That Girl, Darcy Read online

  “I just won so many bets,” I said to no one in particular.

  “She’s perky,” Kyle said with a pervy grin. “If you know what I mean.”

  I shot him a look, but Liam nodded in agreement. “Hey, let’s go talk to her. Jake’s over there already; he can introduce us.”

  “How about we don’t,” I said, curtailing their advance. “Why don’t we leave Jake and Bridget to themselves? It doesn’t look like they want to be bothered.”

  “What’d I tell you? Cheekbones,” said Kyle.

  I watched Jake and his new friend and shook my head. “I need a drink. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m away.”

  I went to one of the coolers next to the food table, where I dug a Pepsi from the ice and took a seat at a chair that was partially concealed by the shed, where I could observe the party without being seen. Things worked better that way, when I could study people from afar. I drank my Pepsi in silence. My eyes fell on the spot where I’d had my first—and hopefully last—encounter with Darcy. She was nowhere in sight.

  Good riddance, I thought.

  I next glanced over to where Jake and Bridget had been, but they were gone, too. I started searching in earnest for my cousin, angry with myself for not keeping a closer eye on him. To my relief I spotted him with Liam and Kyle. Bridget wasn’t with him. I stood and took a single step toward them, only to turn around and sit right back down. Bridget and Darcy were both at the cooler, on the other side of the shed. I was just out of sight.

  What awesome timing you have, Elliott, I thought to myself.

  My first thought was to steel myself and walk right past, ignoring Darcy completely. But good manners would dictate that I at least greet Bridget, toward whom I harbored no ill will. Also, in the short time since I’d seen them, their conversation had piqued my interest. Although I wasn’t usually one for eavesdropping I couldn’t help it this time.

  “You mean to tell me you didn’t see any cute guys here?” Bridget was saying.

  Darcy scoffed. “The only somewhat attractive boy here is the one you’ve been canoodling with.”

  Bridget stomped her foot. “We were not canoodling!”

  “Whatever.”

  Bridget didn’t argue. “What about his friend, the one with the gray button-up?”

  As still as I had been, I felt as though I had frozen again. That was me.

  “You mean the dork? He’s dense,” Darcy said dismissively. “I’d be surprised if he were literate. And did you see what he was wearing? It looked like he just got mugged.”

  “You’re a snob, you know that?”

  “And you’re too silly for your own good. But as long as you don’t go getting yourself hurt, do what you want.”

  The girls left. I waited until I was sure they both had gone far enough away before emerging from my hiding place. Any guilt I felt at having eavesdropped was far overpowered by my irritation at this Darcy girl.

  Dense? Illiterate?

  All of this served to solidify my low regard for her, and to ensure her permanent place on my list of people to avoid. Having made up my mind about the matter, I found my friends.

  “Good news,” I announced merrily to Jake. “She likes you.”

  He perked up ever so slightly. “Who does?”

  “Bridget, of course.”

  For a second his face was exuberant, but his features quickly turned skeptic. “How do you know?”

  “Simple. I overheard her and her friend”—I found it irritating just thinking Darcy’s name, let alone saying it—“talking just now. She thinks you’re cute.”

  Jake only shrugged. “Cute doesn’t mean much. Cars can be cute, doesn’t mean she wants to date them.”

  “She didn’t say cars, she said you.”

  “No fair!” exclaimed Kyle.

  “See what I mean about the face?” Liam added.

  “One down, one to go,” said Kyle. “If one of us wants the other one we’d better make our move now.”

  “If either of you so much as talk to her,” I warned, “I will tear off enough pieces from both of you to put together a third brother. And if I don’t do it, she will, trust me.”

  They seemed unconvinced. I gave them a look that said I’m serious, then pushed Jake aside, where we could talk without them hearing. “So do you like this girl?” I asked in a hushed voice.

  Generally speaking, Jake didn’t gush often. But now he did, speaking at a pace that was difficult to keep up with. “I mean, she’s seems pretty cool and she’s a great dancer and she told me this joke that was just hilarious and she’s got this cute little laugh and she’s really, really pretty and—”

  “But do you like her?”

