Lost Boy by Chanda Hahn

Author:Chanda Hahn [Hahn, Chanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-9961048-9-0
Publisher: Chanda Hahn

Chapter Eighteen

Wendy’s head throbbed as her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at the ceiling of her bedroom. Her bedroom? The last memory she had was being in the school library. Her hand felt along the back of her scalp, and she winced when she felt the beginnings of a goose egg. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and tried to stand up, immediately falling back onto her bed.

Her whole body was limp like spaghetti. A few minutes later, she tried again and was rewarded with making it to her doorway.

Wendy made it downstairs to the kitchen and looked for her parents. They weren’t home. She found a note on the dining room table. Her mom was at the craft store, and they were supposed to put the casserole in the oven at five so it would be done when her Dad got home from work.

She preheated the oven and pulled the glass casserole dish out of the fridge. It was homemade lasagna. Wendy put it on the counter and headed back to the freezer for an ice pack.

She hissed when she put pressure on the bump as she waddled into the living room and looked out the front door. She didn’t see her car in the front, but she had driven to school that day. So, how did she make it home without John or the car? It was like a horrifying episode of the Twilight Zone. The mantel clock read close to five, and she wasn’t sure what time her parents would be home.

She reached for her cell phone to text John, but it was still dead. She frantically searched the house for the charger and plugged it in. She was waiting for the screen to start when the doorbell rang.

Wendy tiptoed back to the door and opened it a crack, peering outside.

Peter was leaning against the doorframe. He grinned. “Hey.”

She slammed the door in his attractive face.

No. No. No! Her cheeks grew warm as she looked in the hall mirror and patted her messed-up hair, and then froze in horror at a black smear across her shirt.

He knocked again, and she backed away from the door. Why was he here? She needed to get rid of him. She opened the door again, only a few inches, and put her foot in front of the door. “What do you want?”

He looked handsome in his dark jeans and plaid shirt, his hair slightly ruffled as if he had just woken up without a care in the world. His smile was disarming but didn’t match the look of worry in his eyes. “I came to see how you were.”

“I’m fine.” She swallowed her fear and put on her best fake smile. It could usually fool her parents and most of the classmates at school.

“That’s great, but when a girl says fine, it never means fine.”

Drat. It wasn’t going to fool Peter.

“Well, I am, and you should go.” She put as much authority into her voice as possible.

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