Hannah Snyder, as I’d learned from my dream about her, was crashing in Apartment 2T at the Fountain Bleu complex just behind the Kroger Sav-On, right next to the hospital. I was surprised to see that there really was a fountain at the Fountain Bleu apartment complex. It was kind of a lame one, but it bubbled away in front of the complex in a somewhat soothing manner. All it needed, really, was a couple of swans, and it would be like the real Fountain Bleu it was named for, over in France. Or wherever.
I parked the bike and stored my helmet in its carryall. Then I strolled across the parking lot and thumped once on the door to 2T.
“Who is it?” a girl’s voice asked.
“Me,” I said. “Open up, Hannah.”
She had no idea, of course, who I was. Not yet, anyway.
Still, I’ve found, over the years, if you answerMe whenever anybody wants to know who it is, they’ll nearly always open the door, thinkingthey ’re the dumb one for not recognizing your voice.
Rob’s little sister stared at me a full five seconds before she realized I wasn’t the “me” she’d been expecting.
But she definitely recognized me. Even though we’d never had the pleasure of making each other’s acquaintance before. I guess she was up on her local history. Either that, or Rob had a picture of me somewhere.
Okay, probably she recognized me from TV.
She said a very bad word and, looking panicked, tried to slam the door in my face.
But it’s hard to slam the door in someone’s face when they’re holding a motorcycle-booted foot against the door frame.
Seven
“Better let me in,” I said.
Hannah made a face.
But she let go of the door.
“I can’t believe this,” she was grumbling as I pushed the door all the way open and invited myself into a stark white, fairly small living-room-dining-room-den combo. The paint still smelled fresh, and all of the furniture—a cheap leather set that reeked of no-payment-down—looked brand-new.
“He said you two were broken up.” Hannah looked hot-cheeked and accusing.
“Yeah,” I said. “We are.”
I noticed a large-screen TV against the wall. She’d been watching Dr. Phil’s most recentFamily in Crisis . I wondered if she’d noticed any similarities between their lives and her own. I found the remote on the couch and flicked it off.
“Where is he?” I asked her.
“Who?”
Hannah had started to cry. Not because she was unhappy, I didn’t think. I think because she was frustrated. And maybe a little scared. It’s no joke when America’s foremost psychic hunts you down. Especially when she’s wearing motorcycle boots.
I guess Hannah doesn’t read the papers much or she’d have known—you know. That I hadn’t exactly been in top form lately.
I thought about telling her that she ought to be gratified that I’d found her at all. She was my first find in over a year. That had to be an honor, of some kind.
Except that to her, it probably wasn’t.
“You know who I’m talking about,” I said to her. “Where is he?”
“My brother?” Hannah sniffed. “How should I know? At the stupid garage, I suppose.”
“Not your brother,” I said. “Your boyfriend.”
Hannah’s mascara-rimmed eyes widened in an unconvincing attempt at looking innocent.
“What boyfriend?” she asked. “I don’t have a—”
“Hannah,” I said, “I didn’t come a thousand miles to listen to lies. Somebody’s paying the rent on this apartment. So tell me where he is, or I swear to God I’ll have Child Protective Services here in five minutes flat.”
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket to illustrate the seriousness of my intent. Although truthfully, I didn’t exactly have the number for Child Protective Services on my speed dial. I’d stolen that line fromJudging Amy , one of Ruth’s favorite TV shows, which she makes me watch in syndication at least five times a week. It is oddly addictive.
Hannah seemed to realize she was up against a force greater than her own, since she said with a defeated sniff, “He’s at work. He’s very important, you know.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” I said sarcastically. “What does he do?”
“His dad owns this place,” Hannah said with a flicker of In-Your-Face-Girlfriend ’tude. “The apartment complex, I mean. He helps run it.”
Well, that explained the apartment, anyway.
But not the rest of it.
“So you picked a real winner, there,” I said. Again with the sarcasm. “If he’s such a catch, how come your mom didn’t approve? And don’t even try to tell me she did. Is it because he’s too old for you?”
“She’s such a bitch,” Hannah said from the little ball she’d curled herself into on the leather couch. She was wearing jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Between the shirt and her hair, which was still dyed to resemble spumoni ice cream, she was a veritable rainbow of color. “I mean, she brings home a different guy every week practically. But I tell her about Randy and she completely flips!”