  I didn’t want to be pushy, but I needed to clarify things before they got too complicated.

  Jake shrugged. “I just met her.”

  “Is it a possibility that you could like her?”

  Jake laughed nervously, but pulled himself together and nodded confidently. “Yes. It’s a very likely possibility.”

  I smiled. “Then you have to make sure she knows that. I know you. You can’t make her guess. You have to communicate that to her.”

  He nodded in agreement, but I could see the anxiety on his face. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

  That was all I could expect for now.

  “Good. Now, I’ll leave you to your devices and go back to keeping those two”—I nodded at Kyle and Liam, who were already salivating over another set of girls—“from embarrassing themselves.”

  Chapter 3

  “Say the zombie apocalypse breaks out right now. Which fictional character would you be to fight them off?”

  Kyle’s question elicited a collective sigh from us all. It was Sunday afternoon, the day after the party. We were sprawled in Mark’s garage, supposedly to listen to the slew of songs he’d written and would be singing for the homecoming performance that none of us were really looking forward to.

  Mark was sitting on a beat up stool retuning his acoustic guitar for the third time. He was terribly thin; he had blotchy skin, greasy black hair, and wore wire-frame glasses over eyes that almost seemed too far apart. Right now he was bobbing his head to a song only he could hear. Liam was stretched out on the old sofa that Kyle was sitting against, messing around on his phone as always. I was lying on the stained carpet, one hand in the bag of chips we were passing around and my phone in my other hand. “I’d be Batman,” I said. I always chose Batman.

  “Batman doesn’t have superpowers,” said Liam. “He’d totally get eaten.”

  “No way. He could fight off hordes of zombies,” I replied.

  “I have to agree,” added Mark, pausing to strum his guitar. “Although, I’d prefer Superman.”

  “That’s too easy,” said Kyle. “No Superman.”

  “You didn’t specify,” said Liam.

  “I’m specifying now. No Superman.”

  “I’d be Iron Man,” said Liam.

  “How’s that any different from Batman?” I asked.

  “One word. Armor.”

  “Armor that doesn’t run indefinitely. Sooner or later he’s going to need to recharge, and the second he does, he’s zombie feed,” I said.

  “Wait, how many zombies are we talking about, Kyle?” Lucas asked as he reached over to snatch the bag of chips from me. “Is this a regional outbreak or a world-wide pandemic?”

  Kyle thought for a moment. “Let’s say . . . regional, but spreading. And you’ve got to contain it.”

  “Survival and containment are two totally separate goals,” Mark protested. “That’s a game-changer.”

  “Very true,” I agreed.

  “You guys suck,” said Kyle. “Pass the chips, losers.”

  Lucas flung the half-eaten bag over the couch, spilling most of what was left.

  “C’mon, Lucas,” Mark complained. “You’re going to ruin my couch.”

  “I think the couch w
as already ruined.”

  “Where’s Jake?” Kyle asked. “Didn’t he say he was coming over?”

  I frowned. “Yeah, he was supposed to meet us here.” But that had been nearly two hours ago. I picked up my phone and sent him a quick where-are-you text.

  Liam sat up, purposefully kicking Kyle in the process. “Guys, are we going to the game?”

  “What do you mean we?” asked Kyle.

  “All of us, obviously. We have to go. We’re playing Meryton next Friday.”

  “What’s your point?” I asked.

  Kyle looked at me like I was from another planet.

  “Two points, actually,” said Liam with a hint of annoyance in his voice, “Firstly, it’s football.”

  “Right.” I’d forgotten that both Liam and Kyle were avid football fans, and it seemed I had offended them both.

  “Secondly,” Liam continued, “Meryton has the highest hot-girl-to-not-hot-girl ratio of any school in the valley. Have you seen their cheerleaders?”

  I flicked a stray chip at him. “No, Liam, I have not.”

  “How would you know that, anyway?” asked Lucas.

