The Disappearance Of Sloane Sullivan

And I hadn’t known Ms. Jenkins nearly as well as I knew Jason.

A crease appeared in between his eyebrows. He opened his mouth slightly then closed it, all while searching my face.

The contacts! I prayed the brown would be enough to throw him off. But when his gaze dropped to the left side of my neck, I knew I was in trouble. Mark’s voice sounded in my head, as clear as if he was standing right next to me: Lesson number six: take control of the situation.

I shifted my hair to cover the faint pink scar on the side of my neck—the only proof I’d once had a large dark brown mole there—and stood. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” I grabbed my schedule with one hand and took hold of Jason’s outstretched hand with the other, helping him up. “I’m Sloane, but you already know that.” I nodded at my schedule.

The crease in between his eyebrows deepened. “Jason,” he replied, still holding my hand.

I wanted to laugh at the deepness of his voice as I took in the rest of him. What happened to the scrawny twelve-year-old I left behind? Sure, his eyes were the same. And his black hair was still disheveled, only now it was tousled in a bed-head kind of way that could only be described as sexy. Which pretty much described the rest of him too. He’d filled out and grown super tall and it made my stomach flip as all the ways I’d changed from my twelve-year-old self ran through my head.

A husky voice interrupted the silence hanging between us. “Well, hel-lo.”

I yanked my hand out of Jason’s. A tall, slender guy with deep red hair was leaning against the lockers right next to me, holding a football. He inclined his head toward me and smiled. “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

I glanced from the boy to Jason and back again. “Um...”

A petite girl with olive skin materialized in between the boys. “Ignore him,” she told me, shaking her head at Mr. Love-at-First-Sight. “He tries his lines out on every female he sees.” She had shoulder-length, wavy dark brown hair with long bangs that swept across her forehead, partially covering one of her brown eyes. She turned to Jason and whacked him on the chest. “Babe! You practically mowed this poor girl down. How many times have I told you two playing football in the halls was going to end in bodily injury?”

Babe?

The girl turned back to me. “I’m Livie.” She paused, peeking at the guys on either side of her, then sighed. “And if these two Neanderthals haven’t properly introduced themselves yet, this is Sawyer—” she pointed to the pale redhead “—and this is my boyfriend, Jason.” She wrapped her hands around Jason’s arm.

The movement seemed to snap Jason out of his daze. “Oh, sorry, guys. This is Sloane.” He gestured toward me.

I gave them the look of self-deprecation I’d perfected from constantly being the new girl. “You know, I expected to embarrass myself on my first day but I had no idea it was going to happen so quickly.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Livie insisted. “It’s these two who should be embarrassed.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of blue against a red background. Something twisted in my chest as I remembered the flash I thought I’d seen the night before outside the school. I turned my head, half expecting to see another brick wall.

Sawyer was on one knee in front of the row of red lockers, his blue shirt still fluttering from his sudden movement. I shook my head. Of course there isn’t a brick wall.

Sawyer gazed up at me, batting his eyelashes. “I, dear Sloane, offer my humblest of apologizes for causing you embarrassment by using my considerable strength to throw this football farther than Jason expected, making him run to catch it and crash into you. I promise to find a way to make up for my superhero-like muscles.”

I glanced around. Most of the crowd that had stopped to watch the aftermath of my collision with Jason had moved on, but several girls were still hovering, giggling at Sawyer’s spectacle. I tugged on his arm. “You can start by getting up,” I hissed.

Livie helped pull Sawyer to his feet. “She’s trying not to draw more attention to herself, genius.”

Sawyer grinned at me, totally not sorry for making a scene, then leaned toward Jason. “Bet you can’t top that apology.”

Jason didn’t respond. He was still studying me, head tilted to one side.

My eyes locked on Jason’s and my pulse raced, pounding a rhythm in my head that sounded suspiciously like it’s not working. I knew what I had to do.

I peered around Jason at the door to the girls’ bathroom, barely visible down the hall. Thanks to my recon mission the night before (and lesson number two: notice every possible exit), I knew that bathroom had a window large enough to climb out of. I’d simply politely extract myself from the conversation, go into the bathroom and vanish without a trace. I’d be a new person in a new state by morning.

