The Stitchers by Lorien Lawrence

The Stitchers by Lorien Lawrence

Author:Lorien Lawrence
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Abrams
Published: 2020-08-18T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 10

“We have to talk.”

It’s hours after the track meet, and Mike is standing in my doorway. His hands are stuffed deep into his pockets, and there is no sign of a smirk or a smile. I cross my arms over my chest.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“Can I come in?”

I hold open the door wide enough for him to slip through. Billy greets him on the inside.

“Sup, boy?” Mike drops to his knees to ruffle Billy’s fur as I close the door.

I watch him wrestle with my dog in my living room, feeling shyer than I’m used to feeling when Mike and I are together.

“You want something to drink?” I ask.

Mike stands up. “I’ll take milk.”

“Milk?”

“Yeah, what of it? Vitamin D, right?”

“If you say so.” I lead him to the kitchen, where I pour us both a glass before we take our seats across from each other at the little round table.

Mike doesn’t waste any time. “So the Oldies at the track meet,” he starts, as if we are already in mid-conversation.

“What about them?”

“That was another warning, except I can’t figure out why.”

“Because they know we’re onto them.”

Mike purses his lips. “But we’re not onto them,” he argues. “At least not fully. Face it, Parker, we still don’t know who, or what, we’re dealing with. We don’t even know if they’re really dangerous or not.”

“If you don’t think they’re dangerous, why are you so scared of them?” I challenge.

“I’m not scared,” Mike insists, puffing his chest out a little before taking a long drink of milk. “I’m just cautious.”

“No, something is off about these people and you know it.” I hand him a napkin. “You’ve got a milk mustache.”

“I like it. Makes me look manly.” But he wipes it off just the same.

“So what do you want to do?” I ask.

“I think we need to make some charts.”

“OK, Science Boy . . .”

“Seriously. We have to start thinking like scientists, and to do that we need to put all of our evidence into one place. You got your laptop?”

I nod and stand up. “It’s in my room.”

Mike stands up to follow me.

I quickly raise my hand. “Nope. I’ll bring it down.” I take off upstairs before Mike can argue; the thought of him being in my bedroom is just too weird, and goodness knows I’ve got enough weirdness in my life these days.

When I return to the kitchen, we sit side by side in front of my computer and open a Word document that we title Evidence. Mike immediately opens his personal email and downloads a file onto my computer. Suddenly, candid pictures of the Oldies appear across the screen.

“Where did you get these?” I breathe.

He flashes a cheeky smile. “I took these after the track meet, on my way to the field house. They were so focused on you, they didn’t even notice.”

“Genius.”

“I know.”

I watch as Mike’s fingers bounce across the keys, typing furiously without even having to look down. He pastes in each of the Oldies’ photographs, along with some empty bullet points beneath each one.



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