Tiny Bites Page 9

  Something touched my arm. I jumped, nearly out of my chair. My heart pounded and breathing quickened.

  My dad stared at me, his eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

  I wanted to shout, Do I look okay? But I'd made the decision to hold onto my memories. I would have to live with them and move past them. I'd managed to live, so that was all that really mattered.

  "You just startled me."

  He and Mom exchanged a worried glance.

  Great. With Alexis not around causing trouble, they were overly protective of me. Too bad they hadn't been last night. I might have avoided the whole thing. No, I knew that wasn't true. I couldn't picture either of them able to stand up against the monsters that had terrorized me.

  I faked a big smile. "You guys are such worry-warts. Are you sure you aren't mixing me up with Alexis? She's the one who always gets into so much trouble."

  Dad sighed. "You could be right, angel. We're so used to stressing about her latest antics, I suppose we don't know what to do with ourselves anymore."

  "Well, you don't need to fret over me. In fact, to prove my point, I'm going to spend the whole weekend working on homework. Get my grades up before they have a chance to slide."

  My parents exchanged another look, but didn't say anything. Mom brought the food over and I filled my plate. My mouth watered as I realized how hungry I was. It was amazing the appetite blood-thirsty vampires could instill. I continued my plastic smile and rattled on about celebrity gossip. Not only did it come easily, but they knew it was my obsession.

  They both relaxed noticeably as the meal progressed. By the time I headed up to my room, they were smiling at each other.

  Now I had a couple days to pull myself together before I saw my friends. Sydney and all the girls in our little group knew me better than my parents did. It wouldn't be so easy to pull a fast one on them. But if anyone could do it, it was me. I had survived a vampire attack, after all. I could do anything. And I would.

  The Gone Series

  You're about to read a couple short stories set in the Gone world. They take place before the series starts, so you can read them even if you haven't read the books.

  Researching

  Chester Woodran stared at the pictures. His heart raced. This was the girl. She looked exactly like Heather.

  Sure, her hair was longer and darker. But those things could be fixed. Their faces were almost identical. As though separated by birth. He'd spent countless hours online searching for the right girl. He'd started the search weeks earlier.

  Now it had all paid off. He would get his chance to start over. Undo the mistakes he'd made with his first family. They were gone. He would never get to see them again.

  This girl. She was the key to his second chance. What was her name? He adjusted his oversized glasses. Macy Mercer. All he would need to do would be to win her over, and she would become Heather. His lost daughter.

  He picked up the framed picture of his family and held it up in front of the computer screen. "I'll make everything right. I promise."

  Chester's pulse race as he compared the pictures of the two girls. The new one, she seemed… what was the word? Sweeter? Innocent? All the things Heather had lost.

  The new Heather's eyes shone as she smiled sweetly. At him.

  He double-checked everything on his fake profile. Young, handsome guy. Check. Hip, popular name. Check. Profile filled out with stupid things kids were into these days. Check. Over five hundred fake friends. Check.

  Chester made sure his IP address was blocked and then he sent the request. He held his breath. Would she accept his "friendship" as easily as the other kids? Or would he have to win her over? He loved a good challenge.

  The clock on the wall ticked loudly as he waited. Had it always been this loud? Grating?

  He readjusted his glasses. Ran his hands through his thinning, but still bushy hair. Stood up and stretched.

  She hadn't accepted yet. Smart girl. But he'd get the information he needed. He'd talk her into meeting in person. Then she'd become Heather. He would just need to wait. And he was nothing if not patient.

  The oven timer dinged. It was the perfect distraction. When he returned from dinner, the new Heather might have already accepted the request. He went into the living room and turned off the timer. As he opened the oven, the sweet smell of the chicken potpie made his mouth water.

  Chester set the table and turned on the evening news. A deadly plane crash. Politicians debating. Two homes burned to the ground because of a cigarette.

