Free The Leaving by Tara Altebrando

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    “Seriously, though. A book,” Steve said. “Promise us you’ll think about it?”

Lucas
    Lucas half expected a flock of birds or bats to fly out of the RV, but it was eerily quiet.
    Dead still.
    He followed his brother into the dim compartment, swatting at thick spiderwebs. Ryan turned on a lamp that flooded the room with golden light. There were Post-its and articles on every wall and cabinet door; even the windows were mostly covered.
    A large whiteboard blocked one window, with crazy notes scrawled in black marker.
    Lucas saw his own name—the first box of six, in the top left corner—and read,
ONE WEEK BEFORE IT HAPPENED, LUCAS SAID THEY WERE BEING FOLLOWED BY A MAN CARRYING WRAPPING PAPER.
    He turned to Ryan. “What is this man-with-wrapping-paper thing all about?”
    Ryan came to his side and stared at the whiteboard while he spoke. “We were walking home from my baseball game. And you kept stoppingand turning around and then walking and stopping and turning around, and it was driving me crazy because I just wanted to get home and tell Dad about my two hits, and I finally asked you why you were stopping, and I guess I was mean-sounding and you said, ‘No reason.’ But then a few minutes later, you said, ‘It’s just that there’s a man following us.’”
    Ryan paused then, took a breath, shook his head.
    “I told you that you were being ridiculous. And you said that he was carrying something that looked like wrapping paper, and I said something like, ‘Oooh, the scary man is going to wrap us and take us to a party,’ and that was the end of it . . . until a week later, when you disappeared.
    “I told the police about it, and they interviewed some of the guys on the team, and people said they remembered seeing this guy with wrapping paper hanging around the ball field. But of course they never found the guy. There were a few attempts at police sketches, but none of them looked anything alike and they started to think that the guys didn’t really remember seeing the guy, just wanted to be a part of something and be helpful.
    “Anyway.” Ryan looked like he’d aged two years telling the story. “If I hadn’t been in such a hurry, maybe I would have seen the guy and everything would have been different.”
    “Maybe.” Lucas felt his whole body un-tense now that he knew. “Maybe he was just a guy. With wrapping paper.”
    “Something that looks like wrapping paper is what you said.”
    “What looks like wrapping paper?” Lucas asked.
    “ You’re the one who saw it.” Ryan shrugged. His phone buzzed and he pulled it out. “I’m supposed to meet Miranda.”
    “What’s the situation with you two, anyway?” Lucas lifted a pile of newspaper clippings, started to sift.
    “The situation ?”
    “How’d you meet? How long have you been together? Is it serious? Does she live here?”
    “What are we, girlfriends now?”
    “All right, whatever. Don’t tell me.” Lucas headed toward the bedroom section to see what was there.
    “Hold up,” Ryan said. “Sorry. I’m just not much of a, you know, talker. About stuff like that.”
    Ryan sat down at the small kitchen table. Lucas came back and sat across from him. Their knees hit. The table was barely visible under piles of magazines and notes.
    “She came into work one night about a month ago.”
    “You have a job?”
    “Part-time valet at the Tiki Tower.”
    “That crazy-looking hotel?”
    Ryan nodded. “I parked her car. We flirted. She was still at the bar with her friends when I got off, so we hung out and that was pretty much it. Dad was getting sick of her hanging around, I think. But she has roommates she can’t stand, so we never go there.”
    Lucas tried to picture his brother wearing a lei, exchanging pleasantries with strangers. It was not an easy scene to imagine. “Shouldn’t you be in college?”
    “I am. Also part-time,” Ryan said.
    “Her, too?” It dawned on Lucas that he might actually have to go to . . . high