Lost Girls of Kato by Quinn Avery

Lost Girls of Kato by Quinn Avery

Author:Quinn Avery
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jennifer Naumann


15

JACKIE - 1986

The crisp October air seeps through my sweatshirt as I push my bike a little faster toward J.R.’s house on the hill. Fallen leaves of red and gold crunch beneath my tires, and the woodsy scent of burning leaves surrounds me like a warm hug. It won’t be long before snow begins to fall, forcing me to ditch my bike and walk in ugly red and white moon boots that give me blisters once I wear the thickest pair of socks I own.

Halloween is only a week away, but for the first time in my life I’m not concerned with Trick-or-Treating, or finding a costume at the secondhand store. With Becky, Shannon, and Heidi still missing, I doubt the adults in charge of the city would let us go without our parents this year anyway. And I’m sure J.R. would think dressing up was for babies since he’s in high school.

I hold my breath as I walk my bike around to the backside of the house, glad to at least find the garage door open and no car inside. J.R.’s window is closed and is covered by a navy blue curtain. I press my ear against the windowpane, expecting to hear the robotic sounds of video games or maybe one of his dad’s electropop records. It’s dead silent. I shift my weight back and forth, trying to decide whether I should leave or wait to hear some kind of noise. I would hate to wake him if he’s resting. I also don’t want him to know I’m here if he happens to be crying like the last time I stood outside his window.

The curtains all at once part. I let out a little squeak of surprise when J.R. frowns back at me through the window, his dark sweat pants and oversized t-shirt wrinkled. I’m glad to see for myself that he’s where I thought he would be and he’s alive, but he’s cradling his torso with his good hand, dark shadows lurk beneath his eyes, and he’s as white as a ghost. When he reaches out to tug the window open, I don’t miss the way he winces.

Confusing emotions bubble up inside my stomach. I want to both hug J.R. and yell at him for making that stupid call because Diane made him. I want to hurt his dad for doing this to him. I want to run through the neighborhood, asking any other adult I can find for help.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he rasps in a way that makes the hairs on my neck stand straight.

“What’s wrong with your voice?”

“Nothing,” he grumbles. “Go home, Jackie.”

Fat tears of anger and sadness blur my vision when I notice the angry red lines along his neck. “What did he do to you?”

“It doesn’t matter. If he catches me talking to you he’ll do worse.”

“You can’t stay here with him, J.R. What if next time he—”

His eyes briefly close. “I know. I’m running away.”

Pain sharper than knives stabs at my stomach. I don’t want him to leave.



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