  This wasn't what he wanted to watch while digesting food. He flipped through the stations until he found something upbeat and familiar. Cheers. Good ol' Sammy. He and Diane were laughing about something. Much better.

  By the time the episode ended, Chester was just finishing his meal. Perfect timing. He clicked the remote and turned off the idiot box. Then he cleaned up his dinner and went back to the computer. That should be enough time for the girl to accept his request. Kids these days never left their devices out of reach. Heather definitely hadn't.

  He typed in the password for the screensaver—not that he needed it now. He lived alone. His family couldn't snoop on him anymore. They'd learned their lesson.

  Eight new notifications. His pulse pounded in his ears as he checked. But none of them was from her. He clicked over to her profile and studied what she had posted publicly. Those stupid typical selfies that kids were always taking. Funny pictures and sayings.

  Chester studied those. He needed to get to know her humor. That would help once they started talking.

  There weren't a lot of interactions between the new Heather and her friends. At least that he could see. That would help him to understand her better, too.

  He took a deep breath and opened a message to send her. If he wanted to be convincing, he would need to use that annoying, mindless chat speak. At least he'd had practice while building up his online profile. Tyler Johnson. He'd used the picture of a basketball player.

  Hey. Wassup?

  Chester waited. She hadn't even looked at the message. He opened a new tab and scanned her profile. Then he went back to the message tab.

  Wanna chat?

  Nothing. He frowned. What was he doing wrong? He hovered over her picture and realized they had no mutual friends. She was probably smart. He'd always told his Heather to stay away from guys she didn't know online. Maybe this girl actually listened to her parents.

  Did kids actually still do that?

  He went to her friends list and sent requests to everyone who looked her age. Most of them accepted right away. Fools. Before long, he and Macy had over a hundred mutual friends.

  I'm bored. What u doing?

  Again, nothing. She wasn't even opening the chat window. He waited and sent her a new message every few minutes. She was posting things to her profile, so she was logged in. Just ignoring him.

  That wouldn't last long.

  He kept the profile up and opened a new browser so he could create a new login. She didn't like this one. Fine.

  Chester searched for "cute boys" and clicked images. Hundreds of goofy selfies stared at him. He needed to narrow the search. He added "teenage" to the search. He found one on a beach showing of his pecks. If the new Heather didn't like basketball players, maybe she was more into beach bums.

  In less than a half hour, he had a new profile set up. Parker Lawrence was born, and with over five hundred mutual friends with Macy Mercer. He found Tyler's profile and friended himself, and then he added all of Tyler's friends.

  Now Parker was a legitimate person. He only needed a bunch of stuff on his profile. Chester went over to Macy's profile and posted similar images to the ones she had. He clicked on the online quizzes and took them, making sure to post his answers publicly.

  This was sure to be a win. It was all for her. Each post set with care. Things that she would like.

  One thing remained. He needed to decide whether to send a message or friend request first. Sending the reque
st first hadn't worked before. He opened up a message screen.

  Wanna b friends? We know lots of the same ppl.

  Ur friends with Tyler. Stop messing with me. Blocking u both.

  Chester closed his eyes. He wanted to punch something, but that wouldn't do any good. Besides, he was getting closer. She'd actually responded to Parker. Maybe the next one would be his golden ticket.

  He opened yet another browser and worked on another profile. This one wouldn't contact Macy for a few days. Give her a chance to calm down. That way she wouldn't think the next one had anything to do with his failed attempts.

  It was getting late, but he didn't want to go to bed until he had the winning profile set up. He'd spend the next few days posting and adding friends. He searched for images of cute teen boys again. This time, he closed his eyes and pressed his finger on a random point on the screen.

  Chester opened his eyes and saw a friendly-looking kid. He seemed more studious than the others. More like her. He clicked the image and more pictures of the kid showed. Perfect. That would make the profile even more believable. He downloaded all the pictures to his computer and then uploaded them onto Jared's profile page.