It wasn’t a choice, it was a rule. And for good reason. Even though I couldn’t remember what I saw the day I entered WITSEC—a little online research at a public library one day when no one else was around told me I’d probably repressed the memories—I’d always known being discovered wouldn’t be a good thing. The creepy flashes I got whenever it felt like someone was watching me. The way my dad and Mark had always refused to discuss what happened in front of me, whispering about my dad’s testimony in hushed tones. How Mark once told me he never wanted me to remember. Disappearing was the safest thing to do.

I inched away from Jason, eyes on the bathroom, preparing to make my escape.

“Wait!” Livie blurted, pulling my attention back to the group. She dug in her bag, pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper, and glanced at it before grinning at me. “You’re Sloane Sullivan.”

What is it with everyone here knowing my name?

Livie bounced a little on her toes. “I’m your First Day Buddy.”

“My what?”

“You know, someone who shows you around on your first day, makes sure you don’t eat the fish sandwich in the cafeteria, answers any questions that pop up. You have physics first period, right?”

No. No, no, no. I nod.

“Mrs. Zalinsky came into class yesterday and asked for a volunteer—” Livie looked pointedly at Sawyer “—which some people rolled their eyes at.”

“If I had known it was going to be a cute girl, I would’ve volunteered first,” he grumbled. “Superheroes make great First Day Buddies.”

Livie turned to me and lowered her voice. “Then it’s lucky you got me.”

I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Mrs. Zalinsky. “You don’t really have to do anything. I have a map. I’ll be fine. And I’ll totally tell everyone you did a great job.”

“You might not need me, but I need you,” Livie insisted. “Mr. Pruitt offered extra credit for volunteering, and I need all the help I can get in that class. And he always knows when someone’s cheating, right, Jason?”

Jason nodded, his eyes slow to leave me and find Livie.

“Hey,” Livie said, focusing on him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Jason said with a slight chuckle. “I was momentarily horrified imagining Sawyer in a superhero costume.”

“Shut up,” Sawyer muttered, his cheeks turning pink.

Jason smirked and my breath caught in my throat.

The girl I’d been before WITSEC had faded from my memory quickly, buried beneath new girl after new girl. But Jason’s smirk—that same irritatingly cute little smile he’d worn when we were kids—was like magic, breaking through the layers and shaking off the dirt on a hundred different memories at once. On all the times I’d been the one to sneak out and come up with ridiculous adventures for us, and he’d try to shoot them down even though he was just as excited as I was. A tiny piece of the girl I used to be, the girl who made up her own rules, sparked to life somewhere deep inside me and the craziest question popped into my head: Could I stay?

Livie grabbed my hand and pulled me closer, as if protecting me from Sawyer. “Don’t worry,” she fake whispered. “There are plenty of cute guys in this school to help erase the mental image of Sawyer in superhero spandex.”

I gave a little shrug. “I don’t know. Superhero Sawyer has a nice ring to it.”

Sawyer grinned and Jason rolled his eyes and my mind kicked into overdrive.

Everything was riding on making it through this placement without a hitch. The alternative, not lasting only nine weeks in such a large school, hadn’t seemed possible before today. I’d taken the SAT and filled out college applications as Sloane Sullivan months ago, before I even became Sloane Sullivan. I’d used a fake transcript painstakingly created from classes I’d actually taken, with grades I’d actually received, because I was tired of working hard for good grades that became pointless every time I became someone new. I was determined to get into college on my merit, like a normal person would. Well, as normally as I possibly could anyway.

And if we left North Carolina now, all my planning would be for nothing. Because Sloane Sullivan wouldn’t exist anymore. I’d have to reapply as the girl I became next, and all the application deadlines had passed. Which meant I’d have to wait another year to apply to college. Another year to get out of WITSEC. Another year to start my life.

I couldn’t wait another year.

Besides, disappearing had been the safest thing to do when there was no end in sight. When the threat of someone coming after me was more real. Now things were different. Thanks to the confession, the threat was basically nonexistent. And I was just a few weeks shy of getting out anyway. All I had to do was turn eighteen, graduate and have college lined up and ready to go. Those were Mark’s conditions, and I was so close. Too close to let it all slip away by following the rules this time.

