falls back again when she stares down at her hands. Behind her, old
        Mr. Greenwood and Hector Morales sit in their chairs, not talking. As usual.
        Jacian comes toward them. ÓAbuelo,Ô he says sharply. ÓAre you coming now with meØÔ Kendall notices that he takes on a hint of an accent when he speaks to his grandfather.
        Jacian ignores Kendall, walks right past her up the steps.
        Hector looks up and says something to Jacian in Spanish. Jacian replies in Spanish and then turns, jogs down the steps and to his four-wheeler. He heads off alone.
        Kendall turns and squints at Hector. ÓJacian isnÒt supposed to be going off alone, you know. He could get arrested.Ô
        Hector smiles, but he looks worried. ÓHeÒs okay. HeÒs already eighteen, and stubborn. What can I sayØ
        Sheriff says heÒs legal to go alone, just stupid. ItÒs nice of you to worry about him, though.Ô
        ÓIÒm not worried about him,Ô Kendall says crossly. How can she explain itØ The rule-follower in her canÒt help but say something.
        ÓIÒm sorry, Miss Kendall. Truly. About the Cruz boy. I know he was your beau.Ô
        Kendall stares at the dirt between the steps. ÓHeÒs not dead,Ô she says. ÓHe still is my. . my beau.Ô
        She cringes at the old-fashioned word. ItÒs odd how the longer Nico is gone, the easier it is to call him her boyfriend.
        Hector is quiet. Kendall glances at him to make sure heÒs not mad at her tone, and he assures her with a sympathetic smile.
        ÓWhereÒs MarlenaØÔ she asks. ÓDid she search todayØÔ
        ÓShe took a fall last night, so sheÒs been down all day. She hit a rut that was hidden by brush and she flipped off her four-wheeler. She got a little too cocky with it, going too fast.Ô He says it softly, his hand shielding his mouth. ÓDonÒt let the news crews hear of it.Ô
        ÓOh, no,Ô Kendall says. She pulls herself out of her own misery for a moment. ÓIs she okayØÔ She remembers suddenly that tonight would have been the first soccer game of the season, but Coach canceled because of Nico.
        ÓShe broke her leg and dislocated her shoulder,Ô he says. ÓSheÒll be okay.Ô
        KendallÒs eyes bug out. ÓOh my God. ThatÒs terrible!Ô Her fingers flutter up to her throat. ÓI canÒt believe this. IÒm so sorry, Hector. I didnÒt know. Is there anything I can doØÔ
        He tilts his head and glances at old Mr. Greenwood. ÓAs I always say, people in tough times need tough friends. Right, friendØÔ
        Mr. Greenwood grunts.
        Finally KendallÒs mother emerges from the drugstore. She grabs HectorÒs hand and squeezes it. ÓI just heard about poor Marlena inside,Ô she whispers. ÓSo sorry to hear it. IÒll drop Kendall by to visit tonight.Ô
        Hector raises an eyebrow at Kendall, as if to say, SeeØ This is how itÒs done, but all he says is, ÓYes, maÒam. SheÒll appreciate that.Ô
        As Mrs. Fletcher and Kendall walk home, the news trucks come roaring past on their way out of CryerÒs
        Cross, leaving a trail of dust. For them the story is over.

        ELEVEN
        Kendall sits in silence as Mrs. Fletcher drives her to HectorÒs ranch. SheÒs tired. Not quite ready for life to resume.
        ÓCall me when youÒre ready to be picked up.Ô
        ÓOkay,Ô Kendall says with a sigh. ÓHow about nowØÔ
        ÓItÒll be good for you to think about someone else for a bit,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says carefully. ÓHelp you cope.Ô
        Kendall doesnÒt have any tears left. SheÒs too weary to voice what she and her mother both know × that
        Nico is probably inexplicably gone forever, just like Tiffany, and life has to go on. In a farming town it is a simple fact of survival. The produce, the animals × no one can make living things pause in their growing.
        Not one human event can make the potatoes wait. When they are ready, they are ready.
        Kendall pauses at the front door of HectorÒs house as her mother drives back down the long driveway.
        Jacian is in the grassy yard between the house and a corral. A floodlight shines on a soccer goal. Half a dozen soccer balls are scattered over the grass and around the net, and Jacian dribbles one slowly, then fakes left and spins around an invisible opponent. He passes the ball to himself and sprints to the goal, smashing the ball into the net at a sharp angle.
        He moves like a dancer.
        He reaches down to pick up a ball and sees Kendall standing there. They stare at each other for a moment. Then Kendall breaks the stare and knocks on the door.
        Mr. Obregon lets Kendall in. He and Mrs. Obregon greet her warmly and thank her for coming. They usher her through the house to the family room, where Marlena rests on the sofa, right leg in a cast that reaches to midthigh. Her left shoulder is immobilized in a sling. Hector sits nearby in an old rocking chair.
        MarlenaÒs eyes are closed, but she stirs when Kendall comes in.
        ÓHey,Ô she says with a sleepy smile. A single crutch lies on the floor next to her.
        ÓHey,Ô Kendall says, taking it all in. ÓWow. Did they keep you at the hospital overnightØ This looks. . really serious.Ô
        Marlena grins. ÓYeah, but itÒs not as bad as it looks. The fractureÒs nice and small × cast on for four weeks, maybe six. My foot itches like crazy, though. The shoulder × I dislocated it before once in a soccer tournament back in Tucson. This time it popped right back in. SwellingÒs going down already. Just hurt like a futhermucker for a few minutes.Ô
        ÓMarlena,Ô Hector says. He narrows his eyes and shakes his head slightly, but Hector couldnÒt look mean if he tried.
        ÓSorry, Abuelo. ItÒs the painkillers.Ô Marlena looks guilty.
        Hector chuckles. ÓWhat makes you do it the rest of the time, hmmØ You must be always on the painkillers.Ô
        ÓIt wasnÒt even a real swear!Ô
        ÓIt is the intent, not the word, that makes something harsh,Ô Hector says. ÓSo yes, I agree. In this case you are off the hook.Ô He turns to Kendall and reaches out. ÓHow are you this evening, Miss KendallØÔ


        Kendall walks over to him and takes his hand for a minute. ÓIÒm okay,Ô she says with a shrug. ÓAt least
        IÒm not in pain like Marlena.Ô Or like Nico. He might be in pain too, if heÒs even alive. She glances out the picture window behind Hector to where Jacian continues to work soccer plays. He nails the goalpost, and the ball ricochets out. Kendall sees Jacian yell his frustration, but she canÒt hear him. She nods out the window. ÓDoes he do that a lotØÔ
        ÓEvery evening with Marlena,Ô Hector says. ÓItÒs his dream to play professional.Ô
        Marlena eases to a sitting position and follows KendallÒs gaze. ÓHe looks so alone out there. HeÒs worried.Ô
        ÓAbout whatØÔ Kendall asks.
        ÓThe team.Ô
        ÓYeah,Ô Kendall says. ÓMe too. Losing. . losing Nico. . Ô She turns abruptly to look at Marlena. ÓOh, crap. And you. Der. I. . Ô She thinks for a minute, and then her lips part as she realizes. They are down to six players. Their already too small team is now no team at all.
        Marlena presses her lips together and looks like sheÒs going to cry. ÓI heard Jacian on the phone with
        Coach tonight after dinner. He was trying not to yell. Then he went storming out there. ItÒs been hours.Ô
        Her voice quivers. ÓI feel so bad.Ô
        ÓWell, thereÒs no rule that says we canÒt play,Ô Kendall says, but her heart sinks. ÓJust common sense.
        Eight was already too tight. Six. .Ô She trails off. She was counting on soccer to bring her out of her misery. If she canÒt dance or act, playing soccer is her savior. ItÒs the only other thing that can occupy her mind enough to stop the whirling in her brain. ÓMaybe thereÒs a freshman we can coerce, just to get our numbers,Ô she says, but she already knows that Coach has begged every eligible kid in school just to get the eight they have × or had, as of a week ago.
        ÓYou know thereÒs not,Ô Marlena says, miserable. ÓCoach is tapped out.Ô
        They sit together in silence, mourning for different reasons.
        After a minute Marlena says, ÓHow are NicoÒs parentsØÔ
        ÓIn front of me they seem fine. Like theyÒre really trying to be upbeat for my sake. My mom says theyÒre having a terrible time, though. HeÒs their youngest kid and the only one left here. Everybody else moved away.Ô
        ÓThatÒs so sad,Ô Marlena says.
        Neither of them really knows what to say.
        Hector interrupts the silence. ÓMaybe you can tell us something about Nico,Ô he says. ÓStories always help. Tell Marlena about when you were younger.Ô
        Kendall sighs, but humors the older man. ÓOkay. . Ô She thinks for a minute. ÓWell, so weÒve been neighbors since I was born. Nico is two months older than me. We grew up together, rode bikes or walked to each otherÒs house every day. Both of us have farms, and our houses are set really far back from the road, like yours here. Riding my bike to NicoÒs felt like this really long journey, so I always had to pack a lunch, rightØÔ She smiles a little at the memory. ÓAnd then I always felt bad so I packed a lunch for
        Nico, too, and then IÒd ride down the driveway on my bike and stop at the road, looking both ways like fifty times, even though thereÒs hardly any traffic down our road, and IÒd get up the nerve and fly across the street and make my way to NicoÒs, maybe stop and try to catch a grasshopper or whatever. And by the time I got all the way up to his house, IÒd be all ready to have my lunch because it felt like a lot of work, but


        Nico always made me wait. HeÒd come out and weÒd go ride around the tractor trails all through his property, all along the perimeter of their land. Their property backs up to a neighbor who doesnÒt live there anymore × an old man who died a few years ago, Mr. Prins. Remember him, HectorØÔ
        ÓOh, yes. He was a cranky old deaf man. DidnÒt have a kind word for anybody at the end. I knew him since I was a teenager,Ô Hector says. ÓHe wasnÒt always so mean, but sometimes things happen that change a person.Ô His eyes cloud.
        ÓYes, well, I was scared to death of him. But Nico was totally fascinated. He couldnÒt stay away. He tormented that man and dragged me into it with him. Mr. Prins would be hoeing his garden and weÒd stand right behind the property line, as if it somehow protected us, and scream at the top of our lungs, trying to get him to look at us, ready to run like heck if he ever looked up. But he never did.Ô
        ÓI thought he was deaf,Ô Marlena says.
        ÓHe was,Ô Kendall says. ÓNico figured he was faking it.Ô
        ÓWhen did you eat your lunchØÔ
        Kendall smiles. ÓThereÒs a big oak tree in the back corner of their farm. His older sister and brothers built a tree house in it and left it once they grew up. WeÒd go up there and eat lunch and play all day. He didnÒt mind playing house with me, or acting in all the dumb little plays I always wrote. It was like we were meant to be together forever.Ô
        Marlena looks like sheÒs about to cry again.
        ÓIÒm so sorry,Ô she says.
        Kendall takes a deep breath, lets it out, and smiles shakily. She leans forward in her chair, puts her chin in her hands. ÓWhat am I going to do without himØ HeÒs my best friend. ItÒs like half of my soul was ripped out.Ô
        Hector quietly eases out of his chair and leaves the girls to talk.
        Almost as if Marlena turned a switch, Kendall finds herself spilling everything × her fears, her sadness.
        How upsetting it was when people insinuated that Nico had something to do with TiffanyÒs disappearance.
        She even tells Marlena about her own secret problem. Her obsessive-compulsive disorder, and how this stress is making it harder than ever for her brain to settle down. How sheÒs hoping so much for soccer to help her cope, but now thereÒs that worry too. How this buddy system thing is going to ruin everything. She canÒt even go for a run when she wants to. And how scared she is, wondering whoÒs next to disappear.
        ItÒs after nine when Mrs. Fletcher returns for Kendall. She comes in for a minute, carrying a plastic container of something, and sets it on the counter. Says a quick sympathetic hello to Marlena and makes small talk with MarlenaÒs parents in the kitchen. Kendall, feeling a little vulnerable, gives Marlena a gentle hug good-bye and goes outside, where Hector stands, leaning against the railing of the big wraparound porch, watching Jacian.
        ÓThanks, Hector,Ô she says, Ófor making me talk about Nico. That really made me feel better.Ô
        Hector nods and smiles. ÓIt always hurts, but it helps, too,Ô he says. ÓIÒm glad youÒre not so stubborn, like some.Ô
        Kendall watches Jacian. HeÒs moving more slowly now. She can only imagine how exhausted he must be. When he slips on dewy grass, he flops to the ground and lies there on his back, chest heaving. ÓI guess maybe we all have different ways of working things out,Ô she says. ÓSometimes they even make sense.Ô


        Hector squeezes her hand. ÓThank you for coming. Will we see you again tomorrow, thenØ Marlena wonÒt be in school for a couple days. Not until she can get around on one crutch, or until her shoulder is well enough to handle a second one.Ô
        Kendall nods. ÓSure, IÒll be glad to come by. Maybe I can just. . Ô She pauses as she realizes that itÒll be just her and Jacian tomorrow for their first day back.
        ÓCome home with Jacian after soccer, maybeØÔ
        Mrs. Fletcher comes out and closes the door behind her. ÓReady, KendallØÔ
        Kendall squeezes HectorÒs arm. ÓMaybe. WeÒll see.Ô She turns to her mother. ÓYep. Ready.Ô
        They wave good-bye, and are home four minutes later.
        NicoÒs driveway looks dark and lonely.

        TWELVE
        She doesnÒt want to get up today.
        Everything is about to be very different.
        She thinks about faking sick, but she knows her mother will just force her out of bed. ÓI highly regret this day in advance,Ô she says to the ceiling. Finally she hoists herself out of bed and gets ready for school.
        She halfheartedly packs her soccer clothes and wonders if sheÒs actually already played the last game of her high school career.
        When Jacian pulls up in one of HectorÒs ranch trucks, Kendall shoves the rest of her toast into her mouth. She chews quickly and swallows, grabs her stuff × then sets it all down again because her OCD wonÒt let her leave the house without brushing her teeth. Jacian comes to the door and knocks.
        She spits out the toothpaste, rinses her mouth, and wipes it dry, then grabs her books and runs to the door. HeÒs standing in her way.
        ÓHi,Ô she says.
        He nods curtly. ÓReadyØÔ
        ÓYeah.Ô
        He strides over to the pickup and opens her door for her. Stands there impatiently as she stares him down, Kendall wondering what his possible motive could be.
        ÓYou donÒt need to do that,Ô Kendall says. ÓI can handle getting a door myself.Ô
        ÓMy grandfather will ask you if I opened the door for you.Ô He goes to the driverÒs side. ÓIÒm just trying to make the old man happy.Ô
        ÓIÒll tell him yes. From now on.Ô
        ÓFine.Ô
        He starts the truck and turns around in the driveway, navigating the bumps carefully. Kendall glances at him and slumps against her door, hugging her book bag. She stares out the window as he turns onto the gravel road. She looks over her familyÒs farm, and she hates this day. Hates everything about it. She sees her father up on the big combine as JacianÒs truck picks up speed. Her father doesnÒt see her. HeÒs trying desperately to catch up for all the time he spent searching for Nico, she knows. She wonÒt see much of him until after harvest is over.
        They drive in silence. Jacian pulls into the dirt parking area next to the school building. He parks and turns off the ignition and sits there. Kendall looks at him, and then back at her lap.
        ÓYou talked to Coach,Ô she says.
        He nods. DoesnÒt look at her.
        ÓWhat did he say about the teamØÔ
        He pulls the keys from the ignition. Opens his door. ÓHe said heÒll let us know whatÒs going to happen at practice today.Ô He clears his throat and gets out of the truck. Heads for the door to the school and goes inside.


        Kendall gets out too and shuts the door. Watches the students coming to school in groups now. And then she feels her chest tighten. She remembers all of her rituals × the wastebasket, the markers, the curtains, straightening the desks. Her heart drops and she hurries inside, sees that some of the students are already sitting down. Fear stabs through her. This canÒt happen.
        Everything is thrown off, and she canÒt let anybody see how weird she is. Anxiously she glances at the wastebasket and nudges it with her foot until itÒs properly turned. The markers are askew so she saunters over to them as if sheÒs going to draw a silly picture on the white board like some of the other students do.
        Instead she bumps the tray and knocks them onto the floor. She picks them up again and puts them in their proper order. And then she goes over to the windows where other students mingle, whispering about how weird it is to be back after what happened, again. She tugs at the curtains that she can reach and lines them up, pretending like sheÒs looking for someone. One window remains blocked, people standing in her way. She bites her lip anxiously, trying to maneuver a path, but finally she just gives up and leaves it. She hurries over to the senior section, trying to straighten a few desks as she goes, and feeling an overwhelming failure. She knows itÒs not going to be right. She doesnÒt notice Jacian watching her, a look of mild curiosity on his face.
        She slips into her desk next to Jacian and taps her fingers anxiously, unable to do anything about it. ItÒs going to bother her all day, she knows. Maybe at lunch she can take care of things.
        And then, when she sets her backpack on the floor, she turns to her right, like sheÒs done every day for twelve years. To talk to Nico.
        And no one is there. His desk is empty.
        Every bad thing comes rushing at her. Every emotion × surprise, grief, fear, anger. She gasps a little as she experiences the moment sheÒs been dreading for days now. And then she feels the rush of a sob coming so fast and hard she canÒt stop it.
        ÓFuuuck,Ô she gasps. She buries her head in her arms on her desk and fights it for as long as she can.
        She doesnÒt want to cry anymore. Not here, especially not now. Not in front of everybody. Because
        KendallÒs supposed to be strong. SheÒs tough. SheÒs grown up with boys surrounding her. She played and got hurt with them on the playground, and she didnÒt cry then. She broke her nose playing dodgeball in seventh grade when Eli Greenwood winged one at her face from six feet away, and she didnÒt cry thennot for real, just the stinging tears that happen automatically when your nose gets hit. And she even broke her arm when she jumped off the bag swing at its highest point, at the river with Nico where he liked to fish with his dad. Totally missed the water, landed on the bank. It was a drought summer that year.
        She didnÒt cry then, either, but Nico carried her home, the bone just barely piercing through the skin of her forearm, and even though she said she didnÒt want him to carry her, she really was a little bit too faint over seeing her own bone to fight it too hard.
        That was the first day he kissed her.
        And now here she is, bawling in front of all the boys she grew up with.
        Almost all, that is. The most important one is missing.
        That makes her cry harder.
        After a minute she feels a hand squeezing her shoulder. Hears a voice by her ear. ÓItÒs okay, Kendall.Ô
        ItÒs Eli GreenwoodÒs voice. Kendall takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries again to contain her sorrow. She lifts her head. Eli is crying too.
        She rummages for a tissue in her backpack. ÓSorry, guys,Ô she says. ÓStupid me. God.Ô She feels embarrassed. ÓWhereÒs a tissue when you need it, huhØÔ She knows her nose must be bright red. She sniffs hard.
        ÓDude, itÒs cool,Ô Travis says from behind her. Even Brandon isnÒt saying anything. She glances at him, and he looks miserable.
        TheyÒve all been affected. For the seniors this hit feels so much more personal than Tiffany Quinn.
        Kendall thinks maybe she knows a little better how TiffanyÒs closest friends must have felt. She looks over to the sophomore section and catches the eye of TiffanyÒs best friend, Jocelyn. The girl gives Kendall a sympathetic smile, and Kendall smiles gratefully in return.
        Jacian, quiet all this time, but watching, points a finger toward the front of the classroom, where Ms.
        Hinkler stands, trying to get the studentsÒ attention. ÓYou still need a tissueØÔ he asks gruffly. ÓIÒll get you one.Ô
        ÓNo, IÒm okay,Ô Kendall says. ÓThanks.Ô
        Jacian nods as Eli goes back to his seat. Everyone settles in to try to concentrate.
        For most of them the only way to get through it is by moving on.

