Free Lurker by Stefan Petrucha Page B

shiny black side looked like a sharp edge rather than just a glimmer of light. Had the contrast of the picture changed somehow? That couldn’t be. She’d looked at the picture a dozen times, but she hadn’t done anything to manipulate the image. Maybe it was the way her desk lamp reflected off the screen that made it look wrong. It had to be something like that. Pictures didn’t just change on their own.
    Â 
    Thursday was a day of surprises.
    After school, Laurel and Drew came back to Mandy’s place to hang out. Both were curious about this Kyle guy she kept talking about, so they followed her upstairs to her room and waited for her computer to boot up. When the picture opened, both of her friends pushed in close to look at the screen.
    â€œYeah,” Laurel said, “he’s got some major yummy going on.”
    â€œGod, he’s so cute,” Drew said, already drifting into a romantic haze. “It’s totally fate. I mean, if you hadn’t broken up with Dale, and if Nicki hadn’t been killed, you two might never have met.”
    â€œYeah,” Laurel said, “more kids should get sliced up so we can all get dates.”
    Drew’s face fell, her dreamy voice quieting. “I just meant, it’s great that something nice came out of something so bad. Jeez, Laurel.”
    â€œI’m just playin’,” Laurel said, reaching out to pat Drew’s knee. “It’s all good.”
    Mandy smiled, pleased that her friends approved. She leaned back in the chair so they could get a better look and both slid a little closer to the monitor, gawking at the screen.
    â€œI can’t believe I was there when you met,” Drew said.
    â€œWe haven’t met.”
    â€œYou know what I mean.”
    â€œHey,” Laurel said, “I thought you said he was our age.”
    â€œHe is,” Mandy replied. “He’s seventeen.”
    â€œYou sure? Boy looks like he’s already got a couple of years of frat parties behind him.”
    â€œHe does look older,” Drew agreed. “Like my brother’s age or something.”
    Mandy leaned forward and looked closely at the picture. The shadows on Kyle’s cheeks seemed more pronounced, even more than they had the night before. Another shadow, one she hadn’t noticed the night before or any other time she’d looked at the picture, lay across his brow, disappearing into the bigger shadow cast by his saluting palm. When she pulled away from the details of the pic, she had to admit Laurel and Drew were right; he did look older.
    â€œOnce,” Laurel said, “I met a guy online, and he was looking all fine and boylicious. So we meet up, right? He’s got this big old nasty mole on his cheek, and I’m all ‘Where the hell did that comefrom?’ I figured he Photoshopped it out of his pic or something, because this girl doesn’t go for before-shots. A boy has got to complete Extreme Makeover before he comes callin’ on the L.”
    â€œThat was Hoyt, wasn’t it?” Drew asked.
    â€œYeah, Hoyt. So, I’m all pissed off, because I’m thinkin’ he was playin’ me. But I get home and open his picture and there it was, right there on his face as bold as you please. I just didn’t notice it before.”
    Mandy remembered this story now. They were freshmen at Lake Crest when it happened. Laurel spent the rest of the semester being mean to Hoyt, which seemed odd to Mandy since Hoyt didn’t do anything wrong.
    â€œWell, it’s just a bad pic,” Mandy said. “He shot it in like two seconds while we were chatting.”
    â€œLooks good enough to me,” Laurel said.
    â€œYeah, and you were really smart to have him do that,” Drew said. “I mean, he could have been anybody, even that scary guy that got Nicki.”
    The Witchman, Mandy thought, remembering his beaklike nose and pointed chin. For a few days, that