now?” This time he twists in his seat and faces me full on so that I cannot possibly miss how monumentally stupid he thinks I am. You’d think a guy with a black eye and busted lip wouldn’t be able to pull that look off, but if anything the bruises enhance it.
“You’re an asshole,” I say, and finally I find the momentum to climb out of the car and slam the door behind me. Still pissed, I march up to the front door and . . . it’s locked. Luckily, I’ve seen Dylan retrieve the spare key from behind the loose brick enough times to get it in my hands and start fitting it in the lock by the time Smith saunters up behind me.
“You’ll set off the alarm,” he says.
“You don’t have an alarm,” I shoot back as I push the door open. Immediately an alarm begins to shriek. Pushing past me, Smith punches numbers into a keypad beside the door.
“So that’s new,” I say as the alarm goes quiet and Smith turns to face me.
“Actually, we’ve always had it, but Dyl was constantly setting it off accidentally so Teena had the service disconnected. Then after Dyl . . .” Smith shrugs, letting me fill in the blank there. “Teena was freaked out and had it reactivated.”
“Is . . .” I glance around. “Is Teena home?” It’s weird even mentioning her around Smith, but if he is bothered, he doesn’t show it.
Smith shakes his head. “She’s out of town for the weekend.”
“Oh.” I nod, and then realize that neither of us has taken a single step away from the front door. “I guess we should check Dyl’s room, right?” I ask, knowing I’m risking Smith biting my head off again.
But he just looks up at the ceiling, as if searching for some sort of sign. I’m guessing he doesn’t find one, ’cause his gaze returns to me. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, you wished for her sleeping safe in her own bed, right? So that’s where she’d probably be.”
“I don’t think I said sleeping. Did I say sleeping? ’Cause then would that mean that she never wakes up?”
“How the hell should I know? It was your wish.”
“I didn’t know it was a real wish! And I was drunk so I don’t remember what I said!” I close my eyes, knowing if I see Smith smirk at me one more time I’ll punch him in the face. And then I remember the wish with such perfect clarity that I can recall the exact way that the words felt on my lips. “‘Alive and safe in her own bed.’ That’s what I said. Not sleeping. Just alive. And safe.”
“Okay then,” Smith says. “That’s good.” He hesitates a moment longer, then suddenly turns and plants his fist into the wall behind him. Pulling it out of the crumbly drywall, he nods. “I’m ready.” And with his usual long strides, Smith heads farther into the house.
I chase behind him. “Hey, maybe you can give me a warning the next time you’re gonna do that? It’s kinda freaking me out.”
“Can’t,” Smith throws over his shoulder. “It’s an impulse. Just do it. You know?”
I roll my eyes, but don’t respond because we are climbing the stairs and as soon as my foot hits the first step my whole body gets Jell-O shaky. At the top of the stairs, we both walk as softly as possible across the creaky hardwood floors until we come to a stop outside Dyl’s closed bedroom door.
Smith exhales a long, shaky breath before lifting his non-bloodied left hand up and softly tapping his knuckles against the door.
“You’re knocking?” I whisper.
“Yes,” he hisses back. “We always knock. You don’t barge into someone’s room without—”
Ignoring Smith, I turn the knob and walk right in. Dyl’s room is unchanged from the last time I was here. The same mixture of posters and rough charcoal drawings cover the walls. Clothes are strewn everywhere except for the corner where her record player and several messy piles of vinyl take over.
I finally turn my attention to Dyl’s bed. She always tried to be so tough, so hard. Hair dyed in various color streaks, most recently a mixture of white blond and purpley black. Spiked piercings in her lips and brow and ears. Dark red lipstick, heavy black eyeliner, and chipped black and blue nail polish. She sometimes wore the preppy clothes her mom bought, but only after attacking them with bleach and sandpaper and who knows what