        THIRTEEN
        Somehow she makes it through to lunch, when she gets a chance to straighten the curtain and the desks. She canÒt stand to go outside to eat lunch in their spot. She can hardly stand to look at NicoÒs desk. ItÒs so empty. So cold.
        By afternoon she can no longer concentrate at all, and even Ms. Hinkler is giving her a free pass indefinitely to lay her head down and just try to get through it.
        When school is over, thereÒs nothing Kendall wants more than to play some soccer. Get the whirlwind out of her head. Work out the grief and the anxiety. Think about something else for a change.
        She suits up in the locker room, alone again without Marlena, and makes a little wish that Coach has found more players to join the team before they miss another game. Tomorrow is the next one scheduled in Bozeman. She runs out to the field and starts warming up. Counting to thirty for every stretch, counting her steps as she jogs in place. Slowly the others join her. She counts them, just to make sure.
        Four seniors. One freshman. Only one sophomore now. Six.
        Coach is late, and the team falls into a three-on-three scrimmage naturally, anxiously. Kendall feels naked without Nico there. They had so many plays together. So much nonverbal communication. Years of it. ThereÒs no quick fix when youÒre missing that.
        Jacian is also looking a little bit lost for plays without Marlena. The two end up on the same team with
        Brandon, and they fail miserably, like itÒs their first game ever.
        They scrimmage for twenty painful minutes before Coach shows up. When he strides onto the field, everybody comes to a standstill. He waves them all in.
        ÓGuys,Ô he says. Kendall notices the wrinkles by his eyes for the first time. He looks tired. He waits for everybody to quiet, glancing at his clipboard, fingering the whistle around his neck.
        ÓHey, guys, gather up. ItÒs good to see you again.Ô He gives a grim smile. ÓWish it were under better circumstances. WeÒve lost two of our best at the moment. Update, JacianØÔ
        ÓShe had a rough night, but sheÒs tough.Ô JacianÒs dark skin gleams with sweat in the afternoon sun.
        ÓDoc says she wonÒt play this season at all, though.Ô He looks down. ÓSorry, guys. She feels bad.Ô
        Kendall looks at the grass.
        ÓAnd youÒve all figured out by now that weÒre down to six. Last year we played with nine and it was tough. This year with eight would have been already approaching impossible. ItÒs different with one game, but game after game for a whole season. .Ô Coach pauses. He shakes his head as if he doesnÒt want to say what he has to say next.
        ÓI made a dozen phone calls last night, people. And I donÒt have a single possibility for new players. Not one. Not even one who hedged or wavered on a maybe. WeÒve squeezed a third of our high school for our soccer sports program. ThatÒs a ton more, percentage wise, than most other schools nationwide.
        WeÒre maxed out.Ô He pauses. Sighs. ÓWeÒre done, guys. IÒm sorry. This is the end of the road for us.Ô
        The whole team stares at the ground, nobody daring to look up.
        ÓTo you seniors who played your last high school game as juniors,Ô Coach says, ÓIÒm especially sorry.
        This isnÒt the way to end a career.Ô
        He glances at Jacian and around the group. ÓSome of you have a lot of talent and have a chance of playing on a college team. I hope you give it a shot. Keep practicing on your own. DonÒt give up.Ô
        Coach pulls his baseball cap from his head, smoothes his cropped hair back, and replaces the cap.
        ÓThatÒs it. IÒm sorry. We did the best we could. IÒll be on the grounds for a bit if anybody wants to talk further.Ô He stands for a minute, almost unsure, and then he turns and walks back toward the school building.
        The team stands in silent shock, realizing the seasonÒs over, watching their coach walk away for the last time. For some of them their soccer career is over. ItÒs hard to swallow that.
        A moment later Jacian walks away, not following the coach but going toward the locker room. Kendall watches as he enters, and then exits again with his backpack and his school clothes rolled up under his arm. He walks to the truck.
        ÓWait,Ô Kendall says under her breath. HeÒs her only ride if she doesnÒt want to get arrested. What a crazy messed-up world.
        She runs to the girlsÒ locker room and grabs her things. Says a little word of good-bye. This is it for her.
        So many good things ending.
        She jogs back out, and when she sees that Jacian is still sitting in the truck waiting for her, she slows to a walk. Gets into the truck. They both sit there. JacianÒs face is full of rage, but he doesnÒt speak.
        ÓCan you take me to your house, pleaseØÔ she says in a dull voice. ÓI told your grandfather IÒd come by today to see Marlena.Ô
        Jacian doesnÒt acknowledge her. A minute later he starts up the truck and peels out of the dirt lot onto the road, going way too fast. The truck fishtails on the loose gravel. Kendall closes her eyes and grips the doorÒs armrest. They hit rocket speed before he bottoms out in a few potholes and eases off the gas.
        Out of the blue he slams his fist onto the steering wheel. ÓFuck!Ô he yells at the top of his voice.
        Kendall startles and slides closer to her door once again.
        He slows the truck as he pulls into the ranchÒs driveway, and takes a deep breath.
        She glances at him. His face is even now. He drives carefully, deliberately.
        ÓIÒd appreciate it if you didnÒt mention that,Ô he says darkly. ÓThe parentals donÒt really give a shit that theyÒve wrecked my life.Ô
        Kendall regards him. ÓYou know, maybe you should get some help with that. Anger management is a good idea,Ô she says.
        He laughs bitterly. ÓYou thinkØ Now, where would I go for thatØ The general store, or maybe the Feed and SeedØÔ
        Kendall ignores him. Looks out her window as HectorÒs house comes into view. Says quietly, ÓWhy do you have to be such a jerkØÔ
        He pulls the truck into the big barn and doesnÒt reply. He goes immediately to the corner of the barn and grabs a mesh net full of soccer balls. Heads out to the makeshift soccer field, not looking back.
        Kendall goes to the house and knocks on the door.
        Hector opens it wide. ÓHello, Miss Kendall! How nice of you to come by again.Ô


        Kendall smiles. ÓNice of you to invite me,Ô she says.
        ÓI am happy to say that Marlena is taking a nap right now. She needs it. But I think you should feel comfortable out here playing soccer, noØÔ
        Kendall looks at him, standing there with his innocent smile. She slumps her shoulders and drops her backpack to the porch. ÓSeriously, HectorØÔ Her voice is strained.
        ÓYou should call your mother first to let her know you are here, of course.Ô He steps into the kitchen and returns a moment later with the phone.
        Kendall sighs. ÓMaybe she should just come and pick me up.Ô
        ÓOh, please, no! Marlena has been looking forward to your visit all day. She thought you might be coming later, after soccer practice.Ô
        ÓYeah, well, there is no soccer practice anymore.Ô
        HectorÒs face falls. ÓAh, IÒm sorry to hear that. It is a shame for you and for Jacian. Marlena feels responsible.Ô
        ÓItÒs not her fault,Ô Kendall says automatically. She dials her house and leaves a message saying sheÒs at HectorÒs. Indefinitely. ÓYou can pick me up anytime if you need me,Ô she says. ÓSee you soon.Ô Trying not to sound desperate.
        Hector takes the phone from her and shoos her in the direction of the yard, where Jacian is warming up all over again. ÓI am going into town to sit with my friend for a bit,Ô he calls out. ÓJust let yourself in later.Ô
        Kendall sighs and goes down the porch steps. ÓOkay,Ô she says, not wanting to be here. Wishing she could just go hang out with Nico and have everything be okay again.
        She walks toward Jacian, waiting for him to reject her. Just what she needs today. Some pompous jerk to tell her to go away. Stupid Hector. He needs to back off.
        Jacian sees her coming and doesnÒt stop stretching. Kendall walks up to him and stands there, awkwardly.
        ÓYesØÔ he asks finally.
        ÓMarlenaÒs taking a nap. HectorÒs going to town.Ô
        Jacian squints up at her. ÓWhat are you, the butlerØÔ
        Kendall rolls her eyes. ÓMind if I playØ While I wait for Marlena, I meanØÔ
        He lifts himself up to his feet and messes with the net bag, opening the cinch and letting the balls loose.
        ÓItÒs a big yard.Ô He passes one to her and then dribbles another one up and down the stretch of grass, warming up.
        Kendall pulls a ponytail holder from her pocket and whips her hair back into it. She moves out of
        JacianÒs way and warms up too, as if they are at soccer practice. They work individually.
        ItÒs not long before KendallÒs in the zone. The constant whirring of her thoughts quiets, softens. She counts her steps to one hundred, and then she can stop and really concentrate on the ball. She loves the way it moves over the grass, like a hand on bare skin, seeking out all the nuances. She feels her muscles praise her for the stretch, feels the sweat break out on her forehead. Feels her breath paint a path in front of her.
        There is nothing else like it in her world. Nothing else like the bliss of her brain shutting down after seven days of constant whirring. Incredible relief.
        She ignores Jacian completely, keeping her distance, and then slowly she begins running some of the plays she used to do with Nico, passing instead to herself, running like hell to catch up and slamming the ball into the net. Retrieving it again and taking it all the way down the side yard, then back and forth, like sheÒs running suicides with the ball. Then back again for another play with invisible Nico.
        ItÒs funny how the presence of a memory is a comfort here on the field.
        By the time Kendall has worked out all her stress, an hour has passed. She and Jacian successfully avoid each other, though once when his ball gets away from him, Kendall plants it back at his feet, and he acknowledges her with a wave.
        Hector would be so proud.
        When Kendall is dying of thirst, she calls it quits, hoping Marlena is awake. JacianÒs shirt is stuck to his body. Sweat drips off his hair, curled in dark spikes. HeÒs breathing hard as she walks past. She drops her ball by the mesh ball bag. ÓThanks,Ô she says.
        ÓAll right.Ô He almost smiles.
        Impulsively she adds, ÓYou need any waterØ IÒm headed in.Ô
        ÓNo, IÒve got a bottle in my gym bag.Ô
        So civil.
        Marlena is awake. Kendall grabs a paper towel, wets it, and wipes her face and the back of her neck with it. She pours a glass of water and walks over to the family room, where Marlena rests in her same spot on the sofa. ÓSorry I smell like a skank. How are you todayØÔ
        ÓPretty sore.Ô
        ÓAre you able to move around yetØÔ
        ÓNot without embarrassing or killing myself. IÒm working on it.Ô
        ÓSo, home for a few more days, probablyØÔ
        ÓYeah. Total suck. IÒm bored as hell.Ô Marlena turns gingerly. ÓSo. . I saw you outside. YouÒre here early. What did Coach sayØÔ
        Kendall takes a long drink of water and then wipes at a drip from her lips. ÓWeÒre done. ItÒs over,Ô she says. Shrugs. ÓHe called around but couldnÒt get anybody to help us. Said we actually did pretty well, with a third of our high school on the team. I guess if you look at it that way, it does seem pretty crazy to think weÒd find anybody else.Ô
        Marlena drops her head back onto her pillow. ÓUgh. Crap. JacianÒs going to murder me.Ô
        Kendall is quiet.
        ÓCoach was trying to get a scout to show up to one of our games, trying to get him into one of the big soccer schools. He was deciding between UCLA and Stanford. Now IÒve messed up his chances at a scholarship.Ô Her voice quivers. ÓDid he seem madØ
        Kendall remembers the scene in the truck and presses her lips together. ÓNot more than usual,Ô she says lightly.
        ÓOh, God. I feel so bad.Ô Marlena starts crying.
        ÓAw, shit,Ô Kendall says, going over to her, sitting on the floor. ÓCome on, Marlena, itÒs not your fault.
        NicoÒs gone too. WeÒve never lost two players at a time, and we were already down one from last year.
        ItÒs not just you.Ô
        Jacian comes into the house and heads straight down a hallway, still wearing his cleats. Kendall hears a door shut and then the sound of water rushing through pipes on the other side of the wall as he turns on the shower. Her mind wanders for a minute and she shakes her head, embarrassed.
        Marlena stares off out the window, a forlorn look on her face. Kendall laces and unlaces her fingers, holding each position to the count of six. When the phone rings, she stretches to reach it from the coffee table and hands it to Marlena.
        ÓHelloØÔ
        Marlena listens for a second and then says, ÓHe just came in; heÒs in the shower. Have him call you backØÔ She pauses again and says, ÓOkay. Bye.Ô
        Kendall looks at Marlena, mildly curious.
        ÓHis girlfriend,Ô she says. ÓBack in Arizona.Ô
        ÓAh.Ô Kendall picks up a magazine and pages through it idly. How Jacian managed to get a girlfriend is beyond her comprehension. ÓIs he always so orneryØÔ
        ÓNah. He just hates it here.Ô
        ÓSo he tries to make everybody elseÒs life miserable tooØÔ
        Marlena sighs. ÓI guess. But seriously, since we moved here, nothing has gone right for him. Back in
        Arizona he had a weekend job at an indoor soccer arena, which he loved. He had a summer job at a soccer camp in the mountains that he had to give up because my parents made him work here on the ranch. He had his girlfriend, and a huge class AA school with a terrific soccer team.
        ÓWe finished school there and moved here, and within a week Sheriff Greenwood and the state police were knocking at the door and insinuating all sorts of crappy things. And then Grandpa put Jacian to work chasing down cattle and delivering meat. We didnÒt have a clue what weÒd be doing here.Ô She shifts, trying to get more comfortable. ÓHe was pretty happy about the soccer team once he saw you all play, Ñcause most of you are not bad, and it was so cool that Coach was doing so much to get a scout to come out to Bozeman for a game. But now thatÒs over too.Ô She sets the phone on the coffee table again. ÓAnd heÒs fighting with his girlfriend.Ô
        ÓHeÒs fighting with everyone,Ô Kendall says. The water shuts off.
        Marlena shrugs. ÓHeÒs really not a bad guy. HeÒs actually got a very sweet side.Ô
        ÓWell, what about youØÔ Kendall asks. ÓWhat did you leave behindØ Do you hate it here tooØÔ Kendall feels a bit of protectiveness bubble up. She knows very well that CryerÒs Cross is an odd kind of town and that things move a little slower out here than they do in big cities. She knows that riding your horse into town is unheard of in the rest of the country, but here it happens now and then with one of the old-timers.
        Marlena smiles. ÓMeØ Oh, I love it out here. ItÒs so pretty with all the mountains, and the air is so clean, and you can see the stars. IÒm glad we got to move here. Living in the hot, dirty city × it just wasnÒt my gig.Ô
        ÓWell, thatÒs cool. Do you think your parents will stay out hereØ Like, for a year, or indefinitelyØÔ Kendall hears a door open, and a moment later another door closes.
        ÓI think weÒre here forever, as long as my grandfather is. ItÒs kind of tradition with our culture, you knowØ
        ItÒs very important to my mom that we take care of Grandpa now that he needs help.

        ÓThatÒs cool. I like that.Ô Kendall hugs her knees and rests her chin on them. She likes Marlena. ItÒs actually not bad having a girl to hang out with now and then.
        KendallÒs mother calls. ÓThe car has a dead battery, and DadÒs out in the back forty with the truck. HeÒll be out till late. Can you ask Hector to run you homeØÔ
        ÓSure. HeÒs not actually here right now.Ô
        ÓWell, maybe MarlenaÒs parents or Jacian can do it, thenØ IÒm kind of stuck here. If they canÒt, call me back and IÒll walk over and we can walk home together. But the help are working extra hours for the next few weeks, and IÒd like to offer them something to eat.Ô
        ÓItÒs cool, Mom. IÒm sure I can get a ride. See you in a bit.Ô
        Kendall hangs up the phone. ÓSo, uh,Ô she says, Óany chance your parents are coming home soonØ My momÒs car has a dead battery.Ô
        ÓNot until dark.Ô Marlena turns her head and calls, ÓJacian!Ô
        ÓNo, thatÒs okay,Ô Kendall says. ÓI can wait for Hector.Ô
        ÓJacian!Ô she yells again, and then she says something in Spanish.
        A moment later he comes down the hallway. ÓIÒm going to tell Grandfather you said that,Ô he says.
        ÓWhat do you wantØÔ
        ÓKendallÒs motherÒs car has a dead battery so Kendall needs a ride home. And you also need to cook dinner for me, Mama said. IÒm starving for a Whopper and fries or something. When are they going to get a fast-food place around here, huhØÔ
        Kendall glances away. ÓSorry, Jacian.Ô
        HeÒs silent for a moment and she doesnÒt want to see the look on his face. ÓOkay,Ô he says. ÓYou ready to goØÔ
        ÓYeah.Ô She is painfully conscious of her smelly sweat-damp clothes. She grabs her backpack and soccer bag and leans down for a quick hug. ÓBye, Marlena. Hope you feel better tomorrow.Ô
        ÓAre you coming againØÔ Marlena asks, hopeful.
        ÓIÖI donÒt know. Maybe.Ô
        ÓI hope you can. Come tomorrow.Ô
        Jacian strides to the door and heads out to the barn. Kendall follows and gets in the truck as he starts it up.
        ÓYou reek,Ô he says, wrinkling his nose.


        ÓThanks,Ô Kendall says.
        They travel in silence, Jacian taking much more care with the truck on this ride compared to the previous one.
        Kendall thinks ahead to tomorrowÒs drive, and her anxiety kicks in. ÓCan you pick me up a few minutes earlier tomorrowØÔ
        ÓWhyØÔ
        ÓI just. . I just like to get to school a bit earlier.Ô
        ÓI like to get to school when itÒs time for school to start.Ô
        Kendall feels the stress building. Her mind starts whirring again, worrying about not getting the room set up the way it needs to be. Worrying about wanting to deal with seeing NicoÒs empty desk before the whole class gets there. She bites her lip and looks out the window. ÓFine,Ô she says. SheÒs going to have to handle it.
        He glances at her, brow furrowed, and then turns his eyes back to the road. A moment later heÒs pulling into the driveway. He drives up to the apron and stops next to Mrs. FletcherÒs car. Puts the truck in park, rolls down the windows, turns off the ignition, and pops the hood.
        Kendall looks at him. ÓWhat are you doingØÔ
        ÓCan you get your motherÒs car keys, pleaseØÔ
        ÓShe leaves them under the floor mat.Ô
        Jacian stops and stares at Kendall. Shakes his head a little. ÓI will never get used to this small-town crazy shit,Ô he mutters. ÓIt would have been stolen within ten minutes where weÒre from.Ô
        Kendall shrugs. ÓNot here.Ô
        ÓI suppose you donÒt lock your doors at night, either.Ô
        KendallÒs eyes widen. ÓWhat do you mean by thatØ And yes, we do lock them. All of them. So donÒt bother testing it.Ô
        Jacian gives her a quizzical look. ÓI didnÒt mean anything by it.Ô He gets out and pulls jumper cables from the big toolbox in the truck bed. ÓSheesh, not you, too.Ô His voice is bitter.
        ÓNo, I didnÒt mean×Ô
        ÓYes, you did.Ô Roughly he pops the hood to the car and attaches the clips to the dead battery. Then he hands the other two to Kendall. ÓDonÒt let them touch,Ô he says.
        ÓI know that. IÒm not stupid.Ô Kendall clips the black and red pincers to the proper spots on the truck battery. ÓYou want me to start up the truckØÔ
        ÓYeah.Ô Jacian gets into Mrs. FletcherÒs car.
        Kendall starts it up, and when itÒs running strong, Jacian tries starting the car. It turns over on the second try.
        He smiles to himself, satisfied. And then he gets out and retrieves the cables, disconnecting them in reverse order. ÓOkay, youÒre set. Let it run for a few.Ô He winds up the cables and puts them back into the toolbox. ÓTake it for a drive, even.Ô
        ÓI canÒt. RememberØÔ
        ÓRight,Ô he says. ÓForgot already. Must be a big pain in the ass.Ô
        Kendall gets out of the truck, leaving it running. ÓYeah. Pretty much,Ô she says and pauses. ÓThanks for the ride, and for jumping my momÒs car. SheÒll really appreciate that. IÒll. . see you in the morning, then.Ô
        He slides into the seat and closes the door. Leans his elbow out the window. ÓBring your soccer gear if you want. If youÒre coming over after.Ô He puts the truck in gear.
        Kendall feels her face get warm. ÓMaybe,Ô she says lightly. ÓAnd hey,Ô she remembers out loud, Óyour girlfriend called while you were in the shower. Marlena forgot to tell you.Ô
        JacianÒs face doesnÒt change. ÓOh. All right,Ô he says. ÓThanks.Ô He pulls his arm inside and backs up, turning around. Drives off without another word.

        WE
        Achingly close. We sense the warmth but We canÒt reach it. Want. Need! Thirty-five, one hundred.
        Thirty-five, one hundred. We cry out to be touched, fear gripping Our scratchy voices. Fifty cold years in the darkness, boiling in regret. Come closer! We want you, more than We wanted the last.
        Torturously.
        Please.
        Save me.

