Wicked Hunger

Wicked Hunger Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Tasting Death

Ketchup grins at me when I crawl into his car. I’m barely even awake enough to smack him in the arm. That only makes him laugh. I’d like to hit him again, but I slouch down in my seat instead. Ignoring him is all the reaction I have strength for right now. Maybe it’s the fact that Zander isn’t here, or it might be my sour attitude, but Ketchup doesn’t lurch away from my house like he usually does when he picks me up. He looks over at me seriously, his posture soft and inviting. Then again, it might be the fact that when Zander told me last night after he picked me up from work that he wouldn’t be able to take me to school today, I called Ketchup instead of asking Grandma for a ride.

I didn’t call Ketchup because anything has changed. The more time I spend with Noah and his family, the more my desire to have a normal life grows. I called Ketchup because Zander has been acting really weird since Sunday night. Well, Monday morning, I should say. I don’t know where he was all night, but he didn’t get home until after three in the morning again. All yesterday he acted nervous, but at the same time relieved. It was a weird combination I couldn’t explain. Then he tells me he can’t take me to school because he’s picking Ivy up so they can go out after practice. He didn’t want to tell me what they were doing, but I wouldn’t let him go until he admitted they were going to a movie.

Maybe to anyone else that would seem harmless enough, but I know better. Hunger mixed with him and Ivy sitting up close and personal in the dark is the fast track to disaster. I freaked out and yelled at him, just barely holding back another punch in the face, but he wouldn't relent. He kept saying it was fine. He had everything taken care of. I have no idea what that meant, but when he slipped and said Ivy was going to help him, I knew something was wrong. He clammed up and refused to even speak to me after that. There’s no way Ivy can help him unless she knew what the problem is.

He told her something.

“Hey,” Ketchup says, “are you okay? You aren’t usually this crabby in the morning.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night.”

Ketchup startles me by slipping his hand over mine. “Van, what’s wrong?”

Shaking my head, I look over at him. “Something’s up with Zander…something’s wrong. I’m afraid something bad is going to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he told Ivy something he shouldn’t have, and now they’re planning on going out tonight. Alone. He’s acting weird…taking risks, keeping secrets, acting moody and edgy.”

“Isn’t that how it started with Oscar?” Ketchup asks without looking at me.

My eyes pinch shut, and I have to force the lump in my throat back down. “Yeah.”

My bottom lips starts trembling. Ketchup’s arm wraps around my shoulders and pulls me against his chest. I bury my face against his shirt and take slow deep breaths. I don’t want to cry, not in front of Ketchup. He’s stubborn and pigheaded, but he can’t stand to see girls cry. If I start blubbering in front of him, I’ll never get him to focus. A few minutes later, I pull away from him slowly. His eyes meet mine, and I can see the concern building by the second.

“We’ll figure something out, okay, Van? Whatever it takes, we won’t let Zander end up like Oscar. Just tell me what to do.” He’s absolutely serious, and I love him for it. He doesn’t understand even half of what’s going on, but he’ll do anything I ask of him. He let go of my hand when he moved to hold me, but I take his now and squeeze it.

“Thanks, Ketchup.”

He smiles and doesn’t say anything. The flick of the kitchen curtain draws my attention. Grandma stares down at us with one eyebrow raised. A clear what are you two doing out there is reflected in that one look. Before she decides to investigate, I say, “Let’s get going, okay?”