  He created photo albums and took some more quizzes, answering like he pictured a bookworm would answer. Chester's eyes grew heavy. He would have to wait to complete the profile until tomorrow. Time was on his side, anyway. As hard as it would be, he would wait three days before friending or messaging the new Heather.

  The time would be spent watching her online. Studying her. Learning everything he could first. That was where he'd gone wrong with the other profiles. If he could figure out where she lived, he would even watch her home. Or maybe her school. That would be easier to find. He could figure that out easy enough. Even if it meant chatting up her friends.

  Chester turned off the computer and went to bed with a smile on his face.

  Soon, he would have Heather back.

  Desperate

  Chapter One

  Macy Mercer held in the tears. Only a few more blocks before her stop. Then she could run off the bus and get away from these horrible people for a long weekend.

  "You want me to say something?" Zoey asked. Her eyes narrowed while she twirled some of her jet black hair around a finger.

  Macy shook her head. With the tears threatening, she didn't dare speak.

  "They're just jerks."

  Then why have you been hanging out with them? Macy wanted to ask. Her best friend had been spending less time with her lately, but she was afraid of saying anything and losing her. She couldn't blame Zoey. Macy wasn't allowed to do anything, and she couldn't expect Zoey to stay home, too.

  Finally, the bus brakes squealed to a stop. Macy swung her bag over her shoulder, took a deep breath, and rose from the smelly seat. Zoey stood with her.

  "Muffin Top Macy!" someone shouted.

  She pretended not to hear. Sometimes that worked. Not usually. She kept her attention focused on the front of the school bus. Only about twenty feet to freedom.

  "Muffin top!" shouted someone else.

  "Ignore them," Zoey whispered.

  "That's what I'm doing."

  A balled up piece of paper hit Macy in the side of her head. Laughter erupted all around.

  "You're not still friends with the fatty, are you, Zo?"

  "Muffin Top Macy!"

  "Fatty!"

  "Have you ever thought about exercising?"

  Macy tripped over something, barely catching herself before falling. She glanced back to see someone's foot sticking out into the aisle. More laughter.

  They finally reached the steps. Macy grabbed Zoey's arm and yanked her down with her before she could say anything. As she pulled her outside, Macy got a whiff of cigarette smoke from Zoey's clothes.

  Her heart sank. It was only a matter of time before she and her best friend parted ways. Their lives were going in two completely different directions. Not that Macy could blame her—who would want to be known as best friend of Muffin Top Macy?

  "Those guys are such idiots," Zoey fumed.

  Macy shrugged. "Want to sleep over tonight?"

  Zoey's eyes widened. She frowned.

  "Never mind. I get it." Macy headed for her house, stopping in the yard.

  "Wait." Zoey caught up to her. "I just made some plans with a couple friends. Can I spend the night tomorrow? Or you can come over to my place. At least my mom doesn't watch us like hawks."

  Macy sighed. She felt even lower. Now she was Zoey's second choice. She wasn't going to win the fight against her tears.

  "I have all afternoon," Zoey said. "Let's do something fun before it gets dark. Want to make ice cream sundaes?"

  "Why? So I can get fatter?" The tears blurred her vision.

  "Macy, that's not what I meant. It's because we've been making them since preschool.

  "I know. I'm vegan now, remember? No ice cream."

  Zoey sat on the bottom step and patted it next to her.

  Macy stood, refusing to sit.

  "Is it helping you lose weight?" Zoey asked.

  "I've lost fifteen pounds, not that anyone's noticed."

  Zoey frowned. "I did. Remember? I just meant, have you lost more?"

  "You also helped me buy some new clothes. But it doesn't matter. No one will ever see me differently. My muffin top's gone. Not that anyone cares." She pressed her shirt against her waist.

  "I guess it'll just take time. If you can just start coming to the parties, people would see you as cooler."

  "You know I can't."

  "Spend the night at my place and go with me."

  Macy shook her head. "Your mom knows I'm not allowed to go to those. She'd never go behind my parents' back and let me go with you."