Livie groaned and released my hand to shove Sawyer gently into the bank of lockers. “There is no such thing as a ‘superhuman ability to attract hotties.’”

Jason glanced at me, one eyebrow raised and eyes sparkling. Even though I knew it was only his amusement at Sawyer’s made-up superpower, it looked almost like a challenge. And just like that, my mind was made up. I was going to stay. I was going to convince Jason I wasn’t the girl who used to live next door. I was going to get out of WITSEC on time.

No matter what.

Three

I surveyed the cafeteria. Hundreds of voices floated through the air, wrapping around me like a cocoon. This was normally the part of my first day where I’d hang back and observe so I could find the perfect group to join: the one not too big and not too small; not overly popular, but not outsiders; not so involved in school activities as to draw attention to themselves, yet not so anti-school they stood out. Then I’d emerge from my cocoon as the girl I was going to be. The type of girl that, no matter who she was, would steer clear of anyone who looked at her with even the tiniest hint of familiarity. But this time was different.

This time I had a First Day Buddy who swore eating lunch together was a nonnegotiable part of the First Day Buddy contract. Which meant this time I’d be sitting with the only person in almost six years who knew the real me.

I eyed the table of artsy-looking kids across the room and sighed. They were laughing and teasing each other, saying hello to people walking by yet ignoring the attempts of the table of guys beside them to engage in some sort of food fight. I’d been artsy before, I could do it again. And sitting with them—acting like I not only didn’t know Jason, but had no desire to get to know him—was the safest way to convince him I wasn’t the girl he possibly remembered, the girl he’d grown up with. Instead, I was about to have lunch with him.

I took a deep breath. It was just one lunch, just one first day to get through, then I could get back to my plan of lying low. You can do this. But first, I needed something to eat.

I grabbed a tray and followed the familiar scent of cafeteria food to the open area at the back of the room where lunch ladies with hairnets were serving the day’s options. The pizza looked surprisingly good, but it had a line at least fifty people deep. My stomach rumbled, protesting the wait. I went to the other end of the counter and thanked the lunch lady for a plate of what appeared to be roasted chicken, salad and a glop of orange mush. I wrinkled my nose.

Someone chuckled. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Startled, I turned to find the tall a cappella guy standing next to me. I stared for a second, mesmerized by his piercing green eyes. Then I quickly peered back at the orange goop. “What is it?”

“Mashed sweet potatoes.”

I wrinkled my nose again.

He laughed, flashing two dimples. “I’m glad I came over. Now I have something else to call you.”

I tilted my head in confusion.

“I’ve been referring to you as New Girl in my head all morning,” he clarified. “But now I can add Hater of Sweet Potatoes to the list.”

“Ah.” I took a step closer to him to avoid the line forming for the chicken, glancing around at the same time. No one seemed to be paying any attention to us. “And what should I call you?” I pointed at his empty hands. “Disrespecter of Lunch Trays?”

He grinned. “I already bought my lunch. I came over just to talk to you.”

A wave of apprehension flowed through me. This better not be some kind of prank on the new girl.

“I saw your collision this morning and just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said with a shrug. “I thought maybe you could use a friend who isn’t trying to body slam you.”

Okay, not what I was expecting at all. “You saw that, huh?”

“You know, maybe I should call you Receiver of a Completely Uncalled-For Hallway Football Smackdown. Believe it or not, that’s not the way most of us welcome a new student.”

A tiny smile formed on my lips. “Maybe I should be Creator of the Full-Contact First-Day Meet and Greet. Guaranteed to get you up close and personal with your new classmates.”

He bit back his own smile. “Actually, I was hoping you’d be Needer of a Place to Sit?” He nodded at a table over his shoulder that was surprisingly empty.

My reply was interrupted by a husky voice shouting, “There you are!” over the cafeteria chatter. I turned and saw Sawyer rushing over.

Sawyer placed his hands on my shoulders. “Livie was afraid you got lost. Come on, you can pay over here and then I’ll show you to our table.” He nodded at the a cappella guy and muttered, “Hey, man,” before steering me away.

