The Collector (3 page)

Chapter Four

Daydream Charlie

I’m staring at what’s left of my food—which is most of it—when Charlie gets up from the table. She picks up her tray, and I think she’s about to put this garbage where it belongs. But she dumps the leftovers into napkins and stuffs them into her backpack. I can’t even stomach eating this junk, and she’s going to repurpose it as a midday snack.

Annabelle stops discussing last night’s Knicks game with Blue and glances up at Charlie. “You going where I think you’re going?” Charlie bites her plump bottom lip. Annabelle nods. “That’s what I thought.”

I bump Charlie’s hip with my shoulder, and she glances down at me, startled. “Where you going?” Charlie pulls in a breath but doesn’t say anything. “Come on. Spit it out.”

Blue shoots me a look of warning, and I’m wondering what he and his hundred-pound-self are going to do about my attitude. This may be my assignment, but it doesn’t mean I have to be all excited about it. In fact, it’s probably better I’m not.

“I was going to stop by the journalism room.” Charlie says it so quietly I cock my head to hear her. I hate mumblers. I’ve had enough with Blue and his ever-present mumbling already. We don’t need two spineless people at this table.

“Speak up, Charlie,” I say. “If you have something to say, then say it out loud.” Blue huffs from between gritted teeth. I meet his eyes and raise my eyebrows. He holds my glare for a moment longer than I expected he would, then glances down. That’s what I thought.

Charlie sticks her chin out and says louder, “I’m going to the journalism room to watch the broadcast.” She nods. “Yeah.”

I smile at her and stand from the table. “Well, let’s get crackin’.”

“You want to come?” she asks, her eyes round and vulnerable.

“Sure, why not? What else do I have to do?”
Besides seal your soul and drag you to hell.

“Great!” Charlie gives her friends an
OMG! He’s coming with me!
look and glances back in my direction “It’s on the other side of the building near the gym. We can just…walk from here.”

As opposed to taking a train?

People watch as Charlie and I weave our way through the long, bench-like tables. Heads move together, and whispers are exchanged. A group of girls giggle, and one waves at me with gusto. I’ll be back for them later. I’ve got to collect Charlie’s soul, but that doesn’t mean I get a free ticket out of my normal duties. If I could finish this job
and
seal a ton of souls while I’m at it, that promotion will be mine fo’ shizzle.

Right as we’re about to leave the cafeteria, I see a guy waving an orange envelope around like a winning lottery ticket. Three guys near him peer over his shoulder as he reads whatever’s inside. I glance around and notice more orange envelopes in giddy, greedy hands.

I suddenly want one of those orange envelopes so bad it makes me sick.

When I was alive, I was never left out of anything. In fact, I would’ve been the one passing out those damn envelopes. It feels weird to be on the outside. I throw my shoulders back. But who cares, right? If I wanted to, I could own this school in a matter of days.

The echo of squeaking tennis shoes and thumping basketballs lets me know we’re near the gym. I wonder if Annabelle and Blue ever break from talking basketball long enough to actually play. Hearing the repetitive sound of balls clanking off the rim makes me want to ditch Charlie and join the game. Unlike those jokers, I hit nothin’ but net.

Charlie stops in front of what I guess is the journalism room. She stands outside the doorway, not going any farther in. Whatever she wants to do, she wants to do it from here. On the left side of the room, there’s a long gray table with three stools tucked beneath it. On the other is an enormous black camera and a stand holding cue cards.

I notice a girl strut toward the center stool. She holds a stack of papers and silently mouths the words she’s reading. When she’s done, she drops them onto the table and glances around the room. My back stiffens when her gaze meets mine.

The girl’s got enormous brown eyes, smooth brown skin, and long dark hair. She’s like a bucket of caramel, and I’d like to taste every part of her. And string me up and flog me if she isn’t built like a
Playboy
centerfold.

“That’s Taylor,” Charlie says like I just ran over her dog. “She’s head of the journalism club. And pretty much everything else.” She watches my face closely and continues, “I could introduce you.”

“Uh-huh,” is all I manage because I can’t stop watching Taylor nibble her lip and smile at me. Two guys wearing red football jerseys file past Charlie and me and sit on either side of Dream Girl. A second later, two more students walk into the room and set up near the camera. A guy as tall as a soda can climbs up onto a short platform and plays with the camera. He nods at a freckle-faced girl standing close by, who counts down from five, and the room falls silent.

“Hi! I’m Taylor Fitch, and this is your Weekend Play Plan. With me, I’ve got Brad Setterfield and Clint Moers from our very own Centennial football team.” Taylor does an adorable
woot-woot
with her arm, and I fall in lust all over again.

