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Raveling You(27)

By:Jessica Sorensen




“Ayden,” I call out, and he turns toward me. “We’ll find her, okay? You don’t need to do this alone.”



He mashes his lips together, nods once, and then heads back for Rebel Tonic.



I run like hell for my house before Ayden can back out on our pinkie promise.



By the time I return to the park with a ball of money in my pocket, I’m sweaty and breathless. Relief washes through me when I spot Ayden and Rebel Tonic hanging out on the merry-go-round. He hasn’t left, which means Ayden didn’t break his promise.



I approach them, reaching into my pocket for the money.



Ayden quickly jumps to his feet and blocks me from Rebel Tonic’s view as I hand Ayden the cash.



“I’m going to pay you back every penny,” he promises as he stares at the bills in his hand.



I wave him off. “Let’s just get this guy paid and go home.” He turns toward Rebel Tonic, but I capture his sleeve. “Are you sure you can trust him?”



He lifts his shoulders and shrugs. “I don’t know, but it’s the only idea I have.”



I free his sleeve and Ayden gives Rebel Tonic my wad of cash along with a crumpled stack of his own. Rebel Tonic counts it out, and then a greedy grin forms on his acne-covered face.



“Fan-freaking-tastic,” he says, balling up the bills and stuffing them into his jacket. “Give me like a week, and I should have the information for you.”



“How are you going to contact me?” Ayden asks as Rebel Tonic backs toward the gate.



“By email,” he tells him, pushing his glass up the brim of his nose. “And don’t try texting me on that phone number I gave you the other day. My mom took my phone away.”



“His mom? How old is he?” I frown, doubtful that this ordeal is going to end well with Rebel Tonic. The only thing that stops me from chasing his skinny butt down and snatching the money back is the glimmer of hope in Ayden’s eyes.



“I’m not sure,” Ayden mutters with his eyes still fixed on Rebel Tonic. “Maybe like fifteen?”



“As old as Kale?” Yeah, I highly doubt this is going to end well.



Ayden finally looks at me when Rebel Tonic disappears out the park gates. The sky has shifted to stardust, darkness blankets the land, and the streetlights have clicked on, highlighting the way home.



“So, what were you going to tell me about Lila and Ethan?” he asks.



I scuff my boot across the grass. “The night we heard the news about your brother, I overheard them talking about how they knew your brother getting … killed was a possibility, that the people were out there, and they could come for you guys or something like that.”



He rubs his hand across his forehead. “I knew that, too. That it was a possibility.”



“Oh,” I say at the same time he adds, “But…”



“But what?” I press with interest.



“But I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder if they know more about my sister, brother, and me than even I know.”



Silence encases us.



“What are you going to do?” I finally ask, zipping my jacket up all the way to my chin.



“I don’t know.” He draws the zipper up his own jacket then glances up at the moon. “We should get going before Lila and Ethan get home and notice I’m gone.”



“Were you supposed to leave the house?” I ask as we hike across the grass.



“Not after what happened today. At the class, I mean. Plus, they’re worried about that guy we saw watching my house.”



“Yeah, I’m sorry I told my mom about that. I just felt that, with everything going on, they should know.”



“It’s okay. I’m glad you did. I should have told them myself.”



I twist a strand of my hair around my finger. “Ayden, do you think what happened today … Was that a panic attack?”



He’s quiet before he answers. “I was remembering stuff.”



My head whips in his direction. “What?”



He exhales. “It happens sometimes … when I’m stressed out … or when things happen that remind me of my past.”



We arrive at the iron gate and veer down the sidewalk, past the homes sparkling with Christmas lights, wreaths, inflatable globes, and even some with artificial snow.



“Was it the stress of today?” I scoot over as one of our neighbors strolls by, giving us a friendly wave.



“Yeah, kind of,” Ayden replies, waving back.



“Kind of? Was it the letter from your sister?”



“Yes and no.” When I stare at him, silently pressing for more, his shoulders slump. “I don’t want to lie to you anymore.”