        FOURTEEN
        HeÒs early.
        KendallÒs ready, sitting by the picture window, thinking about Nico, and her heart almost breaks, wishing he were here. Wishing she could talk to him. When she sees the cloud of dust at the end of the driveway, she thinks itÒs him, before reality bashes her in the head yet again.
        By the time JacianÒs truck reaches the house, sheÒs already kissed her mother good-bye and is waiting. She hops into the truck. Wants to thank him for coming early, but feels suddenly embarrassed about bringing it up again. She wonders, briefly, why she allows herself to get flustered by him. HeÒs just so. . unreadable.
        At school she passes old Mr. Greenwood on his way out, and she rushes to take care of as many things as possible before Jacian catches up to her. She gets the wastebasket, markers, window locks, and drapes aligned before she hears his footsteps. Then she straightens the desks one by one. Feeling relief as she passes her fingers over each one, reading the graffiti like itÒs comfort food for her brain. Not even caring that heÒs staring at her.
        When she gets to the senior section, Jacian is already sitting at his desk, reading. His desk is slightly crooked. Not enough for the average person to notice, but for Kendall itÒs like a musical note that is slightly off pitch, playing constantly. She itches to ask him to move but knows how weird that would be.
        She knows people without OCD have a really hard time understanding it. And sheÒs okay with that. Still.
        SheÒll wait until he gets up. She finishes the desks around her × EliÒs, TravisÒs, BrandonÒs, and she canÒt bear to look at NicoÒs quite yet. She glances at JacianÒs desk, and sheÒs bothered beyond ordinary by it today. But people are starting to stream into the room.
        Without a word, and still reading his book, he stands and steps out of the way. ÓGo on, then,Ô he says.
        She gives him a look of surprise, but he doesnÒt notice. Hesitates and pinches her lips together, debating. Then she swiftly adjusts his desk so itÒs perfectly aligned. Slides into her own desk chair and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Almost done. ÓThank you,Ô she says.
        His mouth twitches, but he keeps reading.
        She turns to NicoÒs desk, more prepared today for him to not be there. It still feels awful. She moves the desk slightly, lovingly, to line it up with hers. Runs her fingers across it, tentatively. Lifts the lid and looks inside, but thereÒs nothing in there anymore, so she closes it again. ItÒs so cold and stark. Empty.
        She reads the graffiti, but it all means something different this time with him gone. ItÒs NicoÒs desk, but thereÒs something unusual, something niggling at the back of her mind that she canÒt quite figure out.
        And then she realizes what it is. A new phrase etched into the top of the desk, but it doesnÒt look new. It looks ten or twenty or fifty years old, like all the other graffiti. Kendall leans to the right to get a closer look.
        Definitely not a fresh one. If Nico had done it, it wouldnÒt look so smooth.
        Ms. Hinkler begins class by passing out papers. Kendall glances around to make sure sheÒs not acting too weird, and then she leans over again. ItÒs near the center of his desk, and it says, without a doubt:
        Please.
        Save me.
        How strange that she hasnÒt noticed it before. How could she have missed itØ
        All day, she doesnÒt hear a thing that Ms. Hinkler is saying. She canÒt concentrate, wondering about the desk, the graffiti. She studies it, focuses all her attention on it. Remembers that this desk isnÒt one of the desks that has been in this classroom forever. It is just as old as all the others, but it had been kept in storage until it was needed. Old Mr. Greenwood brought it upstairs last spring when another one broke.
        She knows who used to have this desk. Tiffany Quinn.
        And then, after the schoolroom had a cleaning over the summer, the desk ended up as NicoÒs.
        Kendall draws in a sharp breath, loud enough to make Jacian look over. He raises his eyebrows in a silent question.
        Kendall looks at him for a moment, and then smiles shakily and waves him off. ÓNothing,Ô she says.
        And really, when she thinks about it rationally, it truly is nothing. Nothing more than a strange coincidence.
        At lunch she stays inside and studies the desk, wanting to be sure, but sheÒs not entirely certain what she wants to be sure of. Finally she takes out a piece of notebook paper. Writes down the things sheÒs sure of, and what sheÒs almost sure of. In the Ósure ofÔ column:
        Õ Tiffany Quinn and Nico Cruz each were using this desk when they disappeared
        Õ The desk in question has new graffiti on it that looks old
        She erases the second point and puts it in the Óalmost sureÔ category.
        Then she erases the first point, accidentally ripping the paper with her eraser in her haste, and puts that in the Óalmost sureÔ category too. Because now sheÒs not entirely sure about anything.
        All afternoon her brain buzzes with thoughts she canÒt control. She wants to yell, wants to make them stop. But they whip around in an endless loop. After a while she just puts her head down on her desk and gives up.
        ÓKendall.Ô
        ÓYeahØÔ
        ÓTime to go.Ô
        Kendall sits up slowly, wearily. She has no idea what Ms. Hinkler has talked about all day. DoesnÒt care, either. Her body feels like itÒs filled with lead. She sits for a minute, realizing everybody is already gone except for Jacian. She slips out of her seat and grabs her backpack and bag.
        ÓAre you okayØÔ
        Kendall nods. ÓI think a lot of junk just caught up with me.Ô She glances over her shoulder at NicoÒs desk as they walk to the door. ÓIÒm starting to imagine things.

        Jacian pushes open the door and holds it for Kendall to walk through. He doesnÒt say anything.
        ÓHow did you knowØÔ she asks.
        ÓKnow whatØÔ
        ÓKnow to stand up this morning so I could straighten your desk.Ô
        ÓOh, that.Ô Jacian gets into the truck. ÓIt was pretty obvious just by watching you.Ô


        ÓOh.Ô
        ÓAnd Marlena told me.Ô
        ÓTold you whatØÔ KendallÒs starting to feel paranoid.
        ÓThat you told her you have OCD.Ô
        ÓOh.Ô Kendall canÒt think of anything else to say. SheÒs a little bit mad that Marlena squawked about it, but thinking back, Kendall hadnÒt said not to.
        Jacian gets into the truck. ÓHave you always had a problem with itØÔ
        Kendall eyes him suspiciously. ÓWhyØÔ
        He starts it up as Kendall gets in on the passenger side. ÓJust making conversation. Sheesh. You really are a little paranoid, arenÒt youØ Is that part of the OCD, or is it just naturalØÔ
        ÓThere you go, being jerkish again. Is that just natural for youØÔ She turns her face toward her window so he doesnÒt see her grin. SheÒs glad heÒs being normal about it.
        He sighs and pulls out of the school parking area. ÓYouÒre coming home with me, rightØÔ
        ÓYeah.Ô
        ÓLook. I know about OCD. I was a junior counselor at a soccer camp for two summers before we came here. I had a lot of campers with secrets. YouÒre not the only one in the world with it, you know.Ô
        Kendall humphs. ÓFeels like it sometimes.Ô
        ÓAw, poor you.Ô
        ÓShut up.Ô
        He shrugs.
        They get to HectorÒs, pull into the barn, and get out of the truck. Jacian picks up the soccer balls. ÓYou bring your clothesØÔ
        Kendall debates. She has them, but she doesnÒt like where the previous conversation went. Still, she feels like a slug, and her brain desperately needs a break. ÓYeah.Ô
        They walk up the porch steps and go inside. ÓThereÒs a bathroom upstairs you can use,Ô he says. ÓOr just use MarlenaÒs room. SheÒs not using it until she can actually get up there.Ô
        Kendall sees Marlena with her eyes closed, lying on the sofa. Walks softly upstairs and changes, then tiptoes back outside so she doesnÒt wake her friend. Jacian follows a minute later. They stretch in silence. Kendall feels the pull in her back, her thighs, and scolds herself for not dancing at all lately. But when your best friend since birth disappears, I guess maybe sometimes you forget to dance. She eases down into the splits and leans over her right knee.
        ÓDoes the workout helpØÔ
        Kendall is distracted from her thoughts. ÓHelp whatØÔ
        ÓYour OCD.Ô
        ÓYes.Ô


        ÓThatÒs what I thought. The kids I worked with × they were always so much. . I donÒt know. HappierØ
        Calmer, maybe, after playing hard all day.Ô
        Kendall is taken aback by his attempt at conversation. SheÒs skeptical, unable to figure out why heÒs suddenly willing to talk, but sheÒs too tired to question it. ÓIt definitely helps me. During, mostly, but a little bit after, too.Ô Kendall shifts and bows over her other knee. ÓWish I could play all year.Ô
        ÓWhy canÒt youØÔ
        Kendall looks at him. ÓUh. . because of the snowØÔ
        ÓOh. Forgot about that.Ô
        ÓYeah.Ô
        ÓSo what do you do when it snowsØÔ
        She gets an unexpected lump in her throat, thinking about ice fishing with Nico, snowshoeing with Nico, skiing in the mountains with Nico. And dancing. Not with Nico. ÓDance,Ô she says. ÓTheatre. Only once so far, but I want to do it again someday.Ô She gets to her feet and grabs a soccer ball, kicking it wide and chasing after it, ending the conversation before it gets dangerous. SheÒs tired of crying.
        They work on their own for a while. ItÒs a lot more comfortable today than it was yesterday, and eventually they fall into a scrimmage. JacianÒs bigger, stronger, and can run a little faster, but Kendall is a tiny bit quicker changing direction on a dime. If she can get past him, sheÒs got it made.
        Problem is getting past him.
        Jacian plays rough, just this side of dirty. He always has, and he doesnÒt go easy on girls × not on
        Marlena or on Kendall. ItÒs something Kendall noticed the first day, and she actually really appreciates that. She always tries to take him down too. CanÒt let him get too cocky. And while she plays, he is the enemy. Kendall focuses all her brainpower on the win.
        She doesnÒt even notice when Marlena hobbles out the door with Hector and they sit on the porch, watching as Kendall goes in for the kill shot. She races Jacian to the ball, every muscle in her body screaming, stretched to its limit. He steps in, and she slams into him. Her body flies and she lands on her back, hard. It knocks the wind out of her and she lies there, stunned for a moment, before she starts fighting for air. ItÒs the worst feeling in the world, trying to breathe but not being able to. At least Jacian went down too.
        She rolls onto her side, and they lie on the grass, heaving.
        When Kendall can speak, she says, ÓYou suck.Ô
        Jacian grins at the sky.
        Later, Kendall joins Hector and Marlena on the porch. She sits on the steps and guzzles a giant glass of water, listening to Hector and Marlena talk.
        ÓArenÒt you going into town today to visit with old Mr. GreenwoodØÔ Marlena asks.
        ÓNot today. I have some paperwork to take care of.Ô
        ÓWhat will he think if you donÒt show upØÔ
        ÓAh, heÒll be fine. ItÒs not the first time. Sometimes he doesnÒt show up either. We are good friends for a long time and understand each other.Ô
        Kendall turns. ÓI think itÒs cute that you sit together and never talk to each other, like an old married couple.Ô
        ÓHa! We talk sometimes. I didnÒt know the whole town was worried about us.Ô He grins.
        ÓI donÒt think IÒve ever heard old Mr. Greenwood say more than a few words at school, like if heÒs yelling at us to clean up or whatever,Ô Kendall says. ÓHeÒs kind of cranky. How long have you known himØ Has he always been that wayØÔ
        Hector shakes his head. ÓItÒs been a long time. Since we were about like you two. . maybe a few years younger, each.Ô He gets a strange look in his eyes.
        Marlena leans in. ÓDid you meet hereØ Did you always live here, GrandpaØÔ
        ÓWe met here in Montana, yes.Ô He turns to explain to Kendall, ÓI was born in Texas, and my parents only spoke Spanish, so I didnÒt learn English until I went to school. They were good field-workers, and we migrated here one spring to work when I was fourteen. I was. .Ô He pauses. ÓI was not a good boy. I had a lot of troubles with other kids.Ô
        ÓBecause. .ØÔ Marlena demands.
        ÓBecause. . Well, partly because I am Mexican. Here in Montana there were Native Americans and
        Caucasians. Not so many Mexicans.Ô
        ÓSo what happenedØÔ Kendall turns around on the steps so she can watch his face.
        ÓI got into fights. And my parents couldnÒt have me doing that. They worked very hard for long hours, and I was bad. So they found me a new place to live.Ô
        MarlenaÒs mouth drops open. ÓYou mean, like, with another familyØ With the GreenwoodsØ Is that how you became friendsØÔ
        ÓNo, no. . nothing like that.Ô Hector glances at his watch. ÓMy goodness, I have to go. I have to get some invoices together pronto for Jacian. He has deliveries tonight. Miss Kendall, do you need a ride homeØÔ He slowly eases out of his chair.
        ÓMy motherÒs going to pick me up at six, if thatÒs okay.Ô
        ÓArenÒt you all busy harvesting those delicious potatoesØ Seems like the right time.Ô
        ÓYeah,Ô Kendall says guiltily. ÓThey let me off the hook because of Nico. They think itÒs good IÒm spending time talking with friends. Whatever that means.Ô
        ÓIt means youÒre not all alone and brooding on a tractor or in a field,Ô Hector says.
        ÓWhatever it means, itÒs practically the first September IÒve had off from harvesting since I could walk,Ô
        Kendall says. ÓStill. . IÒd rather have Nico back.Ô
        ÓItÒs very hard to lose a friend at your age. I have been through it,Ô Hector says. He shakes his head and shuffles into the house. ÓBe careful out there, Miss Kendall. IÒd be sick if we lost you, too, or anyone.Ô
        When KendallÒs mother picks her up, she hands Kendall a letter. ÓItÒs from Juilliard,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says.
        Kendall stares at it, her stomach jumping into her throat. Takes it, not quite sure how sheÒs supposed to feel. Slips her finger under the flap and slides it across. Pulls out the folded piece of paper and opens it.


        She reads for a moment with held breath, and then skims the rest of the letter. Lets it drop into her lap.
        ÓItÒs a no.Ô Kendall gazes out the car window, focusing on the distant mountains. Mrs. Fletcher squeezes KendallÒs hand and starts driving home.
        ItÒs what they thought. What sheÒd expected. And to be honest, Kendall hasnÒt thought about it much since Nico disappeared. It doesnÒt really seem to matter anymore. Nothing does.
        Still, she wonders, why does it hurt so muchØ
        That night Kendall checks all the doors and windows six times each before she goes to bed. SheÒs exhausted, but her mind is revving up again, recalling everything that happened today. Blocking out the
        Juilliard letter as best she can. But it doesnÒt matter, because her brain keeps bringing her back to earlier in the day.
        All she can think about is one thing.
        Desks.

        WE
        Only a faltering brush of warmth today.
        Cold, so cold. We move Our cast-iron anchors, creaking, slowly inching across the floor, hours and hours of strain in search of heat and life. Now butting against a soulless We, now pushing the dead one out of Our way into the empty space. We breathe, ache, rest, strain again. We make Our move.
        Stalking the next soul to trade for one of Us.

        FIFTEEN
        When Kendall and Jacian get to school, she senses it, and a shiver goes down her spinesomethingÒs off. She moves through her rituals and straightens the desks. When she gets to the senior section, she stops.
        ÓThese desks are switched,Ô she says. ÓNicoÒs and TravisÒs. Did you switch themØÔ
        Jacian frowns. ÓYouÒve been with me the whole time. Did you see me switch themØÔ
        Kendall wrestles TravisÒs desk out of the way and moves NicoÒs desk back to where it belongs. ÓWho could have done thisØÔ She rips her fingers through her hair, distressed. ÓThis is NicoÒs desk. ItÒs staying right here next to me. Totally not funny.Ô
        ÓIt was probably the janitor moving desks to clean. So it got moved. No big deal.Ô Jacian goes back to his book. ÓIÒd ask how you even noticed itÒs not NicoÒs desk, but IÒm scared to know the answer.Ô
        ÓI know all the desks,Ô Kendall says, straightening TravisÒs. ÓI have them×Ô
        ÓNo.Ô Jacian holds up his hand. ÓWhat did I just sayØÔ
        Kendall stops abruptly as the rest of the class trickles in. She takes a closer look at the spot on NicoÒs desk that had the new/old graffiti yesterday. ItÒs still there, same as before. Looking like itÒs been there for years. She shakes her head. Must have just missed that one, or forgotten it somehow. ItÒs not like sheÒs been exactly stable the past few weeks. And maybe because it says help, she actually really noticed it in a different way this time. Almost as if Nico were crying out for it.
        But, like a good portion of KendallÒs thoughts, that one is just ridiculous.
        Halfway through the day, when sheÒs supposed to be writing a book report, she stops short and lays her pen down. It really hits her. SheÒs not going to Juilliard.
        She has no reason to ever dance again. Add to that, no reason to play soccer again. No reason to do anything without those things in her life. Without Nico. She slumps to her desk, suddenly very, very tired.
        On her notebook she doodles the word ÓLOST,Ô making the last letter dangle precipitously down the right margin.
        Jacian glances at her notebook. Frowns. But says nothing.
        Day after day after day goes by in black and white for Kendall now. She puts herself in a mind-numbing routine of school, farm, homework, sleep. She rides silently in the pickup to and from school with Jacian and Marlena, making small talk but not remembering any of it. Sitting quietly at her desk, moving automatically through the days, just getting by, and doing whatever her OCD tells her to do, no more, no less.
        There is no more visiting HectorÒs ranch once Marlena comes back to school. Marlena starts hanging out with the other tenth graders, who begin to get to know her, help her out when she needs it.
        ThereÒs no more soccer with Jacian either. KendallÒs parents need her desperately on the farm. ItÒs the height of harvest, and Kendall has work to do. Everything is one dull event after another now. She plunges her hands into freezing water, pulling leaves and bad potatoes off a belt for hours every day after school, and all she can do is think.
        The thing is, for Kendall it just doesnÒt matter. Nico is gone. Juilliard is no longer a goal. ThereÒs no future with either one of her two favorite things × both dreams shattered within a matter of days. What else is there to think aboutØ The truth is that Kendall might be tough on the outside. She can take a hit, and she can stand up for herself. But inside, in her scared heart and in her stupid, unstoppable brain, Kendall knows that she will stay in CryerÒs Cross forever. She will work on this farm until she inherits it someday. She will probably marry somebody like Eli Greenwood or Travis Shank and have children who play soccer on a too-small team until they graduate.
        Or maybe not. Maybe sheÒll shake up the town and stay single, adopt a baby or two, and just hide out at the farm.
        And wait.
        Wait for Nico to come back.

        WE
        Sapped. Our energy drained, only to be manhandled away. The rage! Oh, but the touch. . ItÒs there. ItÒs near, within reach. We must become stronger. Draw Our next victim to Us from afar.
        We simmer, day after day, hoarding what strength remains.
        And We wait.

        SIXTEEN
        By mid-October, Kendall is stuck in a loop of depressing thoughts that wonÒt leave her. Lost without a goal, lost without her best friend, lost in a thousand acres of potatoes. There is no meaning, no plan. No sense in anything. All she can do is just plod through it. Get the work done so she can get up again the next day and start over. Go to bed before eleven so the missing phone call doesnÒt hurt so much. Get to school early so she can do what she has to do, her OCD ball and chain dictating her every waking hour.
        Every night she stands by the upstairs window and looks out toward the Cruz farm. She doesnÒt know why. ItÒs just. . for memoryÒs sake. And every night it is a dark and lonely view. ÓIÒll say IÒm your girlfriend if you just come back,Ô she says, her breath fogging up the window. ÓI promise.Ô
        Tonight she sees a vehicle go down the gravel road slowly, and she watches its brake lights flicker as it navigates potholes. When itÒs gone from view, the world is dark again except for the stars and the harvest moon that casts an orange glow over the fields. ÓI know you can see this moon too, Nico,Ô she whispers. ÓSomewhere.Ô
        Just as she turns away from the window, something moving halfway down the driveway catches her eye. She squints and makes out a figure standing there. Her heart jumps. Could it be NicoØ She stares harder. It canÒt be! In a daze she moves down the stairs, telling herself itÒs not him. Someone would have called with the news. By the time she reaches the door, sheÒs growing scared. If itÒs not Nico, then who is standing in their driveway at this hourØ
        Kendall stops short of flying through the door to gather her senses. Maybe itÒs the abductor, ready to grab her. She sucks in a breath and slowly pushes aside the curtain of the window next to the front door and she peers out, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness again.
        But thereÒs no one there. No one that she can see, anyway. Not with so many places to hide. . long grass, trees, barns, tractors to hide behind. She spins around and runs back upstairs to the window. And from there she sees a figure × a man, sheÒs sure × running away, cutting the corner of the front field.
        She flies over to her phone and dials Eli GreenwoodÒs number. Sheriff Greenwood answers. ÓHello.Ô
        ÓI just saw a man watching my house.Ô SheÒs breathless.
        ÓMrs. FletcherØÔ
        ÓNo, itÒs Kendall. There was a man standing halfway down our driveway just a couple minutes ago, and I thought it might be Nico, but then he turned and ran away when I went downstairs for a closer look.Ô
        Sheriff Greenwood is quiet. ÓIÒll head out. Can you give me any descriptionØ Do you think it really was
        NicoØÔ
        Kendall hesitates. ÓI did at first, but that was probably because I was thinking about him. If it was Nico, IÒm sure he would have come to the door. So it couldnÒt be.Ô Could itØ SheÒs so confused.
        ÓIÒll take a look. Could be somebody out for a walk. Just lock up tight, all rightØ Your parents homeØÔ
        ÓYes. TheyÒre sleeping.Ô
        ÓYou try to get some sleep too now. HearØÔ
        ÓYes, sir.Ô
        They hang up.


        Kendall rechecks all the door locks and windows and goes back upstairs to her room. She lies in bed but knows thereÒs no sleeping now. She thinks about waking her parents, but in the middle of harvest they are exhausted. Besides, what could they doØ The guy ran away.
        Her heart is in her throat and she canÒt stop getting up to check her bedroom window over and over.
        Because the way it works in her brain, if somebody breaks in, itÒll be her fault for not checking the lock enough times.
        When she finally falls into a troubled sleep, she dreams about Nico.
        Kidnapping and stabbing her to death.

        SEVENTEEN
        In the morning the ride to school is awkward and silent. After Kendall does her school rituals, Jacian pulls her aside.
        ÓCan I talk to you for a minuteØÔ He looks troubled.
        ÓSure,Ô Kendall says, without enthusiasm. SheÒs tired from lack of sleep and paranoid about the kidnapper on the loose.
        They step outside and around to the back of the school as students begin arriving.
        ÓWhatÒs so important that you canÒt say it in the classroomØÔ
        Jacian presses his lips together, and then he says, ÓLook. I donÒt know how to say this without you freaking out at me. Can I just ask you to listen until IÒm throughØÔ
        Kendall shifts and narrows her eyes. ÓWhatØ Why would I freak outØÔ
        ÓLast night. . that was me in your driveway. Sheriff Greenwood told me I could explain it myself, and heÒs going to call you this evening.Ô
        ÓWhatØ What were you doing watching meØ God!Ô
        ÓPlease. .Ô
        Kendall is quiet, but her brain is on fire with new fearful thoughts.
        ÓI was out for a walk. I couldnÒt sleep, and I had a really shitty evening, and the sky was awesome and, well, yeah. I went past your house and saw the upstairs all lit up from the road. On my way back it was darker, but I could see your silhouette in the window, just standing there. And, I donÒt know. . I just started walking down your driveway for some insane reason. I was feeling bad, and I figured you were too, and so I thought maybe youÒd want to. . I donÒt know. Talk or something. It was stupid.Ô His eyes are hard and he looks off toward the parking lot.
        Kendall stares at him.
        ÓThen I saw you disappear and I sort of came to my senses, realized how late it was, and how you canÒt stand me anyway so why the hell would you want to talk, and I got scared and took off running. I swear thatÒs the truth.Ô His jaw is set. ÓGreenwood picked me up five minutes later and questioned me for more than an hour. Then he told me he believed me and drove me home. He said he wanted me to tell you it was me. And that heÒs going to call you after school to make sure I told you. And that. .Ô He pauses. ÓAnd that you can press charges for trespassing if you want.Ô
        Kendall doesnÒt know what to say.
        Jacian shoves one hand in his pocket and rakes through his hair with the other, leaving it standing up wildly. ÓI just figured you were hurting. I mean, after the way youÒve been acting the last few weeks. And thought. . well. Fuck it. Never mind. It was a stupid thing to do.Ô He sighs. ÓIÒm sorry, Kendall. OkayØ I didnÒt mean to scare you. Hell.Ô
        Kendall looks at the dirt. Shocked. Embarrassed, a little, but angry, too. And thereÒs something sad about it all. . sad that it wasnÒt Nico out there, even after her nightmare. But still, she doesnÒt explode like she thought she would when he first started talking. She just turns away. ÓOkay.Ô She shrugs and walks back into school, leaving him standing there.


