The Sleepover (18 page)

Max cackles as he ends the call and addresses his audience.

“And that is how mayhem begins. Now for stage two. Because Sammy and I have been doing some Internet research on hypnosis, we have something a little more fun in mind for the girls downstairs. Follow us.”

Max gestures to the camera. Sammy sets it on the desk next to the computer and aims at the screen where editing software is open.

“Observe,” Max orders. He runs the video he'd taken in the basement of Madame Mesmer hypnotizing us, hitting record on the screen anytime she speaks. He closes out the video portion and concentrates on the audio recording he just made. From Madame Mesmer's instruction to have fun “until you can't stay awake anymore,” Max isolates the word “until.” From her reassurance, “I want you to remember that” he gets “remember.”

When he's finally done, he has a very convincing clip of Madame Mesmer's voice saying the words, “Okay, girls! One more thing I forgot. I want you girls to have fun like you've
never had fun before, but even when you snap out of your hypnosis, I don't want you to remember any of what happened until you hear the next trigger words. You will forget everything until you hear the words
Las Vegas
. That's all. Have fun!”

In a few places the editing isn't perfect—there are short gaps between the words, and it's clearly Max's disguised voice saying
Las Vegas
—but for the most part, it sounds a lot like the hypnotist herself is giving the instructions.

Jake's mouth is hanging open. “Max is diabolical,” he says, and there's something that sounds just a little bit like respect, or at the very least awe, in his voice.

But I barely notice. My head is spinning in a thousand directions at once. The second I heard the words
Las Vegas
on the video, my mind exploded with hundreds of memories from the night before. I remember scooping up the baby ducklings in Miss Shanley's classroom and tucking them into the hood of Jake's sweatshirt, which he gave to me for that express purpose. That's why I had his sweatshirt! I remember tripping in the pitch black and sliding into the dewy grass outside Hillside Heights when we snuck over to “liberate” their ducks. I remember Anna Marie offering me her hand and helping me up, and I remember the two of us giggling our heads off as we pushed Hedgie the Havocking Hedgehog through our neighborhood to Jake's garage. Jake! I remember hanging out with Jake last night
after everyone else had gone to bed. Oh! I remember now.

“I remember!” Veronica says, and she sounds as awestruck as I feel.

“Me too!” Paige says, looking to me for confirmation. I nod at them both and steal a peek at Jake, whose eyes are locked on my face. He smiles.

It only takes about a minute before we lose momentum and flop back onto Veronica's cot to process everything. I feel kind of dazed.

Paige giggles. “Everything's rushing back at once. Oh whoa. We prank called Miss Shanley asking for ransom on the ducklings!”

I clap a hand over my mouth to stop my horrified laugh. “We so totally did! Do you think she'll remember? Or, wow, do you think she can trace the phone number?”

Paige considers for a second and then says, “Nah, we used Anna Marie's cell. I'm sure the school only has home numbers and parents' cells in their records.”

Well, thank God for small miracles. At least we couldn't have called anywhere on my Ladybug phone. Other than my mother, of course, and I'm extremely relieved that my newfound memories don't include any suicide missions of that nature.

Jake stands behind the cot, tapping his legs again. “Um,
guys, not to interrupt the party or anything, but does any of this remembering clue you in to Anna Marie's whereabouts? You know, since she's still missing and all.”

I study my lap, ashamed we were laughing and joking about prank calls at a time like this. Paige blows her hair out of her face, and Veronica shrugs sadly. Finally I whisper, “I got nothing.” The other two shake their heads also, and the four of us are silent for a long moment, while I stroke absently at the spot where my eyebrow used to reside. I gasp.

“Oh my God! I did this to
myself
! I remember now. We were playing Truth or Dare. . . .”

Paige's lip goes up in one corner. “And you chose truth but then refused to answer.”

Jake looks interested. “What was so secret you'd rather shave off on entire eyebrow before answering?”