  Liam flashed a coy grin. “Let’s just say you aren’t the only one with connections.”

  We all waited for him to elaborate, but he took his time, seemingly relishing our undivided attention. Even Mark stopped messing with his guitar to listen. “I know a girl that goes there,” he told us. “Denise. We’ve been friends for a while.”

  “Is Denise imaginary?” Lucas asked with a chuckle.

  “Did you meet her online?” asked Kyle.

  Liam scowled. “No and yes. But that’s beside the point.”

  Kyle shook his head. “Liam, we’ve been through this. All those girls you ‘friend’ on Facebook don’t count as friends if you don’t know them in real life.”

  “Anyways,” Liam said with a roll of his eyes, “Denise is going to be there, and she’s bringing friends, so we have to go.”

  “I was already going,” said Kyle.

  “Ditto,” said Lucas.

  “Can’t,” said Mark. “I hate football.”

  “Yeah, we know,” mumbled Liam. Most of the football team hated Mark anyways, so the feeling was mutual.

  I glanced at my phone again. Jake still hadn’t responded. The room had gone silent, and I looked up to see that Liam was looking at me, waiting on my answer. I peeled myself off the ground and brushed the crumbs off my shirt. “Yeah, yeah, whatever, I’ll go.” I tossed my shoes on. “See you guys tomorrow.”

  “Hey, Elliott,” called Liam. “Five bucks says she’s real.”

  “I’ll take that bet.” Probably the easiest money I’d ever make.

  Outside, the air had a wooden feel to it. The sky was a pallid blue, and there was a brown haze gathering at the peaks of the mountains that surrounded the valley. A dust storm was brewing. I picked up my pace; the last time I’d gotten caught in a dust storm I’d been spitting dirt for days.

  * * *

  When I got home I found my mom curled up on the couch with her latest tabloid, one of the dozen or so she subscribed to. Her hair was up in rollers, and, judging by the strong smell of polish and the fresh gloss on her nails, she had just painted her fingers and toes. “Can you believe she’s pregnant again?” she asked.

  I didn’t bother answering her question. “Have you heard from Jake?”

  Mom reached for the long-stemmed glass on the coffee table and took a sip of what was decidedly not coffee. “He’s at the Manor.”

  The Manor? “Why would he be there?”

  Mom flipped idly through her magazine. “Your aunt and uncle came by to drop off some things for my garden, and we decided to be good neighbors and go introduce ourselves, bearing gifts in the form of cookies.”

  I groaned. “You didn’t . . .”

  “And then Jake decided to stay behind to chat. With the nicest girl—she was a bit flighty, I’ll admit—but she was so sweet. And that house is so much bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside, believe it or not. Where are you going?”

  I finished putting my shoes back on and started back out the door. “To check on Jake.”

  There was only one girl who I could even remotely picture Jake staying to “chat” with, and that was Bridget, which meant that it was her family that had moved into the Manor.

  “Be careful out there,” Mom warned, pausing to take another sip from her cup. “Dust storm’s coming.”

  I picked up my board and threw the door open. A dust storm was exactly what it sounded like. A huge brown cloud of dust, dirt, and grit that could sweep across the valley in a matter of minutes. They could be big, or they could be small, but they were a pain in the butt if you got caught in one. Already the wind was picking up.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said over my shoulder before hurrying out.

  I skated until the pavement ran out and then started walking with my board tucked underneath my arm. Why on Earth was Jake at the Manor of all places? Jake didn’t go to other people’s houses when he could avoid it unless it belonged to a friend or family member. And even then, his stay was generally short-lived. But here he was, alone, at some stranger’s place. What was wrong with the world?

  The answer, of course, was Bridget. It was hard to imagine that one girl could bring about all these changes in my cousin, and so quickly at that. Yes, something was wrong. Very wrong . . . or very right. Either way, I was very confused.