        A minute later he slides into the desk next to her and stares straight ahead.
        They donÒt talk all day.
        Kendall just stares at NicoÒs desk, thinking. Thinking about how Tiffany Quinn sat there and disappeared. And how Nico sat there and disappeared. And now itÒs all she can think about. What would happen if she sat thereØ Maybe disappearing would be better than all this. And at the very least, sitting there would be like wearing one of NicoÒs shirts. A comfort, being where he was. Maybe it could help her get over him.
        Maybe tomorrow sheÒll sit there.
        Things are tense in the truck on the way home. Unaware, Marlena chatters about how she canÒt wait until she gets her cast off, and Jacian and Kendall stare straight ahead until theyÒre all sitting in front of
        KendallÒs house.
        ÓThanks,Ô Kendall mumbles as usual. As she slams the truck door shut, she catches JacianÒs eye and sees the fear in it. He swallows hard, his AdamÒs apple bobbing, and then he glances away as Marlena says goodbye through the window in the midst of her babbling. Kendall stands there for a minute, puzzled, and then turns toward the house. ItÒs not until sheÒs outside harvesting potatoes that it dawns on her why he had such a scared look in his eyes.
        HeÒs from a big city. A place where people steal cars if you donÒt make it too difficult for them not to. He really thinks she and her family are going to press charges against him for trespassing.
        Kendall stops what sheÒs doing for a moment, and she nearly laughs out loud for the first time in weeks.
        Poor Jacian. HeÒs probably been worried sick about it all day.
        She thinks about what he said. How he thought maybe she was hurting, and tears start leaking from her eyes. She didnÒt know the guy actually had a heart underneath all that anger. But the only person she can talk to who would fix her pain is Nico.
        On their way back to the house from the fields, Kendall tells her mother what happened the night before.
        ÓYou should have woken me up,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says with a frown.
        ÓIt wasnÒt that big of a deal,Ô Kendall says, and today, during daylight, and knowing the truth, it really doesnÒt feel like a big deal. ÓAnd you guys are working so hard, I didnÒt want to wake you up. So, do you want to press charges against JacianØÔ
        ÓDonÒt be ridiculous. What would people think of usØ What a terrible thing to do to that poor boy. After all heÒs done for you, driving you around.Ô
        Kendall shrugs. But itÒs comforting to know her mother thinks heÒs not a bad guy.
        When Sheriff Greenwood calls, he tells the same story as Jacian told, in lesser detail. ÓYour parents want to press charges for trespassingØ If so, I need to talk to them,Ô he says. ÓI canÒt see you all doing it, but itÒs your right.Ô
        ÓNo, I talked with my mother. We donÒt want to do that.Ô
        ÓGood. IÒll let him know. HeÒll be happy to hear it. IÒll tell him to stay out of peopleÒs driveways at night.Ô
        ÓOkay. Thanks.Ô
        They hang up.


        Mrs. Fletcher smiles at Kendall from the kitchen, where she warms up leftover beef stew in the microwave. ÓSo, Kendall.Ô
        Kendall sighs. ÓYesØÔ
        ÓHave you been thinking about other collegesØÔ
        She flops her head in her hands. ÓIÒm too tired and starving to have this conversation. Can we talk about it some other timeØÔ
        Mrs. Fletcher stirs the stew. ÓIÒm a little worried about you.Ô
        ÓIÒm fine. IÒm just. . trying to work through it.Ô
        Mrs. Fletcher gives Kendall a long look. ÓOkay. Life will be back to normal in a couple weeks, when harvest is done. Then weÒll talk about the future.Ô
        Kendall doesnÒt respond. Back to normalØ Without Nico, life will never be normal again.

        WE
        With time, We grow strong. We savor the strength. Taste the nearness of life.
        The time will come. Soon. We strain to reach Our invisible grasp beyond the grainy surface, holding in fifty yearsÒ worth of screams.

        EIGHTEEN
        She stares at NicoÒs desk all morning, butterflies in her stomach. Afraid to sit there. Compelled to try.
        She tries to laugh off her fear. It was just a ridiculous coincidence. If she says it out loud, itÒs laughable.
        Nobody would believe that a desk has anything to do with the disappearances. ItÒs absurd.
        Still, the thought whirrs through her brain. She should sit there to prove it isnÒt the desk.
        Next to her, Jacian is pointedly not looking at her, though this morning on the way in to school he managed a gruff ÓThank youÔ for not pressing charges. But Kendall takes no notice of him. She rests her head on her desk as usual, knowing Ms. Hinkler wonÒt call on her. The teacher hasnÒt asked Kendall a direct question since Nico disappeared.
        When everyone leaves to eat lunch outside on this cool fall day, Kendall stays inside. Slowly she stands, heart pounding. She steps over to NicoÒs desk and then she slides into it. She closes her eyes and holds her breath. And then she moves her arms around the desktop to embrace it. Nico, she thinks, are you hereØ
        She rests her head on the desk and lets out her breath, then tries to relax and think about him. Think about all their good times. Lets the memories flood her brain.
        ItÒs harmless. She is still in the room, sitting in NicoÒs desk. Still here, not disappeared. After a while
        Kendall sits up and runs her fingers over the desktop. She reads each line of graffiti as she often does, but it feels different from this angle. She gets lost in the words as they swirl around in her mind, and she tries to make them sound right, like a poem would sound. A jumble of words, written over the course of fifty years by dozens of authors.
        She lands on the plea. Probably some bored student watching the clock tick away slowly, waiting for something awesome that wonÒt come until the end of the day.
        Please.
        Save me.
        She traces the letters and wonders again why she hadnÒt seen them before.
        And then she hears a whisper. Please. Save me. Like wind in leaves, so faint that Kendall is sure she made a mistake.
        Her body tingles, and she feels the back of her neck prickle. She jerks her hand away and looks around the room. ÓWhoÒs thereØÔ
        Her heart pumps at top speed. Tentatively she reaches toward the words again and slides her forefinger across them. Her whole body floods with adrenaline, like being high on some crazy drug, and she closes her eyes. In her ear the delicious whisper comes again, more urgent this time. Please, save me!
        Kendall is drawn in. The euphoric feeling is almost overwhelming, like running too far too fast, but she craves more. She leans over the words, her finger tracing the letters, and in her ears the whisper, over and over.
        When she pulls her fingers away, the buzz of the high slowly ebbs. She sits for a moment as the whispers grow too soft to hear, and then she opens her eyes and realizes why the whispers were so beautiful.
        The voice was NicoÒs.


        Immediately KendallÒs OCD kicks in. Fear grips her and she canÒt seem to get out of the desk fast enough. She nearly tips it over in her haste to get away, knocking the books from her own desk just as the lunching students return.
        ÓWhat the heck was thatØÔ she mutters under her breath, scrambling to pick up her books. Her brain is screaming at her to get away. Get away from the wonderful evil.
        She knows that whatever it was, it wasnÒt real. It canÒt be real. It must be some weird grief thing, where you hear the voice of someone who has passed and really think itÒs him. But it was just so strong. She catches her breath as Jacian comes in and sits down. Kendall slides back into her desk, heart still racing, trying to make sense of what just happened. Knowing it was all just emotion, grief. Feelings taking over, teasing her. Reminding her of how good it felt to be with Nico.
        ÓIt was never that good,Ô she mutters. Her temples pound.
        ÓWhatØÔ Jacian says.
        Kendall startles and turns to look at him. His brown eyes are flecked with yellow, and his eyebrows knit together, concerned. ÓNothing,Ô she says. ÓJust. . mumbling.

        Jacian keeps looking at her. ÓJust mumbling,Ô he says.
        ÓThatÒs what I said.Ô
        He shrugs and pulls his notebook out of his backpack. ÓLook,Ô he says, Ówhenever youÒre done with those potatoes, I could really use a soccer partner. If youÒre not still mad. I mean, you can just come home with us whenever.Ô
        KendallÒs brain is still buzzing. She edges away from NicoÒs desk, toward Jacian. ÓIÒm too tired to even think of playing.Ô
        ÓThatÒs because youÒre not playing.Ô
        ÓWhat do I have to play forØÔ
        Jacian stares at her for a long moment. Then he just shakes his head lightly and turns to face the front of the classroom.
        They sit there in silence and wait for Ms. Hinkler to start the afternoon work. For the next three hours
        Kendall canÒt stop thinking about what happened with the desk.
        And about hearing NicoÒs voice.
        By evening Kendall has reasoned away what happened. Her grief is playing tricks with her brain. Sure, her connection with Nico was strong × they were like twins in a way, the way they grew up and were always together. Of course sheÒs going to think she hears his voice now and then. ItÒs spooky, but itÒs completely natural. And totally explainable. And completely sad.
        It just makes her feel so lonely.
        She lies in bed, window checked six times, moonlight streaming in through the soft white curtains. So lonely her arms ache with no one to hold.

        WE
        Too much!
        We pull back, suck in Our hypnotic venom, but itÒs too late. The heat, the life is gone. Too strong, too desperate. And you. . unwillingØ NonmalleableØ We curse now in the dark, quiet room. Our only option is to move.
        We groan and creak, inching along, Our built-up strength leaking out with each motion.
        There is no other choice for Us.

        NINETEEN
        HeÒs alone in the morning in the pouring rain.
        ÓWhereÒs MarlenaØÔ Kendall asks, climbing into the truck.
        Jacian chews on a toothpick, his dark eyes squinting through the sheets of water as his wipers fly from side to side. He flips the gearshift into drive. ÓBozeman, getting a checkup at the doctorÒs today. TheyÒre taking the cast off.Ô
        ÓOh, thatÒs right. Cool.Ô
        ÓSheÒll still have to wear one of those boot things for a couple weeks.Ô
        ÓEw. Hideous. Serious fashion emergency.Ô
        Jacian laughs and glances at her. ÓMy parents and grandfather would like you and your family to come for dinner Sunday to celebrate. ItÒs MarlenaÒs sixteenth birthday. Can your family get awayØÔ
        ÓJust usØÔ
        ÓNo. Greenwoods too, and MarlenaÒs new sophomore friends. And maybe some others. I donÒt know.
        My grandfather is going to call your parents but I thought IÒd mention it.Ô He slows at the four-way stop in town and peers through the weather. ÓMaybe we can scrimmage with Eli and a few of the others if they come.Ô He looks at her again, and his eyes are so earnest.
        Kendall half smiles. ÓI brought my clothes today,Ô she says. She pats her backpack. ÓMom told me IÒm too mopey and sheÒs giving me the day off. I packed them up before I looked outside and saw this mess.Ô
        ÓYou didØÔ He sounds shocked. Pleased. ÓA little rain is nothing,Ô he says, a smile playing on his lips.
        He pulls into the parking lot. ÓLet me know about Sunday. Two oÒclock. Or, you know × tell Marlena, or whatever.Ô
        ÓI will.Ô
        He turns the truck off, and their collective breath steams up the windows. They sit for a minute, timing the rain, but itÒs not letting up. Kendall looks over at Jacian. ÓReadyØÔ
        He nods, and they make a mad dash for the school, splashing through the muddy parking lot to the doorway.
        ÓEver hear of concrete around hereØÔ Jacian asks, looking at his jeans in disgust. They stomp their feet and go inside the school. ÓOr tar. Tar works too. They make roads out of it, and parking lots. . Ô
        ÓShut it.Ô
        He goes into the classroom first and stops short. ÓDo you, like, need to be the first to enter the room tooØÔ
        ÓNo.Ô She eyes him suspiciously to see if heÒs mocking her, but he appears serious.
        ÓJust wondering. I knew a kid at camp who always needed to be in the front. HeÒd go around getting all upset and saying ÑIÒm the front! IÒm the front!Ò and everybody was mean to him, thinking he was just trying to be first in line all the time. They didnÒt understand.Ô
        ÓItÒs different for everybody.Ô Kendall shakes the rain out of her hair and starts on her rituals.


        A moment later Jacian says, ÓHey, KendallØÔ
        ÓYeahØÔ
        ÓIÒm not positive, but I think NicoÒs desk is switched again.Ô
        KendallÒs stomach twists. ÓSeriouslyØÔ She finishes up the curtains and walks over to Jacian. ÓYouÒre right.Ô
        She looks around to see which one itÒs switched with. ÓWhat the hell,Ô she whispers. ÓThis is so not normal.Ô She looks at Jacian. ÓI know you probably think this is dumb that IÒm all hung up over this, but this never happens. The desks only get moved out of the room for major cleaning during the summer, so theyÒre all scrambled in the fall. But they never get moved out of sequence the rest of the year. Never.Ô
        Kendall drops her backpack and wildly searches the room for NicoÒs desk. She finds it in the sophomore section and wrenches it back as Jacian moves the other one out of the way.
        Jacian touches her arm. ÓI donÒt think itÒs dumb for you to want NicoÒs desk to be there, next to you.
        Waiting for when he comes back,Ô he says.
        Kendall stops. Swallows hard. Trying to decide if she still believes heÒll come back.
        Jacian drops his hand from her arm and steps out of the way so she can pull the desk back into its proper place. He lifts up the other one and moves it fluidly to the empty spot.
        SheÒs still looking at him. He doesnÒt meet her gaze. ÓThank you,Ô she says. Stupid hot tears spring to her eyes. ÓThatÒs probably the nicest thing anybodyÒs said to me in all these weeks.Ô
        ÓWell, that sucks.Ô
        Kendall pulls it together and then narrows her eyes. ÓWhy are you being nice to meØÔ She slides into her seat and sits sideways to face him. ÓHmmØÔ
        He looks into her eyes for a long moment, and she sees something there. Loneliness, or compassion.
        . something incredibly human that she hadnÒt noticed before. ÓI just want to play some soccer,Ô he says lightly. ÓFigure itÒs time to bribe you with my charismatic personality.Ô
        ÓOh,Ô she says. Her voice is hollow, and she puzzles over how disappointed she feels that he told the truth. She should have known he wanted something.
        Students arrive in exploding bursts because of the rain. Kendall turns away, rests her head on her desk, looking at NicoÒs. She doesnÒt see Jacian slump in his seat. DoesnÒt see him close his eyes and shake his head, doesnÒt hear the curse under his breath.
        It rains off and on throughout the day. Kendall is tempted to sit at NicoÒs desk, but she doesnÒt want to do it when anybody is around. When it rains, everybody stays inside all day, eating lunch at their desks, so thereÒs no chance.
        After school the rain has stopped, and Jacian and Kendall step gingerly to the truck, taking care not to soak the interior with mud, but itÒs pointless. The air is crisp.
        Jacian starts the engine and throws an arm across the backseat, looking over his shoulder preparing to back up. His fingers brush the tips of KendallÒs hair. She moves closer to her door. ÓWhere toØÔ he asks.
        She looks at him. ÓYou too chickenshit to play in thisØÔ
        ÓNo.Ô


        ÓWell, then. LetÒs go play.Ô
        The car doesnÒt move. His mouth twitches. ÓI didnÒt mean what I said, you know. About being nice just so youÒll play. It was just a joke.Ô
        Kendall bites her lip. She can feel his eyes on her, and sheÒs not altogether sure what the churning feeling is inside her gut. Maybe itÒs just that some of her numbness is finally wearing off.
        When itÒs clear Kendall has no response, Jacian backs out of the parking area and picks his way slowly down the muddy road toward HectorÒs, looking for new potholes to avoid.
        They change inside the empty house and meet on the soaked, spongy grass. Kendall is glad she brought a thick sweatshirt, though one good fall and itÒll soak through. A little thrill goes through her at the thought of the fresh air and exercise, and itÒs always fun to play in the rain, no matter what Coach says.
        ItÒs been too long since sheÒs played, she knows that. She starts stretching.
        They warm up, jogging in place. KendallÒs hair flops all around, and sheÒs mad she forgot a ponytail holder to keep her hair out of her face. They do a few exercises, dribbling, setting each other up. Each of them taking it slow, cautious of the sodden turf. Nobody needs a groin pull, thatÒs for sure.
        As Kendall gets used to the conditions, she takes more chances. Her intensity multiplies, and soon she is in the zone × the brain-quieting zone where all of the whirring thoughts slow and stop for a while. ItÒs such a relief. Flooded with mind-dizzying endorphins, Kendall takes the ball, and Jacian, to task. She doesnÒt even notice when it starts sprinkling and then full-out raining again. All she knows is that she feels relief for the first time in weeks.
        Her depression dissipates and her mind goes somewhere else, somewhere quiet and peaceful, where nothing is there to trouble her. ItÒs like sheÒs floating as she darts around Jacian and takes the ball to the goal, leaving him breathless and staring at her.
        Again and again she gets the better of him on this slick surface. ItÒs like the more difficult things are, the more Kendall can concentrate and focus. Her brain knows only one thing now. To take the ball around the opposition, past the enemy, and put it in the net. So simple, yet so complex.
        When the enemy gets the better of her, messes with her mojo, she doesnÒt think. She charges.
        At top speed Kendall chases after Jacian. She pulls alongside him and grabs him around the waist, tackling him as the ball goes off, out of bounds. He slips and falls to a knee with a grunt and splashes in the soaking, muddy yard, grabbing KendallÒs arm as he goes down. HeÒs not going down alone.
        Kendall lands on top of him.
        ÓNo way!Ô he yells, laughing in her ear. He rolls her over so she gets covered in the dirty rainwater too.
        She pulls out of concentration mode, realizes whatÒs happening. He lies on her, mud on his face and dripping from his hair. His clothes are drenched. He holds her down until he realizes sheÒs not struggling to move, just to breathe, and then he eases off. She just looks at him, panting, like she doesnÒt know what happened. Her breath comes in rasps. ÓDid I scoreØÔ
        ÓUh. .Ô He laughs. ÓNo. Not even close. Are you okayØÔ he asks. He pushes her filthy hair out of her face, and his face grows concerned. ÓHey.Ô His fingers are cold on her cheek.
        She heaves and tries to catch her breath. ÓI think IÒm going to puke.Ô
        ÓNo, youÒre not.Ô


        ÓHow would you knowØÔ
        ÓI just know. YouÒre fine.Ô He rolls away from her just in case.
        ÓI might drown first.Ô
        ÓDistinct possibility.Ô
        They lie gasping, rain pouring over them. Once Kendall can move, she struggles to an upright position.
        She looks at Jacian in his T-shirt and shorts, totally mud covered. ÓYou must be freezing,Ô she says.
        ÓYeah.Ô He sits up too, and she can see goose bumps on his arms and legs. ÓYouØÔ
        ÓI think my sweatshirt weighs fifty pounds. ItÒs keeping me warm just by being so heavy.Ô
        ÓI think I still have Arizona blood.Ô He pulls his knees up. ÓNot used to this cold.Ô
        ÓJust wait. ItÒll snow soon. Just like that itÒll go from the decent fall weather, pretty colors, to snow. ItÒs probably snowing up in the mountains right now if weÒre getting rain here.Ô
        Jacian gets to his feet. His clothes drip. ÓDo you ever rideØÔ
        ÓSure. We donÒt have any horses right now.Ô
        ÓI bet I know where you can borrow one.Ô
        Kendall smiles and gets up too. They walk to the porch together. ÓYou should get inside. You want me to drip-dry out hereØ I can call my mom for a ride. I doubt theyÒre out in the fields when itÒs like this.Ô
        ÓEither way, you wonÒt be welcome in any vehicle like that. You can just take a shower here. We have enough bathrooms. Is that weirdØÔ
        ÓA little. I didnÒt even think to bring a towel to sit on like I usually do when we play games in the rain.Ô
        ÓItÒs okay. Seriously.Ô
        Kendall feels the chill working into her system too, now. ÓOkay. Yeah. Thanks.Ô Gingerly she pulls her sodden sweatshirt up over her head and drops it like a rock to the porch. ÓIÒll need a plastic bag for my clothes.Ô
        ÓNo problem.Ô He takes off his shoes, peels off his socks, and squeezes out the hems of his shirt and shorts, trying to get as much water out of them as possible so he doesnÒt drip all over the house. ÓYou remember where MarlenaÒs bathroom is upstairsØ ÑCause youÒre going to have to make a mad dash.Ô
        ÓYep.Ô She does the same with her clothes and footgear. Thanks to the sweatshirt, her shirt is only wet, not soaked, but itÒs still sticking to her. When Jacian glances at it, she blushes. ÓOkay, IÒm going to make a run for it.Ô
        ÓDonÒt forget to bring your clean clothes with you, or you could have another problem,Ô he teases.
        KendallÒs face turns hot. ÓGood point.Ô She opens the door and runs nimbly through the house, grabbing her backpack as she goes, and then dashing up the stairs.
        A shower never felt so good. Even being alone in the house with Jacian, knowing heÒs naked in another shower somewhere nearby, doesnÒt mess with her brain. ÓThank you, soccer,Ô she says reverently. She feels terrific. ItÒs been too long. She lathers up and thinks about how much better she feels now than she has since. . well, since the last time she played soccer with Jacian.


