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Authors: Melanie Marks

BOOK: The Stranger Inside
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I nodded, trying not to get too excited about it, but I was glad he wanted to call. It was weird being so pathetic. But it seemed that’s how things were now. I was pathetic … and alone.

He had me write my phone number on a piece of paper. I didn’t have a working cell phone at the moment so I wrote down my mom’s home number. When I handed it back to him, he glanced at it absently, but then he did a double-take. He studied my phone number, furrowing his brow.

I got a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach as I watched his puzzled expression change to a grin. “What?” I asked.

He flashed me a mischievous look. “This isn’t your house, huh? It’s the gray one down the street.”

“Yeah.” I bit my lip, wondering how he knew that, why it had him smiling. “Why?”

“Nothing,” he said, still grinning. “I’ll call you tomorrow … Jodi.”

My heart jolted. The way he said my name—it was weird. Like a caress almost. Very, very weird. Something had happened when he saw my phone number. He’d changed. Got charged. Or excited. Something. Now he seemed to believe me. The way he said my name just now—it was like he was convinced somehow—I’m Jodi.

Very strange.

I peered at him curiously, then said slowly, “Okay.”

I got out of his car, totally baffled. What was up? My stomach knotted as I watched him drive away. What made him change like that—get so mysterious?

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

 

It turned out I didn’t need to worry about Mom’s wrath after all. She wasn’t even home yet. Shock. (Not.)

The only witness to my late arrival was Norton, my stepbrother’s German Shepherd, and he’s pretty cool about things. He just basically wags his tail a lot and tries to get attention. I gave him some now, hugging him tight. Probably too tight, as I needed a hug, but he licked my face with wise, thorough care. Licked and licked until he heard barking outside and squirmed away, padding off to gaze out the living room window.

Then I was left alone. Feeling alone.

I slunk down at the kitchen table with a deck of cards. Solitaire, that was basically my life these days—a solitary person in solitary confinement. I concentrated on the cards, trying not to think about all the stuff going on—Kenzie or my time lapses, or … anything. I mean, what could I do about them? Nothing. At least not tonight. And if I dwelled on them, even a little bit, I was going to start ripping out my hair. See, that was the thing, if I wasn’t completely nuts at the moment, worrying about it was going to get me there—fast.

Okay, I knew I should look up split personalities on the Internet. I knew I should get right on it—get rid of Kenzie. Now. Make sure she never came back. But right now, for tonight, I just wanted to forget there was a Kenzie. Forget that I probably had grief-induced split personalities.

But it was hard not to think about it. It was all I
could
think about. Someone was taking over my body when my brain zoned out. I had split personalities. I was bonkers.

The phone rang and I jumped—spooked. It rang again, jarring me anew. But still, I didn’t move for it, trying to ignore the jolt that ran through my body with each new ring. My plan was to let the machine pick up the call, too afraid if I tried answering, no sound would come out. Like in my nightmares sometimes, when I try screaming but nothing escapes my lips, just raspy, choking air. I felt like that now, like I couldn’t talk or even make a sound. I clutched my stomach, scared to even try. Besides, the machine was better at taking messages. No way was the phone for me—this wasn’t really
my
house and no one, not a soul, had called me since I got here almost a month ago. Still, at the last moment I grabbed the phone anyway, needing the comfort of a human voice, even if the voice was for someone else.

I cleared my throat, cleared it again. “Shade residence.”

“Jodi!” It was Grey. He sounded surprised to hear my voice. “I was beginning to think they had you bound and gagged—stuffed in a closet.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I smiled anyway. It was good to hear his voice. “Hi.”

“Don’t you ever answer the phone? I’ve been calling all month. You haven’t been getting my messages, have you?”

“No. I haven’t.” Suddenly, I was filled with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I was thrilled to learn he’d been calling; on the other, I was hysterically mad at my mom. She knew how miserable and lonely I’d been, but she let me mope around here, thinking I didn’t have a friend in the world. It was hard to believe anyone could be so cruel—even her.

“I knew it! Your mother’s a witch. She kept assuring me she was giving you my messages, but I knew she wasn’t. You would have called me back, right?”

