Free Modern Monsters (Entangled Teen) by Kelley York Page A

tell her about the DNA results. She didn’t answer. She didn’t call me back.
    Indifference: lack of interest, concern, or sympathy. Unimportance.
    What is it they say? The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.
    I wonder if Craig Something-or-Other has shown up there. If he’s snapped pictures of “the rapist’s mom” while she fled from her car to the house. If he asked her questions…if she answered them.
    After school, I’m not feeling up to waiting around while Brett is at tennis practice. I would walk home, except I’m worried of what might be waiting there for me. An angry mother? A prying reporter? Instead I’ll head to Brett’s car and do some homework or play on my phone.
    I haven’t even reached two steps into the parking lot when an old blue sedan pulls up alongside me and the tinted window rolls down to reveal Autumn behind the steering wheel. I remember her threat about plowing me down with her car and go still, staring at her.
    She says, “Get in.”
    “If I s-say no, are two g-guys in suits and sunglasses going to get out and m-make me?”
    Autumn actually smirks. “No, just me. Come on.”
    This is all sorts of a bad idea, and yet I find myself circling around to the passenger’s side door, opening it, getting in, and dropping my bag to the floorboard. Autumn waits for me to buckle up before driving off.
    “W-where are we going?”
    She keeps her eyes glued to the road. “Shut up and you’ll find out.”
    I run my hands over my knees, swallowing past a dry throat. “I got into the c-car with you; the least you can do is t-tell me where you’re taking me.”
    Autumn purses her lips. “And I appreciate your cooperation, but I’m not telling you anything. So either watch and see, or jump out at the next stoplight.”
    “I’ll h-have you know that no one will pay my ransom if this is a k-kidnapping,” I try to joke. Autumn’s mouth actually twitches a little at the corners, like she’s trying not to smile, but she doesn’t reply.
    You know, if she wanted to tie rocks to my ankles and throw me in the river, no one would even notice I was gone for at least twenty-four hours. More than enough time for her to drive to Mexico.
    But Autumn doesn’t take me to the river. She drives to a little town house complex where she parks in a spot assigned number forty-two and twists in her seat to look at me. “You tell anyone about this and you’re dead. You got it?”
    “Uh…o-okay. Where are we?”
    “My house.” Autumn gets out of the car and I follow suit, leaving my backpack behind. She lets us inside where we walk through a modestly furnished living room and upstairs to what has to be her bedroom. Autumn insists I go in first. I have no problem being invited into Autumn Dixon’s room, but this isn’t under the conditions I would have hoped for.
    When I step inside, the first thing I see is Callie Wheeler sitting on the bed.
    Immediately I freeze and try to back up. Autumn shuts the door and leans against it, effectively cornering me, preventing me from fleeing shy of throwing her aside or something. My heart leaps into my throat and I look from Callie to Autumn and back again. “W-w-what—”
    Callie rises from the bed, holding out her hands. “Calm down, I promise this isn’t anything bad.”
    “Well, my dad does have a chain saw in the patio storage,” Autumn drawls. When neither of us laughs, she rolls her eyes. “Oh-kay, well, I’ll be downstairs. You sure you’re all right?”
    She clearly isn’t talking to me. Callie smiles a little and nods. Autumn slips out of the room and I find my feet itching to chase after her and demand to be taken home. “If th-they find out I’m here and there’s still a temporary restraining order…”
    Callie silences me with a raised hand again. “I’m really sorry we had to trick you here, Vic. I knew you wouldn’t show up if she told you what was going on.”
    Got that right. I stare at her, wordless. Is this some kind