Free The Rules for Disappearing by Unknown Page A

either but if we’re from Arkansas we
    probably should have some sort of clue. I nudge Teeny. “You know what that is.” And then I give her the look.
    S—
    A dark red–headed girl sits down on the other side of Ethan.
    N—
    I recognize her from school, the only one who didn’t laugh when I 64
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    freaked out the first day in homeroom when the intercom came on.
    She looks at Ethan and says, “Hey. Everyone’s about ready.”
    Then turns to me. “I’m Catherine. We haven’t met yet.”
    I nod and lift my hand in a small wave.
    Ethan points at me and Teeny. “This is Meg and her sister
    Mary. They moved here from Arkansas.”
    “Nice to meet you. Y’all want to come with us to Gus’s?”
    I want to go with them. So bad. There’s a group waiting off to the side and it looks like they’d take me in without hesitation but I can’t do it. I’m still raw from the nightmare last night and faces of all the friends I’ve left behind parade through my mind.
    I glance at Teeny and I can tell she would go if I wanted to.
    “We can’t. We’ve got to get back home, but thanks for asking.”
    Catherine smiles and says, “Maybe next time.” She hops up
    from the ground and sprints off toward the others.
    Ethan is a little slower to leave. “Sure I can’t talk you into it?”
    God, if he knew the restraint I was using. “No. We really can’t.”
    I watch him head back to his friends.
    “Why didn’t you want to go?” Teeny asks.
    “I did but it makes things complicated and I’m tired of things being complicated.”
    “Me, too,” Teeny says, and then leans into me.
    It’s not long before they’re piling in Jeeps and trucks and heading away from the river. Ethan looks back once but it’s just a quick glimpse. We’re left watching the small children and middle school kids.
    —S
    —N
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    RULES FOR DISAPPEARING
    BY WITNESS PROTECTION PRISONER #18A7R04M:
    When the suits tell you not to use the Internet, you should real y listen to them.
    Ihate being the “nobody” at school. Everything in me goes against it. I want to buy products and make this boy haircut cute. Hit the Mac counter and load up on all the goodies I use to have at home.
    Wear Seven jeans and North Face jackets. I want my little white BMW with leather seats and manual transmission that all the guys were impressed I could drive as well as any of them. Every poster in the hall makes me want to join their club. I want to be excited about the upcoming Mardi Gras Ball and stress over finding the perfect slinky dress.
    Health class is the hardest hour to get through. Ethan’s here
    and the way he watches me is alarming. I’m afraid he’s either one step from calling bullshit on my whole existence or asking me out on a date. Neither good. I can feel the curiosity and interest coming off of him in waves. Ben’s here, too. The hostility between him and Ethan is solid. And then there’s Emma, giving me the stink eye S—
    every time she passes my desk. I know her type. If I just keep my N—
    mouth shut when she starts crap with me, this would all die down.
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    She’d get bored and move on to someone else. Problem is—I can’t seem to ignore her. So let the fun begin.
    The class fills up just as the bell rings, and Ben and Emma walk in together. The teacher doesn’t even look in their direction. Ben nods and says “Hey” as he walks by while Emma rolls her eyes and mutters, “Loser.”
    This is the weirdest class I’ve ever had. In the week I’ve been here, we’ve only had class in the classroom once. We’ve been to the library, the gym twice, and outside on the front lawn.
    Mr. Knighton steps up from his desk and holds a fish bowl filled with little pieces of crumpled up paper. Behind