Hearing the uncertainty in his voice made my stomach feel funny. This wasn’t the way it worked with me and Grey. I clung to him, not the other way around. He was older than me, not that much, but he was in college—which was why my mom didn’t approve of our friendship—well, that and the fact he lived in New York. Mom seemed to want me to forget there even was a New York.

I knitted my brow. “Of course.”

I would have called him back, immediately. Definitely. There was no question. There shouldn’t have been. Mom bit for trying to keep us apart. She didn’t need to worry about Grey. He kept me at arm’s length. Always. Pretty much. I guess if he tried to be more—let me be more—I’d probably run away screaming. At least that’s what he was always saying, and he was probably right. ‘Cause as I said, I’m broken. And scarred. Emotionally messed up. Because love sucks. Hurts so bad.

“So, how are you doing out there?” He sounded concerned. “Is everything all right?”

“Uh …” Look, what could I say to that? Moving back to the Shade’s home was a problem I had to deal with. It wasn’t like I had other options. And this thing about having split personalities, well, it wasn’t an option either—at least not one I could take care of tonight. And it wasn’t something I wanted to talk about. I just wanted it to go away. So, I lied. Because that was easier. I mean, he was clear across the country. There was nothing he could do. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Is your stepbrother giving you problems?”

I blanched, shaking my head slowly, though of course Grey couldn’t see. I swallowed, then cleared my throat, not sure I could talk about Jeremy here, in his own house. Well, what used to be his house.

I closed my eyes.
This is dumb. I’m not going to cry
. I just wished I hadn’t thought of him earlier today. Thought he was kissing me. How pathetic. “No. I haven’t even seen Jeremy since I got here. They sent him off to his sister’s house. I don’t know if the arrangement is permanent or not.” I sighed. “I hope it is.”

“Probably it is,” he said. “I mean your mom probably wouldn’t take a chance on things starting up again, right?”

“Probably not.” I said this more because he sounded troubled and I wanted to reassure him, than because I actually believed it was true. Unfortunately, the truth was, no matter how much she would like to, Mom couldn’t keep Jeremy out of his own house forever.

But Grey was worried that my feelings for Jeremy were going to get all passionate again, and they weren’t. I hoped, wished, prayed. It had been over two years. Everything had changed.

I stared at the queen of hearts in my hand, ugh, then placed it at the bottom of the deck. “Am I ever going to see you again?”

“I don’t know.” Grey sighed. “Maybe I could come out there at Christmas.” He paused, obviously rethinking his unformulated plan. “Your mom wouldn’t like that though, would she? I don’t know, maybe it’d be better to just end this thing—whatever it is.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing it wasn’t true. Still, I said it anyway. “It’s love.”

“Jodi … it’s not.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

I sighed. Yeah. I knew what he meant. “Look, things are different now.” I paced around the kitchen, getting sweaty palms. “A lot different. I’m going to be starting
college
next year.”

“Yeah, that’ll be good,” he agreed. “Look, I guess I should go. Maybe I’ll be able to come up at Christmas. We’ll see.”

“Try.”

He was silent for a moment. “You know I will.”

He said it morosely, as though he wished he wouldn’t. And sadly, I knew he wished he wouldn’t. He was my crutch. The boy I’d give my heart to if it wasn’t broken and mangled and no longer able to be given. But it was and he knew it.

After we said goodbye and hung up, I slumped down at the kitchen table feeling miserable. It had been hard enough getting to see Grey when I lived next door to his parents. Here it seemed impossible. But he was pretty much my only friend—the only one I cared about, anyway.

So yeah, this year was going to suck. Bad. But as long as Kenzie didn’t keep showing up, I could handle it. And next year things would be different. I’d be going to college—maybe with Grey. I’d be out of this house, and away from my mom and all the other Shades. That thought alone was enough to lift my spirits.

The phone rang again. This time I leapt for it, hoping it was Grey calling me back. “Hello?”

There was a long pause. “Hi.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Even from that one syllable murmur, I found myself shaking. It was Jeremy.

I knew this moment would come. I constantly tried to prepare myself for it, rehearsed for it. Still, now that it was finally here I found I wasn’t ready. Not even close.

“… Is my dad there?”

“No. They’re—he’s out. Do you want me to take a message?”

