I turn onHarry and the Hendersons—a feel-good movie about a cryptid who isn’t a murdering, ravenous monster. I vaguely recall a fevered dream about theNachtdier. A weeping boy and two girls and Rafe, turning into a werewolf.
Outside, a chainsaw buzzes in the distance.
The sky is soft, the shadows long.
And Jude Vandenberg gave me his number.
Biting my lip, I type a hasty message into my phone and hit send.
Hi. It’s Selah. Twig gave me your number. Sorry I’ve been AWOL. Sick as a dog.
I stare at the screen, expecting nothing. If Jude replies at all, it will probably be later this evening, or sometime tomorrow. But a scrolling ellipse appears.
I sit up straight.
Jude: Hey. Sorry you’ve been sick.
I stare at the words, unsure how to reply. Normally, I’d pride myself in sending something smart and quippy, but my brain is full of fog. I think I should suggest we visit Maggie, as previously planned, but then … what if he already met with Maggie? It’s not like he needs me to make introductions.
The scrolling ellipse returns.
Jude: Will you be at school tomorrow?
I can’t fathom it. Untwisting the Gatorade bottle was hard enough. Walkingthrough the halls with a backpack? No way. But I’m tempted all the same. Simply because he asked.
Me: Unlikely. But I am feeling more human. Good enough to meet at Evermore after school, if you’re up for it.
I hit send with a grimace, dreading his response. I’m sure he already went to Evermore without me. Or maybe he wants to drop the string again.
Jude: Can I call you?
My heart takes off, an aggressive hammer inside my chest.
Me: Sure
A moment later, the X-Files theme song fills my bedroom, giving me zero time to prepare. I accept the call and say hello, hoping I don’t sound as out of sorts as I feel.
“Hey,” he says, his voice soft in my ear. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
I’m thrown for a loop. Not by his words so much as his tone—gentle, and concerned. Like Jude Vandenberg has been worried. Aboutme. “Me, too. I had some pretty gnarly dreams while I was in the thick of it.”
“About haunted dolls?”
“No, but there was a cryptid. And I punched Rafe in the face.”
A short pause ensues.
I close my eyes and tap my forehead with my fist.
Stupid, stupid Selah. Why did you bring him into the conversation?
But Jude only chuckles. “I would have enjoyed seeing that.”
And just like that, all my anxiety melts away.
I bite back a smile.
Jude is different on the phone.
