The Arrangement

Prologue

My legs twitch nervously as I sit on one of the bright red benches by the school car line. The beginning of a Floridian tropical storm pounds against the tin roof of the overhang, sheltering the pick-up area, sending a waterfall over the edge into the gutter.

I watch the last of the kids rescued by their parents in the car line, school being dismissed early due to the severe weather. My friend, Jenny, glances over her shoulder sympathetically before ducking her head under her backpack and climbing into her dad's fancy black sedan.

Wait, Evie, maybe they'll still come, I tell myself.

I yank up my bright pink Barbie backpack Mom had gotten me at the beginning of the school year and tug on one of my braids. A bolt of lightening brightens up the storm darkened Elementary school parking lot, and thunder rumbles shortly after.

"Do we need to call someone for you, Evie?" One of the school staff members asks.

"No, they'll be here soon," I say.

Sometimes they forget.

My fingers curl over the strap of my backpack.

I take a deep breath and rise up from the bench.

"Wait, where are you going? We can call them!" The school worker calls after me, but I begin to make a run for it, my light-up sneakers soaking through to my socks as I hurry away from the school.

It's my fault. I'm a bad kid. I shouldn't have made Mom upset this morning. I didn't clean up my room like she asked.

Maybe she got into a car accident.

My heart rate picks up at the thought.

What if Dad left? He's always saying he's going to leave.

I'm halfway to the house and I'm drenched from head to toe, my hair sticks to my face.

"Hey!" I hear a voice shout at me, and I snap my gaze in the direction of the sound.

A young man has rolled down his car window and stopped at the curb for me, "do you need help, little girl?"

"N-no," I say quickly. "I'm not allowed to take rides from strangers."

The young man has light blonde hair, and a lanky build, probably no more than eighteen or nineteen, he doesn't look offended by my fear, instead he seems to respect it, nodding his head at me. "Good idea, you're very smart, but I'm just asking if you want me to call someone for you. This is a tropical storm. No one should be out in this." He pauses and studies me. "Hey, kid, are those finger marks on your arm?"

I blink at him and realize where Dad had grabbed me yesterday when I hadn't stopped playing my music must have left bruises. My mom hadn't noticed them, but this stranger does?

"Hey, kid, are you okay?" The stranger asks, his brow furrows.

Suddenly I'm panicked.

This guy probably wants to kidnap me! I have to get away from him.

"No, I don't need your help!" I shout at the young man. And I begin to run, this time cutting through someone's yard.

I'll zig-zag, take a long route home, just so I'm not followed.

"Wait, little girl, I just want to make sure you're okay!" The young man calls after me.

Yeah, right. No one cares if I'm okay.

I'm out of breath by the time I finally reach my neighbor's yard and hop the fence, tearing my school uniform as I do so. I stumble through a mud puddle in the overgrown backyard. My shoes are ruined. My clothes are ruined and I'm pretty sure I cut myself on the fence too.