kept her head turned away. In the reflecting window, she watched him swagger toward the exit, the beer tucked under his arm. He stepped outside.
Roseann refilled her coffee cup.
“Who was that?” Eden asked. “Do you know him?”
“That’s just Lance,” she sighed. “He’s on the custodial staff at the college. He does some landscaping, too. He’s also a terrible tipper. He had a snoot-full tonight. I think he has a problem. He’s always sneaking beer in here, like he’s fooling everybody. I’d have to be blind not to catch on. Anyway, I’m sorry if he was bothering you. He’s harmless enough.”
Ten minutes later, when Eden stepped out of the Sunnyside Up Café, she realized the rumbling sound she’d heard earlier hadn’t been a truck passing by. It had been thunder. She felt the wind kicking up. Some trash and leaves scattered past her as she headed down the block. She saw a flash of lightning over the lake. For a second the whole sky was illuminated.
It hadn’t started to rain yet, but it looked like it might pour at any minute. She remembered Lance’s “tip” about the shortcut back to St. Agnes Village. Was he on the level?
Eden turned, and at the end of the block, she saw the dry cleaners he’d mentioned. When she reached the corner, she looked to her right at the darkened woods. Tree branches swayed and rustled with the wind. It seemed like the whole forest was alive and moving.
She couldn’t help thinking he was in those woods, waiting for her. But he’d left the restaurant at least twenty minutes ago. Besides, hadn’t the waitress said he was harmless?
From across the street, she could make out a break in the trees. Eden figured it was the foot trail he’d told her about.
Eden told herself that she’d save walking at least six blocks.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Thursday, 11:52 P.M.
Hannah sat up in bed. Through the window, a streetlamp outside provided just enough light to see everything in the small bedroom—including the empty bed across from her.
Eden had been gone six hours. And it was raining out, not the dull, monotonous Seattle type of rain Hannah was used to. This was a downpour with thunder and lightning. She’d purchased a fan earlier in the evening, and it had cooled the bedroom down. She’d also left the window open. The ugly beige curtains billowed with the breeze from the storm. Hannah thought about getting up and checking the windowsill to see if any rain was coming through the screen. But then she figured, if Eden’s bed got wet, she deserved it.
This was so typical of her half-sister. She literally didn’t have sense enough to come in out of the rain.
After Rachel and Alden had left earlier tonight, Hannah had unpacked, showered, and gotten a feel for the bungalow that would be her home for the next nine months. While upstairs, she couldn’t resist checking out Rachel’s bedroom—despite the closed door. It was gorgeous and roomy with a queen-size bed; more sleek, mid-century modern design furniture; an amazing, huge framed print of the Eiffel Tower; and a plush shag rug. Rachel even had a vase with freshly cut flowers on her desk—along with a silver-framed black-and-white photo of a sexy, handsome young man. It looked like an old high school graduation portrait. Hannah put it together from a collage of photos on Rachel’s bulletin board that the stud in the silver frame must have been Rachel’s father. It was weird to see him age—getting balder and paunchier—in so many pictures. Hannah also noticed there was only one photo of Rachel’s mother—in a shot with Mr. Bonner.
The bedroom was about thirty degrees cooler than the rest of the bungalow, thanks to the air conditioner humming in the window.
Hannah had hoped that Rachel and Alden would come back in time for the three of them to have dinner together, but no such luck. By eight o’clock she was starting to feel totally abandoned—and hungry. She texted Eden:
Where R U? Alone here at Bung 20. Want 2 go eat?
No reply, of course. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Eden had probably switched off her phone again.
Hannah called home and talked to everyone. Earlier, she’d been afraid that, upon hearing her parents’ voices, she’d burst into tears. But it was her mother who lost it and started crying. “We miss you so much, honey!” she said, her voice all broken and weepy. Apparently Hannah’s twelve-year-old brother, Gabe, kept going into her empty bedroom and coming out with this melancholy look on his face that absolutely broke her mom’s heart. Her mother made it sound more like Hannah was dead than just away at school.
Everyone expected to talk to Eden, too, of course. Hannah told them that she’d gone off by herself two hours before and was incommunicado.
“Why am I not surprised?” her mother sighed. “Well, when she re-appears, have her call us. Okay?”
After hanging up with her folks, Hannah stuck a Post-it note on the bedroom door:
E—
Gone to the student union for dinner. Call home when you get this.
8:15
The student union was in a big, modern glass-and-steel building that included a coffee shop, Campus Grounds, and a 7-Eleven type of market, the Grub Hub. Hannah had a feeling both spots would be her salvation in the months ahead. The union was like one huge bar—with two pool tables, dart boards, pinball and video game machines, and a couple of strategically located TVs. It was also air-conditioned, thank God. On the wall behind the counter-bar was a chalkboard menu of Italian sodas, juice drinks, and coffee specialties. Exposed pipes, beams, and ducts ran along the ceiling, and concrete support posts were staggered every twenty feet or so. There were about twenty-five people—mostly girls—eating and drinking at the tables. It didn’t seem like much of a crowd for such a large space. Hannah guessed most of them were freshmen, like her. She’d hoped against hope that Rachel and Alden might be among the diners, but she didn’t see them anywhere. Some students sat in couples or groups, making Hannah wonder how these people knew each other when they’d all just arrived today. Were they all from the same high school?
Or maybe they just had roommates who hadn’t deserted them.
Several students ate alone, staring at their smartphones so that they wouldn’t look utterly pathetic. Hannah figured that was what she’d have to do.
She sat down at a table close to the entrance so that, if Eden showed up, she’d find her easily. The laminated handwritten menu had eight food selections. Hannah decided on the Cobb salad, and then glanced around for a waitperson. Or did they even have servers? Maybe she was supposed to go up to the counter and order her stupid dinner.
She hated this.
She should have sat near someone else that was alone—and then she could have asked what the hell she was supposed to do to get some dinner in this dump. She might have struck up a friendship, too, if only a temporary one.
She noticed a couple of girls, a chubby blonde and a pretty brunette, about three tables over. They both wore Our Lady of the Cove T-shirts, which Hannah thought was kind of pathetic for any freshman to do on her first day here. But they looked friendly enough, and they smiled in her direction. So Hannah smiled back. Then the brunette got to her feet, waved, and signaled like she wanted her to come
