look like you're getting hauled off to jail.”
I laugh too. “Actually, it used to be kind of thrilling when Dad would let me ride with him in the patrol car.”
“But not so much now that you're older.”
“Not so much.”
So I tell her what time to pick me up and where, and then I hang up and hand the phone back to Olivia.
“That seemed to go okay,” she says as she turns it off and puts it back in her bag.
“Yeah. Ebony actually sounded really nice.”
“Any reason she shouldn't sound nice?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Not really.” We're just going into the building now, and this is a conversation that I'm not ready to start, or maybe even to have.
I don't begin to feel really nervous until fourth period. Fortunately, it's PE, and Mrs. Harper has us running our legs off on the basketball court. I think it's punishment for not going out for the girls' basketball team, which shecoaches and which doesn't sound like it'll have much
Ti
potential this year. But as a result of the many drills she puts us through, I don't have too much time to obsess
v over
what I'm going to say to Ebony.
© Of course, as we're getting dressed afterward, Olivia feels the need to remind me of my lunch date. “Do you have it sort of worked out?” she asks in a slightly hushedtone since Emma and Brittany are nearby. “I mean, do you have an idea about what you're going to tell her?”
I toss my sweaty PE clothes into my locker, slam it, then start shoving my feet into my boots. “Not really. I'm praying that God will lead me.”
She nods. “I'll be praying too.”
I'm dressed now, and it's time to head out to meet Ebony. I pull on my jacket and run my fingers through my slightly messy hair. “Here I go.”
Olivia holds up crossed fingers. “See ya.”
“Where's Samantha taking off to in such a big rush?” Emma asks as I head for the door.
“She's got a date,” Olivia tells them in a mysterious voice.
“Who with?” asks Brittany.
“I'll bet she's meeting Conrad Stiles,” says Emma. “I've heard he thinks she's hot.”
I consider this comment as I hurry out of the locker room and through the breezeway that leads to the front of the school. Conrad's a nice enough guy, and from what I've heard a strong Christian too, but I had no idea he was into me—if he really is. Emma was probably just pulling my leg, I tell myself as I go past security and exit the main entrance.
Fortunately, we have open campus for lunch, so there's no need to check out. And I'm sure that if I'm late coming back, they would accept an excuse from a police detective. Not that I plan to be late.
I see a charcoal-colored Chevy sedan parked directly o out front, and I'm sure it must be Ebony's, which seems ironic since it's not supposed to draw your attention. But because the vehicle is so plain and frumpy looking, it almost seems to scream
unmarked police car.
Really, they should be driving Honda Civics.
I squint, trying to see the driver through the passenger side window, but the tinting is so dark that I can't really tell. Then the driver side door opens, and an attractive African-American woman stands up and waves over the roof at me, and I know that it's Ebony. “Hey, Samantha.”
“Hey,” I call back as I go up to the car.
“Hop in.”
I get into the car, which looks even more like a cop car on the inside, and buckle up.
“That tinted glass,” she says as she pulls out, “makes it hard to see who's sitting inside. And considering your missing friend, I'm glad to see that you don't just hop into cars with strangers.”
“Yeah, my dad made sure I had that one down when I was really little.”
“Good for him.” She's driving toward town now. “You mind if we eat at Rosie's?”
“That's fine.” I remember the little deli my dad used to take me to occasionally. It's always been popular with cops. “I haven't been there in ages.”
“It's so great to see you again, Samantha.” She glances over at me and smiles.
I laugh too. “Actually, it used to be kind of thrilling when Dad would let me ride with him in the patrol car.”
“But not so much now that you're older.”
“Not so much.”
So I tell her what time to pick me up and where, and then I hang up and hand the phone back to Olivia.
“That seemed to go okay,” she says as she turns it off and puts it back in her bag.
“Yeah. Ebony actually sounded really nice.”
“Any reason she shouldn't sound nice?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Not really.” We're just going into the building now, and this is a conversation that I'm not ready to start, or maybe even to have.
I don't begin to feel really nervous until fourth period. Fortunately, it's PE, and Mrs. Harper has us running our legs off on the basketball court. I think it's punishment for not going out for the girls' basketball team, which shecoaches and which doesn't sound like it'll have much
Ti
potential this year. But as a result of the many drills she puts us through, I don't have too much time to obsess
v over
what I'm going to say to Ebony.
© Of course, as we're getting dressed afterward, Olivia feels the need to remind me of my lunch date. “Do you have it sort of worked out?” she asks in a slightly hushedtone since Emma and Brittany are nearby. “I mean, do you have an idea about what you're going to tell her?”
I toss my sweaty PE clothes into my locker, slam it, then start shoving my feet into my boots. “Not really. I'm praying that God will lead me.”
She nods. “I'll be praying too.”
I'm dressed now, and it's time to head out to meet Ebony. I pull on my jacket and run my fingers through my slightly messy hair. “Here I go.”
Olivia holds up crossed fingers. “See ya.”
“Where's Samantha taking off to in such a big rush?” Emma asks as I head for the door.
“She's got a date,” Olivia tells them in a mysterious voice.
“Who with?” asks Brittany.
“I'll bet she's meeting Conrad Stiles,” says Emma. “I've heard he thinks she's hot.”
I consider this comment as I hurry out of the locker room and through the breezeway that leads to the front of the school. Conrad's a nice enough guy, and from what I've heard a strong Christian too, but I had no idea he was into me—if he really is. Emma was probably just pulling my leg, I tell myself as I go past security and exit the main entrance.
Fortunately, we have open campus for lunch, so there's no need to check out. And I'm sure that if I'm late coming back, they would accept an excuse from a police detective. Not that I plan to be late.
I see a charcoal-colored Chevy sedan parked directly o out front, and I'm sure it must be Ebony's, which seems ironic since it's not supposed to draw your attention. But because the vehicle is so plain and frumpy looking, it almost seems to scream
unmarked police car.
Really, they should be driving Honda Civics.
I squint, trying to see the driver through the passenger side window, but the tinting is so dark that I can't really tell. Then the driver side door opens, and an attractive African-American woman stands up and waves over the roof at me, and I know that it's Ebony. “Hey, Samantha.”
“Hey,” I call back as I go up to the car.
“Hop in.”
I get into the car, which looks even more like a cop car on the inside, and buckle up.
“That tinted glass,” she says as she pulls out, “makes it hard to see who's sitting inside. And considering your missing friend, I'm glad to see that you don't just hop into cars with strangers.”
“Yeah, my dad made sure I had that one down when I was really little.”
“Good for him.” She's driving toward town now. “You mind if we eat at Rosie's?”
“That's fine.” I remember the little deli my dad used to take me to occasionally. It's always been popular with cops. “I haven't been there in ages.”
“It's so great to see you again, Samantha.” She glances over at me and smiles.
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