Page 10 of The Obsession

“What?”

She pitched her voice high and squeaked, “‘Ooh, which part of China is that in?’”

I laughed. “No way. People here aren’t that ignorant. I mean, really? Singapore’s obviously in Vietnam.”

She narrowed her eyes at me.

“I’m kidding! It’s right below Malaysia and next to Indonesia.” I was a good boy, I’d done my homework. I could talk about Singapore for hours.

She laughed again—I could listen to you laugh for days—and lightly slapped me on my arm. My skin tingled where her fingers touched me, and if I were twelve years old, I’d swear not to wash my arm forever.She wants me.She wouldn’t slap just anyone’s arm.

“So what are you getting at the store?” I asked.

As it turned out, I’d asked the wrong question. The walls were back up. Delilah frowned and stared straight ahead. “Ice.”

There was a pause, then I said, “What do you need it for?”

“It’s just—for my mom’s boyfriend.”

Ah, yes. The ignoble Detective Brandon Jackson. I knew about Detective Jackson, and not just from my research on Delilah. A year ago, right around the time Sophie died, Detective Jackson and his partner had been put on a case at Draycott. They’d hung around the school for weeks, like a persistent and embarrassing rash. Detective Jackson was loud, obnoxious, and assumed everybody admired him, which of course turned the entire student body against him. I’d thought of him as a big, stupid, but well-meaning dog, not unlike Daddy, but Delilah did something when she mentioned him—she dropped her voice and gave a small, grim smile, as though she were afraid that mentioning him might summon him to our side.

“What does he need the ice for?” I asked.

“Um—you know. Just…stuff.”

Something was off. Something that felt big, lurking underneath us the way a giant sea creature did, writhing right below the calm surface before bursting out of the water with its jaws open. I knew fear when I saw it. Even Daddy could sense it; he lifted his head and licked her hand, whining.

“Everything okay?” I frowned in concern.

Delilah turned away, but not before I caught her cheeks turning red. “Yeah, of course.”

“That’s not what Daddy says.”

That coaxed a smile out of her, but she still looked tired, defeated. All the joy she’d shown moments ago had evaporated.

“Well, Daddy’s wrong,” she said.

I frowned at Daddy. “Are you losing your touch with the ladies, Daddy?”

The corners of Delilah’s mouth lifted. “I don’t think Daddy’s as good with the ladies as he wants you to think,” she said.

“Ouch.”

Delilah laughed—a quick, nervous sound that was strangled almost as soon as it left her mouth. My grip on Daddy’s leash tightened. I’d assumed, when I went through Delilah’s pictures, that she’d curled into a tight, hard shell because the oil rig incident might have turned her and her mom into easy targets for the press. I never spared a thought for the possibility that her shyness was caused by something completely different. I imagined my fists crunching into Detective Jackson’s meaty face and found the thought a pleasant one.

I had to take her mind off Detective Jackson. “So, how’re you liking Draycott?” Pretty weak question to ask, given she’d been there for weeks, but I was running out of things to say.

“It’s okay. I never thought I’d go someplace like Draycott.” She hugged herself as she walked, her hands gripping her elbows. It made her look even thinner than she already was. “Sorry, I just—I kinda suck at conversations.”

“You’re better at it than you think you are.”

She snorted.

“Of course,” I added, “I’m only comparing you to Daddy, so the standards aren’t exactly high.”

Another quick laugh that was strangled as soon as it left her mouth. Another flash of my fists slamming into Detective Jackson’s face.What’s he done to her?Delilah was reminding me of Sophie in the worst possible way. Those final weeks before they found the drugs in Sophie’s room, she’d behaved the same way—furtive glances, conversations weighed down with fear. I wasn’t able to save Sophie. Hell if I was going to let the same thing happen to Delilah.

I stopped walking and touched her arm lightly, ignoring the zap, the spark, the whatever it was that told me our bodies were made for each other. I didn’t let my hand stay on her arm. “Hey—um—I know this is out of the blue and we barely know each other, but if you need help, if you need anything at all, please tell me, okay?”

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