I glance at Charlie to make sure she’s still there and then look right back at Taylor.

But then I stop.

My eyes slowly return to Charlie. Her face is…alive. Eyes. Ears. Mouth. They’re completely open and alert. Even her head has a daydream-y tilt. Maybe she’s crushing on one of the jocks? But no, her eyes are glued to the same thing mine were—Taylor.

“What are you staring at?” I whisper.

Charlie’s eyes never leave their subject. “This,” she whispers back. “Her.”

“You got a thing for chicks?” I ask.

Charlie rolls her eyes and smiles. “No. It’s…the whole being in front of a camera and being so
good
at it. Sometimes they even do these things live, and she still does everything perfectly.”

“She’s just reading the cue cards.” I point to the cue card stand as if it isn’t obvious.

“You say it like it’s no big deal.” Charlie’s face drops, and I remind myself what I’m here for.

I nudge her. “So why don’t you join the club? Maybe you can go on camera sometime.” Charlie shakes her head but doesn’t say anything. “Why not?”

“It’s not that I have a problem talking to people.” Yeah, I gathered that much. “But I can’t go on camera in front of the whole school and be like her.” Charlie points to Taylor’s shiny hair and shinier smile. “She’s so…captivating.”

“Please. She’s just flirting with the camera. You know how to flirt, don’t you?” Of course she doesn’t.

“Well, yeah,” she says. “Everyone knows how to flirt.”

I doubt she has any clue how to reel a guy in. Even if she did, she’d have no idea what to do with him. I suddenly have an image of Charlie trying to hold onto a fish as it flops around between her hands.

The freckle-faced girl announces that they’re done filming, and the beauty behind the table gets up and saunters toward me. I have to stop myself from shoving Charlie out of the way.

“Hey,” the girl purrs. “I’m Taylor.”

I try to appear uninterested. “Dante.”

“New here?” she asks.

“Yep.” I say, barely looking at her. Uninterested. It always works.

“Then you’ll want this.” She hands me a glorious orange envelope. Pow! “It’s an invite to my party Saturday night. Give you a chance to meet people.”

“We’ll see,” I say. Taylor gives a smile that says she knows I’ll show. And she’s right. Because this party will serve two purposes: it’ll give me the chance to corrupt Charlie and ravage Taylor. Caramel Mama is already walking away when I speak up. “Hey, ‘Taylor,’ you said it was?” She nods. “Well, this is Charlie. She wants to be in your little club.” I flip my hand toward the journalism room behind us.

Taylor glances at Charlie, then back at me. “I don’t think so.”

Charlie hits my arm. “Dante, I don’t have to be in the club. They probably already have enough members. It’s fine.”

“See,” Taylor says. “It’s fine.”

My blood boils. If there’s one thing that pisses me off, it’s singling people out. Taylor starts to walk away, but I grab her wrist. “Except it’s not, actually. Charlie wants to be in the club, so let’s just get her in there, all right?” Taylor narrows her eyes. “Besides, if
she’s
here all the time,
I’ll
be here all the time.”

She thinks about this for a second and decides she still has a shot at us hooking up. She’s probably thinking how great I’d look on her arm. It’d be the other way around, but whatever. “Fine.” Taylor studies Charlie’s face. “But you can’t be on camera. No way.”

“That’s great! Thank you.” Charlie cheeks redden. Even though she thanked Taylor, it seems there’s some deeper emotion swirling beneath the surface of her eyes.

Taylor touches a pink fingernail to my chest. “See you at my party.”

I don’t like the way Taylor treats Charlie, like she’s a Porta Potty, but I need to hold onto my invite. “See ya.”

As soon as Taylor is out of earshot, Charlie lights up. “Oh, my God. You’re amazing. That was so amazing! You basically just told Taylor to shove it.”

Charlie’s eyes are so big and excited, I can’t help but laugh.

“It’s no big deal,” I say. This could turn out to be really good. Charlie needs someone to take up for her at this school, and her friends certainly aren’t in a social position to do it. If she thinks I have her best interests at heart, she’ll trust me. And that trust will be the perfect stepping stone on the path to corruption. As if to prove this theory to myself, I tell Charlie, “Hey, let’s do something fun.”

Charlie beams. “Yeah? Like what?”

“Let’s get outta here.”

She takes a small step back like I’m explosive. “We’ve got to go to class, though. The bell’s going to ring any second.”

“Come on, Charlie. We’ll go somewhere fun. Haven’t you ever wanted to be a little rebellious?” I can tell the answer is
no
. I need to get her to bail on classes. I need this small victory over Ms. Pious, or else I might as well call this assignment hopeless now. “Look, this is my first week in Peachville, and my first day at Centennial. It’s kind of overwhelming. Is it so bad that I want to just spend some time alone with you?”

