He snatched the envelope out of her hand, noting the distinctive scarring across her palm—he wasn’t the only one marked by the fire. Quickly he turned his back to her, preferring to look anywhere else, as he tore open the envelope.
Inside was a card with a picture of pink roses bathed in a sickly, yellow light. It looked perfectly innocent, if a little tacky. As he opened the card, a twenty-dollar bill fell to the ground. He bent down and picked it up.
A shadow crossed his face.
“What is it?” Jade asked impatiently, her voice sounding a touch less bored than usual.
Ellis rubbed his face, then held the card out for everyone to see. Printed inside was a generic message: HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY.Someone had handwritten a message below it:Only the truth will set you free.
“Seriously?” Jade scrunched up her nose in confusion. “What’s that even mean? And what’s with ‘happy anniversary’?Happy? I’m sorry but that’s messed up.”
She had a point. Tomorrow would be exactly one year since the fire. If someone knew they were from St. Francis High, then they had to know about the fire, about the deaths. Ellis looked around at the worried faces.
“Look, I don’t know. It’s nothing. Probably the only card they could get on short notice.” He suddenly needed to get away from the smoldering bus—from these idiots. He handed the card back to Danny’s sister, discreetly slipping the twenty-dollar bill into his pocket. His hands were starting to shake a little. He folded his arms before anyone could see. Show no weakness. “Let’s go and check in. First come, first served,” he added.
That got them going. Jade grabbed Jax by the hand and practically took off for the reception area, closely followed by the others.
Ellis waited until they’d all left, turning to look at the bus; red embers glowed through the hollowed-out windows, like a row of fiery eyes glaring back at him. The truth was, he didn’t know what was happening here. Maybe the bus had overheated. Maybe the motel was just a cheap rip-off, and the card was an unfortunate coincidence. Maybe there were perfectly logical explanations for all of this. It was just…it didn’t feel right.
He put his hand into his pocket, his fingers playing with the twenty-dollar bill, pulling at the edges. He swallowed nervously.
Clearly, someone wanted them here. They were stumbling forward, figuring things out as they went. But the inescapable fact was that theywere trapped at the Motel Loba. Maybe tomorrow things would sort themselves out. But for now, for tonight, they were playing someone’s game, and they didn’t know the rules.
3
Ana
“Hey, neighbor.”
Ana froze. This was not good. She glanced up to see Alex unlocking the door next to hers. What were the odds he’d be in the room next door? She’d waited until the others had chosen their rooms before grabbing a random key. Mentally she kicked herself for not paying more attention.
“Destined to always be neighbors, right?” Alex said. He seemed nervous.
“Looks like it.” Ana bit her lip, avoiding eye contact. This was going to be awkward. She had spent the better part of a year listening at her door every time she went out, just to be sure she wouldn’t run into Alex in the hallway between their apartments. Now here he was, front and center, for three whole days. Unavoidable.
“Want help with that?” Alex nodded to the key. She was violently jamming it into the lock. Damn thing wouldn’t budge.
“No, er…I’m good.” This was the closest she’d been to him in months. He was taller than he used to be. She hadn’t noticed from adistance, but standing here, she could sense the change. The angles were all wrong. She had to crane her neck to look up at him.
That wasn’t the only thing that had changed. After a year of hanging out with the beautiful people, he’d started to look like one of them. His chest and arms had filled out, his Lakers T-shirt was stretched tight in all the right places, his face was squarer, and there were still traces of the boy she knew, but they were impermanent, brief flashes. He wasn’t a kid anymore.
Ana blushed.
“Hey, um, I won’t keep you,” Alex said. “I just…I wanted to ask how Carmen’s doing? I haven’t seen her about much these days.”
“Er…good. Fine. Mom’s fine. Yes. Thanks for asking.”
Ana used the term “fine” loosely, as in “still functioning, despite the death of her only son, loss of her job, and an over-reliance on antidepressants.” Her mom wasn’t the same person that Alex used to know. But then, who was?
“Okay, sure. That’s good.” Alex’s voice was quiet. He knew Ana wanted to get away from him, it was obvious. The hurt registered in his eyes. His eyes—the only thing that hadn’t changed about him. The same soft brown, gentle eyes. God, everything about him hurt. Everything stirred up stuff she couldn’t face.
The stupid lock wouldn’t open. She yanked hard on the door, pulling it towards the jamb, and tried the key again and again.
It was starting the way it always started. A noise, a roar was beginning somewhere in her head behind her ears. With all the drama—the bus exploding and the creepy card—she could feel how close she was to the edge. At least a year of therapy with the incompetent school psychologist, Mr. Dankman, had taught her one useful thing: she knew when she was hitting her limits.
It would be okay. She could handle this, she told herself. She’ddone it before, too many times to count. She justreallyneeded to be alone, now.
“Hey, some of the guys were thinking of meeting up by the pool later,” Alex said, nodding in the direction of the fenced area in the middle of the parking lot. “You know, blow off some steam, make the most of this whole situation. I thought I’d go for a bit. I don’t really want to be sitting alone in my room tonight, tomorrow being the anniversary and all. I thought you might want to come…if you wanted company or something?”