        ÓI wonder if I could get him to dance,Ô she muses out loud as she runs her fingers through her wet hair, trying to comb it.
        She emerges, hair still wet, back in her school clothes, and it feels awkward now. She wonders what sheÒll find when she gets back downstairs. She creeps down and hears something in the kitchen. She slips into the room and sees Jacian standing at the counter in jeans and with a towel around his neck.
        ThereÒs no denying the guy works out. HeÒs listening to a message on the answering machine from
        Mrs. Obregon, saying theyÒre staying in Bozeman for dinner and not to wait to eat. He deletes it.
        ÓHey,Ô Kendall says.
        He reaches into the refrigerator and pulls out two Granny Smith apples and a hunk of cheese. ÓYou hungryØ IÒm starving.Ô
        ÓYeah, sure.Ô
        He pulls a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard and a knife from the drawer and starts slicing apples.
        ÓI should probably get home soon. .,Ô Kendall says. ÓIÒm sure you have stuff to do.Ô She canÒt stop looking at his chest.
        He pauses in his cutting. ÓYou need to go nowØ IÒll drive you.Ô
        ÓNo! I mean, no hurry. And not unless you want to. I can call my mom.Ô
        ÓItÒs okay. I want to.Ô He continues slicing and moves on to the second apple, and then opens the block of cheese and slices that. Hands her a plate. ÓHere. Apple. Peanut butter. Manchego. Take your pick.Ô
        She takes some of each. ÓSo, ah, IÒm not sure if you know this, but youÒre not wearing a shirt.Ô
        ÓDistracting, isnÒt itØÔ
        ÓYouÒre pretty sure youÒre hot, arenÒt you.Ô It feels more comfortable when they are at odds, somehow.
        ÓYou said it.Ô
        ÓAnd IÒm sure IÒll regret it. Do you always walk around like thatØÔ
        ÓYeah, always. You mean this is the first time you noticedØÔ He drags an apple slice through a glob of peanut butter and takes a bite. ÓNo. Just on laundry day. IÒm out of shirts.Ô
        ÓOh! Crap. Laundry. I need a plastic bag.Ô Kendall jumps off her bar stool. ÓI left my wet stuff hanging in the shower.Ô
        Jacian reaches for a drawer and pulls out a trash bag. ÓHere.Ô
        ÓBe right back.Ô
        She returns moments later to find all the food gone. ÓWow.Ô
        ÓI was really hungry.Ô
        ÓApparently.Ô
        He grins. ÓIÒm a growing boy. What do you want from meØÔ


        ÓI donÒt know, maybe the rest of the food that was on my plateØÔ
        ÓDude, you left.Ô
        ÓNext time IÒll take my plate with me.Ô
        ÓNext time.Ô He raises an eyebrow. ÓTomorrowØÔ
        She looks at him. So conflicted. She knows her parents could use her help, but harvest is almost done.
        And if she begs off, she knows her mother will say yes. After the relief her brain is experiencing right now, she wants to get back out there and continue playing until she collapses.
        And then thereÒs just one more nagging feeling. One that she pushes back every time she has a pleasant conversation with Jacian. She knows itÒs stupid. But when she thinks about how much Nico might have suffered, or might be suffering. . How can she do anything fun × especially with another guy × and feel good about itØ
        It just feels wrong.
        ÓI didnÒt know it was such a loaded question.Ô Jacian is leaning on the counter now, looking at Kendall intently during her silence.
        She swallows hard. ÓItÒs not. ItÒs. . I donÒt know. IÒll have to see.Ô
        Jacian nods. ÓOkay.Ô He goes into the adjacent laundry room and comes out wearing a Phoenix Suns sweatshirt.
        ÓMy dadÒs a big fan,Ô he explains, rolling his eyes. ÓYou readyØÔ he asks. He pulls his truck keys from his pocket.
        Kendall nods.
        He drives her home in silence. When he gets to her driveway, he says, ÓYou know, if you ever want to talk about it, I. . I could listen. Or, you know. Whatever.Ô
        ÓThanks. I donÒt know if. .Ô She grabs her backpack, which weighs a ton because of the wet clothes.
        ÓThanks,Ô she says again. And because of his sincerity, she reaches over and squeezes his hand. And then she slips out of the truck and doesnÒt look back.
        That night Kendall sleeps hard and soundly for the first time since Nico disappeared.

        WE
        ANGER. Again We are stalled, turned back from Our plan. Our souls pound and rock the metal, the wood, the room, and the building. Revenge is near. Thirty-five. One hundred. Thirty-five. One hundred!
        In agony, We scrape a new message.
        Touch me.
        Tell no one.
        ItÒs me.

        TWENTY
        The sun shines again. ItÒs Friday, and NicoÒs desk is still in its place.
        She almost doesnÒt notice it × the words.
        But she does. How could she notØ
        ThereÒs nothing else she can do. She brushes it with her fingertips when she passes the desk to sharpen her pencil. And again when she throws something in the trash. And she hears it, barely. The whisper. NicoÒs voice. Touch me. Tell no one. ItÒs me.
        At lunch she waits until everyone is outside, and then she moves to it. Cautiously she slips her fingers over the new graffiti, back and forth, as NicoÒs voice fills her ears.
        Her heart pounds. How can this be happeningØ
        She rests her cheek against it, closes her eyes, and absorbs his words. ItÒs not as strong, not as overpowering this time. It starts out gentle and builds, hovers, the euphoria that comes over her.
        By the time lunch is over, Kendall doesnÒt want to pull away. She stays where she is, unmoving, not listening to Ms. Hinkler, not caring what anybody else in the class might think about her unauthorized move. Not noticing the puzzled looks from Jacian and Eli and the others. Nothing matters but the words and the solace they bring.
        When Jacian and Marlena nudge her at the end of the day, Kendall pulls herself away. ItÒs like the afternoon was only minutes long. And now she has to leave him, leave Nico, for the entire weekend. The incredible high drains slowly, and by the time the three of them are at HectorÒs, Kendall feels like she just came off of a very big sugar rush. SheÒs lethargic and her brain is muddled.
        ÓWhatÒs up with you todayØÔ Jacian asks as they stretch for soccer. Marlena sits wrapped up in a blanket on the porch, watching, her foot propped up on the railing.
        ÓNothing much,Ô Kendall says. Her voice sounds far away.
        ÓYou got tired of sitting by meØÔ
        ÓHuhØ No. I just. .Ô She trails off, wondering what sheÒs going to say. ÓI just feel closer to Nico when
        IÒm sitting there.Ô
        Jacian grabs a ball and starts dribbling. He doesnÒt say anything.
        Kendall goes through the motions of doing some exercises but when Jacian passes the ball to her, she misses, or doesnÒt make the effort to return the ball.
        ÓCome on,Ô he mutters.
        Kendall shakes her arms and does a quick jog in place in an attempt to clear her head. ÓSorry. IÒm not sure. .Ô She tries to concentrate, and slowly, as she focuses and puts some effort into the sport, the fuzziness in her brain clears. By the time sheÒs fully into playing, questions start bombarding. As she runs, the questions sound out at every step.
        What is happening to meØ
        How is it possibleØ


        Is this what Nico was feeling when he was so distant, those days before he disappearedØ
        She stops short and lets Jacian steal the ball as she realizes how strange everything was today. ÓOh my God,Ô she says in a strange voice. ÓOh my God. IÒm going insane.Ô She flops to the grass, her head pounding, as Jacian comes running over.
        ÓAre you okayØÔ he asks.
        Kendall looks up at him for a long moment. She shakes her head no. And then she bursts into tears.
        ÓSomething is happening to me!Ô she sobs.
        Jacian drops to the ground next to her, facing her. He reaches out, and she clings to him, burying her face and crying into his neck. He holds her, pats her back, pushes her hair from her face and whispers in her ear. ÓItÒs okay, Kendall. ItÒs okay.Ô
        ÓSomething weird is happening!Ô she cries again. ÓI donÒt want to disappear. I thought I might want to. . to be with him, but I donÒt. I donÒt want to. IÒm so scared.Ô
        Jacian smoothes his hand over KendallÒs hair. ÓNobody else wants you to either,Ô he says.
        Marlena, on the porch, hops up on her good foot to get a better look at whatÒs happening. Jacian waves her off. She scowls and then retreats inside the house to watch from the window.
        ÓIÒm so scared,Ô Kendall says again, a whisper this time.
        ÓTell me why,Ô Jacian says. ÓDo you know somethingØ Did something happenØÔ He pulls away and looks at her. Wipes the tears from her cheeks with gentle fingers.
        Kendall thinks for a long moment, trying to decide. Knowing anything she says about the desk will sound completely loony. ÓItÒs crazy. IÒm going crazy. I swear. I canÒt tell you why. IÖI donÒt even know why.Ô
        ÓWhat can I do to help youØÔ Jacian asks. His eyes are filled with concern. There is nothing left of his hardness, his anger from when Kendall first met him.
        She canÒt tell him. ÓI just. .Ô She bites her lip and then tries to laugh at her own ridiculousness.
        Because, thinking back on the day, it all seems so crazy. Like she was hypnotized or something. And now itÒs like she has snapped out of it. Like itÒs probably all just her imagination. ÓI just need to stop thinking about Nico for a while, I think. Not forget him, just. . try to let him go a little bit.Ô
        Jacian swallows hard and looks off into the woods for a moment, like he doesnÒt know what to say.
        Then he nods. ÓOkay. . um. .Ô
        ÓYeah. So. Can you help meØÔ She sniffs and wipes her eyes. ÓSorry about all the crying.Ô
        ÓSure. And I donÒt mind. Once in a while, I mean.Ô He laughs. ÓI donÒt get what I can do to help you, though. Keep you occupiedØ Like, maybe you and I could go riding tomorrow.Ô
        ÓYeah, like that. That sounds good. IÒm going to tell my parents that I need to have some time away from all that thinking that happens when IÒm working on the farm. TheyÒll let me. TheyÒre worried.Ô
        ÓAnd Sunday, youÒre coming for MarlenaÒs birthday partyØÔ
        ÓYes,Ô Kendall says. ÓYes. Thank you. Okay.Ô She sighs in relief. ÓThat sounds good. I hope you donÒt get sick of me. YouÒre a real champ to do this.Ô
        ÓWell, itÒs a hardship, thatÒs for sure. Just looking at you makes me want to go and. . do something.Ô


        ÓOoh, zinger.Ô
        ÓYeah, pathetic. IÒll work on that.Ô
        Kendall hops to her feet, a little embarrassed and ready to end this episode of the ongoing drama.
        ÓOkay,Ô she says. ÓReady to finish this gameØÔ She offers a hand.
        ÓThe rules say the gameÒs not over until you assault me with a flagrant foul, you know.Ô
        ÓHey, it wasnÒt flagrant.Ô She slaps his head.
        Jacian grabs her hand and gets up. ÓYesterdayØ Grabbing me around the waist and tripping meØ No, that was really subtle, Fletcher. No call. Now,Ô he says lightly, though his eyes pierce through her, ÓletÒs see if you can keep your hands off me.Ô He draws his thumb across her jaw, catching a lingering teardrop.
        An unexpected longing pierces her gut, runs through her whole body, and her lips part in surprise. ÓNo problem,Ô she says. Not quite sure she means it.

        WE
        We had you. For a moment We had you wrapped inside Our core. You were a cricket in Our web.
        Our patience is thin, Our souls shellacked in wood. We need you.
        Come back, little cricket.
        SAVE ME!
        IÒM ALIVE.
        SAY YES.

        TWENTY-ONE
        Saturday dawns clear. At breakfast Kendall thinks about school and the desk, and knows it has to be her mind messing with her. Playing tricks. ItÒs the stress, she knows. Hanging around with Jacian and being normalØ It sounds awesome. Riding againØ Fantastic. ItÒs been months.
        ÓYouÒre off the job for the rest of the season,Ô her father says. ÓDo you need to visit your shrink againØÔ
        ÓNathan,Ô Mrs. Fletcher chides.
        ÓSorry. Your psychologistØÔ
        ÓI donÒt care if you call her a shrink,Ô Kendall says, mouth full of pancakes. ÓAnd no, I think IÒm okay. I just need to do some of the old techniques again to control this OCD. I know what to do. ItÒs just all the time I have to think about Nico in school, and then in the fields. . it was really getting to me. Making me a little bit crazy.Ô A lot crazy, to be honest.
        ÓI told you, Nathan,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says. ÓThis kind of schedule for her was a bad idea, after everything thatÒs happened.Ô
        ÓHey!Ô Mr. Fletcher says. ÓWhy is everything suddenly all my faultØÔ
        ÓAnd then the rejection from Juilliard. .Ô
        ÓYeah, thanks for the reminder,Ô Kendall says. The mention of Juilliard, the lack of future plans, dampens her mood considerably.
        ÓSorry,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says, Óbut itÒs true you need to start thinking about another option sometime soon.Ô
        ÓBut, Mother!Ô Kendall flops her head onto the table. She knows itÒs true.
        ÓNow, where are you going to be todayØÔ
        Kendall lifts her head. ÓIÒm going riding.Ô
        ÓWithØÔ
        ÓWith. . Jacian.Ô She feels guilty saying it. As if maybe Nico is somewhere listening.
        ÓIs Marlena going tooØÔ
        ÓNo,Ô she says wryly, ÓsheÒs not quite ready to get back on the horse.Ô
        Mr. Fletcher snickers.
        Mrs. Fletcher looks concerned. ÓDoes he know how to rideØÔ
        ÓYeah. Marlena said they had horses in Arizona. And he rides HectorÒs now and then.Ô
        ÓYou stay close to town, okayØ DonÒt go too far.Ô Mrs. FletcherÒs voice is nervous.
        ÓMother, may I remind you that when the two individuals disappeared, they were in townØ WeÒre probably safer the farther out we ride.Ô
        ÓI know. I just worry.Ô


        ÓWeÒll be fine. Back by dark.Ô
        ÓFine. Call me if you need a ride, though IÒll be out working until sundown.Ô
        Mr. Fletcher drains the last of his coffee and shoves his chair back wearily, ready for another day.
        ÓShould be done by weekÒs end,Ô he says.
        Mrs. Fletcher follows him but stops to give Kendall a peck on the cheek. ÓHave fun. You could use some fun for once.Ô
        ÓI will. See you tonight. IÒll call when weÒre back at the ranch. You and Daddy are going to HectorÒs for dinner tomorrow, rightØ Did he callØÔ
        ÓYes, he called. WeÒre going to try. We lost most of two days this week because of the rain, you know.
        . but Dad and I could use a break too.Ô
        ÓCool.Ô Kendall reaches out and hugs her mother. ÓThanks for letting me off work,Ô she says.
        When Jacian comes to pick her up, Kendall has a backpack filled with water and food, an emergency kit, and a blanket to sit on for lunch. SheÒs wearing jeans and boots and grabs her jacket and a cowboy hat on the way out.
        ÓYou get your deliveries done alreadyØÔ she asks as they head back to the ranch.
        ÓI did them last night and two this morning. Done.Ô
        ÓSweet.Ô
        Back at HectorÒs they walk out to the horse barn. Marlena waves forlornly from the window. ÓSheÒs pathetic,Ô Jacian says.
        ÓI feel bad she canÒt do anything.Ô
        ÓSheÒs got friends coming over. SheÒll be fine. Plus, she gets a big blowout party tomorrow.Ô
        ÓTrue.Ô
        The barn is quiet, eerie. They saddle up two quarter horses and lead them out. Kendall unpacks her backpack and leaves it inside the barn, loads the saddlebags with the goods, and then mounts. They head off on a path toward the woods at a brisk walk, quiet at first. It smells crisp and piney.
        After a while KendallÒs mind starts running circles around her, about the desk and Nico. Trying to forget about all of that, she asks, ÓRemember when you were in my drivewayØÔ
        ÓYeah.Ô
        ÓYou told me the next day that you were feeling bad about something so you were out for a walk. What was going onØÔ
        ÓOh.Ô Jacian seems surprised by the question. ÓUm. . yeah. No big deal.Ô
        ÓCome on. WhatØÔ
        ÓWell, itÒs been kind of hard moving here. I think it was the full moon or something that had me downIÒm fine.Ô


        ÓYouÒre so tough.Ô She rolls her eyes.
        ÓYeah, maybe.Ô
        Kendall shrugs. ÓLet me guess. You left your girlfriend back in Arizona, you hate the outdoors, miss the city, are forced to spend your last year of high school with a bunch of strangers and to do all kinds of crap work involving animal dung, for a grandfather you barely know. You leave your big city high school soccer team behind for a rinky-dink cowboy half team full of hicks, and then the season gets canceled because one too many players disappear without a trace. HowÒm I doingØÔ
        Jacian smiles in spite of himself. ÓYouÒre pretty much batting a thousand so far.Ô
        ÓAnd then you have no chance at a scholarship because you canÒt show a scout your amazing moves.Ô
        ÓTrue. .Ô
        ÓYou make it sound like thereÒs more.Ô
        ÓWell, thereÒs being accused of kidnapping upon first moving to an all-white town.

        ÓItÒs not all white. Old Mr. Greenwood is pure Blackfeet Tribe, according to Eli. There are others of different races. TravisÒs mom is Cambodian.Ô
        ÓAll right, whatever. That partÒs over.Ô
        ÓPlus, nobody thinks you did anything now. They were happy to pin the blame on Nico just as soon as he was unable to speak for himself.Ô
        Jacian is quiet for a moment. The horses lean forward as they ascend a small hill. ÓI donÒt think he did anything.Ô
        ÓItÒs weird, though, rightØÔ
        ÓYeah. What do you think happenedØÔ
        Kendall thinks about the desk. About how strange Nico acted. About how she felt like she was in a trance yesterday when she sat there. About the coincidence of Nico and Tiffany both sitting at that desk, and about how NicoÒs car was at school when he disappeared.
        ÓKendallØ You okayØÔ
        Kendall glances at him. ÓIf I tell you something weird, will you think IÒm. . like. . weirdØÔ
        ÓProbably.Ô He smiles to let her know heÒs teasing.
        ÓYou know Tiffany Quinn, the girl who disappeared in MayØ Both she and Nico had the same desk.Ô
        Jacian is quiet.
        ÓItÒs just a coincidence. I mean, who would even know that except for stupid OCD me.Ô
        ÓYeah,Ô Jacian says slowly. ÓThat is a weird coincidence.Ô He looks at Kendall, eyebrows furrowed.
        Thinking. But he says nothing more.
        ÓYou think IÒm weird.Ô
        ÓYou are weird. But thatÒs not a bad thing.Ô


        They travel onward to a huge open field, cattle roaming wild. ÓAre these some of yoursØÔ Kendall asks.
        Jacian rides close to check the brand. ÓLooks that way.Ô
        ÓWho gets to round them up when winter hitsØÔ
        ÓMy parents. Me. Maybe Marlena if sheÒs allowed on a quad again soon.Ô
        ÓDoes Hector ride stillØÔ
        ÓNot four-wheelers. But horsesØ Sure. HeÒll never give that up.Ô
        ÓI havenÒt seen him on a horse in a while. HowÒs his healthØÔ
        ÓHeÒs just taking it easy. Finally semiretired, now that my parents are here. He spends a lot of time with old Mr. Greenwood.Ô
        Kendall thinks. ÓHe said theyÒve been friends since they were teenagers.Ô
        Jacian nods. ÓThey both got sent to the same reform school.Ô
        ÓWhatØÔ Kendall pulls up on her horse. ÓAre you seriousØÔ
        ÓTotally serious. He told me the other day.Ô
        ÓAround hereØÔ
        ÓNot far. Just a few miles away. ThereÒs an overgrown gravel driveway if you take the viaduct all the way around north to nowhere. YouÒd miss it if you didnÒt know it was there. When we were out searching for Nico,Ô he says, Ówe got near to the back end of the reform schoolÒs property, which is actually a lot closer to the ranch as the crow flies but totally inaccessible. The school got shut down a long time ago.
        Abandoned. ItÒs all completely overgrown now. Grandfather didnÒt want to go anywhere near it.Ô
        ÓWhyØÔ
        ÓHe said it was a bad place. He didnÒt want to talk about it. Said heÒd never go back again. Too many memories.Ô
        ÓPoor Hector. HeÒs so nice.Ô
        ÓToo bad none of it rubbed off on me, huhØÔ Jacian grins.
        Kendall laughs. ÓThatÒs pretty much what I used to think about you! You know, you really pissed me off when you told me I was putting the meat in the freezer wrong. I wanted to punch you.Ô
        ÓI was quite aware of that. However, you have to cut me some slack. I didnÒt know about your little. . uh. . special gift back then. You do realize that the way you were stacking them was totally not logical, rightØÔ
        ÓSure, I know that, but why the hell did you careØ Are you some kind of control freakØÔ
        ÓMaybe a little. Not much anymore. I gave it up.Ô He laughs bitterly. ÓItÒs clear I have no control over anything these days.Ô
        They are quiet for a while. The trail meanders in front of them, leading to a wide-open space. Jacian clucks his tongue and leans forward. His horse trots, then canters. Kendall flies after him, and they have a good chase for a quarter of an hour to where the woods grow thick.


