Let Him In (Let Him Trilogy) by Sharon Davis Page A

throw up. Something much, much worse.
    Sammy sprinted toward the woods as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. Roughly seven feet in and he was clawing at his zipper. He shoved his pants down around his ankles and squatted just as a stream of molten lava shot out of his ass. He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out.
    Of course that would be the one thing he was able to feel.
    His watery eyes darted to the store door. Don’t come out yet, please don’t—
    The cow bell clunked and Sammy yelped, almost falling over in his haste to waddle behind the massive oak tree he had used to steady himself as his ass had become a flamethrower.
    With furrowed brows and lips pressed together so hard they looked as white as he, the girl shoved one of two plastic bags into the compartment under the seat and then tied the other to the back of her scooter.
    Sammy frowned. Was she mad because he’d talked to her? Wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. He sniffed the air. Just as he’d expected, his senses were too impaired from malnourishment for him to be able to get a read on her emotions through her blood.
    As she sped out of the parking lot Sammy’s heart sank so low he thought it might drop out of his ass, which he swiped with a giant green leaf before standing up. Maybe she had bad vision and hadn’t seen him standing there. Maybe she was hard of hearing—or even deaf!—and hadn’t heard him speak. Maybe she’d been taught by her parents never to talk to strangers, which was good advice considering there were a lot of monsters out there posing as humans…he should know, he lived with two of them.
    Returning to the bench, Sammy wondered as he stretched out on it whether the girl lived in Hermit or if she was there visiting relatives. She looked to be his age, so if she had moved there then he’d probably see her again at school. He groaned as a wave of nausea crashed through him. If he got a second chance with her, he couldn’t blow it. He was tired of being alone, of having no one to talk to and nothing better to do than play video games and hang out at the store.
    It was pathetic.
    He only hoped that the girl hadn’t already written him off as pathetic, too.
    Sitting cross-legged on the floor with her hands pressed against her stomach, Lacey suppressed a gag as she watched the kitten attack the mushy mound of salmon-flavored cat food like piranha on a capybara. “Take my advice, kitty—don’t overdo it.”
    She scrunched her face up tight, moaned. Four candy bars and two cans of soda hadn’t been such a good idea after all.
    Lacey took deep breaths as she stroked the kitten’s soft, white fur. After the urge to vomit finally passed, she swallowed hard and then said, “So...any ideas for a name?” The face of the unnaturally white boy from the store popped into her mind. “I know it’s not original but how about Casper?”
    The kitten looked up, licked a glob of food off its chin, then turned its attention back to the plate of food. “You don’t care what I call you as long as I keep the food coming, huh?” 
    Lacey chuckled as she stretched out on the floor, lacing her fingers behind her head. “Ghost Boy,” she whispered, wondering if he was an albino. What started out as humming soon turned to singing: “There was a boy with black hair, he gave people quite a scare, with his white face and clumsy grace, to speak to him you wouldn’t dare.” 
    She giggled. “That’s pretty good, actually...”
    After turning up the stereo volume Lacey grabbed a pen and a tablet of paper from the stack on top of the desk and then sat down on the bed. She scribbled the lyrics to her “Ghost Boy” song diagonally across the blank page. Flipping onto her stomach, she began sketching his face as she sang along with Kevin Rudolf’s “Let It Rock”. After she’d finished it, she held up her drawing for a closer inspection. “Looks like you gave the world your middle finger a long time ago,