Going Under by S. Walden Page A

what I
expected to overhear or see, if anything at all. But I knew in my
gut that Parker and Cal were up to something. If they were, in
fact, part of a salacious sex club, I was sure they were looking
for partners. Unsuspecting partners. I made it my mission to find
out, but I realized I’d have to investigate another night. My top
priority was keeping an eye on my friends. I would never sacrifice
their safety to discover more clues about Parker and Cal.
    I walked with my tired, dehydrated friends
out of the bathroom and towards the front door. Stephanie couldn’t
remember how she got to the party, so I decided to take her home.
On our way out, I spotted Cal and Parker talking. They were huddled
in a corner of the foyer whispering. I caught Cal’s eye, and he
waved at me. I waved back, watching Parker scowl. He tried getting
Cal’s attention again, but Cal was more interested in watching me
walk away.
    Even when I turned my back on him, I knew he
was still watching me. It was the same feeling I had at
registration, the hairs standing on the back of my neck. I didn’t
like it then, and I hadn’t met him yet. It was worse now because I
had met him. I knew what he wanted from me, and I knew eventually
I’d have to give it to him.
     
     
     
     
    Seven
    The first time I had an actual conversation
with Ryan Foster was right after our little spying game. I was
vacuuming the living room floor Saturday morning and had pulled
back the curtains that usually hung over the large window
overlooking the street because I needed sunshine. I realized that
part of my dad’s problem was that he had gone too many years
without sunshine.
    He lived in a little box of a house closed
up with thick fabric that forbade the outside world to get a peek.
I didn’t care who wanted a peek so long as I could feel the
sunlight on my face when I sat on the couch reading. I lived in my
old house a total of nineteen hours before I opened everything,
tearing away the dust and heavy seclusion. I could tell it made my
dad nervous, but he gave me my sunshine because he’d give me
whatever I wanted.
    I carefully maneuvered the vacuum underneath
the coffee table when I saw him in my peripheral vision. I looked
out the window and watched him ride his skateboard down the
sidewalk. He didn’t look anything like a skater except for his
hair. He wasn’t dressed in skater clothes. He wore regular
straight-legged jeans with a form-fitting blue T-shirt. He had nice
arms, but he didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who lifted
weights. Nobody was just blessed with toned muscles like that,
though. He had to do something to work them. I imagined he chopped
wood. I liked that image. Even better without a shirt.
    He paused in front of my house and looked
towards the front door. It startled me, and I knew his eyes would
move to the open window next, so I averted mine and continued
vacuuming, trying hard to look oblivious and pretty. But how does
someone look pretty while vacuuming?
    I tried cocking my head to the side and
smiling, but felt so stupid doing it that I stopped. I put my free
hand on my hip, but that made me feel like one of those models on The Price is Right . I gave up altogether and turned off the
vacuum. When I braved a glance out my window, he was gone, and the
disappointment manifested itself as tightness in my chest. I didn’t
like the way it felt. I thought I shouldn’t feel that way at all
about a person I didn’t know. I grunted and put the vacuum
away.
    When I returned to the living room, I
spotted him again. He was rolling along in the opposite direction.
Again he paused in front of my house, and again I averted my eyes.
I looked over at the family portrait still hanging above the couch.
I scowled, then thought twice about it. Scowls were ugly. I tried
for a smile instead. A sweet smile. But it seemed fake. I lost the
smile and tried to look pensive. What the hell?
    I looked back out the window and just like
that, he had disappeared. I walked