I peeked back over my shoulder.

“Watch out for flying sports equipment!” the guy called after me.

I grinned until I spotted a girl with a short black pixie haircut glaring at me from a nearby table full of girls now watching me. I knew what that glare meant: Mr. Welcoming Committee probably once belonged at that table and according to its current occupants, he was off-limits. The smile disappeared from my face.

“What do you want to drink?” Sawyer asked, drawing my attention back to him. “Water, juice, milk?”

“Water.” I pressed my lips together, annoyed at myself for forgetting I was in ground zero of high school social cliques. I already had Jason to deal with. I didn’t need any other complications.

Sawyer placed a bottle of water on my tray and took the tray out of my hands. “Let me pay for this.”

“What? Sawyer, no.” I tried unsuccessfully to pry the tray away from him.

He pulled a card out of his pocket and held it against a scanner by the cashier. “Already done.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” I protested as I followed him across the cafeteria.

“I was the one who convinced Jason to play football this morning. This is my way of apologizing.” He shrugged, but his expression showed he considered it something more than an apology.

I hoped he wasn’t considering it a date.

Sawyer led me to the end of a table where Jason and Livie were already sitting next to each other. Livie slipped her hand out of Jason’s and waved when she saw us.

“So.” Sawyer settled into the seat next to me, across from Jason and Livie, and slid my tray over. “Are you from Tennessee?”

My heart skipped a beat. I had lived in Tennessee. Granted, it had only been for two months, but it hadn’t even been a year since we’d left. Please don’t tell me I have to worry about someone in addition to Jason recognizing me.

“Because you’re the only ten I see,” Sawyer continued without giving me the chance to reply.

I let out a shaky laugh. I could’ve hugged the person who created such a corny joke right then.

Livie groaned. “At least let her eat before you pile on the pickup lines. They’re hard to take on an empty stomach.”

Sawyer reached over and snatched a piece of pepperoni off Livie’s pizza. “You’re just jealous I found someone new to pick up. Plus, I think Sloane likes them.”

“I think you’re delusional,” Livie fired back. “And I’m actually thrilled you’ve found someone else to practice on.”

Jason leaned across the table toward me, a half smile playing on his lips. “They argue like this all the time. You’ll get used to it.”

It was a look I remembered now too, like the smirk. The one that always made it seem like he was letting me in on a secret.

Jason popped a tomato from his salad into his mouth. “So where are you really from?”

I hesitated, instinct warning me to tell him as little as possible. But this was why Mark created fictional backstories every time we moved.

“Pierre, South Dakota,” I lied.

“Wow,” Livie said. “What’s it like there?”

I bit back a grin. “Cold.” I’d never actually been to South Dakota, but I had lived in four of the six states that bordered it and that much I knew well. I peeked at Jason. “I lived there my whole life though, so I got used to it.”

“You probably didn’t get to see much water,” Sawyer guessed.

I furrowed my eyebrows. “It’s on the Missouri River. And there’s a large lake nearby.” Thank you, internet research.

Sawyer’s light brown eyes brightened. “But have you seen the ocean yet? The beach is so close. Maybe I can show you.”

I glanced down at my plate. I grew up in the Atlantic Ocean, like all the other kids who lived in my beach town on the Jersey Shore. But I hadn’t seen it since I left; I hadn’t even been back to the East Coast since I left. And I wasn’t ready to see it again. “Yeah, maybe.”

“Are you a senior?” Livie asked.

I nodded.

She frowned. “It must’ve been really hard to move this close to graduation. I moved here at the beginning of the school year and it sucked starting my senior year someplace new, even with the First Day Buddy I got.”

“It’s not that bad. My dad got a new job and he had to start right away.”

“But what about your mom?” Livie continued. “I mean, couldn’t you two have stayed in South Dakota for a few more weeks until you graduated and then met your dad out here?”

“I don’t have a mom,” I said.

Sawyer and Livie wore matching shocked expressions but Jason’s eyes were a bit narrowed, more curious than surprised. I pretended not to notice.

