She answered, even as she was chewing something. Evidently he’d interrupted her dinner. “Hey, Nolan.”
“Sanjana,” he greeted. “Is my sister here?”
Sanjana seemed confused “Um. No. She hasn’t been here today.” Suddenly, she got a cagey look. It reminded him of the way Lia had looked in the parking lot the other day. “There was a study group at IHOP,” she quickly said. “She might have gone to that.”
“A study group?”
“Yeah.”
She was covering for Emmaline. He suddenly felt tired. Tired of being kept in the dark. Tired of feeling like he didn’t even know his sister anymore—and that really worried him. He’d made a promise to his father, and she was making it very difficult to keep. “What’s going on, Sanjana? Where is she?”
“Uhhh—”
“She’s with her, isn’t she?” He nodded. “Hayden Vargas.”
Hayden. His sister’s new friend.
She gave a single shake of her head. “N-no.”
“She’s at IHOP? You’re still sticking with that story?”
Sanjana exhaled, her shoulders slumping. “I actually don’t know where she is.”
He gave a snort of disbelief. “Right.”
With a quick goodbye, he turned and jogged back to where he’d parked his truck along the street.
He started the engine and headed for Pleasant Ranch.
His gut told him Emmaline was there.
Emmaline and Hayden both refused to explain their sudden association. It didn’t seem accurate to call it a friendship, because he was pretty sure they just met. He doubted they ever had a conversation before that night at the party.
There was something weird happening and he was going to find out what.
He knew Hayden lived near Beau. He’d spotted her walking on the sidewalk before. Freshman year. Before any of them could drive themselves anywhere. He’d noticed her as far back as then, though he tried not to think too deeply about that fact now.
He punched in Beau’s number.
Beau answered on the second ring.
“Hey, man,” Nolan said. “Where does Hayden Vargas live?”
A beat of silence stretched between them, and then Beau’s voice came out slowly, as though he were still processing the question. “Two streets over from me. Tangled Wood. Why?”
“Going to get my sister.”
“Emmaline’s at Hayden’s house?”
“I think so.”
Another pause followed and he knew Beau was thinking that over and probably coming up with more questions, but Nolan didn’t feel like giving any answers. “Thanks. Gotta go.” He hung up before Beau could ask anything else.
Nolan identified her house easily enough. He recognized Hayden’s car in the driveway. He parked in the street and sat there a moment. He stared up and down the road before resting his gaze back on that lone car. His sister had taken his mom’s car, and he didn’t see it anywhere.
It was enough for him to turn around and go. No sense knocking on the door.
His fingers tapped a few times over the steering wheel until he stopped the anxious motion. With a mutter, he climbed down from the truck and started for the front door.
A pair of dogs flung themselves against a neighbor’s chainlink fence. The fence looked ready to collapse from the force. Nolan hoped that wouldn’t happen now. He could run fast, but he wasn’t sure if he could outrun them.
Hayden’s house wasn’t that different in size or style from Beau’s, except this place was a shithole. He felt a twinge of guilt for the mean thought, but it was the truth. A hurricane could take it down.
There was no grass. Just a lawn full of dead weeds. The wind blew an empty egg carton across the front yard, pinning it to the chainlink fence.
Beau did a good job maintaining his yard and worked to take care of their home.
Before stepping up on the concrete porch, he noticed the drooping gutters, overstuffed with leaves and debris. The aluminum bowed, ready to break under their burden.
He couldn’t find a doorbell, so he knocked. Two strong raps.
A muffled cry came from within and then the door yanked open.
It was Hayden. Only not a Hayden he had ever observed before.
She was in a loose T-shirt and shorts—shorts that showed a hell of a lot of gold-skinned thighs. No makeup. Dark hair piled into a knot on her head.
She blinked at the sight of him. “You must be lost.”
“I was looking for my sister.”
The corner of her mouth kicked up. “Of course you are, Sherlock.”
When she didn’t look ready to comment further, merely continued to look bored, staring at him as though he were some unwanted solicitor on her doorstep, he added, “Is she here?”
He had already deduced she wasn’t here, but he had to ask. Even if he looked pathetic standing in front of her door.
She leaned against the threshold. “No. No, she’s not here.”
He cleared his throat. “Was she here earlier?”
“No.” That smile of hers made him feel funny inside. Like an idiot and . . . other things.
“Lost her, huh, big brother? Thought you better come here and rescue her from me.”
Heat burned his face at how close to the truth she was. “No—”
“C’mon.” She snorted. “That’s it exactly. Why else would you risk driving into this part of town?”
“My best friend lives two streets over,” he defended.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “But I bet you usually go to your house to hang out, not his.”
He opened his mouth but couldn’t argue that.
He wanted to protest that Beau always preferred it that way. Beau came over. He liked being around Nolan’s family. It was Beau’s choice. Beau’s mother could hardly tolerate having Beau around. She definitely didn’t want Nolan creeping into her space.
And while all that was true, he didn’t know if Hayden wasn’t just a little bit right. Did he avoid the neighborhood?
It was an ugly thought to consider.
Suddenly a loud sound carried from the living room and she darted back inside, leaving the door open, leaving him standing there on the small slab of porch, the wind buffeting his legs.
“Oh! I missed it . . .”
He took a step closer, peering inside.
She snatched up the remote control and punched a button, holding it up and aiming it at the screen. “Ah, there we go.”
Her gaze met his. “Train to Busan,” she explained, as though that would mean something to him.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a movie.”
He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of it.”
She gave him a look that conveyed a decided lack of surprise.
“What kind of movie is it?” he asked for some reason, interested.
She sank down on her couch, tucking her legs under her, and reached for a bag of popcorn resting on the scarred wood surface of a coffee table.
“Horror . . . and it’s brilliant. Truly.”
“Horror? You don’t seem like—”
“What? The kind of person to watch horror films?” She angled her head sharply, popcorn lifted halfway to her lips. “Is that because I’m a girl or because I’m me?”