The Creeping by Sirowy Alexandra

Author:Sirowy, Alexandra [Sirowy, Alexandra]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

Sam’s wagon roars into the driveway, and I book it a little too quickly to climb into the passenger seat.

“Good morning,” he says with gusto. He smells vaguely like mint and toast. His cheeks glow pink, and the fringes of his eyelashes arch as he smiles. “Sorry it took me so long. Mom wouldn’t let me leave before I ate breakfast with her.”

“No worries.” I settle back into the familiar seat and suppress a sigh. “Could we stop by Zoey’s on the way? She’s going to come with,” I say.

Sam’s wide eyes flit back and forth between me and the road. “Zoey agreed to be in the same room as me?” he asks dubiously.

I act preoccupied with my reflection in the mirror. “Mm-hmm.” I try for nonchalance.

“Huh. I guess there’s a first time for everything,” he says in a pluckily optimistic way that makes me feel guilty for lying. “Daniel never called me back last night. I’ll try him again after the library. He’s probably just lying low with his dad.” I shrug. Daniel is the least of my worries. First I have to survive Zoey; then I have to figure out a way to tell Sam and Zoey what I remembered.

Zoey lives on the opposite side of downtown from me, and even though fifteen blocks are all that separate our two houses, it’s like traveling from one world to the next. The homes get dollhouse small, and on every other street there’s a cluster of trailers. Pretty ones with plastic pink flamingos and fake green hedges, but still . . . houses on wheels. If the train tracks actually ran through town, this would be the wrong side of them. Zoey will antagonize just about everyone for just about everything, except not having a lot of money. Once I caught her in the locker room when she thought she was alone, telling her reflection that money can’t buy popularity. I think it probably can in most places, but not at our school, not under Zoey’s watch.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to Sam when he throws the car into park in Zoey’s gravel driveway.

It isn’t raining, but the sky is still brimming with clouds. Not the wispy kind, but the ones that look like sponges soaked with water, begging to be squeezed. I ring the doorbell rather than use my key. Zoey’s lost five spare keys to my house; I’ve hung on to hers since I was ten. Shuffling on the other side of the door, and then the lock clicks open.

“Hey,” Caleb says as he flings it open. He drags Zoey’s yellow Lab Nanny back so that I can squeeze through and shouts, “Zoey! Stella’s here.” Nanny lunges forward, snorting furiously and sniffing my shoes like she means to inhale them. I scratch Nanny behind her ears, where the fur fades from gold to white. She’s fourteen and the reason we spent so much time at Jeanie’s as kids. Jeanie was allergic to dogs, and both my parents worked.

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