“I mean, I have one. I just don’t know where she is.” I stabbed a piece of chicken with my fork. “My parents were only sixteen when they had me. My mom stuck around until I was three but she wanted freedom and parties, not a toddler. So she took off and it’s been just my dad and me ever since.” It was a variation of the story we used every time Mark pretended to be my father.

Livie sat straighter. “Your dad’s been taking care of you by himself since he was nineteen? That’s so sweet.” She fiddled with the edge of Jason’s shirt around his bicep. “We should set him up with your mom.”

I put my fork down. “What?”

“Jason’s parents are divorced and his mom’s the best. She totally needs a sweetheart to sweep her off her feet.”

Disbelief coursed through me. I never would’ve thought it was possible for Jason’s parents to be anything other than fairy-tale happily-ever-after in love. What happened?

Jason rubbed the back of his neck. “You know she doesn’t like blind dates.”

“So we’ll have a welcome party for Sloane and her dad,” Livie said. She wrapped her hands around Jason’s arm and scooted closer to him. “I can help your mom cook and she can get to know Sloane’s dad before they go out. Then it won’t be a blind date.”

Even if Mark would’ve gone for that, Jason looked uncomfortable with the idea. And there was no way I was putting the two of them in the same room together. “My dad’s really busy with his new job. It might be a while before he has any free time.”

Livie’s shoulders fell. “Oh.”

Jason gave me a grateful smile. “I think you came at the perfect time. All the senior stuff is about to start.”

“That’s right,” Sawyer agreed. He bumped my shoulder with his own. “Tomorrow’s the senior scavenger hunt. Every team has to get pictures of different things around school and the team that completes their list the fastest gets to pick the music that plays when we march out of graduation.”

I inched my chair away from his. “Really? You can pick any song?”

Jason nodded. “As long as it doesn’t have curse words, anything goes.” He turned to Sawyer. “Remember last year was that continuous loop of the theme song to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood?”

“If we win we should pick ‘Fight for Your Right’ by the Beastie Boys,” Sawyer declared.

Jason pointed his fork at Sawyer. “Can’t go wrong with a classic.”

“Come on!” Livie whined. “Don’t Sloane and I get a say?”

I choked on a bite of chicken. “You want me on your team?” I’d already been plotting ways to avoid the whole thing.

“It’s part of your First Day Buddy experience. Mrs. Zalinsky was adamant about me including you on my team.”

Damn Mrs. Zalinsky and her thoughtfulness. “You really don’t have to—”

“Nope,” Sawyer interrupted. “There’s no getting out of it. You have to be on our team.” He patted my arm like he was comforting a confused senior citizen. “You’re part of the club.”

I opened my mouth then closed it, trying to figure out where he was going with this. “What club?”

Sawyer widened his ever-present grin. “You are Sloane Sullivan, right?”

My heart stuttered, but I plastered on a teasing smile. “Who else would I be?”

Jason’s eyes lit up as he held my gaze. “Two first names,” he explained.

I tore my eyes away from Jason to study Sawyer and Livie. “Wait. Do all of you have two first names?”

Livie pointed as she identified each of them. “Jason Thomas, Sawyer James, and Liv Dawson.”

Leave it to Jason to find a whole club. “Okay, but does Sullivan really count as a first name?”

Jason nodded. “It was my grandpa’s first name, remember?”

Memories I hadn’t thought of in years danced in my head: Jason’s grandpa dressed like Santa every Christmas, the way he’d pull quarters from behind my ear, going to his funeral when we were nine. My pulse raced. Is he asking if I remember all that?

“I said that when I saw your schedule this morning,” Jason continued.

I blew out a silent breath.

“There’s that cute actor from the FBI show with the tattoos. His first name is Sullivan,” Livie added, unaware of my momentary panic. “Oh, and the singer for some punk band I’ve never heard of before. Some girls were talking about him in class the other day.”

“Plus,” Jason said, “your first and last name start with the same sound. That cancels out the fact you think it doesn’t count.”

When Jason smiled, I couldn’t help but smile back. An obsession with both Superman and Spider-Man when we were little made him believe that anyone with first and last names that started with the same sound could really be a superhero in disguise.