In my entire life, I’ve never seen anyone smile the way Charlie is smiling at me right now. And for a second, I actually feel guilty. But then she opens her mouth and says, “Okay, let’s do it.”

And just like that, the guilt is gone.

Chapter Five

Mall Hell

“This? This is where you wanted to go?”

Peachville’s only mall is crowded for the middle of the day. Don’t these people have jobs? Or lives? The mall has a tile floor that turns high heels into a headache, and the fountain centerpiece attracts only fake greenery and screaming children. “I told you I’d take you anywhere you wanted to go, and you choose here?”

Charlie bites into a sugar cookie. She’s still nervous I borrowed her grandma’s car without asking, but she’s starting to relax. “I love the mall. Don’t you?”

“Yeah. I mean, it has its uses.” A woman with a stroller races past me and nearly takes off my right arm. No “excuse me” equals one tiny seal for you. I take a moment to seal her up right, then turn my attention back on Charlie. “It’s Friday, though. Don’t you want to try and dig up a party for tonight instead of hanging out here?”

She brushes crumbs over her blouse. “I don’t really like parties.”

“Charlie, have you ever been to a party?”

“Yeah. I mean, sort of.” That means
no
. “I go to birthday parties and stuff.”

“I’m talking about a real party. Like the kind Taylor’s throwing. Do you ever go to parties like that?” Charlie shrugs and shakes her head like it isn’t a big deal. “Hey, why don’t we go to Taylor’s party together tomorrow night?”

She stops walking and stares at me, her head bent to one side. “Why? Why do you want to take me? And why are you being so nice?”

So she does understand this is abnormal, someone like me hanging out with someone like her. I calculate my answer. “A lot of people at my last school were really shallow. And I was part of that crowd.” Okay, so that much is true. “I decided this time would be different. I want to find friends who are…real.”

Charlie’s face pinches into a smile, and I almost feel like cupping her chin. I take another gander at her mouth and decide if it wasn’t for those crooked teeth, she might actually have one solid asset.

“So how ’bout that party?” I nudge her.

And…the smile’s gone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t really fit in with those people.”

I decide to drop the subject for now, but one thing’s for sure—we’re going to that damn party. “Hey, can we swing by Bergdorf? If we’re going to be at the mall on a Friday, we might as well have some fun.”

Charlie gawks at me like I’ve gone bat shit. “What’s a Bergdorf?”

“You’re kidding me, right? This place doesn’t have a Bergdorf?” She shakes her head. “What about Nordstrom, or maybe a Versace?” More head shaking ensues. I take a deep breath and spin in a circle. I spot a Neiman Marcus. It’ll have to do. “Let’s go in there.”

“Nice,” she says as we head over to the store. “I usually just get my stuff at Target. They have cute clothes.”

“Oh, Charlie.” This time I can’t help myself. I rub her back and laugh. She smiles up at me with a look of awe. For some twisted reason, I think of my mother. This is the way I always wanted
her
to look at me.

The moment I enter the store, I come alive. I flag down an associate and tell him I need his help. The guy has dark, slicked-back hair and a black leather jacket over a starched shirt. He reminds me of a preppy James Dean. As I pile clothes into his waiting arms, his pupils dilate and take on a wild shade of cash. Commission makes people crazy. I bet psych wards have a whole wing dedicated to rehabilitating commission-paid peeps.

I’m about to ring up when I see Charlie eyeing a bright red dress. She may be an uggo, but that dress would turn anyone into a rock star. “Grab the dress,” I yell across the store. “My treat.” Charlie takes the dress off the rack and holds it against her. Over my shoulder, the associate holding my clothes snorts. “What?” I ask him.

“No, nothing,” he says with a laugh.

I laugh, too, but in a different way. “No, really. What’s funny?”

The guy thinks we’re sharing the same joke, so he opens his fat mouth and says, “That dress was made for a lot of people…”

“And?”

“And you know, she’s not really one of them.” The guy realizes I’m not laughing anymore. “I don’t mean to say—”

“I know what you mean to say. You just said it.” I take the clothes out of his arms and throw them. “Changed my mind. I don’t need this off-brand crap.” His jaw drops open, and I have an urge to shut it with my fist. I’m the only one here who’s allowed to judge. He’s lucky his mouth didn’t earn him a seal.

I head toward Charlie, and right as we’re about to leave, the guy decides he’s not going to let me embarrass him. “Not my fault your girlfriend’s a train wreck.” My head snaps around. Already her eyes have that glassy, watery appearance.

