Heart

Fifteen

When I shoved out of that room, I  headed straight for my locker. I knew Al would be there waiting for me--and he was. As soon as I was within distance, I reached out and snatched Al’s hand, tugging him down the hall. I knew that people might overhear if we just talked at my locker, so I wanted to find somewhere more quiet. Of course, he couldn’t go into the woman’s bathroom and I couldn’t go into the men’s, so it left one other choice for me: a supply closet.

I pushed Alan inside and shut the door behind me, groping for the light switch. Once the small space was illuminated, I could see that my pal was not exactly happy about the situation. He had lowered his eyebrows so that a dark shadow was cast over his eyes.

“What, are you doing,” he said slowly.

“Alan, Mr. Hatcher--he’s the one! He took Gabriella!”

Alan shook his head once, and studied my face. “Kara, keep your voice down. The door’s not sound proof, you know.”

“Alan! Didn’t you hear what I said?”

“Yes. Now, why do you think he’s the kidnapper?” I knew by the slowness of his speech that he thought I was wrong. Or, at least he thought that I had made an accusation too quickly.

“I saw Gabriella’s charm bracelet in his desk drawer!”

That made him pause; he blinked and only stared at me, through me. A haze crept over his brown pools as he fell into a pensive state. I knew he would be sifting through all possible explanations in his mind before he said anything. He turned to the side and slipped a hand over the back of his neck, massaging it thoughtfully.

My heart was still pounding like a drum, but at least there was no danger of it escaping its cage; my supplies were smashed hard against my chest with tension-fueled strength.

“Okay,” Al murmured finally, “Just because he has Gabriella’s bracelet doesn’t mean he’s the one who kidnapped her. There could be all sorts of different reasons why he has it.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Maybe, but in this particular situation, it sure makes him look suspicious, don’t you think?”

“Yes. But so do you, threatening her like that.”

I scowled. “Thanks for rubbing salt into that wound.”

He shrugged. “All I’m saying is that we need a little more proof--and we’re going to get it, don’t worry. But first we need to figure out how to do that.”

I rolled my eyes, grumbling, “And by ‘we’ you mean ‘you.’”

“No, you can help if you want.”

I threw him a smirk before taking a step back and leaning against the door, trying to think. I was probably too sure of myself to come up with anything good though; in the end, it would most likely be Alan who would triumph. And, it didn’t really bother me. That much.

Something clicked. “Hey, what kind of car does he drive?” I asked.

Alan shook his head. “I don’t know, but it shouldn’t be that hard to find out.”

“We could ask around.”

A ghost of a smile traced his lips and his eyes sparkled. “Now what would be the fun in that?”

***

Alan and I sat in his truck after school in the parking lot, the heat turned to the lowest setting. It made the cab nice and cozy as we stared out the windshield, carefully watching. He had parked his truck close to a cluster of teacher’s cars so we could try and stay inconspicuous. Al had his upper torso slightly leaning forward, elbows resting on the steering wheel, and I was just relaxing in my seat. We were waiting for a certain special someone.