  "Then sneak out. It's your only option if you want a life before you turn sixteen. A year is way too long to wait."

  Macy dropped her bag on the grass and sat next to Zoey. "A year and two months. And yeah, my social status will be permanently sealed by then. No hope of turning around."

  Zoey's eyes lit up. "I have an idea."

  "I can't sneak out."

  "No. Let's take some pictures and post them on your profile. Show off your figure. Make them all feel stupid for still calling you that name."

  "What am I supposed to wear?" she asked. She didn't have any revealing clothes. No way her parents would ever let her wear anything like that. Especially not her dad. Well, mostly her dad. She'd heard her parents fighting about Macy lately. Her mom was more on her side than her dad, but when it came down to it, he won. And he would never stop seeing her as his little girl.

  Macy realized Zoey was talking. "Slow down. What did you just say?"

  "It's perfect! Grab your bag. Come on."

  "Well…" Macy had no idea what she was getting herself into. But her mom's car was gone, so that meant she had some time.

  Zoey ran down the walkway. Macy grabbed her backpack and chased after her, following her to Zoey's house.

  "Want a snack?" Zoey asked. "I'm sure we have something vegan."

  Macy's stomach rumbled from skipping lunch. She'd hidden in a bathroom stall to get away from the name-calling. "I'm not hungry," she lied.

  "Me, neither." They both dropped their bags in the entryway and ran upstairs to Zoey's room. Zoey put on some music with a lot of bass. She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and stuffed it in a drawer. Macy pretended not to see, picking up some of Zoey's makeup.

  "Good," Zoey said. "You got the right idea. Want me to put on the makeup for you? I can give you some super-sexy smoky eyes?"

  "They'll never look like yours."

  Zoey was half-Japanese, and Macy had always been jealous of her gorgeous eyes. Zoey had never met her dad, who lived in Japan, but she'd definitely inherited his eyes.

  "Of course not, but with a little eyeliner and color, your eyes are gonna pop. Sit."

  Macy took a seat at the vanity and Zoey got to work. It was hard to sit still with a pencil so close to her eyeball, b
ut Macy managed.

  Maybe, just maybe, some sexy pictures on Instagram or Facebook would help the kids at school see her differently. It was her only chance, really. Her mom would never let her out of the house looking the way Zoey was going to have her when she was done.

  As Zoey went, she chatted excitedly about how great Macy was going to look. This was going to be a game-changer if half of what Zoey said was true. Macy's heart raced.

  Finally, Zoey stepped back. "A masterpiece!"

  Macy turned to look.

  "No peeking." Zoey grabbed her shoulders and turned her back around. "Now let's fix this hair."

  "What's wrong with my hair?"

  "Nothing. You have a lot to work with."

  Which meant she hadn't been making it work on her own.

  Zoey reached around her and turned on her flat iron and curling iron. Then she grabbed a brush and moved Macy's part to the side. She kept brushing, but Macy couldn't tell what she was doing. Soon, she pulled out the flat iron and gave Macy some fake side bangs, clipping the long part to the side. Then she curled the ends.

  "Can I look yet?" Macy asked. She was starting to feel like a new person. Older. Pretty. Sophisticated.

  "Not yet." Zoey put the brush down and went to her closet. "No peeking."

  Macy's pulse pounded in her ears. Zoey had a lot of clothes that didn't meet the school's dress code. She tried to imagine what she would have her wear. Probably nothing her parents would approve of. Hopefully she could keep the pictures online long enough for the kids to see before Macy was forced to take them down.

  Zoey pulled out a pile of clothes.

  "What's this?" Macy asked. "A fashion show?"

  "Yep. And we're going to start with this baby." Zoey held up a short, clingy green dress.

  Macy's heart nearly pounded out of her chest. Her parents would kill her. She would never get to go out again until she graduated. But if it got the kids at school to stop making fun of her, it would be worth it.

  "Let me help you. You can't mess up your hair or face. 'Kay?"