Betrayed (11 page)

Yana sped out of the lot in her usual hell-on-wheels way. He glanced over at her, trying to figure out how he could
find out if she thought they were in the serious zone. You're gonna have to come out and ask her, h e told himself.

There's no way you can figure it out in the girl way by analyzing her every move. That's what his mother did.

Anthony still remembered her being on the phone for hours with one of her friends, talking about Tom and what it
meant when he said this, and what it meant when he did that, and that it had to mean he definitely likedher because
he tried not to burp in front of her. Anthony'd never be able to think that way. So, go ahead, ask her.

"Um," Anthony said. And that's all he could get to come out of his mouth. "Um?" Yana repeated, raising an
eyebrow.

"Um." Anthony's brain stalled again. It was like being back in Bluebird English class. "I was thinking about us." Did
he actually say that? He started tapping the heel of one foot up and down, making his whole leg jerk. How could he
have used the word us like that? His whole point was that there wasn't an us. "About you and me," he corrected
himself. "Do you? You don't-you're not, uh, serious, are you? Serious about…" He didn't want to say another us, so
he gestured back and forth between them.

Yana laughed. "Get over yourself, Fascinelli. I definitely haven't decided that I can't live without you."

"Good," Anthony blurted. Didn't have to sound quite so relieved, he told himself.

Yana swung into the Taquito parking lot and sped around to the end of the drive-through line. "I like hanging with
you. That's it. Your basic fun." She pulled up to the speaker and ordered without asking Anthony what he wanted,
then turned back around toface him. "So, feel better?" With one finger she traced a line along his leg.

"Better. Yeah," Anthony choked out as Yana began tracing little circles on the inside of his leg, just above his knee.

Someone blasted a car horn behind them, and Yana drove up to the window, paid for their food, then found a
parking spot in the corner under the shade of a big tree. The branches brushed against the windshield and front
windows, making kind of a cave.

Yana thrust the bag of food at Anthony. It was hot in his hands, but not anywhere near as hot as that spot on his
leg Yana had been working on with her finger. Anthony set the bag on the floor. He had no interest in food right now.

All he wanted was to feel her hands on him again. "Oh, Rae's dad called me last night," Yana said.

Anthony felt like he'd spilled his entire Dr. Pepper on his lap, including the crushed ice. But Yana was still holding
the bag with the drinks. "Rae's dad?" he repeated, trying to sound like he hadn't just gone from scalding to
freezing.

"Yeah. Rae's birthday is this weekend," Yana told him. "Her dad wants you and me to meet them at some
restaurant, do the cake-and-candles thing. I told him we would."

"I thought you-" Anthony began.

"-hate and despise Rae?" Yana finished for him. She pulled her milk shake out of the bag and handed Anthony's
soda to him. "I am still mad about what she did. But she's my friend. And it's her birthday. So what can I do?"

Anthony nodded. "It's hard to be completely mad at Rae even when she does something that stupid," he said.

He tried to picture himself walking into a restaurant with Yana, making it clear to Rae that he and Yana were
together. Not serious or anything, but still.

It's what you wanted, he told himself. It makes sense for you to be with someone like Yana. Someone who's a lot
more like you, who gets your life. Just like it makes sense for Rae to be with some Marcus type, if not the actual
Marcus.

It would be good for it all to be out in the open. That way he and Rae and Yana could all hang out together. The way
they used to. Sort of the way they used to.

"So do I look okay?" Rae asked Jesse when they climbed off the bus. "I mean, do I look different enough?" She
gave her short black wig a tug. She still couldn't quite believe she'd gotten all her curly hair hidden under it.

"You look amazing," Jesse said, talking to her breasts-her padded breasts. Rae laughed, and Jesse must have
realized that he'd been caught ogling, because he blushed. The freckles on his red cheeks reminded Rae of the little
seeds in raspberry jam.

"Thanks," Rae answered. "I did my makeup in a much more dramatic way then usual," she added, letting him off
the hook.

His blush faded a little. "Yeah. I noticed," he said. Rae managed to hold back a giggle. "I bet Anthony would like to
see the new you," he added. He paused. "I kinda thought maybe he'd be here," he continued, the hurt in his voice
obvious.

All desire to laugh disappeared. "Anthony's pretty busy, with practice and getting up to speed at a new school,"

Rae answered. "Yeah, I noticed," Jesse muttered.

Rae bit her lip, figuring Jesse needed a distraction from the Anthony topic as much as she did. "The Wilton Center
is only a block away," she told him. "The main thing we're looking for once we get inside is any kind of info on the
experiments or-"

"I got it," Jesse interrupted. "We've already talked about this, like, a hundred times."

"You're right," Rae answered. "So let's just go. Remember that I'm your sister and you want to take a
woodworking-"

"I. Got. It," Jesse said. "It's this way, right?" Without waiting for Rae to answer, Jesse started down the street.

"Right." Rae fell into step beside him. A moment later the center came into view. Rae grabbed Jesse by the elbow,
getting a few fuzzy thoughts off his shirt. "Look, I know I already told you this, too, but listen one more time, okay?"

She rushed on. "Even with the disguise, there's a chance that whoever sent me the bullet is watching us right now.

In the note I got, they admitted they killed Mandy's mom. More like bragged about it. I don't think whoever it is-the
fake meter reader guy, whoever he really is-will have any problem with killing somebody again. I just-"

"You just don't want anything bad to happen to me," Jesse finished for her.

"I don't want you to end up dead," Rae corrected, wanting him to think about exactly what he was getting in to. "I
know you-"

"Shut up, okay?" Jesse cut in, reminding her of Anthony for a second. "This isn't all about you. This guy, he
kidnapped me. And Mandy, he practically destroyed her life. Plus he tried to kill you," he added quickly.

