He’d kill me if he knew I told you. Promise me,” she demanded, her expression serious.
“Alright. I promise,” I agreed. Then I thought of Bo. I had to tell him, but I didn’t want to out-and-out lie to Savannah. “Unless Bo comes back, too. I can tell him, right?”
Savannah grinned tolerantly. “Yes. If Bo mysteriously turns back up, you can tell him.”
We were silent for a few minutes, each lost in thought.
“So, did he say where he’s been? What happened?”
“No, he told me he’d find me later and we’d talk more.”
“Why is he back now? I mean, where has he been?”
Savannah shrugged.
“All he said was that he could finally trust himself around me, whatever that means.”
A little twinge of unease poked the back of my mind, but I was still too flabbergasted to make much sense of it right then.
“Devon’s back,” I said numbly. What in the world could that mean? And Savannah could actually see him. I was missing something, something important. I could feel it, but I just couldn’t latch on to it.
“What are you doing in here anyway? How’d you know where to find me?”
“Dead cowboy,” I answered absently.
“Dead- oh, Zach.”
“Right, Zach.”
“Well,” Savannah said, standing abruptly. “Let’s go get our freak on. We’ve got some rug to cut before midnight.”
That shook me out of my stupor.
“I don’t think there’s going to be any more dancing tonight.”
“Why not?”
“Bailey Adams showed up with a torn costume and blood all over her face.
She’s saying that Summer attacked her and Jason and then dragged Jason off.”
Savannah gasped. “Shut up!”
“I’m serious.”
“What- I mean, who—”
“Don’t ask me. I’ve got nothing.”
“Come on, then. Let’s go see what’s going on,” Savannah said, grabbing my hand and tugging me forward. “Well, you can see. I’ll listen.”
I looked over at her and she was grinning cheekily. She was fine, right back to her old self. Nothing got Savannah down for long.
“You’re impossible.”
“I know,” she agreed pleasantly.
The cops were just arriving as we walked back into the gym. I gave Savannah a play-by-play of what I was seeing.
“One cop’s got Bailey over in the corner asking her questions. There’s another one talking to Mr. Hall. The back doors are open and I can see some lights out there. I guess they’re looking for Jason.”
The cop that was talking to Mr. Hall strode to the center of that area marked off to be the dance floor and he stopped.
“Can I have your attention, please?” he shouted in an authoritative voice.
A hush fell over the room and every eye turned toward him.
“One of the cops is getting ready to make an announcement,” I whispered to Savannah.
“I kinda figured that out,” she whispered back. “I’m blind, not deaf, remember?”
“Oh,” I said, feeling a sheepish grin slide into place. “Sorry.”
“My name is Officer Felding and I’m going to need everyone to form a single file line in front of that table,” he said, indicating the refreshments table. “I’m going to need your name, address and contact information, as well as your whereabouts for the last two hours. That includes bathroom breaks, trips to your car, any time and any reason that you were not inside this room.”
He backed up toward the table, raising his arms and motioning us forward like a ground crew member at the airport, guiding a large plane into its hangar.
Kids started slowly moving forward to follow him, squeezing themselves into a thin line that snaked all the way around the gym.
The cop turned and spoke to Mr. Hall, who scrambled off quickly, obviously sent in search of something. A few minutes later, after the cop had cleared a spot on the refreshments table, Mr. Hall returned with two metal folding chairs in one hand and a stack of paper in the other.
The cop took the stack of paper and put it in on the table in front of him. He unfolded one of the chairs and sat. Mr. Hall unfolded the other and slid it under the table on the other side, opposite the policeman.
Officer Felding motioned the first student forward. It was a girl and, if the look on her face was any indication, she was scared to death. He motioned for her to sit in the chair opposite him as he began asking her questions. And so the process began. Savannah and I chatted quietly amongst ourselves and with the few others in our part of the line. Meanwhile, I scanned the shadows and the doorways, constantly watching for Bo.
I knew it would be incredibly difficult for him to contact me without being discovered. I’m sure he wished, as I did, that his invisibility was more controllable, more of an at-will condition. With fresh blood in his system, without some serious stress to burn it off, he’d be quite discernible for some time.
A shiver passed through me as I thought of him being attacked by a vampire Drew or a whatever-she-is Summer and having to fight for his life. That would increase his metabolism, but I’d rather him not gain his transparency in such a way.
No one could be 100% certain yet that Bo was the boy who can’t be killed, and until that could be ascertained, I didn’t want him taking any chances.
Savannah was deep in conversation with one of our school band’s violinists when something fluttered in my stomach. Once more, my eyes searched the periphery of the room.
I caught movement in the same hallway Bo had taken me into. Something shifted just inside the shadows. I saw the flash of a hand as it breeched the light. It motioned me forward and then disappeared again. It had to be Bo. Didn’t it?
I scrambled for an excuse, a good reason to escape the crowded gymnasium and make my way to Bo. I spotted another cop, standing by the double doors at the back of the gym, the ones that were propped open and now showed a string of yellow crime scene tape that passed in front of them. I concluded that they must’ve found something bothersome.
“I’ve gotta pee,” I told Savannah. I waved to the policeman. “Excuse me.”
His head turned toward me and he motioned me forward. I hurried toward him, smiling my most innocent, beguiling smile.
“I’m sorry, but is there any way that I could be excused for, like, five minutes to go to the bathroom?”
When he didn’t immediately agree, I pressed. “Please?” I think I might even have batted my eyelashes. I can’t be sure.