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                                                                                        Sneak Peek Excerpt

                                                                                                    Chapter 1


    Joe could tell who the man on the phone was just by the way he spoke. He said Joe’s name in such a way that it was as identifying as a fingerprint, carefully enunciating the two syllables until they joined together to form the single word Joe had identified with all his life: Joe-seph.

    The voice brought a smile to Joe’s face. “Hey, Luke. What’s up?” He had been lying on his bed, debating whether or not he should go to the track and get in shape for spring tryouts, when the phone rang. He had been finding it easier and easier to drift into that limbo between sports and supposed sitting around all winter had caused this nullifying effect. He also supposed part of it was Amanda. When you had a girlfriend, it was much easier to want to spend time with her rather than do anything else.

    Joe reasoned that was why he hadn’t seen Luke since the time he brought the movie over to his apartment. Sometimes, time just got away. Therefore, he was glad that Luke had made the effort to call him.

    “Not much,” Luke said. “Are you home right now?”

    “Yeah, I’m in my room.”

    “Good. I need to ask you for a favor. Go to your window.”

    Joe did, curious as to what he might find. He almost expected to see Luke standing in the street, waving to him. Instead, the only thing he saw when he peeked out his blinds was the normal scenery of a dull suburban block.

    “I’m there,” Joe said, half disappointed. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

    “Look at my house.”

    My house, Joe thought. Luke was still referring to it as his.

    “Okay . . . ?”

    “Is there a car in the driveway?”

    There wasn’t. Joe was about to say so when Luke added:

    “A white car?”

    Suddenly, everything began to piece together: the white Mercedes. He was talking about the white Mercedes. Joe still felt a bit guilty that he’d had dinner with Bryce and decided to play dumb. “No, there’s no car in the driveway. What’s this about?”

    There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then: “I think it belongs to the guy Crystal’s seeing.”

    Joe could understand how Luke must feel. It couldn’t have been more than a few months since the separation. Luke had a right to be pissed. Anyone in his situation did. But as much as Joe disliked what had happened to Luke, he had to admit that he thought Bryce was a pretty nice guy.

    When Joe didn’t say anything, Luke interpreted his silence as surprise. “I know,” he said. “Fast, right? Almost too fast. Makes me think this guy might have been in the picture before I was out of it, if you know what I mean.”

    “Luke, I—”

    “Don’t worry about it. There’s no way you could have known about him. But there is a way you can help me.”

    Joe bit his lip, unsure if he wanted to hear what it was.

    “I need you to look out your window every half hour and call me if that car shows up, okay? He’ll most likely park in the driveway.”

    Now Joe was sure he didn’t want to get involved. The only thing was he couldn’t just say no, not after all the times Luke had helped him out with his car. And not just any car, either: his first car. Every teenager’s vessel into freedom. He also remembered what Luke had said when he’d tried to thank him for his help: That’s what neighbors are for.

    Those five words echoed in Joe’s head now. Therefore, instead of saying no like he wanted to, Joe knew he had to pay his old neighbor back.

    “Sure,” he said. “No problem.”  



                                                                                                  Chapter 2


    An hour passed before Joe actually looked out the window. He was walking into the kitchen when he saw the white Mercedes parked in the driveway across the street. He debated whether or not to eat something first, but then, after remembering how Luke had sounded on the phone, he decided to call him back.

    Luke answered after the first ring. “Joseph. Is he there?”

    “Yeah. He parked in your driveway, just like you said he would.”

    There was a grating sound on the other end of the line, like Luke was grinding his teeth. Then: “Is his the only car in the driveway?”

    Joe thought it was, but peered out the window again just to make sure. “Yeah.”

    “So nobody’s behind him?”

    “No.”

    “Okay, good. Do you own a pair of binoculars?”

    The question took Joe by surprise. “Binoculars?”

    “I need you to read me his license plate.”

    “His— Oh . . .” Joe didn’t like where this was going. He wondered if doing such a thing was even legal. He almost asked Luke, and then stopped himself. Not because the question would sound dumb, but because he was afraid of the answer.

    “I have a friend who’s a police officer,” Luke said. “He can run his plate and tell me exactly who this guy is.”

    Joe thought about telling Luke who Bryce was himself so he could save Luke the trouble, but then realized if he did he would reveal that he knew more than he’d let on earlier. He’d already played dumb and acted as if he’d never seen Bryce before. Now he had to keep up the charade.

    Getting the plate number wasn’t the problem—his mother kept a pair of binoculars in the kitchen drawer for watching the birds on the birdfeeder—the problem was that when he envisioned himself looking through the lenses, spying, he felt sick, almost slimy.

    “You would be doing me a huge favor,” Luke continued. “You might think I sound crazy asking you to do this, but that guy’s over there with my daughter and I have no idea who he is. Don’t I have a right to know? Crystal didn’t even have the courtesy to tell me she was seeing someone, and now she’s brought him into the house where our daughter sleeps. Can you believe that?”