  I was approaching the Manor when I saw the huge column of dust billow over the mountains and sweep down into the valley, concealing everything in its path in brown. I reached the shelter of the porch just as the cloud rocked the house, and I knocked with my free hand while concealing my face from the gritty nuggets that clogged the air. When the heavy door finally opened I was met by a boy who looked about my age, with a rectangular face, all chiseled chin. His blonde hair was meticulously groomed and immaculately coiffed. “Can I help you?” he asked in a snooty voice.

  I didn’t know a thing about the guy, but I already didn’t like him. “I’m looking for my cousin, Jake. Is he here?”

  “Ah, of course. Come in.” The boy held the door open just enough for me to scurry inside.

  I had never been inside the Manor before, and now, seeing it for the first time, standing in the sweeping foyer, it was exactly what I would have pictured if I had ever cared enough to imagine it. At the end of the foyer was a huge spiral staircase that branched off lazily in two directions on the second level. To the right, a few steps led to a sunken guest room that split into a kitchenette on the left and another, larger room to the right. Everything was polished and gleaming. I half expected a butler to emerge and offer me something on a gilded platter. I was suddenly afraid to touch anything.

  The boy locked the door behind me with a definitive click and stepped in. “Name’s Calvin,” he said offhandedly.

  “Elliott,” I said, still trying to put my finger on why I didn’t like him. Calvin walked like a rooster, with his head held high, looking down his nose at everything. He wore a crisp white polo that was just a bit too tight and moccasins. Who wore moccasins?

  “Right this way,” he said, leading me toward the room to the right. “You walked here?”

  “And skated. I don’t live far.”

  “Don’t you own a car?”

  “To cross a park and a golf course?”

  We descended into the room, and I felt like I had walked into some swanky cocktail party rather than a group of my own peers. Everyone sat propped and polished like models at a photo shoot. Even Bridget seemed at home here, which I supposed made sense, seeing as she was. Her outfit wasn’t quite as colorful today, and she’d ditched the ponytail; her curly hair hung in long tresses that made her look a bit older. She and Calvin looked alike; they had to be siblings.

  What amplified the feeling that I had interrupted some private meeting was the fact that Jake, too, looked like he belong
ed among these beautiful people. And here I was, clutching a filthy skateboard and covered with a fine coating of dust, some of which wafted off of me every time I moved.

  My eyes finally found Darcy, who was curled up in a chair in the corner of the room with a laptop resting on her thigh and headphones dangling from her ears. Her clothes were still dark. She wore a sleeveless black and white Misfits T-shirt and leggings. Even her ankle socks were black. I hadn’t expected to see her here, and wondered if she was related to Calvin and Bridget. She certainly didn’t look related, and if she was, she was most definitely the black sheep of the family. She certainly dressed the part, at least.

  She glanced up quickly at me, frowned, and went back to her laptop.

  “Jake, it’s your cousin!” said Bridget, waving at me with a smile. Jake nodded nonchalantly in my direction, like it wasn’t at all weird that he was here.

  “So you’ve always been a skateboarder, then?” asked Calvin. He was propped against the doorway with his arms crossed, his expression terse as he eyed the dirty board in my hand.

  “Since I was eleven.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Darcy roll hers.

  “No other sports?” he asked.

  “Not really.”

  He nodded, and I had the intense suspicion that he was making some joke. “I’ve always preferred rugby. It’s like football, minus the protective equipment and most of those stifling rules. Ever played?”

  I tugged nervously at my wristband. “Not really.”

  Again he nodded, as if it was the answer he expected. “Ah, well, it isn’t for everyone. It takes a certain bravery to take to a field without so much as a jockstrap.”

  It became glaringly obvious that this Calvin character wanted to get a rise out of me. I was not inclined to play into his well-groomed hands. Instead, I turned to Jake. “My mom said you were here.”

  “Yeah, I’m just . . . hanging out, I suppose.”

  “He’s telling us about all the cool things there are to do around here,” said Bridget.

  “Right,” I said, noting how close she and Jake were sitting to each other. Clearly, I was interrupting something. “Well, I’d better head out.”