Payback by Francine Pascal Read Free Book Online

cut a nonstalker some slack?
    The glass door of the dorm swung open just as a stiff wind blew directly into Heather's eyes, stinging them painfully and blurring her vision. There was a tall person-blob making his way down Fifth toward her, bending into the wind with his books tucked under his arm. It had to be him. Heather couldn't see his face clearly, but she could feel it in her gut. And the butterflies surrounding her heart started to do a nervous little dance.
    It was show time.
    She tossed her hair from her shoulders. Pressed her lips together. Straightened her posture. And started to search through her purse.
    He had to see her first. That was key in the whole nonstalker plan.
    Searching. Searching. He was coming across Tenth now. Searching. But there wasn't much more to search through. He was walking. Walking. He was right there. Her heart started to pound, and the search for nothing became more frantic. He was . . . He was . . . He was passing her by.
    What?
    "Sam?"
    He stopped and turned around slowly, his whole body rigid. His face registered surprise, but the rest of him was pure discomfort.
    Good.
    "Heather," he said. He was probably expecting another fight. Or at least a reprimand for not having returned her e-mails and phone calls. He was in for a surprise.
    "Hi!" she said brightly, walking up to him and givhim a quick kiss on the cheek. His stubbly face was still warm from inside, and as mad as she was at him, part of her just wanted to cuddle into him and not let go. Instead she pulled away quickly, pleased that he looked shocked. "Where are you going?" she asked.
    It took him a moment to realize it was his turn to speak. "Library," he said. His gaze flicked over her outfit, and it was all Heather could do to keep from grinning. Now he would ask her where
she
was going, and she could say --
    "I'd better get going," he said.
    Wait. That wasn't his line.
    "Uh . . ."
    And that definitely wasn't hers.
    Sam's face creased with regret, and he shoved his free hand into his pocket. "Listen," he said, backing away slightly. "I know we have to talk, but finals are next week, and I just got slammed with all this work --"
    "I'm going to a party," Heather heard herself say. At least she thought it was her who had spoken. Her voice had come out sounding more like a plastic doll's with a voice box and a string.
    "Good," Sam said. He couldn't care less.
    What was going on here? When had she lost control of the situation? And why did it suddenly seem like all of the bundled-up passersby on the sidewalk were mocking her? Laughing at her. Telling her to wake up and see that it was all over.
    Sam was on the move again. Backing away to freedom. "Well, I really have to . . ."
    And then Heather was struck with an idea. She knew how to get his attention. And maybe hurt him the way he'd already obliviously hurt her.
    "Everyone's going to be there," she said nonchalantly. "Tim, Megan, Ed, Gaia."
    He stopped, and Heather's heart tore free from the veins and arteries that kept it alive. She hadn't counted on more hurt for her.
    "Gaia?" he said.
    Somehow Heather smiled a beautiful, perfect smile. "Yeah!" she said, now backing away herself. "Tim Racenello invited her. You should have seen how psyched she was. I don't know, but I think there may be something there. You know?" She tucked her hair behind her ear and continued to beam as if she were talking about her best friend finding true love. "Well, have fun studying."
    As if he was going to get any work done now. He was going to sit in the library, obsessing about this. Heather could tell by the stricken look on his face. Unreal. He didn't even try to hide it.
    She turned and plunged onto Fifth Avenue without even looking up at the traffic light. Part of her truly hoped a nice downtown bus would come along and flatten her. It wasn't like it could do her much more damage.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Time: 8:07 P.M.
Re: tonight
    Mary --
    Forgot to tell you