the setting.
“I hope you’re not giving him shit,” Aaron says, misreading the concern in my voice. “He said he was leaving town with you and asked for Marie’s contact information. I told him I didn’t have it. He promised me the two of you were good again.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, “you should know by now that when someone promises something, it just means they’re trying extra hard at lying. Find Marie,” I tell him. “And tell her to meet me in Roseburg. I’ll text a new number when I get there. But,Aaron, you can’t tell Deacon you heard from me if he calls back. Not this time. Keep this one secret for me.”
Aaron scoffs. “You should know by now that when someone asks you to keep a secret, it just means they’re about to do something really fucking stupid.”
I smile, missing our friendship. All the days of driving around with him, listening to stories and joking about everything. Our lives were never easy as closers, but we had our moments. “Tell Myra I’m sorry for calling,” I say. “And tell her I miss her mean ass.”
Aaron laughs. “I will. Be in touch soon.”
I click off the phone and slip it into my pocket. I’ll ditch it soon, but first I have some arrangements to make. I get up and start down the block. The feeling of being watched has faded, and although I’m still slightly unsettled by it, hearing Aaron’s voice has given me back some of my confidence. Reminded me of who I am.
I’m a good closer. I can become anyone. And if I want to travel undetected, I’ll need to become someone else.
CHAPTER SIX
THE MORNING FOG IS BURNING off, and I want to get to Roseburg before school lets out. I run my hand through my hair, reminded that I cut it short just a week ago. I wanted to look more like Catalina. Now I’ll need another look.
I head toward an outdoor mall, and although most of the stores are still closed, there’s a small food court in a center building where several groups of people are hanging around the coffee station. I spot a blond, plain-faced girl with a giant bag over her shoulder, which I assume, judging by the size, is carrying all the essentials of her wardrobe. She looks college-age, maybe grabbing her coffee before class.
I watch her a moment as she talks on the phone, laughing at something, crinkling her nose a moment later. I make sure no one is watching, and then I mimic her. The left side of herlip goes crooked when she talks, like it’s hitched up on a tooth. It’s cute. I imagine it’s a quirk her friends like about her.
She flips her hair over her shoulder and sets her bag on the counter. There are other people around her, but not too close. She’s talking on her phone, essentially shutting down possible conversations with others. Her hair’s longer than mine, so I’ll need extensions. Other than that, she will be easy to copy.
I check around one last time and then start in her direction, taking a spot next to her at the counter, pretending to wait for a coffee. She glances over at me, uninterested, and turns away.
“Then he’s an idiot,” she says into the phone. “Tell him . . .”
I tune her out and use my peripheral vision to make sure no one is looking at me. I lean forward and slide my hand into her bag. For a moment I panic, thinking it’s too stuffed with random objects, but my hand touches what feels like a wallet, and I take it out. It’s small, black leather, and I close my hand around it. I slip it into my pocket, swing around, and start walking away, all in a smooth movement.
When I get to the other side of the coffee kiosk, I open the wallet and remove her driver’s license and a credit card. I won’t have much time to use it before she cancels it, so I’ll have to make arrangements quickly. When I have what I need, I set the wallet on the counter near the register while the barista is taking an order.
“Someone forgot this,” I mumble, not making eye contact. The barista thanks me, and I quickly escape into
“I hope you’re not giving him shit,” Aaron says, misreading the concern in my voice. “He said he was leaving town with you and asked for Marie’s contact information. I told him I didn’t have it. He promised me the two of you were good again.”
“Yeah, well,” I say, “you should know by now that when someone promises something, it just means they’re trying extra hard at lying. Find Marie,” I tell him. “And tell her to meet me in Roseburg. I’ll text a new number when I get there. But,Aaron, you can’t tell Deacon you heard from me if he calls back. Not this time. Keep this one secret for me.”
Aaron scoffs. “You should know by now that when someone asks you to keep a secret, it just means they’re about to do something really fucking stupid.”
I smile, missing our friendship. All the days of driving around with him, listening to stories and joking about everything. Our lives were never easy as closers, but we had our moments. “Tell Myra I’m sorry for calling,” I say. “And tell her I miss her mean ass.”
Aaron laughs. “I will. Be in touch soon.”
I click off the phone and slip it into my pocket. I’ll ditch it soon, but first I have some arrangements to make. I get up and start down the block. The feeling of being watched has faded, and although I’m still slightly unsettled by it, hearing Aaron’s voice has given me back some of my confidence. Reminded me of who I am.
I’m a good closer. I can become anyone. And if I want to travel undetected, I’ll need to become someone else.
CHAPTER SIX
THE MORNING FOG IS BURNING off, and I want to get to Roseburg before school lets out. I run my hand through my hair, reminded that I cut it short just a week ago. I wanted to look more like Catalina. Now I’ll need another look.
I head toward an outdoor mall, and although most of the stores are still closed, there’s a small food court in a center building where several groups of people are hanging around the coffee station. I spot a blond, plain-faced girl with a giant bag over her shoulder, which I assume, judging by the size, is carrying all the essentials of her wardrobe. She looks college-age, maybe grabbing her coffee before class.
I watch her a moment as she talks on the phone, laughing at something, crinkling her nose a moment later. I make sure no one is watching, and then I mimic her. The left side of herlip goes crooked when she talks, like it’s hitched up on a tooth. It’s cute. I imagine it’s a quirk her friends like about her.
She flips her hair over her shoulder and sets her bag on the counter. There are other people around her, but not too close. She’s talking on her phone, essentially shutting down possible conversations with others. Her hair’s longer than mine, so I’ll need extensions. Other than that, she will be easy to copy.
I check around one last time and then start in her direction, taking a spot next to her at the counter, pretending to wait for a coffee. She glances over at me, uninterested, and turns away.
“Then he’s an idiot,” she says into the phone. “Tell him . . .”
I tune her out and use my peripheral vision to make sure no one is looking at me. I lean forward and slide my hand into her bag. For a moment I panic, thinking it’s too stuffed with random objects, but my hand touches what feels like a wallet, and I take it out. It’s small, black leather, and I close my hand around it. I slip it into my pocket, swing around, and start walking away, all in a smooth movement.
When I get to the other side of the coffee kiosk, I open the wallet and remove her driver’s license and a credit card. I won’t have much time to use it before she cancels it, so I’ll have to make arrangements quickly. When I have what I need, I set the wallet on the counter near the register while the barista is taking an order.
“Someone forgot this,” I mumble, not making eye contact. The barista thanks me, and I quickly escape into
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