Meg Cabot - Awaken

“Hey, Pierce,” Alex said, getting up from his counter stool and going to the refrigerator. “Remember when we played World of Warcraft and we hit the level where the guy was just an innocent pawn being used by all the much more evil characters?”

“I do not remember that level,” I said.

“Yeah, well, I do.” Alex opened the refrigerator, took out a carton of milk, and drank from it. “You insisted we tell him the truth, and he couldn’t handle it, and did something dumbly noble, and died. Don’t do that in this level.”

“Alex,” my mother said. “Please don’t drink milk straight from the carton.”

Uncle Chris saw the file Alex had stolen from Mr. Rector’s office sitting on the counter. “What’s this?” he said curiously, reaching for it.

“ Don’t! ” Alex and I both cried at the exact same time.

“It’s nothing,” Mom said. She quickly lifted the file. “It’s something of mine … for work.”

“Work?” Uncle Chris squinted down at the file in her arms. “It says Rector Realty on it. You work at the Marine Institute. What has the Marine Institute got to do with Rector Realty?”

“I’m, um, doing some research,” Mom said. “On Reef Key. Just a little private research of my own. In fact, I was about to head upstairs and get dressed and start my research right now on the computer.”

“That’s a good idea, Aunt Deb,” Alex said. “Want me to come help you?”

“No, thank you, Alex,” Mom said with some of her old acerbic dryness. “I’m quite capable of getting dressed and doing research on my own.”

“Really, Aunt Deb,” Alex said, following my mom as she backed out of the kitchen and down the hallway, towards the stairs. “I want to help.”

What Alex wanted, I knew, was not to let that file out of his sight. He wasn’t used to trusting adults — it wasn’t as if any had ever been there for him in the past — and it didn’t look as if he was ready to start now.

“Really, Alex,” I heard my mother say from the hallway. “I’m not going to do anything without your permission, and I’ll give it back when I’m done with it.”

Uncle Chris, looking a little anxious, watched them go.

“Piercey,” he said in a low voice, so they wouldn’t overhear. “Does Alex seem … different to you?”

“Different?” I asked. “In what way?”

“I don’t know,” Uncle Chris said. “He seems a little more … mature, or something. Almost overnight.”

Being murdered by your peers, then brought back from the dead, could certainly have that effect on you.

I didn’t mention this to Uncle Chris, however. All I said was, “I don’t know. I haven’t really noticed.”

I didn’t like lying to him. But he was Alex’s father and Alex didn’t want him knowing the truth, so I felt like I had to respect that.

“Well, I’ve noticed,” Uncle Chris said, reaching up to scratch his head beneath his Isla Huesos Bait and Tackle baseball cap. “I think it’s a good thing. Maybe that New Pathways program you two are in at school is working on him. Or maybe it’s you, being a good influence on him, Piercey. But I’m finally starting to get the feeling I don’t have to worry about him as much. You know?”

I swallowed. I couldn’t believe Uncle Chris and I were having this conversation.

“Uh,” I said. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Uncle Chris said, grinning at me. “I was kind of suspicious of that boyfriend of yours at first, but I think maybe he’s a positive role model for Alexander.”

I tried not to glance at the burnt spot in the living room carpet. “Maybe. Or maybe Alex straightened up because he’s so worried about you, Uncle Chris, and that murder charge against you.”

“Oh, that,” Uncle Chris said with a shrug. “I didn’t do it, so I’m sure it will all get straightened out soon. It was nice of your mom to post my bail.”

His naïve belief that the charges would be dropped and everything would work out because he was innocent was sort of astonishing for a man who’d spent so many years in prison. Granted, he’d spent those years in prison for a crime he truly had committed (although the penalty had been far too severe, especially for possession of a drug that was now legal in many states), but surely he must have met a lot of people in there who’d been convinced they were innocent. How could he have so much faith he’d be exonerated?

I guess that was just Uncle Chris. He was a truly positive person. No wonder my mom felt so bad about not coming forward and telling the truth about Mr. Rector. He was a slimebag who preyed on those who weren’t able to defend themselves.

Like the dead.

“Hey, what boats did your dad and that boyfriend of yours go to get?” Uncle Chris asked.

“Oh,” I said. “For, uh, John’s business. His boats got destroyed in the, er, storm, and my dad says he knows a guy who has some other boats John can use.”

“That’s nice,” Uncle Chris said. “I hope your mom and dad get back together. He makes Deb really happy. And I think that John fella makes you happy, too, am I right?” His eyes glinted at me teasingly.

I smiled back at him. “What would make you happy, Uncle Chris?” I asked.

He grinned in that sweet, slightly childish way of his that never failed to tug on my heartstrings.

“If everyone I loved was happy, of course,” he said, as if it should have been obvious.

It was kind of funny that right as he said this, the doorbell rang.

I uttered a curse word I’d picked up from spending way too much time in the company of Frank and Kayla. Uncle Chris looked at me in surprise. “Piercey!” he said, shocked.

“Sorry.” My heart began to drum inside my chest. I heard rapid footsteps in the hallway.

“It’s Chief of Police Santos,” my mother said, her face a mask of concern. “I saw him on the front porch from the window.”

“There are cop cars all up and down the street,” Alex said, skidding into the kitchen right behind her. “Po-pos here to take us to the big house.”

“You don’t know that,” Mom said to him.

“Oh, yeah? Why else do you think they’re here, Aunt Deb? To help you clean up your lawn after the big storm?” Alex’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Yeah, that’s a special service the Isla Huesos police chief offers to all the attractive new divorcées on the island.”

“Mom,” I said, my heart in my throat. “I think we need to borrow your car.”

“How’s that going to work?” Alex demanded. “Chief Santos parked in her driveway. And don’t think he didn’t do it on purpose to block us from getting her car out of the garage. Are we supposed to ram him?”

“Oh,” I said, disappointed. I looked at Alex. “How did you guys get here? In your car?”

“We walked,” Alex said. “Your genius boyfriend had Frank slash all my tires to keep me from going out after Coffin Fest, remember?”

“Oh, right,” I said. That had worked really well, since Alex had gone out anyway and gotten himself killed.

“This is crazy,” Mom said, as the doorbell rang again, this time accompanied by a knock and a deep voice saying, “Dr. Cabrero? We know you’re home. We need to ask you a few questions about your daughter.”

“I’m going to open the door and invite him in and explain the whole situation —”

Both Alex and I had glanced down at the diamond at the end of my necklace. It was the color of onyx. “No!” we cried simultaneously.

“Go out the back,” Uncle Chris said.

I looked at him, startled. I had almost forgotten he was in the room, he’d grown so quiet. Go out the back were the first words he’d said since my mom and Alex had said it was the police at the door.