        ÓThat was awesome,Ô Kendall says. Her cheeks glow. They dismount, and Kendall rummages around, finding the things she packed for lunch. ÓThis day rocks. Thanks for making me go.Ô
        Jacian stretches out on his back on the blanket. He plucks a long wheatlike weed and chews on it.
        ÓYeah, I really had to twist your arm.Ô
        Kendall plops down beside him. ÓOh, stop it. Why do we always have to argueØÔ
        ÓBecause itÒs funØÔ
        Kendall smacks his chest, but this time he is ready. He grabs her arm and holds it tightly to his chest, pulls her toward him. ÓDonÒt.Ô
        Kendall struggles one-armed to sit up, surprise on her face. ÓDonÒt whatØÔ She can feel his body heat through his shirt.
        ÓI think youÒre afraid to like me.Ô JacianÒs dark eyes slice into hers for a long moment before he speaks again. ÓIf you want to touch me, Kendall, then touch me. DonÒt hide behind those little girl slaps.Ô
        Her eyes widen, and she stares at him as something stirs in the pit of her gut. Something incredible.
        And a little scary. Something sheÒs never felt before. But all she can say is, ÓWhat makes you think I want to touch youØ I have a boyfriend. You have a girlfriend.Ô
        ÓIs that the way it isØÔ
        Kendall swallows hard. ÓSeems pretty clear that it is.Ô
        Jacian holds her arm a moment longer, a flicker in his eyes and at the corner of his mouth the only indications he heard her. And then he releases her. ÓWhatever.Ô He clears his throat and gets to his feet, then pulls apples and some grain from his saddlebag for the horses.
        Kendall stares at him from the blanket. Then she shakes her head and opens up her lunch, sorting her fruit salad into sections of the bowl before eating. But she tastes nothing. Her mouth is like sawdust.
        Because she knows one thing is true, even though she hasnÒt wanted to admit it.
        The missing boyfriend who would do anything for her, who has been her best friend since birthØ Never.
        Ever. Made her feel like that. Never made her gut twist just with a look, a touch. Never made her so hot she wanted to tackle him, kiss him hard. Press her body against his and roll around in a field, not even caring that little bits of grass were getting on her clothes.
        ÓYouÒre not going to eatØÔ she says after a while, breaking the awkward silence.
        ÓIÒm not hungry.Ô
        ÓI made you a lunch.Ô
        ÓThanks. But IÒm still not hungry.Ô
        Kendall glares. How can somebody be so hot one minute and so annoying the nextØ Whatever the case, the perfect day is ruined.
        Ruined by the truth.
        And the guilt builds. The guilt of Nico. She curses her own weakness. HeÒs only been missing a month.
        ItÒs no different from if sheÒd gone to Juilliard and heÒd gone to Bozeman.
        Except it is. ItÒs vastly different. Worse, because he no longer has a voice. Worse, because what would people say if she gave up on himØ What would NicoÒs parents sayØ What if heÒs not deadØ She imagines the looks on their faces.
        And on his.
        ÓStop it,Ô she mutters. She canÒt let her brain go to weird places. Nothing happened. And nothing will.
        The silence grows prickly and painful as they pack up. Head home.
        She starts counting horse steps anxiously as they travel back to the ranch. One hundred, five hundred.
        Even when she hits a thousand, she canÒt stop counting. She canÒt stop, she decides, until she hears a hawk cry.
        After two thousand she convinces herself that if she hears either a mourning dove or a hawk she can end this. At three thousand she concludes that if she sees a grouse or even a goddamn rabbit, she can stop counting. Finally, thankfully, at 3,
42 the rabbit comes through for her.
        But the rabbit doesnÒt fix her problem.
        So the counting begins again, fresh from zero.
        Her anxiety builds. She hates this. Just wants to go home.
        They put the horses in the barn, and Kendall watches awkwardly as Jacian tends to them, rubbing them down, getting them water and food, putting their blankets on them. He doesnÒt look at her. Eventually she just turns and leaves, walking up to the house alone. She knocks on the door and is greeted by Mrs.
        Obregon and a delicious smell and sizzle from the stove. Her stomach, after only the few pieces of fruit for lunch, growls loudly.
        ÓCan you stay for dinnerØÔ Mrs. Obregon asks, handing Kendall the phone.
        ÓYes,Ô Marlena says. ÓStay!Ô
        ÓI should get home.Ô Kendall dials her mother and prays for her to pick up. But thereÒs no answer. ÓHey, Mom,Ô she says to the machine, thinking fast. ÓIÒm back at HectorÒs. Yeah. Mmm-hmm. It was good. Just pick me up. . whenever. . Ô She trails off. ÓOkay. See you soon. Bye.Ô
        Kendall hangs up the phone and smiles with a brightness she doesnÒt feel. ÓMy momÒll be here in a minute. IÒm going to wait outside. Thanks for. . yeah. The horses. Everything.Ô
        Kendall turns as Marlena and Mrs. Obregon watch her, puzzled looks on their faces.
        As darkness falls, Kendall slips through the trees and runs.
        She doesnÒt see Jacian standing in the driveway, watching her go.
        DoesnÒt know itÒs him driving by late that night when she stands in front of the upstairs window, crying for Nico to forgive her.

        WE
        Alone again, so long. This time We wait. This time We know for sure. That heat, that heartbeat, that life × will be back.
        I need you.

        TWENTY-TWO
        All night Kendall dreams about the desk and Nico. She sleeps in on Sunday but wakes with a start and wonders, what if. . wherever Nico is, heÒs trying to send her a messageØ What if itÒs not her imagination or her grief or her OCD, but itÒs realØ
        She sits up, disoriented, bright sunshine streaming into her bedroom.
        What if NicoÒs really able, somehow, to connect with herØ And all this time sheÒs been ignoring his calls for helpØ
        By the time she hits the shower, sheÒs laughing it off again. ÓFletcher,Ô she says, Óget a fricking grip, will youØÔ As she dresses, sheÒs wondering if maybe she does need to see the shrink again. ItÒs not that she doesnÒt like her doctor. SheÒs really been helpful through all the tough times. But it makes Kendall feel sort of like sheÒs backsliding. Which, just maybe, she is. ÓIt probably wouldnÒt hurt to see her once,Ô she mutters.
        Alone in the house, Kendall nibbles at a muffin and wraps the present she bought for Marlena from the general store × a set of earrings with little topaz stones. And then, because sheÒs bored, she makes cookies, thinking it might be good to bring something to the party.
        By two Kendall is flipping through channels on TV, watching televangelists, infomercials, and cartoons.
        She goes out back to see if her mother and father are coming, but she sees no one except stupid
        BrandonÒs father, who is helping out on weekends with harvest. She heads back inside and waits some more.
        SheÒs sure they forgot.
        At two forty-five, the phone rings.
        ÓHelloØÔ
        ÓWhere are youØÔ ItÒs Marlena with a pouty voice.
        ÓIÒm waiting for my douchey parents to get here so they can drive me. I think they forgot.Ô She hears music and laughing in the background.
        ÓWhy didnÒt you callØ Jacian will come get you. Jacian!Ô She yells into the phone. ÓGo pick up Kendall!Ô
        ÓNo, thatÒs okay×Ô
        ÓHeÒs on the way. Just get here!Ô
        Kendall hangs up and sighs. Writes a note to her parents. Grabs her coat, the gift, and the cookies and goes outside to wait on the front steps.
        ÓThanks,Ô Kendall says, getting into the truck. ÓSorry.Ô
        Jacian, clad in an apron and smelling like smoke, waves her off and speeds back toward HectorÒs.
        Kendall grips the armrest. ÓYou trying to get a speeding ticketØÔ
        Jacian shrugs. ÓSheriff is at my house having margaritas and carne asada, and my poblanos are probably burning.Ô
        ÓYou cook, tooØÔ


        ÓNo. I grill. I donÒt know how to cook.Ô He flies up the driveway, parks next to a row of vehicles, and exits the truck almost before the engine quits. Runs for the smoke-filled backyard to an open fire pit with a big grate on it. He grabs a pair of tongs and starts flipping charred-looking things over.
        Kendall watches him for a minute, then walks into the house and greets Marlena with a hug. Eli, Travis, and stupid Brandon are there, as well as some juniors and the group of sophomore girls that Marlena has become friends with. Everybody mingles loudly, all varieties of Latin music playing in the background. At least a quarter of CryerÒs Cross is here. Mrs. Obregon works the blender, making drinks for the adult guests, and Hector serves up sodas for the under-twenty-one crowd.
        Kendall grabs a Dr Pepper and weaves through the people, observing. Lots of parents are here. Even
        NicoÒs parents. Kendall feels guilty that she hasnÒt been by to see them lately. She walks over to say hello. They look terrible.
        ÓHey, Mr. and Mrs. Cruz,Ô she says.
        ÓHi, Kendall, sweetheart,Ô Mrs. Cruz says. She gives her a long hug. ÓAre your parents hereØÔ
        ÓNo, not yet. I guess they had to finish up some stuff on the farm.Ô Kendall canÒt help but stare at the bags under Mrs. CruzÒs eyes. ÓHow are you doingØÔ
        She smiles and shrugs, eyes glistening. ÓYou can imagine, IÒm sure.Ô
        Kendall nods, and they stand there, awkwardly looking around the room, nothing else to say. ÓIt was great of you to come.Ô
        Mr. Cruz nods. He looks grayer than ever. ÓWe needed to get out. It was nice to be invited.Ô He stares off. ÓI think IÒll go help Mr. Obregon with. . whatever he needs help with.Ô
        ÓAnd I promised Carmelita IÒd help with serving,Ô Mrs. Cruz says. ÓGood seeing you, Kendall.Ô
        Kendall smiles a tight smile and nods. ÓYeah, you too.Ô
        From behind Kendall comes a voice. ÓThat was awkward.Ô
        Kendall turns and sees Eli Greenwood. She sighs with relief. ÓYeah. . ItÒs so weird now. ItÒs like I donÒt know what to say to them.Ô
        ÓItÒs the same with TiffanyÒs parents.Ô
        ÓOh no. Are they here tooØÔ
        ÓNo. They said they couldnÒt make it.Ô
        ÓThis has to be a hard thing to attend. IÒm surprised the Cruzes came. Seeing all of us here. .Ô
        ÓYeah, itÒs weird.Ô
        They take in the crowd for a moment before KendallÒs eyes stray to the backyard. She watches Jacian at the fire pit. HeÒs flipping a tortilla in a small cast-iron skillet now. ÓSo, howÒs the foodØÔ
        ÓItÒs pretty awesome. You need to get some. Here, IÒll help you.Ô He grins. ÓGet another plate for myself while IÒm at it.Ô
        They load up their plates full of food and snake their way outside to the deck, where thereÒs room to eat and itÒs not so noisy. Hector is outside now too, sitting with EliÒs grandfather. Marlena and the group of sophomore girls stand a dozen feet away, eating, gossiping. Several of them are watching Jacian lustily, and Kendall feels a ridiculous pang of jealousy. She shoves a soft taco into her mouth and glares.
        ÓSo, your brother,Ô one of the girls says to Marlena. The others giggle.
        ÓWhat about himØÔ
        ÓHeÒs so broody and cute.Ô
        ÓHeÒs got a girlfriend,Ô one of the others says. ÓGet over it.Ô
        Marlena chews wildly and waves at her mouth as if that will make the food go away. She swallows and says, ÓNope. HeÒs single. He broke up with his girlfriend last week.Ô
        The girls gasp loudly enough to make Jacian look. When they break into giggles, he scowls and turns his back again.
        KendallÒs jaw drops. She wonders why he didnÒt mention that yesterday on the little ride that turned weird. SheÒs not sure how that makes her feel.
        Eli rolls his eyes. ÓDammit,Ô he says. ÓThat guy is not making things easier around here.Ô
        Kendall slips an arm around her friendÒs waist. ÓAw, donÒt worry, honey,Ô she says. ÓTheyÒll get over him eventually, and then you can swoop in and attack.Ô
        Eli laughs. ÓIÒve done enough swooping. I think IÒm going to have to look elsewhere. Too many guys, not enough girls around here.Ô He shrugs. ÓWhere are you going to collegeØ Do you know yetØÔ
        Kendall sighs. ÓNo. I donÒt know. I might just hang around here.Ô
        ÓDonÒt be stupid, Kendall.Ô
        ÓWhatØ WhyØÔ
        ÓYouÒre really smart and talented. Get the heck out of here.Ô
        ÓBut what if. .Ô
        Eli looks at her. ÓWhat if whatØ What if Nico comes back and youÒre not hereØ Look. . itÒs really hard to say this to you because I know it hurts, but you know that itÒs not likely. The chances weÒll ever see him again. . Well, you know the statistics. And even if he does come back, there are lots of ways of finding you to let you know. Maybe you can even get a cell phone once you get out of here.Ô
        Kendall sets her plate on the deck railing. It hurts to hear what heÒs saying, but she knows itÒs true. The thoughts start whipping through her brain again. ÓSo,Ô she says, trying to fight them off, Ówhere are you going to collegeØÔ
        ÓVassar.Ô
        ÓSeriouslyØÔ
        ÓYeah. Tons of women there.Ô
        Kendall laughs. ÓGood for you. You got acceptedØÔ
        ÓYep.Ô Eli looks at his feet and blushes. ÓGot the letter the other day.Ô
        ÓThat is so cool!Ô She hugs him tightly. ÓIÒm really glad for you.Ô


        ÓThanks. Want to make outØÔ
        Kendall laughs. ÓNo, not since that unfortunate spin the bottle incident in sixth grade in stupid BrandonÒs basement.Ô
        ÓYeah, I thought youÒd say that. But hey, worth a try.Ô Eli scoops the last bit of salsa from his plate and licks his fingers. ÓNow for dessert,Ô he says. ÓI heard thereÒs flan. And cookies.Ô He winks at her.
        ÓGo for it.Ô Kendall smiles as she watches Eli go back inside, and then she turns back to her plate. She glances at Jacian again, and this time heÒs staring intently at her. When he sees her looking, he turns away and roughly shoves charred peppers into a paper bag.
        She puts her fork down, suddenly not hungry anymore, and then turns to bring her plate inside.
        Inside, people are dancing. MarlenaÒs still using crutches with her boot, so dancing is out of the question for her. Kendall hangs out on the couch with her and the other girls for a while, but then with a little encouragement, she joins in.
        Her adrenaline soars. It feels so good to dance after weeks without it. As the afternoon progresses into evening, the half-drunk adults completely clear the living room of furniture and really start the celebration.
        Kendall dances with Hector and with Eli, even though heÒs terrible at it and keeps stepping on her feet.
        She gets lots of cheers from the partyers. ItÒs so much fun × she wonders why the little town doesnÒt do parties more often. Stupid potatoes.
        As it grows late, more people drop out or leave entirely, but Marlena shouts for Kendall to stay, to keep dancing. The other girls get up on the floor with her, and things get a little wild. When one of them spins and trips, Hector turns on a sexy couples song to clear away the singles. ItÒs perfect for the salsa.
        Hector has bowed out of the dancing portion, claiming heÒs too old and tired, and none of the boys have a clue how to do it. So Kendall steps to the doorway and watches Mr. and Mrs. Obregon dance. A few other couples join in, but there arenÒt many in this town who know the steps.
        A moment later Jacian appears inside the house for the first time since the party started. HeÒs wearing a fresh white T-shirt. He steps into the room and goes up to his parents. ÓHey, Mama!Ô he shouts, a smile on his face. She laughs and waves at him to come. Jacian cuts in on his father, taking his mother by the hand.
        The girls in the room go slack-jawed as he moves almost perfectly to the gorgeous dance. When he messes up, he grins wide, and his mother smiles back.
        Kendall stares.
        Mr. Obregon stands next to her. ÓHeÒs not bad, my boy,Ô he says proudly. Mr. Obregon has a deep accent, deeper than and different from HectorÒs. His voice is rich and warm and just a bit more weathered than JacianÒs.
        Kendall swallows hard. ÓHow did he learn thatØÔ
        ÓIt was a part of his soccer training. All of the soccer, basketball, and football teams at his old school learn to dance. Makes them better players.Ô
        ÓImpressive,Ô Kendall says. No wonder heÒs so fluid on the field, Kendall thinks. That twinge inside her grows stronger. She feels like sheÒs drooling. And there, across the room, are NicoÒs parents, watching her. Kendall tears her eyes away from Jacian. She weaves through the group of people crowded at the door and slips out, down the hallway and outside to where she can breathe. She takes one last look at
        Jacian through the picture window and then walks out into the yard, the chill of evening feeling delicious on her sweaty skin. She walks past the still-smoldering fire pit and heads toward the horse barn, breathing in the scents of fall. Leaves crunch under her feet. She takes in the deep night, the bright stars.
        The silence of air.
        The horse barn is locked up for the night. It figures, considering the strange stuff of CryerÒs Cross these days. Kendall sinks to the grass and leans up against the barn wall, staring into the night. Thinking.
        About everything. Nico. And college. Jacian and how hot she feels lately when sheÒs around him. And then the guilt comes again. Pounding her, beating her up.
        Alongside that is the crazy, otherworldly scariness of the desk. And again, now that she is alone, she wonders if there actually might be something real about it. What if it truly is NicoØ What if he is trapped in the school, being kept tied up by. . by old Mr. GreenwoodØ And maybe he is allowed to roam the school at night, leaving messages for KendallØ
        But why wouldnÒt he leave them on KendallÒs deskØ And if it were Nico doing the graffiti, how could he make the new stuff look like it had been there for years × and why would he want toØ
        Kendall thinks she knows now. SheÒs pretty damn sure.
        Because that desk, the desk that makes people disappear, is possessed.
        And maybe so are the people who touch it.
        It dawns on her. ThereÒs no kidnapper. ThereÒs absolutely no need for this crazy buddy system. Kendall could wander CryerÒs Cross naked in the middle of the darkest night and nobody would kidnap her.
        ItÒs not a who.
        ItÒs a what.
        She shudders violently. ÓFletcher! YouÒre crazy,Ô she reprimands. ÓKnock it off already.Ô
        A stick crackles, as if KendallÒs outburst startles someone. Kendall whips around and scrambles to her feet. She peers into the darkness. Her heart pounds. She backs up to the barn as tightly as she can, as if its size and structure can give her strength.
        A figure appears and stops abruptly as if it senses her.
        Kendall freezes. ÓWhoÒs thereØÔ
        ÓItÒs just me,Ô Jacian says. He walks toward her, peering through the darkness. ÓYour parents are here.
        TheyÒre worried because they couldnÒt find you.Ô
        ÓOh.Ô
        ÓI said I knew where you were and that you were fine.Ô
        ÓOh,Ô she says again. Flustered. ÓDid youØÔ
        ÓI saw you go out.Ô He stands there a moment. ÓSo you should probably go back inside and prove that for me now, so I donÒt get interrogated again. For the third time.Ô He turns and starts walking back to the house.
        ÓJacian,Ô Kendall says.


        ÓWhatØÔ
        She jogs to catch up to him, not knowing what she intends to say, only that she doesnÒt want him to walk away. ÓYouÒre a really good dancer.Ô
        ÓSo are you.Ô His voice is husky from working in the smoke all evening.
        ÓYou sawØÔ
        His silence is affirmation enough.
        Kendall shoves her hands into her jeans pockets, shivers a little. ÓWhen did you break up with your girlfriendØÔ
        HeÒs quiet for a minute. ÓThat night I went to your house. It was over between us months ago, when I moved. It just took us a long time to say it out loud.Ô
        ÓWhy didnÒt you tell meØÔ
        He shoves a hand into his pocket and looks up to the sky. ÓIt didnÒt seem like it would make any difference to you.Ô After a moment he turns toward the house and starts walking again, faster this time.
        ÓJacian,Ô she says again, and jogs after him. ÓWait.Ô
        ÓWhat nowØÔ
        ÓI. . just. .Ô She grips his arm. Feels her heart pound.
        He stops. Turns toward her. ÓYou feel like slapping me againØÔ
        ÓYes,Ô she says. She can hardly breathe.
        He stands there for a moment, and then he slips his fingers behind her neck, weaving them into her hair, his breath warm on her face. He crushes his lips against hers, pulls her body close, closer.
        Kendall canÒt think. She reaches for his neck, his face, tentatively, moving to his chest, grabbing his Tshirt in her fingers. She canÒt breathe. DoesnÒt want to breathe. Just wants to forget everything.
        Just as abruptly he pulls away. ÓWhat do you want, KendallØ Are you really ready for thisØ I donÒt think you are.Ô
        She gasps and takes a step back. ÓShit,Ô she says. ÓIÒm so sorry.Ô
        He stares. ÓMe too.Ô
        ÓYou understand that I canÒt. .Ô
        He closes his eyes wearily. Takes a deep breath, lets it out, and turns away. ÓYou canÒt,Ô he says. ÓYou canÒt do anything because of your missing boyfriend.Ô His voice is filled with bitterness. ÓSure, I understand. Yeah, you just wanted to get a freebie, just a little something, so you can keep mourning without missing too much action. WhatÒs not to understandØ Besides the fact that it was obvious you two were so much more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend.Ô He doesnÒt wait for her to respond. ÓObvious to me from the moment I saw you.Ô
        ÓYou donÒt know anything,Ô Kendall says.
        ÓMaybe you should think about getting a different ride to school. How about your other boyfriend, EliØÔ


        ÓWhat, now youÒre you jealous of EliØÔ she blurts out. But then she gets control. ÓHis car is full already.
        And maybe youÒre right about Nico and me, and I just didnÒt know any different.Ô She bites her lip, still tasting Jacian, hating herself for wanting to kiss him again. ÓJacian,Ô she says quietly. ÓAll I know is that
        Nico never made me feel like you make me feel. Nobody does.Ô
        Jacian stands there a long moment, agonizing, and then rips his fingers through his hair and turns back toward the horse barn. ÓGod, Kendall! DonÒt. I canÒt do this.Ô He swallows hard and looks away. ÓYou do this, and IÒm the one who looks bad.Ô His eyes bite through the darkness, but his voice is resigned. ÓI canÒt keep being the bad guy around here.Ô
        He turns away and jogs off into the darkness.
        Kendall trudges slowly, numbly, to the house.

