Read It and Weep! (4 page)

It was whispered and seemed to be coming from all around her. Maybe it was only the wind. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Yes. Definitely the wind.

Charlotte!

“Who's there?” she called, slowing to a stop.

There was no answer.

A cold stab of fear struck her. She knew she was closer to the other side of the wooded area than where she'd entered, so she proceeded straight, beginning to run, her backpack bouncing on her back.

I'm coming for youuuuu!

Now she was sprinting full speed and praying she wouldn't trip over the uneven terrain and the many roots and brambles in her path. It was so dark in this wood. At any minute she expected the same cold hand to land on her shoulder, just like in her cousins' basement.

The path curved slightly to the left, and she saw a dimly-lit patch of grass ahead. The baseball field. Don't trip. Don't trip. Don't trip.

Charrrrrrrrloooooooote!

She burst out of the woods and onto the baseball field, panting and whimpering.

And almost ran smack into Lauren.

“Charlotte? What's up? What's the matter? You look awful!”

“Lauren!” said Charlotte, relief flooding through her. “I just—I thought—” She stopped herself. She couldn't tell Lauren what had just happened. The last thing she needed was for her new friend to think she was hearing voices. “Nothing,” she said. “I just forgot—”

“A Midsummer Night's Dream?”
Lauren interrupted, holding the book up. “I know. You left it on your desk in social studies. I just finished play rehearsal and was on my way to bring it to you. And to pick up that card you wanted me to show to my aunt.”

Charlotte smiled. Her heartbeat was slowing to a normal pace now. She must have imagined the voice in the woods. “Thank you so much. That's awesome.” She took the book, dug the card out of her bag, and handed it to Lauren.

Lauren shoved the card into her bag and tilted her head to the side, scrutinizing Charlotte closely. “You sure you're okay? You look really pale and freaked out.”

“I'm fine,” said Charlotte. “Thanks again for the book.”

The twins were sitting at the kitchen table, doing homework, when Charlotte walked in.

“Charlotte! Can you help us with integers?” asked Thomas, before Charlotte had even closed the door.

“Hello, yourself,” said Charlotte, swinging her heavy backpack off her shoulders and plunking it into an empty chair.

Their mom came bustling into the kitchen, her head down as she finished tying the waistband of her nursing scrubs. She looked up and almost collided with Charlotte.

“Oh! Hi, honey!” She turned toward the twins. “Jonathan, Thomas, run up and get changed. The Kenersons will be here in a half hour to bring you to the game. I've got sandwiches and waters on the counter.”

“Mom, can I have a smartphone?” asked John, sliding back from the table and heading for the door.

Their mother let out a guffaw. “Yeah, sure. As
if
.”

Thomas rolled his eyes at his brother. “Dude, nice try!”

Their mom picked up her pocketbook. “I have to get back to the hospital. Good luck in your game, you two. I'll be home late, so Char's in charge.”

She gave Charlotte a quick kiss on the cheek and grabbed her keys.

“Hey,” said Charlotte. “Any word from Daddy?”

Her mother paused with her hand on the knob. She turned to Charlotte and shook her head quickly.

“It's been three days,” said Charlotte, as though her mother didn't know that. She could tell the boys were listening too, by the way they'd stopped at the door.

“I know. But he did tell us it might be hard to communicate for a few days, remember?”

Charlotte nodded, regarding her mother carefully. She was getting good at assessing her mother's face to see just how worried, or not worried, she was. She didn't seem unusually worried, Charlotte noted with relief. And it wasn't like her dad was in combat. He just fixed stuff, like things inside of airplanes. Of course he was fine.

“He'll be home soon,” said her mother with a determinedly cheerful smile. “Bye, guys.”

Three minutes later, Charlotte heard a howl from upstairs, followed by a second howl.

“They're
pink
!” yelled Jon.

“
Bright
pink!” added Thomas.

Charlotte groaned. The soccer uniforms. She'd forgotten about turning them pink. Her mom must have forgotten too.

The twins came stomping into the kitchen. Charlotte had to acknowledge that there was a definite pink tint to their white uniforms, and their socks were even pinker.

“You guys look fine,” said Charlotte brightly. “No one will notice. Mom can bleach them this weekend. It's only one game.”

Charlotte and the boys worked on their homework for a few minutes before Charlotte heard a toot from a car horn in the driveway.

“They're here,” she said, and, shoving the twins' bags into their hands, she propelled them out the door.

As soon as her brothers had left, Charlotte called Lauren. “Hey,” Charlotte said. “Thanks again for bringing me the book.”

“You're welcome,” said Lauren, not sounding like her usual enthusiastic self. “Now you can return the favor. What are the pages of social studies that we're supposed to read tonight?”

“I can check,” said Charlotte. Cradling the phone under her chin, she pulled out her planner. “Pages 167 to 172,” she said. “How come you don't have your planner?”

“Forgot it,” said Lauren. “Must have left it in my locker. I
never
leave stuff in my locker.”

“Yeah. You
never
leave stuff in your locker.
I'm
the one who usually leaves stuff lying around and calls
you
,” agreed Charlotte.

“Yes, it's been quite the exciting afternoon since I last saw you,” said Lauren. “My dad got a speeding ticket. And the whole reason he was speeding, even though he was barely speeding, was that he was late for a meeting for some grant thing he applied for. So he missed the meeting. And now he's worried he's not going to get the grant.
And
as I was walking home from school today, a guy walking his dog suddenly decided to stop dead in the middle of the sidewalk to send a text, and I smacked right into him and we both went flying.”