Oh, no, you didn’t.
Oh, yes, he did.
One seal for you, coming right up.
His soul light flips on, and—ah, snap!—look how many seals this guy has. He’s pulling some serious recreational badness after hours. Spotting a few of my fellow collectors’ colorful seals amidst the small black ones is more proof that Boss Man’s had Peachville scouted for some time, searching for something big. I briefly wonder why I never knew about it before.

Leaning back, I smile wide. Sealing this soul is going to be jolly good fun. I toss a seal his way and relish in the crackling sound it makes when it adheres to his light. He’s maybe one or two seals away from being collected. I do hope I get the pleasure of bringing this one in. He’ll go on living after he’s collected, of course, but as soon as he dies, he’ll meet up with his soul in a happy little place called hell.

“Come on, Charlie. Let’s go.” She follows me out but doesn’t say anything. I sit down on a bench near the fountain and motion for her to sit beside me. The dude was out of line, and also a bit off-base. I mean, Charlie’s definitely not a looker, but who’s to say she won’t be when she grows out of her bad skin? Or finds the right hair stylist. Or hires an orthodontist and gets LASIK and puts on some weight and gains a morsel of confidence. I’ve seen it happen. High school dork morphs into cute college prep. “You know that guy’s just being a prick, right?”

“Yeah. It’s not a big deal.” Charlie acts like she’s watching the kids play, and she even manages a half smile. I’m surprised how well she’s handling the whole thing. A lot of girls would break down over something like this.

“You know what we should do?” My body rushes with energy. “Something crazy. I have an idea.” I take her hand, and we move to the exit closest to where we parked. “See that kiosk right there?” Charlie nods. “Let’s take something?”

Her eyebrows pull together. “Like, steal it?”

“
Steal
is an ugly word, Charlie. What we’re doing is letting loose. Something you should do more often.” I take her head in my hands and turn it back toward the kiosk. “You see, when you live life—I mean, really live it—you don’t care what anyone says about you because you’re suddenly, exhilaratingly
alive
.” She gazes at me, transfixed. “Do it, Charlie. Just try it out. If you hate it, we can return whatever you took. No one will know the difference.”

She gives a wicked smile, and I bite my upper lip to stifle a laugh. I could get used to having a sidekick gone rogue. I’m all set to give her advice on how to approach the kiosk, but she slips away before I can. She moves toward the cart of knickknacks, stealth as a leopard despite her slight limp.

As she approaches her destination, I slide my hand into my pocket and absently squeeze and release my lucky penny.

Like a pro, Charlie scouts the guy who mans the cart, determines his coordinates, estimates how much time she has.

Then it’s done.

With a subtle sweep of her small hand, she stuffs something into her pocket and makes her way toward me. Charlie presses her lips together, and her eyes become enormous. She’s trying to stop herself from laughing, and so am I.

As we head toward the exit, I turn around and see the guy staring at us. He takes a step forward and stops.
Crap, he knows
. He didn’t catch her in the act, so he’s not sure what to do. If he accuses her and he’s wrong, it’ll cost him his job. He waits too long, and now it’s too late.

Charlie and I burst through the double glass doors, and she erupts with laughter.

“Holy crap,” she says. “That was crazy!” She pulls her stolen hairpin out of her pocket and shows it to me. I raise my open hand over my head, and Charlie tries to jump to give me a high five. She’s too short, and it makes me double over and laugh, too. The sight is so ridiculous.

“What now?” I say.

Some of the excitement in Charlie’s face falls away. “I should really get home. My grandma will wonder where I am. And oh, man. Her car. We’ve got to go.”

“Come on, we’re on a roll,” I plead. “Let’s do something else.”

Charlie wraps her arms around herself. “No, I really need to go. I’ve never skipped school before, and I’ve certainly never stolen anything. Especially not my grandma’s car.”

“Like I said, we didn’t steal her car. We borrowed it.”

“Yeah, Dante. Hanging out with you has been, like, so fun.” She puts her hands on her hips, a sign that I shouldn’t push my luck. “But I need to go home now.”

“All right, let’s get you home. Keys.” Charlie tosses me the keys, and I somehow catch her disastrous throw.

I let her walk in front of me while I think about what I’m about to do. I’m not sure why I’m hesitating. There’s no time to hesitate. Ten days. That’s all I have. And there’s no gray line for theft.

I stare at Charlie until a shining light engulfs her small frame. It’s so bright, so devastatingly bright. I point my finger and release a seal. It attaches to her soul and stays there.

And damn it if she doesn’t turn around at this very moment…and smile.