Part of me wished I had let the machine catch the call, but another part, a deep down part, wanted this moment to never end. It was Jeremy! After all these years, I was actually talking to Jeremy!

“Um, no.” His voice sounded hesitant. “That’s okay. I’ll call back.”

“They won’t be home until late.”

“Well, that’s okay. It’s no big deal, really.” He was silent for a moment. “Uh, Jodi?”

Hearing him say my name was like tiny needles pricking my heart.

“I’m really sorry about your dad.”

Tears welled in my eyes. “Thanks,” I choked. “Listen, I need to go.”

I quickly hung up the phone and laid my head against the table. And cried.
Things will get better
, I told myself.
They have to get better—they can’t get any worse
.

 

***

 

When I was done crying, I decided to stop being a wimp. Dad was dead and mom was a flake and I was on my own. Totally. No one was going to help me. If I was going to get rid of this personality in my head that called itself Kenzie, I had to do it myself.

I grabbed my laptop and went outside to the porch. Plopping down on the front steps, I wrapped a blanket around my legs as the summer night air had turned kind of chilly. Then I listened to my iPod as I looked up people’s grief-process stories on the Internet.

I read that during the grief process a lot of people dealt with blackouts and time-lapses and going through their lives on autopilot, that kind of stuff, stuff I had been going through … before. But no one mentioned developing split personalities—becoming a totally different persona. Of course, probably no one else had had to deal with their dad dying the way mine did. So violent and scary. So maybe my process was worse than theirs. I had more to deal with … so maybe my process was bigger. Weirder?

Maybe.

It made sense. Kind of. I looked up into space, considering everything I’d read. Then I did a double take, my heart getting all violent. Sawyer’s black Mustang was across the street. He was sitting in it, watching me.

I shivered.

How long had he been there, doing that?

I stared at him for a long moment with mixed feelings. I couldn’t decide if it was creepy … or super creepy. What was he doing? Was the dude a stalker?

I thought about running into the house to call the police. Well, not really, I didn’t truly consider it, but it seemed like maybe I should.

“Hey,” he said through the open window when he saw he had my attention. He raised his eyebrows. “Want to go for a ride?”

No, I didn’t. I wanted to read about split personalities and figure out if I had one. Figure out how to get rid of Kenzie.

After I just stared at him from my spot on the porch, he motioned for me to come over to him. I hesitated, but didn’t want to be rude exactly, and really, just a little bit ago I had been crying about being alone. So I got up and hid my laptop under my blanket. Not that anyone was going to come on my porch this late at night and steal it—not that they would during the middle of the day either. Still.

I walked over to Sawyer’s car, but kept my distance.

“I’m not stalking you,” he said. “I was just worried about you. When I dropped you off there weren’t any lights on at your house. I figured you’d be alone. And it didn’t really seem like you should be alone.”

I bit my lip. That was kind of nice—checking up on me. I mean, sort of stalker-like, but still nice.

Sawyer eyed the distance I was keeping from his car. He cocked his head, giving me a look, like
Really?
But he didn’t say anything about it. He just tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel looking frustrated. Finally he said, “I was wondering if maybe you want to go up to Dover’s Ridge with me. It’s my favorite place. That’s where I took Kenzie today. You wanted to know what we did—that’s what we did, where we went. I want to take you there. As you.”

I bit my lip, actually considering what he was suggesting. Maybe if I went there, it would jog my memory. Maybe I would remember being there—Dover’s Ridge. I hoped it so badly I practically leapt for his car.

Sawyer watched me hop into the passenger seat, his head tilted, studying me as though my every move was fascinating. But all he said was, “You should probably buckle up. I’ve been known to speed.”

 

***

 

Dover’s Ridge was beautiful, located up in the mountains near a cliff, the twinkling stars above us and the city below. Sawyer built us a fire, but we kept our backs to it so we could feel its warmth but still gaze out at the breathtaking view the cliff provided. It was nice. Really nice. So was Sawyer. I could tell this was like a make-out spot for him, but he didn’t try any moves on me. He was sweet and gentlemanly and asked me all kinds of questions about myself, seeming to eat up everything I had to say like I was a magical creature from another planet.

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