        WE
        We slumber, lying in wait, saving Our strength for the day. Now sensing, now quivering. Thirty-five, one hundred. Thirty-five, one hundred.
        Redemption dawns.

        TWENTY-THREE
        Kendall goes to sleep thinking about Jacian, but at night her dreams are about Nico again, urgently trying to contact her through the desk. He pleads, cries out, begging her to find him, save him.
        When she wakes up, sluggish and still exhausted, her heart is all mixed up about how sheÒs supposed to be feeling about guys and life and death. So conflicted. But the one thing thatÒs clear to Kendall is that she needs to go back there. Back to NicoÒs desk one more time. Because if she doesnÒt, sheÒll never shake the feeling that his blood is on her hands, that she could save him if she just werenÒt so stubborn.
        The ride to school is quiet. Marlena, in the middle with a birthday-cake hangover, rests her head against the seat back and whines about how tired she is. Jacian drives stone-faced. Kendall aches. They are all lacking sleep for a variety of reasons.
        Kendall knows that whatever happened last night, itÒs never going to happen again. SheÒs devoted to
        Nico. She has to be. No matter what. At least until somebody knows something about what happened to him. She moves mechanically.
        Jacian doesnÒt speak to Kendall. Resolute, she goes about her morning routine and then, as if drawn in, she forgoes the pretense of starting at her own desk, and just sits at NicoÒs.
        She sees the new graffiti and is only mildly surprised. Recklessly she dives into that world, no resistance this time. She drinks in the words, running her fingers over them, hearing NicoÒs voice calling to her. She rests her cheek on the desk, facing away from Jacian. Her throat catches when she hears
        NicoÒs voice lingering over the short phrases.
        Save me. IÒm alive.
        Say yes. I need you.
        Come back.
        ÓIÒm back,Ô she whispers. ÓIÒm here.Ô Not caring. Never caring again. ÓYes, Nico.Ô Slowly she feels something fill her body, fill the emptiness inside.
        Throughout the morning NicoÒs voice grows stronger, more desperate. Over and over he begs Kendall to save him, to come to him, and she canÒt pull herself away. Not that she wants to. She is forever in that moment just before sleep, that sweet hovering of a moment where nothing else matters. Sounds, urges, all is deep background noise. This, she realizes. . this is truly where her brain doesnÒt rule her world.
        As Kendall floats to the sound of NicoÒs voice for hours, something changes. His voice, it grows increasingly urgent, deeper, darker × like itÒs inside her. Part of her now. Over time she realizes that the voice doesnÒt really even sound like Nico at all anymore. And another layer chimes in, like in a round, chanting, Thirty-five, one hundred. Thirty-five, one hundred. But really, it doesnÒt matter anymore in this floating world. She is trapped here. And she doesnÒt mind.
        Then the words change.
        Beneath her cheek, swirling in whispers through her body. The words become cold and restless.
        Strong. Powerful.
        Come to me.
        Tonight.
        Tell no one!


        Only you can save me.
        Thirty-five, one hundred. Kendall shudders in her surreal state. ItÒs as if all the warmth is sucked from the room. Still, she is caught there, alone except for the new, strange voice. SheÒs trapped by the mesmerizing feeling, the seductive timbre. She floats, shivering, the cold coming from within, and she is unable to snap out of it on her own. Unable to care enough to try. She is one with the voice.
        She knows how it will be. She can see it now. There are pictures flashing behind her eyes × gravel road, long grasses, tangled vines, a fence × hints of where she must go. She accepts it. Accepts her fate as the one who must sacrifice something so that she can save Nico.
        And they shall have her. Their way. It is the right way.
        When Kendall shakes her at the end of the school day, she rises, sluggish, to her feet, takes her things.
        ÓAre you okayØÔ Marlena asks.
        Jacian fails at his attempt to ignore Kendall completely.
        ÓIÒm just so tired,Ô Kendall says, slurring her words. And she is. It feels like she hasnÒt slept in a week.
        Yet she is aware enough to know that she has only one task on which to focus. One goal before itÒs all over. One rule × that she must return tonight to save him. And tell no one.
        Or Nico will die.
        At her request Jacian and Marlena drop Kendall off at home. She trudges up to her bedroom and collapses onto the bed to daydream about seeing Nico again.
        She pictures it, as if the desk is inside her, feeding her still. The back of her school, where she can enter through the always unlocked cellar door. And the place where Nico is × dark and spooky, fog rolling.
        Massive trees and overgrown brush too thick to pass through. An iron gate, rusty underneath miles of coiled, creeping vines.
        Before dark, before her parents get home from working, Kendall pulls herself out of bed and makes her way to the tool barn to collect the things she knows sheÒll need. She selects a flashlight, a shovel, and a hedge clipper and returns with them to her bedroom. She packs the items into a canvas sack and puts it under her bed.
        She feels weak for lack of eating; too weak to try to find something to make her feel better. So she stays upstairs to dream about what will happen when she reunites with Nico. Soon. When her mother comes to check on her, Kendall says sheÒs not feeling well.
        She puts on her pajamas and pretends to turn in.
        Come to me rings in her ears.
        She doesnÒt sleep.
        At eleven p.m., her parents sound asleep, Kendall rises from her bed. She picks up the sack. At the front window she stops. Lingers and says a last good-bye toward NicoÒs house. ÓSee you soon,Ô she whispers. And then, quietly, she sneaks out of the house. Locking the door behind her. Putting on her boots outside on the step.
        A cold wind slaps her face and she can smell snow. The wind is a shock to her system, almost enough to make her brain kick into worry drive. Something nags at her, walking so freely, alone, like sheÒs not supposed to be doing this, but she pushes the thought aside. She is going to save Nico now. This is her purpose. She says it under her breath as she walks, heel to toe, heel to toe. ÓGoing to save Nico now.
        Going to save Nico now.Ô Her eyes are on her boots as she trudges and trips in the dark.
        Yet she walks determinedly through the field, staying off the road so sheÒs not discovered. Tell no one.
        Twenty minutes later she lifts open the cellar door in the gravel behind the school. She steps down onto cracked concrete, her hair brushing low-hanging cobwebs, and walks past the storage room, where giant looming shadows of extra, unused desks taunt her. She climbs the interior steps that lead back up to the main level, and enters the classroom. She wipes a web from her face and stops in front of NicoÒs desk.
        She shivers uncontrollably in her nightgown. For a split second she hesitates, her brain suddenly whirring about the time when she broke down while playing soccer with Jacian, after the last time she sat at NicoÒs desk. What if sheÒs making a mistakeØ
        ÓNo!Ô she shouts in the dark room, shoving the memory aside. She has to save Nico × she has to. She brushes her fingers over the desk, teasingly, around the space where the graffiti changes, before she places her hand over it, absorbing its medicine. In the dark she canÒt read what it says, but the whispers tell her everything.
        Harsh and wild, full of venom, the voice demands. The graffiti sears, electrocutes her fingers.
        Find me before they kill me!
        Deep in the woods beyond CryerÒs Pass.
        Hurry! Save my soul!
        Kendall gasps and whips her hand away, her fingers still burning. ÓNico,Ô she says to the harsh voice, Ówhy are you talking to me like thatØÔ
        But there is no answer.
        And he is in danger.
        Kendall knows she must go.
        She stumbles back downstairs, out the cellar door, and down the road. All of CryerÒs Cross is asleep.
        Her nightgown whips around her body, the wind piercing through the thin fabric. Her feet are cold, bare inside her boots, and she begins to run, guided by newfound instinct, the voice inside her buzzing approval. She holds her bag of tools close to her chest. When she passes HectorÒs ranch, she turns to cut the corner, out of sight of his house, and then she heads down the path she took on horseback with
        Jacian. She follows the path for a short way until it branches, and then she takes the other branch and runs, runs as fast as she can, stumbling, teeth chattering, skin burning and itching from the wind. Her legs ache, unaccustomed to running in her boots.
        After what seems like an hour at a solid jog, Kendall reaches CryerÒs Pass, a road for quads and horses that winds up the ridge. Her side aches. Instead of taking the pass, she turns abruptly into the woods, still running, jumping over bushes and roots and vines until she trips and goes sprawling, landing on her bag. The hedge clippers pierce through the canvas and gouge a hole in her upper arm. She sits a moment, stunned, catching her breath, but thereÒs no time to look at it, no time to stop the bleeding.
        Kendall gets back to her feet and staggers through the woods. ÓNico!Ô she shouts. ÓNico, where are youØÔ
        She starts to run again, but soon running becomes impossible, so she presses on slowly, awkwardly, painfully, through brush and forest so thick that she nearly has to climb trees and swing from vines to get through. ÓNico!Ô she screams. The voice in her head grows stronger. Find me before he kills me! Thirtyfive, one hundred!
        Her legs and arms sting from scratches. She stumbles and catches herself, weak from not eating, strong from the voices that possess her. When she can go no farther, she pulls the clippers from the bag and starts tearing at ivy and branches, clipping and pulling them out of her way. She finds a spot that gives way. Squeezes and chops and pushes and clamps the clippers together until they clang against something metal. ÓNico!Ô she screams. ÓNico!Ô

        WE
        The heat, the life. Thirty-five, one hundred. Your heartbeat pounds in Our ears. ÓCome now!Ô We cry out, a piece of Us within you now. This victim, the most troublesome. Here. Now. Ready to redeem, release another lost soul. Thirty-fiveØ
        No.
        ONE HUNDRED.

        TWENTY-FOUR
        She stumbles as she tries to slide through the slit she made in the ivy and vines between rusted iron rungs. She makes it through, finally, and scrambles to her feet, looking around in the eerie night glow.
        There are fewer trees here. Smaller ones. And itÒs not quite so overgrown. With the light of a halfmoon, Kendall makes out a large crumbling building away to her left, and a small broken-down shack nearer to her. She pulls out her flashlight and shines it around. SheÒs in a sort of courtyard, but itÒs completely sealed off, even from the buildings, by an iron fence. Fog pockets rest in the valleys just beyond the yard. A bird squawks and settles. She hears the creaking of the trees, the rustling of other animals.
        To the right, two dozen white markers stand in the ground. Kendall staggers, feeling herself being pulled toward them by the power of the voice inside her. She resists at first, confused, but then her body jerks into obedience. Her legs are heavy. She drags herself drunkenly across the dirt and brush.
        The voice commands her. ÓStart digging,Ô she whispers, startled, echoing it. ÓStart diggingØ WhereØ
        WhereØÔ She pulls the shovel from her bag, and it leads her to the middle of the courtyard, where the crosses stand. ÓNico!Ô she screams. ÓWhere are youØÔ She has lost all control of her body. She pushes twigs and leaves aside with her boots, clearing a space.
        Then she lifts the shovel and slams the point of it into the dirt in front of one of the markers. Her cold hands ache from the impact ricocheting off her bones, it seems, but she lifts and slams again, breaking the ground, beginning to dig, unable to stop herself. She piles the dirt carefully next to the hole and strikes again.
        After a few minutes her punctured arm really hurts. Her hands shake. ÓNico!Ô she calls out again. Her voice rings out, unanswered. She starts crying now, and screams louder for him, over and over as she piles the dirt high. Her back aches. She shivers, teeth rattling, and plunges the shovel into the hard dirt again. Again. Again.
        When she hits bone, scooping a piece out with her shovel, she knows she has dug far enough. She knows now what she has to do, what the voice is forcing her to do in order to save Nico. She falls to her knees, hoarse but still screaming out his name. ÓIÒm here to save you!Ô she cries. ÓNico, help me!Ô
        She sits down in the shallow grave she just dug. Reaches for the piles of dirt, drawing her arms around them and pulling them over her. Covering her feet and legs.
        She watches herself in horror. Part of her canÒt believe sheÒs doing it, and part of her canÒt get it done fast enough.
        She is burying herself alive.
        And she canÒt stop.
        Slowly and methodically, simultaneously horrified and glorified by the process, she covers her body with dirt. She begins to chant. ÓHelp me. Save my soul. Help me. Save my soul.Ô Her chants turn to cries as she covers her thighs, her midsection. The dirt insulates her, warms her. Calms her shaking, but not her cries. She lies back and covers her chest. Her neck. She screams for Nico. Screams until her voice becomes muffled by the layer of dirt she pushes over her own face. All that remains aboveground is her hand.
        And then × as the half-moon dips behind the broken-down building × all, everyone, everything is quiet once again in the graveyard of the CryerÒs Reform School for Delinquent Boys.
        A trapped soul waits for redemption.
        It waits. And waits.
        For her to take her last breath.

        TWENTY-FIVE
        It is still dark when the dirt stirs.
        Kendall, struggling for air, feels something edging at her mind. She knows something feels terribly wrong about all of this. She knows from the voices that she must go through all of this to save Nico, but where is heØ And how could this possibly help himØ Her OCD brain churns, and the single thought slips in. This is wrong. This is wrong. She starts to count now. Counts the heartbeats, counts the pebbles in her mouth, counts the minutes as they pass. Some of the fog in her head clears. Enough. Just enough.
        Enough to struggle.
        The grasp, the hold of the voice weakens. Just enough. And with KendallÒs one remaining free arm, she pushes the layer of dirt from her face, spits out the gravel from her mouth, and gives one last rasping cry before she passes out. ÓJacian.Ô
        The voice in her head × not NicoÒs, never NicoÒs × cries out as if in pain.

        TWENTY-SIX
        In the morning it rains.
        The water washes dirt from her eyes.
        The voice remains, crying out to her, but she knows now that itÒs not Nico. She fights the voice with her own weapon, her own tool. The whirring thoughts are welcomed. She holds the power.
        She canÒt move at first. The rain makes the grave cover like a straitjacket, like wide belts holding her in.
        She can only turn her head. Cough the dirt out.
        In the rainy morning light she sees more clearly now. Thinks more clearly. The markers, white crosses.
        The bones her boots are touching are old. This place, so forlorn. Abandoned. Stuck in a different time.
        The only sound is rain on leaves, rain on dirt, rain on skin.
        All the events of the previous day start coming back to her as she surfaces and takes back control of her senses. Clears the fuzz in her brain. ÓOh my God!Ô she cries out. ÓWhat is happeningØÔ She panics and begins to struggle. The horror of what nearly happened, the claustrophobia, being submerged in wet dirt, gives her the superhuman strength she needs to push out from under it. She grips the side of the grave and pulls, heaves herself to her stomach, coughing.
        Her throat hurts and sheÒs freezing, filthy, covered in scratches and bruises. She lifts her head and looks around the overgrown yard, seeing all the crosses now.
        Twenty-four of them.
        Lined up in four equal quadrants.
        With aisles between each section.
        In the two spots next to Kendall, the dirt is somewhat fresher. Raised up. She looks closer and sees a decomposing hand sticking out from one and bones from the other. She crawls to the one closest and starts digging.
        Long brown hair comes away in her hand × itÒs not Nico. Could it be TiffanyØ
        Kendall becomes increasingly aware of the stench in the graveyard.
        She dry heaves off to the side, and crawls over to the other grave. Looks at the decomposing hand, wipes her eyes and looks again. The tissue wavers before her eyes. And then she sees why.
        Maggots.
        She turns, gagging from the sight and smell, gagging again from all the dirt drying out her throat.
        She begins digging with what little strength she has left, her fingers bleeding. ÓPlease no, please no, please no,Ô she cries softly, over and over.
        She scrapes the dirt away. Brushes it from his black, bloated face, his white-blond hair confirming her worst fear.
        ÓNo!Ô Her cry rasps from deep inside her chest. She falls away onto her back, sobbing, until she has nothing else left. She rolls as far away as she can before sheÒs too exhausted to move.
        She lies there, quiet, no longer feeling cold or pain. No longer caring.


        Nico is dead.
        As the rain slows and the hours tick forward into evening, there is a noise.
        ÓKendall!Ô she hears. It seems so far away.
        She is delusional. Too weak to shout. ÓNicoØÔ She rasps. Rain puddles around her. Everything is dark.
        Someone picks her up, wraps a coat around her, carries her like a baby. She hears more voices far away, exclaiming in horror.
        They move quickly. A branch slaps her face, and she startles.
        ÓShit, sorry,Ô he says.
        ÓJacian,Ô she whispers. Her chest sears in pain with every breath. She struggles in his arms.
        ÓSit tight. WeÒve got a ways to go.Ô
        ÓTheyÒre dead.Ô
        ÓYes.Ô He jiggles her as he breaks into a jog, leaving the thickest woods behind. And eventually, back on the path at CryerÒs Pass, he hoists her up onto his four-runner and glides in next to her, holding her around the shoulders, helping her sit up. Takes off toward the ranch. ÓIÒm sorry,Ô he says. ÓItÒs going to be bumpy here for a bit.Ô
        ÓHow did you find meØÔ She leans into him, too cold to shiver. Too tired to open her eyes. Her throat feels like she swallowed broken glass.
        He pulls the coat tightly around her and holds her as he drives. His mouth is close, warm near her ear.
        ÓThey called the search first thing this morning when your parents noticed you were gone, around five.
        Soon after, everybody rolled into town. WeÒre getting too good at this.Ô He adjusts his grip on KendallÒs shoulder and steps on the gas as they approach a clearing.
        ÓI remembered what you said about the desk,Ô he continues. ÓYeah, it was weird, but I would have tried anything at that point. IÒm so pissed at myself for not. . Oh hell, never mind.Ô He scowls, but she doesnÒt see it. ÓSo, anyway, I went to school to look for clues. Old Mr. Greenwood let me in. I sat at the desk, read all the graffiti. In the middle it said ÑDeep in the woods beyond CryerÒs Pass.Ò I almost didnÒt think it would mean anything because the carvings looked so old, but I mentioned it to my grandfather, and he almost fainted. He called the sheriff and old Mr. Greenwood. They took the truck out here, but it got caught in the vines trying to drive over. So weÒre going this way.Ô
        His voice sounds far away, and the voice of the desk doesnÒt leave her. Everything in her brain is mud.
        ÓDonÒt let them bury me,Ô she says.
        ÓOh, Kendall.Ô His voice breaks. ÓDid somebody do this to youØ Did anyone touch youØÔ
        She shakes her head. ÓNo. ItÒs just the voices. They made me. . do things. . Ô She lets a sob escape, and then explodes into a racking cough.
        ÓVoicesØ You mean. .,Ô he says slowly, Óyou heard something, when you touched the deskØÔ
        ÓYes, the voices.Ô Kendall grips her throat as it burns.
        ÓShh. . You can explain once we get you to the hospital.Ô
        They reach HectorÒs ranch, and Jacian pulls the quad up next to the barn. He carries Kendall to his truck, starts it up to get the heat flowing, and then picks up the barn phone to make a quick call to
        KendallÒs parents.
        ÓIÒve got her. SheÒs alive. IÒm taking her to Bozeman Hospital. ItÒs faster than waiting on an ambulance.
        Is that okayØ. . Good. SheÒs talking, but sheÒs been out in the rain all night and day.Ô
        He listens for a moment and then says, ÓSee you there.Ô
        He rushes into the truck and takes off down the road, the heater on full blast. He slides Kendall over to him and cradles his arm around her. Halfway to Bozeman sheÒs shivering. Jacian says thatÒs a good sign.
        He pulls up to the emergency room and carries her inside, grabbing an empty wheelchair and the first person in scrubs that he sees. ÓHey, man, sheÒs freezing. Soaking wet,Ô he says, setting Kendall down in the wheelchair. The orderly hesitates, glances at the waiting room and then at KendallÒs blue lips, and takes her away. Someone at the desk hands Jacian a clipboard with forms on it. He stares at it blankly.
        Carries it to the entrance to meet Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher. Tells them everything he knows as they fill out the paperwork.
        For a moment Jacian just stands there looking down the long, bustling hallway, thinking, catching his breath before it all catches up to him. And then he turns and goes out to park the truck.
        And to get a grip on things before he loses it.

        TWENTY-SEVEN
        ItÒs pneumonia, probably some dirt inhaled into her lungs, and the cold rain didnÒt help. Kendall spends the first day with a high fever, in and out of consciousness. Not caring what is happening, only mourning around the edges of reality. Her best friend in all the world, the boy who knew her best, the guy who wanted to be a nurse so he could help people feel better, is dead. And he died in a horrible way.
        Part of her knew he had to be dead. When Eli said it at the ObregonsÒ party, she believed he was probably right. But the desk. . his voice. ItÒs still killing her.
        When she wakes up, her mother is there, reading by the bed, her half-glasses near the tip of her nose.
        ThereÒs another bed in the room, but itÒs empty.
        ÓHey, Mom,Ô Kendall says in a gravelly voice, and cringes. There are oxygen tubes in her nostrils, and her throat is raw, burning. An IV is attached to one arm, and stitches poke from the other where the clippers stabbed her. Her legs and arms, even her stomach is covered with scratches and bruises.
        Mrs. Fletcher sits up quickly, puts her book on the table, and a smile spreads across her face.
        ÓKendall,Ô she says. ÓHowÒs my girlØÔ
        Kendall points to her throat and makes a sad face.
        Mrs. Fletcher reaches for a glass of water and feeds the straw into KendallÒs mouth.
        Kendall sucks on the straw, feeling the cool water soothe her throat.
        ÓDo you want a pen and some paperØÔ Mrs. Fletcher rummages through her purse.
        Kendall doesnÒt have any energy to write, but then she nods anyway. Why notØ Turns out she has a few burning questions, once sheÒs fully awake.
        ÓNico died,Ô she writes.
        Mrs. Fletcher presses her fingers to her lips as she thinks about how to say things. ÓTheyÒre both. . dead. Did you know thatØÔ
        Kendall nods. Tears well up in her eyes. She knew it, but hearing her mother say it out loud makes it feel true.
        ÓTheyÒre exhuming the bodies for autopsy. The Quinns and the Cruzes are going to have proper burials and a memorial service in the cemetery behind the church in a few days. And now everybodyÒs trying to find out who murdered them, who buried them there. And why. Honey,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says in earnest, her voice filled with worry and dread, Ódo you remember who did this to youØ How did you. . he. .Ô She canÒt say it. ÓThe police are going to talk to you again.Ô Her voice breaks, and she grabs a tissue.
        Kendall isnÒt sure what to say. She writes on her notepad, ÓI donÒt really remember anything.Ô She doesnÒt like lying, but if she tells the truth, she knows theyÒll put her away.
        Mrs. Fletcher reaches down and hugs Kendall tightly. ÓItÒs okay, baby. Just tell the police what you remember and thatÒs all you have to do.Ô
        Kendall nods.
        When Sheriff Greenwood comes, he brings a small entourage with him × old Mr. Greenwood and
        Hector Morales, who stand outside the door to her room, not looking in.