Less than an hour with Mandy and he's already so protective of her, Rae thought. Her chest began toache, as if
someone was trying to pull her heart in four different directions. It was so sweet, how Jesse'd reacted to Mandy. But
it made Rae feel so alone.

Get over it, she ordered herself. Not the time. If there ever is a time for rampaging self-pity. She and Jesse cut
across the parking lot and strolled through the main entrance. They'd tried to time their arrival so that classes would
be in session, and it looked like they'd gotten it right. The halls were empty.

"Any ideas about where to find the security monitors?" Rae asked softly. Jesse shrugged. "Where'd you go last
time?" "To the right," Rae answered. "So let's try left," Jesse said.

God, this place is just so normal, Rae thought as they started down the hallway, walking past a row of clearly
handmade kites in bright, cheerful colors. And that made it worse. Something so dark and twisted should never
have happened here, where kids painted their favorite cartoon characters on kites.

"I think that's the security guard's room down there," Jesse said, pulling Rae out of her thoughts. "You hang back.

I'll get him out."

"Do you want to go over what you're-" Rae began. Jesse started to run, so all she could do waswatch him go.

When he reached the door of the security room, he pounded with both fists. A moment later the door was whipped
open by a rent-a-cop, who gave off vibes like those navy SEAL guys.

Rae turned toward the display of kites but listened to every word. "What?" the rent-a-cop barked.

"I was in the bathroom, and there was this guy in there and his backpack was partway open and I saw a gun in
there," Jesse blurted, his voice high and breathless.

Oh, no. Not the best story, Rae thought. The rent-a-cop could have watched us come in on one of the monitors. He
could know Jesse didn't go into the bathroom. He could "Is he still in the bathroom?" the rent-a-cop demanded. Rae
let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"He was when I left. And I ran down here," Jesse answered. "Show me," the rent-a-cop said.

Rae remained facing the kites until Jesse and the rent-a-cop had pounded past her. She waited another thirty
seconds, took a quick glance to make sure they were out of sight, then hurried over to the security room. Hope the
door isn't one of the ones that lock automatically, she thought. She grabbed the doorknob,turned it, and pulled.

There was the tiniest bit of resistance, then the door swung open. Rae smiled when she saw the wad of gum that
prevented the door from clicking all the way closed. "An oldie but a goodie, as my dad would say," she murmured
as she stepped inside.

Instantly her eyes went to the row of TV monitors and flicked from screen to screen. Front entrance. Storage room.

Pottery class. Hallway. Hallway. Flamenco dance class. Stairway. Office. Yoga class. Hallway. Stairway. Her eyes
darted faster. Nothing here, she realized.

I guess it was a stupid plan. Like Jesse and I could just prance in here, find the security monitors and-whoo-hoo-get all the answers.

Rae did a scan of the room, although it was too small to hide much of anything.

Except another door! Rae hadn't even noticed it at first. She'd been completely focused on the monitor screens,
and you actually had to look closely to notice that there was a thin line going all the way around one part of the wall.

It had to be a door.

With two steps she was over to it, then she pushed aside some boxes covering up one side. Yes. There was a
handle. A door handle. She jerked on it.
extra pay
sickos/pick up milk/ Locked. Of course it was locked. Maybe
shecould try to get it open with a paper clip or something. Although that was probably as delusional as plan A had
been. Rae did a fast check of the monitors and spotted Jesse and the rent-a-cop. They were heading into a
classroom. Thank God, Jesse was a good talker.

Rae opened her purse and rooted through, ignoring her old thoughts, until she found a hair clip with an end that
she thought would be thin enough to try on the lock.

"Just one problem," she muttered when she returned her attention to the door. "There is no lock." Which meant
there had to be-yep, there was one of those little keypads to one side. Rae ran her fingers over the buttons. They
were too small for entire prints, and they'd been touched a lot, so mostly she just got static.

She did another check of the monitors. Still time. Still time. Rae rubbed her hands down her sides, trying to dry
them from the beads of sweat forming on her palms. Then she ran her fingers over the buttons again, more slowly.

There isn't static on all of them, she realized. Just on three, four, seven, and nine. Which means…

Rae jabbed in the combo three, four, seven, nine. The door didn't open. Okay, but there are only four numbers, she
thought. That's not so many combos.

As fast as she could, Rae punched in the numbers in a different order. No luck.

Will it only give me a certain number of tries before an alarm goes off? she wondered, her heart snaking its way up
into her throat. Got to risk it, Rae decided, stabbing at the keypad. She swallowed hard, trying to get her heart back
down where it was supposed to be, since it felt like it had almost blocked out her airflow. It didn't budge. She typed
in another combo. The last one. And the door didn't open.

If she thought it would help, Rae would rip her throat open with her fingernails to get some air in. How was she
supposed to think when she couldn't breathe?

You can breathe, she told herself. She sucked in a mouthful of air just to prove it. Then, using just one finger, she
lightly touched each button again. Yeah, it was only three, four, seven, and nine with the static. But the static she
picked up on number four was just the tiniest bit louder. So maybe it was a five-number combo, not a four number.

Which meant more variations. A bunch more. Would she have time?

Rae punched in a five-number sequence with two fours in it, then cursed. She'd hit the two instead of the three. So
of course the door stayed locked. Concentrate, she ordered herself. She entered a combo. Thedoor stayed locked.

Another. Still locked. Another.

And then she heard a click. A beautiful, beautiful sound. Gently, reverently, Rae turned the doorknob and pulled.

The door swung open. She looked over her shoulder at the monitors. Her heart began to thud against the walls of
her throat. Jesse and the rent-a-cop were in a hallway. Were they heading back toward her?

She couldn't leave now. She was too close. Rae scurried through the door. The room she found herself in wasn't
any bigger than a closet. There was one table, one chair, one monitor.