Death, Doom and Detention - Page 36/83

His mouth fell open even farther. “How did you—?” He caught himself. “You’re right. He came out to watch me. I didn’t even know it until later.” Leaning back in the chair, he furrowed his brows in thought. “But what does this mean?”

I breathed out a heavy sigh. “That’s just it. What does any of it mean? I can touch someone and get a vision. I can look at a picture and see what was happening. But honestly, in the grand scheme of things, what good do those things do anyone?”

“Lor, you’re selling yourself short.” Brooke almost glared at me. “As usual.”

“I’m not selling anything. It was sold to me. I had no choice.”

After whining a bit longer, I told Glitch about the conversation my parents had when I was born.

“And you think they were referring to your grandfather from your dad’s side?” he asked.

“Who else? My dad said, ‘She has my father’s chin’ seconds before my mom said they should tell me when I was older. It has to be him. Which leads me to Plan A.”

“Oh, crap,” Glitch said. “Whenever you guys start lettering your plans, trouble always follows. And by the time we get to Plan E—because every single plan before that has failed—all hell breaks loose.”

“Does that mean you’re out?” Brooke asked, a knowing expression on her face.

He snorted. “No way. I’m so in, it’s unreal. I just wanted you to know that if we make it to Plan E, I’m running. Far away. And possibly changing my name.”

We laughed. “It’s not that bad,” I said to ease his mind. “I just know where the records are stored. As soon as my grandparents go to bed, I’m going to sneak down to the basement and get all the information I can on him. Surely, they’ll have something.”

“Then we can do an Internet search,” Glitch said. “I can start now, actually. What was his name?”

“I only know his nickname, what they called him.”

“Oh.” Brooke looked disappointed. “That probably won’t help.”

“You never know.” He turned the chair to face my computer again. “Okay, give it to me.”

“Um, they called him Mac.”

They both looked at me. “Seriously?” she said. “A guy with the last name of McAlister and they called him Mac? How bizarre.”

“Well, I can at least use that to do a search. Do you know anything else? Like where he was from?”

“I just know that he was from the Northeast. Possibly Maine. But they moved to New Mexico long before my dad met my mother.”

“Okay, well, keep thinking.”

Brooklyn checked the clock. “What time do your grandparents go to bed?”

“Nine or ten, depending. We still have hours.” Then I grinned at her. “Plenty of time for you to do my algebra homework.”

“I’ve already done the assignment. Why don’t you just copy mine?”

With a gasp I said, “That’s cheating. Besides, that would require work on my part.” I handed her the homework sheet and a pencil. “Remember, try to write like me.”

* * *

“Lorelei?”

I turned toward the voice and tried to swim to the surface of sleep.

“Lorelei, wake up.”

It was Cameron. I recognized his voice and the not-so-gentle nudging. Was I late for school?

I pried open an eye. It was still dark outside, and the wind and rain had yet to let up. Surely there were special contingencies set aside for such mornings.

Then I bolted upright. “I fell asleep!” I said, my gaze darting about the room. Brooke was asleep too, and Glitch was sprawled on the floor, his hand resting on a pillow where his head should have been. Poor guy. He couldn’t possibly be comfortable. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. We had a Plan A.”

One corner of Cameron’s mouth lifted. “Your plans don’t always work out for the best. It’s probably good that you fell asleep.”

The last thing I remembered was Brooke demonstrating the quadratic formula as she did my homework. Which would explain the sudden onset of narcolepsy.

“Lorelei,” he said, his expression grave, “are you coherent?”

After rubbing my eyes, I gave a weak, “Kind of. Are we late?”

“No.” He took hold of my chin until I looked at him.

My brows rose in alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s back.”

No further explanation was needed. I scrambled out of bed and hustled into my robe as Cameron went to nudge Brooklyn awake. No time for nudges.

“Brooke!” I yelled, causing Cameron to jump a solid foot. I felt bad about that.

“Do you want to wake up your grandparents?” he asked.

He had a point. Before I could even question where Jared was, I kicked Glitch to wake him and tore out of the room, but Cameron grabbed hold of my arm.

“He’s outside.”

“He’s outside? In this weather?”

He nodded toward my window and I rushed to open it, hurtling Glitch in the process as he stirred to consciousness. Jared lay on the ground at the bottom of the metal fire escape, unconscious.

“Oh, my gosh,” I said, climbing out. A bitterly cold rain slashed across my face as I hurried down and knelt beside him, but nothing compared to the alarm I felt at seeing Jared unconscious.

“Lor, what are you doing?” Brooke called to me, but she quickly shushed and ducked back in for something other than pajamas to wear.