        ÓI brought you some visitors if youÒre up for it,Ô the sheriff says to Kendall.
        Kendall nods.
        ÓMrs. Fletcher, can I speak to you in privateØÔ
        ÓOf course.Ô Mrs. Fletcher gives KendallÒs knee a comforting squeeze through the blankets. Then she follows the sheriff.
        When the two go off to the waiting room to talk, Hector and old Mr. Greenwood enter KendallÒs room.
        ItÒs weird to have them here.
        ÓMiss Kendall,Ô Hector says. He holds his cowboy hat in hand. ÓIÒm so sorry for your pain.Ô
        Kendall nods, saving her voice.
        ÓHow are youØÔ
        She shrugs. Whispers, ÓOkay.Ô
        ÓThis seems strange, doesnÒt itØ But we are here for good reason. I need to tell you a story about one of my friends.Ô
        Puzzled, Kendall just looks at them, from one face to the other, wondering whatÒs up. She nods and points at the chairs, inviting them to sit.
        Once settled, Hector glances tentatively at old Mr. Greenwood, who sits down in the other bedside chair. He presses his lips together in a white line and stares at the floor.
        Hector weaves his fingers together in his lap and gazes into his cupped hands as if heÒs searching for the right words to spill forth. And then, after a few false starts, he tells a story from a long time ago. A story about a boy named Piere who was sent to live at the CryerÒs Reform School for Delinquent Boys.
        He tells about the poor conditions there, and the terrible treatment the boys received, how one night this boy Piere had to sleep on his stomach because his back was in shreds, oozing with blood and pus from being whipped by the headmaster. How PiereÒs best friend, Samuel, was sent for a whipping the next night, and Piere snuck out to the little white shack to watch through the crack in the door, knowing that if he were caught, heÒd be punished again. But not caring. He needed to be there for his friend.
        Piere watched the headmaster, Horace Cryer, bring down the whip again and again on SamuelÒs back and thighs as the boy braced himself, back arched, over the whipping desk. He watched SamuelÒs welts grow and turn grayish purple, the blood just under the skin, and then exploding red on the next hit when the skin broke, the blood spraying through the air, all over the walls.
        Piere counted, knowing there were only two kinds of beatings from Mr. Cryer. Thirty-five lashes for minor disobedience. One hundred for everything else. . and sometimes for no reason at all.
        When Mr. Cryer didnÒt stop at thirty-five, PiereÒs stomach clenched. After several more lashes, the silent Samuel let out a bloodcurdling scream, which only drove Mr. Cryer to bring the whip down harder.
        Piere watched as SamuelÒs elbows slipped off the desk, his chest and cheek smashing against it, beads of blood on his lower lip. He watched his friendÒs eyes roll back and close.
        Piere clutched his shirt in agony, tearing his own oozing sores open again, and then he stumbled blindly away, back to his bunk.
        He never saw Samuel again.


        Hector looks up at Kendall. SheÒs gripping the bed sheets, staring at him. The eerie numbers, thirty-five and one hundred. The whipping desk. . She tries to say something, chokes, drinks some water and tries again. ÓThatÒs a horrible story,Ô she says. ÓIs it trueØÔ
        Hector nods. ÓYes. I am sorry I had to tell it.Ô
        ÓIs that place. . is that where I wasØÔ
        ÓYes.Ô
        She bites her lip, thinking about Samuel. ÓYou talked about a desk.Ô
        HectorÒs eyes glisten. His face screws up in anger, remorse. He nods. ÓThe whipping desk. All the desks in your classroom came from the reform school. The state brought them over when they opened your school.Ô
        Kendall just stares.
        ÓAnd when Jacian told me what you said when he found you. . I am not superstitious,Ô he says, shaking his finger, Óbut I knew they should have left it there to rot. There was evil there in that place, on those grounds. Evil in the heart of Horace Cryer.Ô
        Old Mr. Greenwood sits stone-faced, listening like he can hardly bear to hear it, denying nothing.
        ÓMr. Cryer beat us all multiple times over that desk,Ô Hector says. ÓMany of our friends were murdered by him. We didnÒt know what he did with the bodies. We werenÒt allowed beyond the gate. But now we know. . now we know. There are so many crosses.Ô
        Hector pulls a handkerchief from his coat pocket and mops his face with it, grieving all over again. ÓYou have to understand, we had no one. All of us either orphans or abandoned as hopeless delinquents, like me. Who would listen to usØ We never talked about it, never told anyone. We only wanted to forget.Ô He dabs the corners of his eyes. ÓMake new lives once we got out.Ô
        Kendall remains silently horrified as she tries to comprehend. The souls of the dead boys. . beaten into the deskØ Trapped there, angry, their business undone. . stuck away in storage all these years, only to be set free whenever they found a body to go intoØ It was impossible. No one would believe it. Yet here she was, with two of the most respected people of CryerÒs Cross, and neither was denying it.
        ÓWe know about the voice,Ô old Mr. Greenwood says abruptly, surprising everyone. Then he glances at
        Kendall, measuring her. ÓIf you repeat this, I will deny it. But I have heard the whisper too.Ô
        KendallÒs eyes spring open wide. ÓYou haveØÔ
        He nods and looks back at the floor, as if he canÒt look her in the eye. ÓI didnÒt know where it came from. DidnÒt pay attention to that desk in particular as I shoved the desks around.Ô He wipes his eyes with his hand. ÓThirty-five, one hundred, buzzing around my ears, those numbers taunting me. I thought it was me. I thought I was going senile. Post-traumatic stress or something. The voice sounded like. . like
        Samuel.Ô
        ÓIt said things to me in NicoÒs voice,Ô Kendall whispers. ÓTiffany and Nico both sat at that desk.Ô
        ÓYes, Jacian told me. WeÒve pieced it together,Ô Hector says. ÓHe said he heard whispers when he touched it too.Ô Hector looks up, out the open door to the empty hallway. ÓThe sheriff will be coming back soon. He knows of our hunch about the desk, but he doesnÒt know what to believe, doesnÒt want to commit to a story so unnatural. I donÒt blame him × two old coots like us with a crazy hunch. But weÒre going to remove that desk. Not to worry.Ô


        Kendall nods. ÓThank you.Ô She is flooded with relief, so glad she is no longer alone in this.
        ÓHeÒs going to ask you what you remember. ItÒs up to you what you want to say when he asks you questions. But as far as the people of CryerÒs Cross and the national news networks know, weÒre all now looking for an elusive kidnapper and murderer.Ô He pauses, and his voice softens. ÓMaybe itÒs best, for your sake, if it stays that way.Ô
        Kendall sinks back into the pillows, feeling a little light-headed.
        When the sheriff comes in with Mrs. Fletcher, Hector smiles at Kendall and squeezes her hand.
        ÓThank you for visiting, gentlemen,Ô Mrs. Fletcher says to the men. ÓIt means a lot that you came to see her.Ô
        Hector tips his hat. ÓMiss Kendall is a special girl, a good friend to me and my grandchildren,Ô he says, old eyes shining. ÓShe is like family.Ô He gets to his feet, and old Mr. Greenwood moves to do the same.
        Hector looks at him and holds out a hand. ÓReadyØÔ
        ÓI donÒt need your help,Ô Old Mr. Greenwood grumbles.

        TWENTY-EIGHT
        She told the sheriff that she didnÒt remember anything, only that she felt like sheÒd been drugged, not in control of her actions. Tests couldnÒt confirm any drugs in her body, but the reporters got anonymously tipped off nonetheless.
        She sits in the hospital still, three days later, the small stream of visitors having dissipated. The local
        TV news is on, and Kendall is watching people arrive for the burial service for Nico and Tiffany. ItÒs a big deal for southwest Montana. ItÒd be a big deal anywhere. Maybe seventy or eighty strangers mill around the grave site, those oddities whoÒd gotten sucked in by the story and feel, in some unexplainable way, connected to the two missing teens. ItÒs weird to see them. But even weirder to see people she knows and sees every day, standing so solemnly, all dressed up. She sees NicoÒs and TiffanyÒs extended families up front, the camera invading their grief.
        She sees her own parents, looking older than what she thinks them to be. She sees the Greenwoods and the Shanks arriving with some of the other people of CryerÒs Cross, and sheÒs struck by how horribly often the little town has had to gather all at once like this over the past five months, stopping everything for another tragedy, then trudging onward with life.
        The caskets hang suspended over the graves in plot sections that have no patriarchs, no matriarchs.
        Teenagers arenÒt supposed to die. Kendall pulls an extra pillow to her chest and hugs it, wondering why on earth she convinced her mother to go to the memorial and leave her here alone during this.
        She sees Hector and the Obregons. Marlena in a black dress, Jacian in a dark suit with a white shirt, no tie. They find seats, and Jacian jiggles his foot up and down as they wait for it to begin. And finally it does.
        A few minutes into it, the TV news anchor cuts in and brings breaking news of something else, a fire downtown or something, and the service is gone. Kendall turns off the TV and stares at the ceiling, remembering Nico in her own private way. His smile, the light in his eyes. How heÒd do anything for her, and she for him.
        She thinks about their romance, how it came as a by-product, an experiment in their friendship. Their parents always talked about them being together forever. It was just a given as they grew up.
        She thinks about how she never really felt comfortable calling him her boyfriend until after he was gone.
        He was in love with her, she knew. But she just loved him. It wasnÒt the same. He was such a good person that she knew she should be in love with him. Who wouldnÒtØ But there was no passion. It was sweet, she realizes now, and thatÒs all it was. She thinks about what was special with them. How kissing him wasnÒt all that important. But loyaltyØ Loyalty was everything.
        The tears stream down her face for the goodness that Nico was. For the memories she will never forget. For all the times he stood up for her, the only girl in their class, and for all the times she beat him honestly, at soccer or tests or a footrace down to the river. She cries for all the people he wonÒt get to help, for the diploma heÒll never earn, for his parents and family, who will never be the same again. For the hole in her heart left by the loss of a best friend.
        And then she cries for the way he died. She knows what he went through, and she can only hope he was so under the influence of the possessed souls in the desk that he didnÒt know what horror he was doing to himself. She wonders whose voice he heard. Maybe it was TiffanyÒs. HeÒd be the guy to want to save someone in trouble, thereÒs no doubt about that. SheÒll never know the answer to that one.
        It was the OCD that saved her. She knows that. And as much as she hates how it rules and ruins her everyday life, she vows that she will never complain about it again.


        SheÒs sitting up in a chair, showered and slightly exhausted from the effort, but still wishing she could just bust out of the hospital × when the phone rings. She shuffles over to it and answers, her voice still husky but no longer sore from all the beatings it took.
        ÓHello,Ô she says.
        ÓHey.Ô
        Her stomach twists. ÓHey. . How are youØÔ
        ItÒs quiet on the line, and for a minute Kendall thinks Jacian might have hung up. But then he speaks.
        ÓIÒm fine. IÒm. . I just wondered if you were doing okay. Is this a bad timeØÔ
        ÓNo. I mean, yes, IÒm doing okay. No, itÒs not a bad time.Ô She sits down on the edge of the bed. ÓI saw you on TV, at the memorial service. . Ô
        ÓYeahØÔ
        ÓYeah, it wasnÒt on for long before they cut to the next tragedy, though. You looked nice.Ô
        ÓThanks. Look, KendallØÔ he sounds anxious.
        ÓYesØÔ
        ÓIÒm sorry to bother you. I know this is a tough time for you, with Nico and all, and you probably donÒt want to see me. But IÒve just been thinking about you. . God. All the time. Do you mind if I come up to your roomØÔ
        Kendall blinks. ÓWhere are youØÔ
        ÓIn the lobby.Ô He sounds miserable.
        KendallÒs stomach drops to the floor. She swallows hard. ÓI look. . pretty terrible. Bruises, scratches.
        . I guess youÒve seen that already, though.Ô
        ÓIf you donÒt want me to come up, thatÒs cool. It was just an impulsive thing. I went for a drive after the service and ended up here. I can go.Ô
        ÓNo! I mean, please. Come up. I was just, you know, warning you. IÒm in four sixteen.Ô
        There is silence. An intake of breath. And then, ÓIÒm on the way.Ô
        Kendall hangs up the phone. She dashes to the bathroom and checks her hair, shakes it in front of her face to try to hide the scratches, but it only makes her look worse, so she smoothes it back again. She slips into her robe. A moment later she hears a soft knock on the door.
        She takes a deep breath and opens it.
        He walks in.
        Stands there hesitantly for a minute, still wearing his suit from the memorial service, shirt untucked, black hair disheveled from the wind. He takes her in from toe to head. His eyes land on hers and stay there. And he says softly, ÓYou donÒt look terrible.Ô
        Her stomach flips over, scares her.
        He goes to her, opens his arms, and she wraps hers around his neck, feels the chill of the evening on his jacket.


        They hold each other gently, thoughts rushing through their minds, memories of when he found her.
        She buries her face in his neck. ÓThank you for saving my life,Ô she says. ÓThat was really scary.Ô From nowhere and everywhere, the sobs come.
        He runs his hand over her hair and swallows hard. ÓYou did it yourself,Ô he says. ÓI donÒt know how you did that. How you did what Tiffany and Nico couldnÒt do. But you saved yourself,Ô he murmurs. ÓYou did it.
        All you.Ô
        ÓI would have frozen to death out there without you.Ô
        He holds her tighter. ÓIÒm so sorry,Ô he whispers. He presses his lips to her hair.
        Everything inside her body melts.
        She is chocolate in his fist.

        WE
        We scream but the noise is lost. No listeners remain. A sliver of Us is gone, trapped, dormant inside the life. Ancient heat hovers at the edges of Our face, manhandling Us, bumping and shoving, away, away. Perhaps now We will find heat, life anew. We settle. And once again, We wait.

        TWENTY-NINE
        SheÒs nervous her first day going back to school. She waits by the cold window, fogging it up with her breath, until she sees the truck. Then she kisses her mother and father good-bye. They wave and go back to their newspapers and coffee × a small reward, a luxury for another harvest completed.
        Jacian pushes the door open for her from the inside, and she hops in. He turns the truck around and takes off down the driveway.
        ÓWhereÒs MarlenaØÔ
        ÓSheÒs been hitching a ride with Eli the past few days. They hung out after the memorial service, and I think maybe theyÒve got a little thing going.Ô He glances sidelong at her.
        She grins. ÓHow cool! EliÒs a sweet guy. ThatÒs perfect.Ô
        He shrugs. ÓI donÒt know. Little things are overrated if you ask me.Ô
        ÓI see.Ô
        ÓYeah, itÒs sort of all or nothing with me. Yep.Ô
        KendallÒs eyes narrow. ÓIÒm feeling an urge to smack you again.Ô
        ÓOoh,Ô he says. He slows the truck.
        ÓNo! We have to get to school. No time for that now.Ô
        ÓRight. My bad.Ô
        ÓPlease just tell me somebody straightened the desks while I was gone.Ô
        ÓSure. I did.Ô
        ÓYou did that for meØÔ
        He looks at her like sheÒs nuts. ÓUm. . no. IÒm not that good.Ô
        ÓOh. Ha, ha.Ô Kendall takes a deep breath and lets it out. ÓGod, IÒm nervous to go back in there.Ô
        Jacian pulls into the parking lot, takes her hand, kisses it, and peers at her through his thick lashes.
        ÓYou can do it.Ô
        ItÒs weird being here again. She walks in and looks around. Turns the wastebasket, straightens the markers. Opens the curtains and checks the locks, whispering, ÓAll checked and good.Ô
        Then she looks at the desks.
        TheyÒre all there. Twenty-four of them. She breaks from her usual pattern and goes first to the senior section. Stops at NicoÒs place. Jacian watches her quietly.
        ÓItÒs a different desk,Ô she says.
        ÓYes.Ô
        ÓIÒve never seen this one before.Ô She draws her fingers across the graffiti carefully, ready to pull back at the first whisper. But nothing happens. ItÒs just a desk. ÓIÒm glad they replaced it. It would look wrong if there was a hole in this spot.Ô
        ÓI mentioned that,Ô Jacian says. He walks over to her. ÓItÒs from the storage room. I said I thought it would be less conspicuous to the other students if they put a new one here, that you and I would be the only ones who noticed the switch.Ô
        She nods, deep in thought. She turns, searching his face, his eyes. ÓHector says you heard the whispers too.Ô
        He nods. ÓI did. I thought it was my mind messing with me. But then I remembered the way you wrapped yourself around the desk whenever you sat there.Ô He touches her arm. ÓI held my hand to it for longer than I want to admit. I couldnÒt stop. It almost had me too, Kendall.Ô
        Kendall bites her lip. ÓWhose voice did you hearØÔ
        He swallows hard. Touches her face. ÓYours.Ô
        After school Jacian and Kendall drive to the church graveyard. Little bits of snow fall to the graying ground. Kendall gets out of the truck and walks slowly to the grave site, Jacian holding back, giving her some space. She stares at the fresh dirt and shudders with cold and memories, memories of his decomposing face that she knows sheÒll never forget.
        She fights the demanding thoughts that want to swirl around her head. Instead she forces new ones, remembering the good times with the best friend anybody could ever have. She beckons over her shoulder and reaches for Jacian, threads her arm around his waist. He slips his hand to her shoulder, absently weaving his fingers through her hair as they silently pay their respects together.
        She is out of tears.
        She kneels by the grave as the snow falls on it. Closes her eyes and pictures him, long blond hair swishing around his head, that grin. She smiles back at him. ÓIÒll miss you,Ô she whispers. ÓGood-bye, Nico.Ô
        At HectorÒs that evening, Jacian and Kendall sit around the table with a computer and catalogs, researching.
        ÓThereÒs NYUÒs Tisch in New York,Ô Jacian says. ÓOr FSU Dance. ThatÒs Florida. What about
        HartfordØÔ
        Kendall pages through the options. ÓThereÒs a lot of dance schools,Ô she admits.
        ÓSan Diego, Ohio, or hey, maybe University of Arizona. ThatÒs down where we used to live.Ô
        ÓNo potatoesØÔ
        Jacian smiles. ÓNo potatoes. Lemons, limes, avocados. Horses nearby.Ô
        ÓI like horses. Hate potatoes.Ô
        He squeezes her thigh. ÓYouÒll have a lot of excellent choices once you pull your grades up again.Ô
        Kendall sighs. ÓYeah. I guess spending all that time ignoring everything wasnÒt such a good idea, gradewise.Ô
        ÓHey,Ô he says. He turns her chin so he can look into her eyes. ÓYou survived it.Ô


        She nods.
        ÓLetÒs go take a break.Ô
        They slip their jackets on and step out onto the porch. ItÒs bone cold outside. Jacian leans against the railing and pulls Kendall to him. He kisses her softly. She leans into him and holds him, feeling the shape of his body through his shirt, his heartbeat against hers. She counts the beats lazily, more as a comfort than a compulsion.
        ÓI smell a bonfire,Ô Kendall says after a while.
        ÓMmm-hmm.Ô
        ÓWant to walkØ Go check it outØÔ
        ÓSure.Ô
        They walk hand in hand until they can see the flames, hear the crackle. Hector and old Mr. Greenwood hold shovels. The firelight against their bodies makes huge jumping shadows along the tree line behind them. The carcass of the desk stands on metal legs, fire licking, angry smoke erupting from it.
        Jacian and Kendall approach with caution, and then they watch, silent alongside the solemn-faced men thinking about the boys who died on that desk so many years ago, and the students who died this year because of it.
        Kendall clears her throat. ÓWhatever happened to the boy in the storyØ PiereØÔ she asks.
        Hector pulls himself from his thoughts and glances at old Mr. Greenwood, who frowns mightily at the fire. ÓHe made it,Ô Hector says softly. ÓHe did himself proud.Ô
        When the wooden desktop collapses in on itself and shudders in the ashes, Kendall feels a rush of cold escape her lungs and hears a faint drawn-out scream.
        But then itÒs gone again.

        WE
        We feel the heat, and for a moment, We believe! Life is back. But this heat is intense, not gentle. Not submissive but searing. Painful.
        We moan, scream, Our face cracking like gunfire. . like a whip. Thirty-five, one hundred. One hundred! ONE HUNDRED!
        The fire consumes Our wooden host. It burns, breaks, explodes. Releases Our remaining souls to travel to Our final resting places.
        Or.
        To find new places to hide.
        And wait.
        Touch me.