Erica is worried

Erica squinted through the darkness to the clock on her bedroom wall: 2:03.

She pulled herself up in bed and lowered her feet to the floor.

Staring at the clock, she stretched and listened to the silence.

The house was dark and still.

I’m the only one awake, Erica told herself unhappily.

Her father was still away on his business trip. Her mother had returned from a party at the neighbors’ house at about eleven-thirty and had gone right to bed.

Mom is sleeping peacefully, Erica thought. She’s such a sound sleeper, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know that it’s after two in the morning and Josie isn’t home.

I’m the only one who’s awake.

With a groan, she stood up and untwisted her nightshirt. Then she made her way across the dark room to her desk, the floorboards creaking under the thin carpet.

She clicked on the desk lamp, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the bright white light. Leaning on the edge of the desk, she reached for the phone directory.

She dropped the directory on the desk, then flipped quickly through the B’s until she found Barron. Steve’s phone number had been underlined in red ink, probably by Josie.

Keeping her finger on the number, Erica glanced up at the clock. She sighed and punched Steve’s number, leaning against the old oak desk as she waited for the ring.

“Hello?” Steve answered halfway through the third ring, his voice hoarse with sleep.

“Steve?” Erica whispered.

“Uh-huh. Who’s this?”

Erica started to reply, then heard a loud clunk.

“Sorry,” Steve said after a few seconds. “Dropped the phone.”

“Were you asleep? It’s Erica.”

“Huh? Erica?” Steve said the name as if he’d never heard it before. “Yeah. I was asleep. I... uh...”

“Steve, I’m so worried,” Erica told him, her voice revealing her fear. “Josie isn’t home.”

The line was silent for a long moment. “Not home?” Steve finally replied, sounding alert. “What time is it?”

“It’s after two,” Erica told him.

“It is?” He sounded very surprised. “But Josie should’ve been home hours ago.”

“I don’t understand,” Erica said, starting to sound more than a little frantic. “Wasn’t she with you? Didn’t you bring her home?”

“We had a fight,” Steve replied, speaking rapidly in a low, steady voice.

“You what?”

“We had a stupid argument,” Steve repeated. “It was really dumb. About skates or something. I don’t even remember what started it.”

“And what happened?” Erica asked, lowering herself into her desk chair. Her hand gripped the receiver so tightly, it began to ache.

“Well, Josie left,” he told her reluctantly.

“By herself?” Erica cried in alarm.

“No, huh-uh,” Steve answered quickly, sounding very defensive. “She left with a whole bunch of kids.”

He cleared his throat loudly, then continued. “We were all at the rink together. After we had that dumb argument, Josie left with them. With the others.” He cleared his throat again. “But—but she should have been home hours ago, Erica.”

“I know,” Erica said unhappily.

“Do you think—?” Steve started.

“Oh. Wait!” Erica interrupted. “That’s the front doorbell. That must be Josie. Bye.”

Erica hung up the receiver without waiting for Steve’s reply. Then she hurriedly padded down the front stairs in the darkness, her bare feet making the stairway groan and creak.

Eagerly, she turned the lock and, using both hands, pulled open the front door.

“Josie?” she cried.

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20