Henry Franks A Novel - By Peter Adam Salomon Page 0,21

one deep breath after another.

The alarm shattered the quiet. Henry stood up, next to Dr. Saville as she dropped the pad down on the desk. It landed next to a folded-over copy of the Brunswick News. He could only see half of the full-color photograph of police cars beneath a banner headline about the two bodies found the day before. The top sheet of paper on the pad, beneath Henry’s name and the date, was blank except for the one drop of blood that had fallen on it.

twelve

Justine was in his seat when he climbed up the steps onto the bus. As Henry walked down the plastic runner, her mouth fell open and, as he sat down next to her, she pushed it closed with her index finger.

“You own a white shirt?” She smiled before her mouth fell open again in mock surprise. “Really? White? I’m shocked.”

“Does it ruin my look?”

“You have a look?” She laughed. “I guess shorts would have been too much to ask for?”

“I—” He looked at her. Her bare legs were tan and a stark contrast to his dark jeans. A green tank top hid her bra strap but little else, and he swallowed before looking away. “I never wear shorts.”

“What do you swim in?”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

“Is that another one of those things you don’t remember? Maybe you used to swim? How would you know?”

“My father made a scrapbook,” he said. “With a bunch of pictures of me from before the accident.” Henry ran his fingers through his hair, but it fell back down in front of his eyes anyway.

“Any with you in shorts?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, never looked.”

“Can I see?”

“Me in shorts?”

“Well, now that you mention it,” she said before shaking her head. “No, the scrapbook.”

“Why?”

Justine looked up, half-turning to face him. Her fingers, with their pale pink nail polish, drummed against the seat between them. She smiled. “To help?”

He looked at her, studying the warmth of her smile, the depth of her eyes as she faced him. He took a deep breath and smiled back. “I found some pictures in the basement the other day.”

“Of you?”

“No. I don’t know. They looked like me,” he said. “But these were old, black-and-white.”

“Did they remind you of anything?”

“I think maybe they’re of my dad.”

“So?” she asked.

“When I went back to look at them, they were gone.”

“Gone?”

“The basement was cleaned up and the pictures were missing.”

“Maybe your dad has them,” Justine said. “Have you asked him?”

“I tried, but I don’t see him very often, really.” Henry smiled. “I live the perfect teenage life, no parents.” The smile faded. “Kinda sucks.”

She rested her fingers on his arm, right above the scar, as the bus pulled into the high school. The movement slid her strap down her shoulder.

“You match again,” Henry said. Even through her tan, she blushed.

They walked off the bus and into school together until her friends called her away. Still, she lingered next to him a moment longer before leaving. His scar, which she’d almost touched, didn’t itch at all.

After eating lunch, Henry left the cafeteria and headed for the library, hoping to catch Justine before she finished studying. As he passed the lab he almost ran into the new science teacher, but someone reached out for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the way.

“Trying to kill another teacher, Scarface?” Bobby said.

“What?” Henry tried to shrug out of Bobby’s grip, but the much-larger football player held him easily.

“You live on the island, don’t you?” Bobby asked. “Lots of dead bodies piling up out there. I think I might need to start gathering some pitchforks and villagers.”

Henry squirmed, but Bobby just pushed him harder into the lockers. The hall was empty now that the teacher had gone in to the lab. “Just let me go.”

“Oh, and about Justine? She’s cute,” Bobby said. “Out of your league, though, sorry about that.” He smiled and pushed Henry away, sending him to the floor.

Henry picked himself up but Bobby was already walking into the library. He looked through the library window long enough to see Justine turn away from Bobby, but he was too far away to hear what she said.

“Out of your league too,” Henry said with a smile, running his fingers over the scar on his wrist.

Officials at Town Hall Meeting

Warn of Suspected Serial Killings

Brunswick, GA—August 21, 2009: Mayor Jim Monroe appeared with Carmella Rawls of the Brunswick Police Department and Major Daniel Johnson of FLETC at a press conference at Glynn