I lunge across the couch at Paige, clamping my hand over her mouth before she can answer that. Now that I remember everything, I know exactly the truth I was protecting. Unfortunately, I'm not within arm's reach of Veronica.

“All she had to do was tell us was her most secret daydream.”

I'm pretty sure I'm stoplight red. Jake looks equal parts embarrassed and sick to his stomach because, obviously, he can guess that one by now. He murmurs, “Oh.”

Veronica shakes her head. “I don't get what the big deal is. We can all figure out it's—”

B
ut this time I'm faster. I stand up the very second Veronica's mouth opens, and I practically tackle her to the ground before she can finish her sentence.

“A kiss from Jkkkkkk,” comes the muffled word as she rolls out from under me. I squeak and bury my face in the carpet. I mean, I'm sure he guessed that already, but there's thinking it, and then there's knowing it. Thanks a lot, Veronica.

Paige, good friend that she is, tries to create a distraction by saying, “Does anyone have paper and pen? I think we should make a list of everything we remember from last night. Maybe we'll find some clue that will lead to Anna Marie.”

Veronica bounces back up and grabs a pen from her camping table next to the cot. She pushes her sleeve up and aims the pen at her arm. “I can write it. I took a stenography course at summer camp.”

Jake is still studying his shoes. I roll over and rise to a seated
position, crossing my legs and practicing deep-breathing techniques as subtly as I can. It doesn't matter if my social life will be over after my mom finds out about last night, because I will be too busy dying of humiliation to care. I almost wish my mother would show up now instead of forty-five minutes from now when she's supposed to pick me up.

I'm avoiding looking at Jake (yet again), but I can't help glancing up when he clears his throat. I bring my eyes up to his face and find him staring straight at me! He jerks his head in the direction of the basement door, raising his eyebrows in question. Wait, is he . . . Does he want me to go outside with him? Outside, like last night. I remember sitting at the picnic table with Jake, after everyone else had gone to bed. When Anna Marie had gone to bed. She'd been safe and sound and tucked into a sleeping bag.

And I'd been outside. With Jake Ribano. Alone.

Slowly, very slowly, I nod and get up from the couch. Paige glances at me and wiggles her eyebrows when I brush past her to weave behind the sofa next to Jake. I ignore her. I murmur, “We'll be right back,” and follow Jake out the door. I don't dare glance behind me to see the expressions on Veronica's and Paige's faces.

Anna Marie's basement opens onto a cement patio shaded by a large deck above it. Four thick ropes are bolted to the underneath part of the deck, and they're used to hang a porch
swing. Jake heads directly to it. He holds it steady and motions with a nod for me to hop on. When I've pushed myself against the back, letting my legs dangle above the ground, he sits down too. He sits right next to me. His leg brushes mine and makes me shiver just a little. I flash back to the image of him securing the bike helmet around my chin, and shiver again.

“Are you cold?” he asks. “Want me to grab your sleeping bag from inside or something?”

I'm supernervous now that it's just Jake and me, especially since he knows about my crush on him, but I manage a tiny laugh. “No, it's okay. I already have your sweatshirt. I can't take all your clothes.”

Oh, Meghan, Meghan, Meghan. Why do you say the dumbest things ever?
Sheesh. Now it's Jake's turn to blush, and I honestly hadn't even meant anything by that comment. It just . . . came out differently than I'd intended.

What is going on here anyway? Why did Jake want to talk to me outside? I need to get myself under control. I have a best friend to find. Even if we are out of clues and there's less than an hour until my mom arrives, which means Mrs. Guerrero is definitely going to be home very soon, and there basically isn't a thing any of us can do besides wait for that to happen.

Oh. He's looking at me. What? Is it my eyebrow? Did he say something and I was too busy talking to myself in my head to realize it? Because that happens more than I'd like to admit.

But he's staring at me with a friendly look on his face, like we share a secret or something. Right then and there I decide Anna Marie would totally forgive me if I took a ten-minute time-out from the search party. Anna Marie loves love. Not that this is love, but, um, like. Definite strong like. On my part, at least.

