The Pack by Elisa Carbone

Author:Elisa Carbone
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group

thirteen

“I’M INSANE,” I said. “This is absolutely insane. I’ve gone off the deep end.”

We’d told Omar’s mom we were going out for a walk, which was true, and Omar and Akhil now flanked me as we walked down the dark street toward Kyle’s house.

“I’ll have a heart attack before I can get any information. You know how it is with fat people, we can have heart attacks at a very young age.”

Akhil linked his arm through mine to steady me, but having him touch me only made me more unsteady. “Omar and I will open the door for you—very quietly. And we’ll stay right there,” Akhil was saying. “As soon as you step back outside, it’ll be all over. We’ll be there—if you’ve taken anything, you just hand it to us, and your part is over.”

“Taken anything?!?” I said it too loud, and Omar shushed me.

“You know, plans, models, whatever you find that might help us figure out what the boy is up to,” said Omar quietly.

“Great,” I said. “So when he comes back on Sunday he’ll go to his room and yell, ‘Hey, Mom, have you seen my model of what the school will look like after I detonate five tons of dynamite in Dr. Mack’s office?’”

They laughed but also looked at me funny, like they couldn’t figure out how I’d switched from freaking out to joking around so quickly. I wasn’t sure either. I think I was beyond all reasonable emotions.

When we arrived at Kyle’s house, the lights in the family room were on, and even from outside we could hear the television.

“Okay, it’s after ten,” Akhil said, looking at his watch. “She’s probably passed out in front of the TV, so don’t let the lights and noise worry you.” Akhil claimed to be an expert on the way alcoholics spend their evenings because he’d lived with a foster family for a while in England in which both the parents were raging drunks. I stood back from the door and let the boys work with the keys. I tried to take peaceful, slow breaths but hyperventilated instead. I pictured the foyer, the hallway, the kitchen and family room off to the side. I could easily get to the hallway without disturbing anyone in those other rooms. As I pictured it, I began to feel removed, as if I were floating above my body. A strange calm edged its way in past my fear, and when the door swung open silently, I slipped off my shoes and simply walked inside.

A drama show blared from the family room. The hallway was dark. I glided to the first door on the left and stepped in. The black ceiling gave it an oppressive feeling. Omar had given me a tiny, pen-size flashlight, which I used to look over the stacks of books, papers, CDs, and video games. Stealthily, I opened notebooks, read lines of notes about engineering and physics, listened to my own breath in the quiet room.

Normal, I thought. These are normal things for a high school sophomore to have in his room.

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