Free The Lance Temptation by Brenda Maxfield

block Farah from my mind. Where could she possibly have gone? Did her mom call the police? I remembered Farah talking about an aunt in California. Would she have gone to see her? But how would she have gotten there? Mrs. Menins said there were no relatives so maybe it wasn’t an aunt after all. Did Pete know where she was? And if he did, why wasn’t he saying anything? Would anyone be so mean?
    Stupidly, my mind circled back to Lance. I couldn’t figure him out. I tried to forget how indifferent he’d been, but I couldn’t shake it. Him acting like he hated me one minute, then claiming to be my steady the next — it was bizarre. Maybe his being upset about Farah could explain his meanness. I knew they were friends, or were they more? A sharp ache pricked my stomach.
    No, I wouldn’t go there.
    Farah had spoken about doing something. What was it? Did it have something to do with me? With Lance? Pete? Why was I churning on and on?
    Me being miserable didn’t help anybody. Farah was the important one.
    Yet my thoughts swirled all night. By morning, I felt like I’d been dragged through a field behind a tractor. Mom was making toast in the kitchen when I went in.
    â€œAny word?” I asked.
    â€œNothing. I’m sorry, honey.”
    â€œDon’t you think Mrs. Menins would’ve called if she heard anything?”
    Mom shrugged and pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’d think so, but I don’t know the woman. Let’s assume Farah’s safe and sound at home, shall we? I bet she’ll be at school today like normal.”
    I walked over to Mom and leaned into her. She put her arms around me, and I laid my head on her shoulder like I used to when I was little. Even at sixteen, it made me feel better.
    â€œThanks, Mom. But I can’t stop thinking about her.” I gave Mom a hard squeeze, and she released me. I grabbed my backpack. “I’m gonna go to school early. I can’t sit around here waiting for another thirty minutes. I don’t understand why Farah hasn’t texted me. She would’ve, you know.”
    â€œGo on to school, then,” Mom said. “I suppose you can’t call me when you find something out.”
    â€œNot supposed to, but I could sneak and call you.”
    â€œI don’t want you getting into trouble. You could call from the office, though, if you needed to.”
    Translation: If you find out Farah’s bee n murdered, please let me know.
    â€œI will.”
    Sarah wandered into the kitchen and picked up a piece of toast. “Heard from Farah?”
    â€œNo, none of us have.” I grabbed my jacket off the rack and headed for the door.
    â€œYou going already?” she asked, taking a big bite, and smearing jelly on her cheek.
    â€œYeah, I can’t sit around another minute.”
    â€œSorry,” Sarah said, wiping at her face with a wadded up napkin. “I hope she’s okay.”
    I turned back to her. “I know you do, Sarah. Thanks.”
    ****
    The cold air jolted through me. I flipped up the collar of my jacket to try to block the wind. Goose bumps formed on my bare legs. Why was I still wearing this skirt to school? I should’ve changed to my uniform pants a month ago. I shoved my hands in my pockets. Gloves would have been a good idea, too.
    The school courtyard was deserted. Teachers were trickling in, and I could see the surprise on their faces when they saw me there so early.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” Mrs. Binder asked, in her grating baby-bird chirp.
    I hesitated, not sure how much the teachers knew about Farah’s situation, if anything. “I had some homework to catch up on.”
    â€œYou’re going to get mighty cold waiting outside for the bell,” she continued. “Students can’t come in for another fifteen minutes.”
    â€œIt’s okay, I’m not cold,” I lied.
    â€œI suppose I could sneak you in. I’m