“Oh no!” said Charlotte. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” said Lauren shortly. “Just feel stupid is all. And while I was lying on the ground, the stupid dog slobbered all over me. I've washed my face three times. Honestly, there should be a law against texting on the sidewalk.”

Charlotte told Lauren about her brothers' pink uniforms.

“That's bad,” agreed Lauren. “They're pretty much never going to live that one down. Which means they'll probably never forgive you.”

“Thanks for being so uplifting,” said Charlotte drily. “So did you have a chance to ask your aunt about that card?”

“No, I couldn't today. I called her just as she was going off somewhere for the evening. She said she won't be back until late. I'll head over there tomorrow after rehearsal.”

“Okay—watch out for texting dog walkers!” joked Charlotte. She clicked off her phone.

Chapter 5

The next morning Lauren woke up having trouble breathing. She felt intense pressure on her chest. What was happening? Her mind was still groggy with sleep. Her eyes opened.

Teddy, her dog, was sitting on her stomach, panting cheerfully.

She groaned and rolled over, causing him to scrabble to regain his footing on top of her hip. She peered at the clock. It was only five fifteen!

“Teddy! It's too early!” She tried to shove him off the bed, but he jumped right back up again. This was his way of saying he needed to go outside.

Why hadn't he bothered her dad? He usually walked Teddy in the morning. That was the arrangement they had. Her dad kept odd hours, but he almost always woke up early. Lauren walked Teddy in the late afternoon, when she got home from play rehearsal. Lauren also made dinner most nights. She was probably the only middle schooler on the planet who'd actually gotten sick of pizza. Because her dad couldn't cook anything except scrambled eggs, she'd learned to make quite a few things. She was getting pretty good. She wasn't ready to be a TV chef yet, but she wasn't bad.

She rolled out of bed, scooped Teddy up in her arms, and padded toward her dad's room. His bed was empty and looked like he hadn't slept in it at all.

She found him downstairs at his desk. The desk lamp was still on, and he was asleep, his unshaven cheek resting on his arm, which was draped across his notebook.

“Dad?” she said, shaking him gently by the arm.

He woke up almost at once, massaging his face with his open palms as though trying to get the circulation going again.

“Lauren! What time is it?” he asked.

“Too early for me to get up,” she said, dumping Teddy on the desk in front of him. “He wants to go outside.”

Her dad stood up. He was still fully dressed from the night before. “Okay, honey, I'll take him,” he mumbled. He pulled his sport coat off the back of his chair, shrugged his arms into it, and headed out with Teddy.

As Lauren trudged back upstairs for a couple more hours of sleep, she wished, for perhaps the thousandth time, that her father didn't work so much. Maybe then he'd have time to meet someone who would make sure he didn't sleep in his clothes at his desk all night. It was just a little too much responsibility for her.

Lauren ended up oversleeping. She woke up to the sound of her iPod playing and wondered how long she'd been listening to it in her dreams. With one eye she saw that it was nearly seven thirty. Ten minutes to get to the bus.

She leaped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and hastily packed up her stuff. As she passed into the kitchen to grab a bagel, she saw that her father had fallen back asleep, this time on the living room couch. Teddy was curled up next to him. He stirred, just as she had her hand on the front door.

“Have a good day, honey,” he said, his words still slurred with sleepiness.

“Thanks,” she said. “How come you fell asleep at your desk?”

He sat up, dumping Teddy to the floor. “I got turned down for my grant proposal, so I'm working on revising it and trying for another one,” he admitted. “The deadline's looming, and I haven't been able to replicate my results. I still have a lot of data to analyze.”

Lauren nodded. “Sorry about that, Daddy,” she said. “I'll be home tonight to take Teddy out and make supper.”

As she trudged to the bus stop, she pondered her father's situation. The week before, he'd been so excited, telling her he was on the verge of a breakthrough. And now he looked so disappointed. What bad luck.

She looked both ways before turning onto the sidewalk from her front walkway. She never knew if some skateboarder would be bearing down on her from any direction in this neighborhood. Or if a dog walker might happen along who was texting and not looking where he was going.

It started raining when she was halfway to the bus stop. Too late to turn around and go home for an umbrella. Great.

This was not just a drizzle. Fat, heavy drops immediately darkened the pavement. It was promising to be a downpour. She swiveled her backpack around to the front and put her arms through the straps backward, trying to keep it more or less dry under her cardigan sweater. She wondered if it would occur to her dad to notice that it was raining and give her a ride to school so she wouldn't have to wait for the bus. Doubtful. He tended not to notice stuff like rain when he was in the middle of a big project.

Luckily the bus arrived pretty quickly, and she sank gratefully into a seat in the middle. She usually sat by herself for two stops before Gwen got on and joined her. Gwen Drayton was in her English and Spanish classes. Last year when Lauren had been the new kid, Gwen had gone out of her way to be friendly, even inviting Lauren to join her at the smart kids' table in the cafeteria. And even though Gwen was the kind of annoying smart kid who always moaned about how she was sure she'd failed every test they took and then later sheepishly admitted to acing it, Lauren had to admit that Gwen was pretty great. She had also been super-welcoming to Charlotte when Lauren had introduced her to the smart-kid group this year.