Jake's knee bumps against mine (on purpose?), and I break eye contact, jumping a little and yanking my leg away in surprise.
Settle down, Meghan. You don't even know what he wants to talk to you about.

His voice is so quiet, I have to strain to hear it over the rumble of a lawn mower in a neighbor's yard. “So do you really remember everything from last night?”

I remember Jake sitting across the table from me in the pitch dark, and I remember talking. More talking. Talking for what seemed like forever, even when we were so sleepy and there were long pauses between questions and I'd start to wonder if maybe he'd fallen asleep . . . right before he would finally whisper an answer. I remember him being really easy to talk to, and feeling comfortable. It makes it easier to talk to him now.

“You're not the person we all thought you were,” I say.

He looks uncomfortable. “So you do remember our talk?”

“I remember you telling me about how we'd scared you half to death when we snuck into the school last night.”

Jake grins. “You got that right!”

I turn my face and pretend to study the tree line at the back of Anna Marie's property until the red in my cheeks go away.

“Tell me again why you were doing that when you didn't have to? You said your dad was talking to the coach? I remember all of last night now, but I think I might have dozed off here and there at the end of our talk.”

Jake kicks at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “It's no huge story. With the basketball season wrapping up, my dad wanted to talk to the coach about stuff I could do to get in shape if I wanted to try out for the team next year. It was weird just standing there while they talked about me in Coach's office, so I offered to put the posters up in the gym.”

“Oh. But, um, do you really want to play basketball? Did we talk about this, too? I really think I fell asleep for parts. Sorry!”

“No biggie. I might want to play basketball, I don't know. Could be cool, ya know? Dad thinks being part of a team would be good for me, but I'm not sure. Maybe make some new friends or stuff like that.” Jake shrugs. “I figured you were dozing off. I might have been here and there too. It was pretty late. Like, three-in-the-morning late.”

“Really?” Okay, so I'm actually a tiny bit thrilled at this
information. My parents never ever let me stay up past 12:02, and even that's only on New Year's Eve and only while cuddled between them in their king-size bed watching Times Square on television.

And now I was out until
three o'clock in the morning with a boy
. My mom would have an honest-to-God heart attack right on the spot if she knew that. Either that, or she'd spin herself into orbit. It was at Anna Marie's house and my friends were right inside and nothing at all had happened, but still. Just the idea of it feels so . . . shocking. I've never done anything shocking. In. My. Life.

I bet Jake has. Or actually, now that I know him a little better, maybe not. “You're nice,” I say, and he snorts. “How come you don't let people see that?”

Jake sighs. “I do. I try to let everyone see that. I don't even know how I ended up with this stupid reputation. I guess it all has to do with that thing with Anthony Jarrett.”

I remember that, too. It is so exceedingly great to have a working memory, let me tell you. Funny the things you take for granted.

Jake is talking about his first week of school in sixth grade. He'd been new, and it was already a little into the year, when everyone had already sorted out who would sit where at lunch and who would play Four Square together at recess. I guess that wouldn't have been easy for a new kid to jump into. My
heart clenches. If only I'd been paying more attention back then. I could have been friends with him and helped him figure it all out.

Anthony is a total brownnoser. Teachers love him. All adults love him, basically. Most of the kids, too. Although, for some reason I can't explain, I never have.

On Jake's first day, Anthony had been picking on Cameron Little at recess, as per usual. Cameron lives up (or, well, down) to his last name. Poor guy. Anthony was always teasing him, and no one ever really did anything about it, even though the entire school sat through the anti-bullying assemblies every year. My gut twists a little as I suddenly realize I've never done anything about it. I always figured it was better to keep off Anthony's radar entirely, or so I've managed to convince myself. I'm way too scared of making an enemy out of him.

But Jake hadn't been. Even on his first day at a brand-new school. Maybe because it was his first day and he hadn't yet figured out how much influence Anthony had over . . . well, everyone? But no. Jake's smart. He probably knew pushing Cameron out of the way and getting right up in Anthony's face was a bad idea.