    Joe was starting to believe it. If Crystal had foreseen how Luke would act, then maybe she had done the right thing. Who knew what Luke would do to Bryce in a bout of jealous rage? That was another reason why Joe was so hesitant about getting the plate number: he didn’t want to be an accessory. Nevertheless, Luke did have a logical argument: Luke didn’t know who Bryce was. It wasn’t enough to convince Joe, though. What convinced him was the fact that Luke could just as easily get the information himself if he was around. Plus if Joe did this for him, then he and Luke would be even and that would be that.

    “That’s messed up that Crystal didn’t even tell you she was seeing someone,” Joe said, trying to put sympathy behind his words. He thought he did a pretty good job. He also thought that was what Luke wanted to hear.

    It was.

    “I’m glad you agree, Joseph. I hope you never have to go through what I am. I hope you and Amanda stay together.”

    “Thanks,” Joe said, distracted. He was already rummaging through the drawer for the binoculars. He pushed aside a pair of scissors, a pair of pliers, a screwdriver, a few scattered pens (half of which no longer worked), a hammer, other assorted knickknacks that found the drawer to be their final resting place, and came upon the black leather case. He pulled it out like a claw in a claw-machine game. The binoculars inside were made out of sleek black rubber with the word BUSHNELL written across the barrel of one of the scopes. Joe put the binoculars to his eyes and peered out. The kitchen clock leaped out at him, the numbers so big that they were blurry. He adjusted the little knob between the barrels until it cleared.

    Guess they work, he thought.

    “I’m sure you and Amanda won’t have any problems,” Luke was saying. “She seems like a very nice girl. How’s everything between you two?”

    “So far so good,” Joe said.

    “Good,” Luke said. “The first few months of any relationship is always the best. Cherish it.”

    “I will. I have the binoculars, by the way.”

    “You do? Good. What’s the plate number?”

    Joe carried them over to the window and put them up to his eyes again. This time, instead of everything being blurry because it was too close, it was blurry because it was too far away. He tried adjusting the focus a second time, only to find that his efforts were in vain. It was his vision, he realized. He didn’t need a wall chart to tell him it was time for a new contact prescription. The letters and numbers on the plate blurred together to form one incomprehensible jumble. 

    “I can’t make it out,” he told Luke.

    “Try adjusting the focus.”

    Joe did, even though he knew it would get him nowhere. “Still blurry.”

    “What kind of binoculars are they?”

    Joe looked at the name on the barrel again. “Bushnell.”

    “Must be one of the lower-end models. Something you can pick up at a drugstore.”

    “My mom’s not exactly 007,” Joe said. “She uses these things to look at birds, not spy on the president.”

    “Do you think you can go outside for me and get a little closer? Even if they’re not the greatest binoculars, they should still be better than your normal eyesight.”

    Joe thought about this. He was already treading water he didn’t want to. If he did this, he’d be doing laps in it. But then he thought about what Luke had said earlier—how he was worried about his daughter—and knew he couldn’t just tell him no.

    “Yeah,” he said, a little reluctantly. “Just let me get my shoes on.”

    He decided to use the back door and go around to the gate instead of opening the garage. He did this for two reasons: The first was because going out of the garage would be too obvious, especially with the binoculars in his hand. The second was because he didn’t want his mother to hear the motor and come out looking for him. He had a feeling that if she caught him spying on Bryce’s car, he would never hear the end of it. More so, nobody else would hear the end of it. When your mother was a certified gossip that’s the price you were apt to pay if you weren’t careful.

    He slipped out of the house like an eel, careful not to make a sound, and did the same when he came to the gate. He paused, looking for a place to hunker down, and decided on one of the bushes next to the driveway.

    “Did you get the plate number yet?” Luke asked in his ear.

    “Not yet,” Joe said. “I’m trying to get into position.” God, he sounded more like a spy than ever. He might as well talk to Luke in code in case an enemy was eavesdropping.

    “Okay,” he said after he’d scurried over to the bush. “I’m looking now.”

    The back of the Mercedes looked closer, yet the license plate was still blurry, the letters and numbers indistinguishable. This was the closest he dared to get and was about to abort the mission, when he decided to try adjusting the focus one last time. Slowly, with each turn, the picture within the two circles became clearer. The view was still a long way off from being considered HD, but it was enough for Joe to make out what he needed.

    He read the letters and numbers to Luke as he tried to steady his hands and stop the world from trembling (through the binoculars it looked like it was in an earthquake). When he finished Luke said, “Let me read it back to you.”

    Joe confirmed all but the last digit before everything went black. For one horrible second, he feared that God had struck him blind for being sneaky and underhanded. Then he lowered the binoculars and saw that it was much worse. A tall and brawny man stood over him, silhouetted against the sun.

    “Hello, Joe,” Bryce said.




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