Cipher

Her first instinct was to argue that she wasn’t doing nothing. She bit it back, trying to focus on what would help Ashlyn. “I just think she’ll trust me the more I get to know her. Then I’ll be able to do a better job figuring out how to help her.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but you’ve got to put a rush on it. I’m not sure what else to tell you. You should be a natural at this. I’m not used to working with someone who doesn’t—” Her head jerked up. “Your dad’s coming. I’ll try to check in again soon. But please, get moving on this.”

There was a knock on the door—Dad, apparently.

Summer waved her hand though the glittery outline Gabriella left, trying to disperse it. She wasn’t sure if Dad would be able to see it, but just in case, she thought it’d be easier to make sure it was gone than try to explain. When it finished fading, she raised her voice. “Come on in.”

Dad stepped inside and looked around. “It sounded like you were talking to someone.”

“I was on the phone.”

“Funny, because you left this in the key bowl.” Dad held up her cell phone. “It kept ringing, so I decided it might be important. You know, Kendall might’ve broken a nail or something.”

Summer bit her lip as Dad’s eyes bored into her. “I talk to myself sometimes. I didn’t want to say that because it makes me feel like a crazy person.”

Dad nodded his head and gave her a weak smile. “I talk to her too sometimes.”

Dad knows about Gabriella? “You do?”

“Sure. I miss your mom as much as you do. If I talk aloud, it sometimes feels like she’s listening.”

A giant lump formed in Summer’s throat. Ever since Tiffany had entered the picture, she’d decided Dad didn’t miss Mom as much as he should. Now, she felt like she didn’t miss her as much as she should. “You think she knows what we’re doing? That we miss her?”

Dad crossed the room and sat next to her, right where Gabriella was only moments ago. “I’m sure she does.”

Summer wondered what Mom thought about everything. How superficial she’d become since moving here, how she’d shut everything out, losing the independent person she used to pride herself on being in the process. And what did Mom think about Summer’s new job?

Dad patted Summer’s knee, and she suddenly wanted to tell him everything. She knew he’d have good advice to help her out with her Cipher job. But she couldn’t think of a way to tell him about it without disclosing her darkest secret. Without telling him she didn’t try hard enough to keep Mom alive.

Chapter Twelve

“Is something wrong?” Troy asked her as he pulled in front of Off the Record. “You’ve hardly said a word.” After chemistry class, he’d asked Summer if she wanted to go with him after school to get the new Monkey Saddle vinyl he’d ordered. He’d promised her fries across the street afterward, too, as if she’d needed any more motivation that flipping through old records with him. What she hadn’t expected, though, was the icky sensation she’d have in her gut by the time school let out. Or the desperation she’d feel after wracking her brain all day for a way to help Ash and still ending up with a whole lot of nothing.

“I’m a little tired,” she said. Not a complete lie. All the stress and worry had made it impossible to sleep last night. The truth played over and over in her head: She needed to think of some way to help Ashlyn and Pamela repair their relationship, and failure was not an option. Gabriella claimed she should be a natural, which only made the icky sensation worse. Nothing about her problem-solving job seemed natural. In fact, she kept coming up blank, then the depression would hit.

The sun hit Troy’s silver thumb ring, sending light bouncing around the car. “We don’t have to do this now. I can get the album later.”

Good thing she was an expert at forcing down her problems and acting like everything was cool. “Nonsense. We’re already here, and I’ll feel better once I get my blood pumping. Plus, you promised there would be fries.”

He smiled, easing the concern in his features. “So, so many fries.”

For the first time all day, she found herself smiling for real. Being around Troy calmed her, and she could use a lot of help in that department. She got out of the car and met Troy on the sidewalk.

The chime over the door rang as they pushed inside the record store. Summer inhaled the air that only a mix of old and new records could bring. Aisles of records filled the place, treasures she’d love to take home. Only she usually chose CD or digital versions, whereas Troy had a record player and the collection to go with it.

His album would be waiting behind the counter, but he walked to the shelves and started to flip through them. Summer stuck next to him, watching his expressions as he took in each album. He wrinkled his nose. Nodded at the next one. Pulled out an old Aerosmith album—Pump—and ran his hand across the cover, which basically looked like one truck humping another.

“Already have this one, though,” he said, more to himself she thought, then put it back.

“One of your dad’s?”

He nodded. A large part of his collection had been his dad’s, though he avoided talking about the guy for the most part. In fact, he was moving on, obviously not wanting to say anything else about the subject.

Summer drifted in the other direction. Up front they had buttons and key chains. She was definitely ready to get rid of her clunky one. As she spun through the rack, though, her thoughts drifted back to Ashlyn. Days ago she’d been laughing and hanging out with Ashlyn, thinking how awesome it was to find someone who got her. Ashlyn didn’t care when she went off on random tangents. She seemed to like her sarcasm and weird jokes. In fact, she added to them. Laughed along with her.

I’ve never clicked with anyone like I’ve clicked with her. Her heart was folding in on itself again, the ickiness spreading throughout her insides once more.

There had to be a way around it. A way to make up for the lives she couldn’t save. She was sure if she concocted a good enough plan, she could find a way to change the future. To keep Ash alive.

“How about that one?” Troy asked.

Summer hadn’t even heard him come over. She followed his finger and saw him pointing to a keychain that said, I’m not crazy. ask my invisible friend. He reached down and picked up another. cute but psycho, kind of evens things out.

The first one seemed like a joke, but now worry was taking hold. Had other people noticed she was starting to lose it? “Why would you suggest those?”

“Well, this one because you’re cute, and this one because you’re a little crazy.” Troy nudged her. “Come on, it’s a joke.”

Right. If it was a joke it might be funny. “I think I’ll just keep the one I have. Or take it off. I don’t really need a keychain. It’s not like I can’t find my keys as long as I have the canister of mace attached to them.”

The urge to get out of the store overwhelmed her. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be in here anymore.”

“One sec. Gotta buy my stuff first.”

Summer twisted a strand around her hair as she waited, shifting her wait from one foot to another. Troy was laughing with the cashier, in no hurry whatsoever. Summer kept glancing at the door. Her pulse was picking up speed. She needed out of here. Now.

She started for the door.

Troy caught up to her as she was pushing out of it. “I should’ve known you had a time limit before the need for fries caught up to you.”

As they stepped onto the sidewalk, Summer bumped into a man who’d been walking the other direction.

The man’s head drops down. Pops back up. His eyes droop again, and his head dips further down. The car veers right, narrowly missing another car. Slams into the concrete, the metal peeling away from the barrier. His head hits the steering wheel, his right side—arm, leg—lost in a sea of metal. He takes a few gasping breaths for air, wheezing and coughing. His last breath slips past his bloody lips.

Summer’s vision cleared and she stared up at the man. “If you’re tired, you should drink a Redbull or