Save the Date by Morgan Matson

Author:Morgan Matson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

SATURDAY

* * *

CHAPTER 16

Or, Nothing Is Wrong!!!

* * *

I WOKE UP TO SOMETHING cold and wet pressing against my cheek. My eyes flew open, and there was Waffles’s blurry outline, his nose against my face, looking at me intently. “Jeez,” I said, wiping my face and scooting back against the couch cushions.

I put on my glasses and glanced at the couch next to mine, but it was empty, the blankets folded neatly and the pillow stacked on top of them. I reached for my phone to check the time and then remembered it was still dead. I’d just swung my legs down to the ground when Waffles looked up at the ceiling and started to growl.

I looked up as well, praying it wasn’t a huge spider—but there was nothing there. “What?” I asked him. But the dog was staring fixedly up at it, his eyes tracking something I couldn’t see, his growl getting louder. I watched him do this, wondering if this meant that, on top of a broken alarm, we now had a ghost.

I grabbed my sweatshirt from the floor and pulled it on as I walked across to the front hall, Waffles following at my heels. It was colder today than it had been yesterday—and I found myself wishing I’d brought some slippers with me as I continued into the kitchen.

I pushed open the door and saw Bill standing by the kitchen counter. “Hey,” I said, stepping inside.

“Hey,” Bill said, smiling wide at me. He was wearing jeans and a navy T-shirt with the green Where There’s A Will fleece I’d seen the day before.

“So,” I said, wondering how long he’d been up—he was dressed, after all, and certainly looked more awake than I felt. I just hoped I hadn’t kept him up, snoring or talking in my sleep. I crossed the kitchen to plug my phone in, and saw on the silver wall clock that it was just after seven. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not good.” This voice came from the kitchen table, and I looked over, startled, to see Max sitting there, hunched over. He had a long scratch on his arm that looked fresh—it was bright red.

“Oh,” I said, blinking at him as Waffles ran across the kitchen, ears flapping. “Um, are you okay? What happened to your hand?”

Max looked down at it, then immediately pulled his hand into his hoodie sleeve. “Nothing,” he said, too quickly. “I’m just . . . clumsy.”

Before I could ask for details, Waffles scratched at the door with one paw, then turned and looked at me. “You need to go out?” I asked, as though the dog were going to answer me. I opened the door and he tore into the backyard. As I closed the door, the alarm system let out three long beeps, then fell silent. “This is doing it when you close the door now?” I asked the kitchen in general. “What use is an alarm that goes off when you close the door?” I looked at the coffee maker, which was, sadly, both empty and quiet.

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