The Disappearance Of Sloane Sullivan. Gia Cribbs

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СКАЧАТЬ one I’d eaten at a thousand times. And the brown couch I saw as I followed the guys into the rec room in the basement still had the tear on the edge of the right cushion I’d made with a pair of scissors during a bet to see who could make the most paper snowflakes in five minutes.

      I peeked around the rec room. Besides the comfy brown couch, there was a coffee table, a couple of beanbag chairs facing a flat-screen TV, a bar with a mini refrigerator in one corner of the room and a Ping-Pong table that dominated the back half. A DVD collection spilled out of the entertainment center onto the floor and two different video game consoles competed for space on the entertainment center’s shelves. I could see why they hung out here.

      “Hey, Sloane!” Livie called from a fuzzy beanbag chair.

      “Hey,” I replied as I noticed the movie on TV. I raised an eyebrow at Jason. “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”

      “Sawyer brought it over. He’s got a thing for ’80s movies. We put it on in your honor, but Livie’s been skipping around to her favorite parts.”

      It was on one of my favorite parts too: where Ferris leaves Sloane at the end to make his mad dash through people’s backyards in order to beat his parents home. As movie Sloane watches him go, she says, “He’s gonna marry me.” That scene was the real reason I’d picked the name Sloane, because I’d been jealous of that Sloane’s certainty about the future, or at least her ability to even plan for the future. That’s what I wanted as Sloane.

      Livie sighed and glanced up at me. “I forgot how good this movie is.”

      I studied her as she turned back to the TV. Mark actually said yes to the senior trip. I had the chance to go somewhere by myself for two glorious days and all I needed was a roommate. I knew it wasn’t the smartest idea, but neither was standing in the middle of Jason’s house and nothing bad had happened yet. “I talked to my dad and I’m in for the senior trip.”

      Livie squealed and jumped up, spinning me around in a giant hug.

      “You’re making my dizzy!”

      Livie pulled back and clapped. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

      My plastered-on grin mirrored her own. I was definitely not used to this much girl time. Two days of freedom better be worth this. I stepped away from Livie and nodded at the plain white T-shirts and permanent markers scattered across the coffee table. “So what’s the plan for the shirts?”

      Sawyer fell into the couch with a sigh. “We have no idea. We’ve been trying to come up with something related to our double first names for weeks, but we can’t think of anything good.”

      “Just do whatever,” Livie said as she reclaimed her spot in the beanbag chair and pulled out her phone. “It’s not that big a deal.”

      As I walked behind her on my way to the couch, I caught sight of a photo Livie had open on her phone: sunset over the brightest blue water I’d ever seen. The sun was a fiery ball at the edge of the sky, turning the clouds around it amazing shades of orange and pink and purple. “That picture’s beautiful.”

      Livie glanced up. “Oh, thanks.”

      “Where is it?”

      “Um, nowhere, really. Not like this.” She tapped the screen and frowned. “I’ve been editing it, trying to make the colors really pop, but I can’t get it right.” Her eyes narrowed at something I couldn’t see. “I like to get creative with reality.”

      I sat next to Sawyer on the couch and smoothed out a T-shirt. If Livie could be creative, so could I. “What if we do something that’s not related to first names?”

      Jason pulled a beanbag chair to the edge of the coffee table and sat. “Like what?”

      I eyed Sawyer. “Superheroes.”

      His eyebrows furrowed. “Superheroes?”

      “Yeah. I mean, I got run into in the hall today because someone here supposedly has superhero muscles.”

      Livie snorted.

      Sawyer flexed his arm, which was surprisingly muscular for such a skinny guy. “There’s no supposedly about it.” He leaned closer to me. “Wanna touch it?”

      I pushed his arm away with one finger. “Why don’t you use that muscle to draw a superhero symbol?”

      Jason tapped a marker on the coffee table. His eyes locked on mine and that half smile appeared.

      Livie plopped onto the couch next to me, her phone nowhere in sight for once. “I’m totally being Black Widow.”

      “Are Superman and Supergirl a thing?” Sawyer shifted so his leg was pressed against mine. “Because that’s who we should be.”

      I leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I’m pretty sure Superman and Supergirl are cousins.”

      He chuckled. “Ooh, naughty.”

      Livie gave me an amused smile, one eyebrow slightly raised in question. My cheeks grew hot. I hadn’t been trying to flirt—just to give a smartass answer like I’d give to Mark at home—but maybe that’s how it looked. “Um, where’s the bathroom?”

      Livie pointed over her shoulder. “Down that hall, first door on your right.”

      “Don’t try the door on the left,” Sawyer warned. “It’s like the Room of Requirement or platform nine and three-quarters or something else that requires magical blood to enter.”

      I paused at the entrance to the hall, a slight smile on my lips. “Should I have brought my wand?”

      Sawyer grinned. “Nope. The Door That Must Not Be Opened is wand-proof.”

      “What if I had the special platform nine and three-quarters ticket? Could I walk through it?”

      “Even that wouldn’t work.” Sawyer snatched a marker out of Livie’s hand. “It’s J’s room, which is strictly off-limits to anyone but him.”

      I opened my mouth but Livie spoke first. “Don’t ask. Neither of us has ever been inside. It’s a weird Jason thing, like the bets.”

      I peeked at Jason, who was studying a blank T-shirt and biting the inside of his cheek. It’s not weird, it’s sweet.

      “But if you come back over here,” Sawyer drawled, “I’ll show you something that’s nine and three-quarters.”

      “Gross!” Livie smacked him on the back of his head. “That’s no way to talk to someone you just met. And physically impossible.”

      “Fine,” he grunted. “Would it be better if I said, ‘Come back over, I need help whomping my willow.’”

      “Oh my God!” I exclaimed. “You did not just turn Harry Potter into something dirty!”

      “Oh, come on!” Sawyer responded. “You can come back. I promise I’ll be gentle when I Slytherin.”

      My eyes grew wide.

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