I went to the window and pulled back the curtain liner. I could see the other side of the complex. There had to be over a hundred units altogether, making up Fountain Bleu Luxury Apartments. In the center of the complex was a pitifully small, kidney-shaped pool. A young mother sat beside it, as her kids paddled around in the shallow end.
“Where’d you meet him?” I asked, dropping the curtain and turning back towards Hannah. “Internet?”
She nodded. “A manga chatroom,” she said. “Randy’s a big manga fan. You know what manga is?” The look she darted me was sly.
“Japanese illustrated novels,” I said. I wasn’t about to mention that my brother had one of the foremost manga collections in southern Indiana. “Go on.”
“Well, he asked me to meet him in a private chat room, so I did.” Hannah was picking at the threads in a hole in the knee of her jeans. “And he was just…everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He asked me to spend the weekend with him, but when I asked my mom, she was like, no.”
“So you told your newly discovered big brother, who is unfamiliar with the lengths teenage girls will go to get what they want, that your mom’s boyfriends were putting the moves on you.” I didn’t need psychic powers to tell I’d hit the nail on the head. The truth was written all over her face. “And Rob believed you and invited you to stay with him on a trial basis. And you ditched him for this Randy guy the minute you got the chance.”
She had the grace to look ashamed.
“I wanted to tell Rob where I was,” she said. “Really, I did. But Randy said—”
“Oh, wait,” I said, holding up a hand to stop her. “Let me guess what Randy said. Randy said your big brother wouldn’t understand. Randy said your big brother would try to make something dirty out of it and maybe call the cops.” Though most likely, Rob would have just beaten the guy to a bloody pulp. “Randy said that a love like the one you and he share is a sacred thing, not easily understood by us mere mortals. Did I leave anything out?”
Hannah blinked at me, looking hurt.
“You don’t need to make fun of it,” she said. “Just because things didn’t work out between you and Rob, leaving you a bitter old maid, is no reason to assume every guy is a jerk.”
“Oh,” I said. “I see. Hannah, how old is Randy?”
“He said you’d ask that,” Hannah said, getting up suddenly to go to the kitchen to get a glass of water. But I know she’d only gotten up so she wouldn’t have to meet my gaze. “Well, not you, exactly, since I never thought—I mean, Rob said you were broken up. But Randy said people would try to make something dirty out of it, just because he happens to be a few years older than me—”
“How much older than you, Hannah?” I asked in an even voice.
“He’s twenty-seven,” she said, plunking down her water glass on the imitation granite counter. “But Randy says age doesn’t mean anything! Randy says he and I knew each other in a previous life. He says we’re destined to be together—”
“Hannah,” I said in a hard voice. “You are fifteen. He is twelve years older than you are. His having a sexual relationship with you is actually illegal.”
“Randy says the laws of man don’t recognize a love that is as true as ours—”
“Hannah,” I said. “If you tell me one more thing Randy says, I am going to smack you back into last week. Do you understand?”
She blinked at me, a little taken aback, but mostly still defiant. At least she was meeting my gaze now, though.
I leaned on one hip and said, “Look. You aren’t stupid. You can’t be, because you’re related to Rob. So why are you acting like such a world-class sap?”
Her mouth fell open to reply, but I cut her off.
“You know all that stuff about the two of you meeting in another life is a load of bull. You know this Randy guy is after you for one thing. That’s why your mom didn’t approve, because she knew it, too. And you know the only reason you like Randy back is because he buys you things and pays attention to you and lets you live in this cool apartment where you can watch TV all day. Speaking of which, it’s a beautiful day outside. Why aren’t you at the pool?”
“Randy says—”
“Randy told you not to go to the pool, because someone might see you and start asking questions. Right? Doesn’t that tell you something right there, Hannah? If this Randy guy really loved you, he’d have tried to get in good with your mom, not steal you from her. He’d have waited for you until you were legal, then asked you out, not hide you away in some apartment his dad’s paying for. Sure, things are great right now. You can lounge around and do whatever you want. But what about when school starts in the fall? Are you just going to drop out? Be Randy’s love slave for the rest of your life? That’s a worthy aspiration for a girl of your intelligence.”
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