Part 4 (1/2)
She ignored my words. ”Yeah, I imagine you're feeling the boredom something fierce.”
I started for the door again.
”But then, you always have your boyfriend Marc. And oh yes, the new guy, Lance - we can't forget him. Weren't you with him at the game Friday night?”
I stiffened, and then turned back to her. ”Jeannie, I meant to talk to you about the other night. I wasn't going to-”
She held up her hand. ”Emili, you always did underestimate me,” she said. ”But no need for explanations. I'm not your mother confessor. Tell it to Marc.”
She smiled ever-so-sweetly and paraded right past me out of the bathroom.
Oh my word.
The rest of the day was endless. I see-sawed between worrying about Farah and feeling like slime because of Marc. When I went to the bathroom during sixth period, I tried texting Farah again. Still nothing.
My head hurt. I even felt my forehead to see if I had a fever - which was lame, because I knew having a fever had nothing to do with it.
At the end of the day, I burst through the school doors and called Farah the second I got outside. It went straight to voice mail. ”Where are you?” I asked. ”Why aren't you answering? I'm going to kill you for this. I'm getting freaked out.”
I figured Farah's mom would know where she was. I knew my mom had Mrs. Menins's cell number, so I called her at work. ”I need to talk with Farah,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. ”Her phone's messed up so can you give me her mom's cell?”
”Isn't Farah at school?” Mom asked.
”I think she's sick, and I want to check on her.”
”Give me a sec,” Mom said. Then, ”Okay, got it. It's 765-3129. Honey, if she's sick, maybe you shouldn't call. You don't want to disturb her.”
”I'll only talk a minute. Thanks.”
I started to punch in Mrs. Menins's number, then froze. Farah would never in this lifetime want me to call her mother. Mrs. Menins was, well, less than nice. What if Farah was skipping school, and I called asking where she was? Farah would dump me faster than all of her old boyfriends put together.
I tucked my phone away, but a bad feeling pressed on me. I should be doing something; I just didn't know what.
Maybe Lance would know where Farah was. I glanced at the crowds hanging by the doors. Since Lance was tall, he'd be easy to spot.
The thought of him made my heart begin to dance. Worry for Farah was edged out by delicious memories of kissing Lance. This was the ideal excuse to talk to him. It wouldn't be like I was stalking him - it'd only be one friend asking about another. Perfect.
While this parade of thoughts marched through my head, I caught a glimpse of him. Somehow I'd missed him at the door because he was already heading down the sidewalk towards town. He was beautiful, walking tall and easy, his hands swaying loosely at his sides.
”Lance,” I called and started running after him. ”Lance!”
He slowed and turned around. When he saw me, he tipped his head and narrowed his eyes, hiking his backpack higher on his shoulders. I ran too quickly and nearly slammed into him. I put my arm out to stop myself and ended up grasping his solid bicep. Jerking my hand back, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.
Lance grinned. ”Well, Cecily, nice to see you, and alone this time.”
”Uh, hi, Lance.”
”Need something?”
I was breathing hard, and standing so close to him didn't help. ”Have you seen Farah?” I asked.
”Haven't seen her all day.”
”She didn't come to school, and she's not answering my texts.”
”Maybe she doesn't want to answer.”
”This is Farah. She always wants to answer. I'm worried.”
Lance s.h.i.+fted his weight from one foot to the other. ”Not sure what I can do about it.”
I flinched, surprised at his abrupt tone. I'd expected deep interest. I fumbled for something to say. ”I guess nothing. Sorry I bothered you.”
He reached out and grabbed my arm. ”Don't leave all mad. I'm just saying...”
”I know, and you're right. There's nothing you can do.” Why was I being so curt?
”Let's go,” he said, taking my hand and pulling me along.
”Where?”
”Over to the bench to sit. Okay with you?” His voice was warm again, the way I remembered it from Friday. Maybe he wasn't annoyed after all. ”I could call my brother. He'll probably know where she is.”
We sat on a rough cement bench at the edge of the school grounds. The words In Memory of Walter Koenig were carved into the back of it. Everybody at Bates knew Walter Koenig had donated big time for all the landscaping around the school. He had been some kind of famous biologist or something.
Lance took out his cell phone and pressed a b.u.t.ton. ”Pete? Emili's looking for Farah... What...? You serious? Right now?” He stood so quickly his backpack slipped from his shoulder, and hung down his side. ”Are you... What? You're insane.”
The words coming out of his mouth were hard like stones. I could hear Pete's voice on the other end but couldn't make out what he was saying. He must have been mad though because his voice came fast and loud.
”No way...” Lance said. He snapped his phone shut, took a huge breath, and started pacing around the bench.
I sat there wide-eyed, watching him.
”Slime bag.” He spit the words out.
”Is Farah okay?” I asked.
He started cracking his knuckles, pulling each one with a loud pop. ”Turns out I can help you after all. Farah's fine.”
”What's wrong? And would you sit, you're making me dizzy.”
He plunked down on the cold cement. ”She's been with my brother and just left his place.”
”What?”
”You heard me.”
”You're sure?”
”I'm sure.”