Midnight Girl Read online

  “How come I never saw you?”

  “Did you ask the professor?”

  “He doesn’t talk about Mama’s family.”

  “Or Granny Lupe?”

  “She says you’re too busy with your foolishness.” He laughed fondly. “I’ve missed her.” She thought, A gorgeous cousin I never knew. The cool. Will Tee crush on him? Of course. I kind of am.

  She looked back toward Casa Medianoche. The faded red velvet drapes were drawn on the ground floor. Its flaking white plaster and the brown weeds in the front yard embarrassed her. She said, “Granny Lupe’s probably asleep already.” As his eyes narrowed, she added, “You know, ‘cause of her porphyria. The sunlight.”

  He looked toward the mountains. The sun was reaching the crest, casting a red glow in the morning haze. She thought, Red sky in morning, sailor take warning.

  He looked back at her. “You look like your mother, when she was young.”

  She shook her head. “No way. Mama was beautiful.”

  “Yes,” he said simply. She thought, He’s not saying I’m beautiful. He’s saying Mama was beautiful. He’s family. Family always say you look better than you do.

  He added, “A shame you have your father’s eyes.”

  She swallowed to hide a stab of disappointment, because he was right. Then he looked closer. “No. They suit you. They’re black ice in his face, but in yours, they’re the mystery and promise of night.”

  He smelled like smoke and pine, something familiar and wild. His eyes seemed to glow like moonlight. She thought, Baldomero. I would do anything for you.

  He stepped back. “Someone’s watching. A friend?”

  She shook her head to clear it, saw him frown, realized he had misunderstood, and nodded as she looked up the street. Tarika, in a man’s dark suit and shades like Cat’s, was approaching the far corner. “Tee. My best friend.”

  Baldomero’s frown slid easily into a smile. “You’re gangsters?” Cat drew her squirt gun. “This is—” He caught her wrist before she could point it at him. His hand was cool on her skin and so firm that she couldn’t move her arm, yet so gentle that she barely felt his grip. She finished, “—a stick-up?”

  He smiled, released her wrist, and spread his arms wide. “Forgive me. Should you wish to take anything else, I’m at your mercy.”

  “Anything else?”

  “In addition to my heart.” His smile made her think of a puppy. She laughed and squirted him in the eyes. He jumped back, shook water from himself like a dog, and said, “You don’t believe me?”

  “‘In addition to my heart?’ Who would believe a line like that?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Huh. It must be harder to be convincing when I believe what I say.”

  She squirted him again. “Yeah, right.”

  He laughed, then looked at the sky, then back at her. “I must go. Don’t tell anyone I spoiled the surprise.”

  “What surprise?”

  “That I’m here. No one expects me until tonight, at your party. It’ll be our secret?”

  “Our secret,” she agreed. He nodded, turned, and began striding down Deseo Street. She heard Tee call, “Hola, La Gata! We’ll be late!” Cat turned and began running down the block. On the far side of the street, Tarika was skipping between the curb and the sidewalk. Cat grinned. Last night, they had watched Singing in the Rain. Tarika was improvising a dance like Gene Kelly’s.

  Reaching the curb, Cat glanced both ways. An orange van slowed as it approached the stop sign. She began to cross, calling, “Tee! That’s perfect!”

  The loud caw of a raven made her look back. The orange van was speeding up as it shot through the intersection. Tarika screamed, “Cat!” The van was dusty and spattered with mud. The inside was dark.

  Someone sat behind the wheel in a blue jacket, white gloves, and a Donald Duck mask. Cat thought, He’ll hit the brakes. There must be something wrong with the brakes.

  Should she jump back, run forward, or stand still and hope Donald swerved? She tried to see which way he would go. Then she saw the answer: Straight at her.

  Tarika shouted, “Run!” And Cat ran forward, knowing she could never be fast enough. Something slammed into the small of her back, throwing her into

  Tarika’s arms. As Tarika jerked her onto the sidewalk, the van shot by. Cat spun to see what had happened.

  The white wolf was chasing the van. The van squealed around the next corner. Cat just had time to read the lettering on its side: Arkan Exterminators. No job too big or too small.

  The wolf followed the van around the corner, and both were gone. In the silence, Cat thought, A wolf saved me from Donald Duck. No. Donald couldn’t have been aiming at me. He must’ve lost control of the van. Maybe he was having trouble seeing through his mask. It was an accident. A stupid accident. And a shaggy white dog bumped into me. Another accident. Nothing unusual. One bit of bad luck, one bit of good.

  It’s perfectly ordinary.

  She began to tremble.

  Not a dog. A wolf. That looked just like the one that tried to steal my present. But there can’t be wolves in Tucson. It must be a wild dog in the neighborhood, that’s all.

  Tarika wrapped her arms around her and squeezed her hard. “Cat? You okay?”

  She nodded, though she wasn’t. Everything around her seemed bright and fragile. She said, “Was that the same wolf?”

  “Or the same wolf-dog mix. We should call the police.”

  “Because of the wolf-dogs?”

  “Because someone nearly killed you. That wolf-dog-whatever saved you.”

  “Oh. Right.”

  Tarika reached into her back pack, but Cat said, “I should,” and got out her cell phone. As soon as the dispatcher answered, Cat said, “An orange van ran a stop sign and nearly hit me. It turned off De Anza onto Jeffords, heading downtown. The side says Arkan Exterminators. The driver’s wearing a Donald Duck mask. He must be drunk or something. He didn’t try to brake.”

  The dispatcher said, “No one was hurt?”

  “No. A dog—” Cat stopped. What’s stranger, nearly being run over or being saved by a wolf?

  “What about a dog?”

  “Nothing. It almost hit a dog, too. I’m okay, but that guy should be caught.”

  “Don’t worry, Miss. He should be easy to find.”

  Cat gave her name, address, and phone number, thanked the dispatcher, and clicked off her cell. Tarika said, “Cat? You sure you’re good?”

  She nodded for Tarika’s sake, not because she believed it. “Good enough. Gooder, anyway. Where did the wolf-whatzit come from?”

  “Totally nowhere. Did you see its teeth? If it catches the van, that duck’s dinner.”

  “A wolf can’t hurt a van.”

  “If that one was after me, I wouldn’t feel safe in a tank.” Tarika hugged Cat again. “I’m just glad it likes you.”

  “Totally ditto.” Tarika released her and stepped back. “Cat?”

  “What?”

  “Remember me talking about the new boy in karate? The cute one?”

  “Not the cute one in your painting class?”

  “No.”

  “Or the cute one in your dance class?”

  “Cat, this isn’t about my infinite crushing. It’s serious.”

  “The tenth-grader? Ilya something?” Tarika nodded. “Ilya Arkan.” Cat stared at her. “We should call the cops back.”

  “You told them the name on the van. Let them handle it.”

  “Right.” As they started toward school, Cat said, “Could it have been

  Ilya?”

  “No way!”

  “Good.”

  “I mean, it couldn’t have been.”

  “Because he’s cute?”

  “And nice. And why would he wear a mask if he was driving a truck with his last name on it?” Tarika shook her head. “Too weird, Catgirl. Definitely let the police handle it. Hey, who were you talking to earlier?”

  “My cousin Baldomero. Now tell me
he’s the cutest boy ever.”

  “Cute?” Tarika shrugged. “I didn’t notice.”

  “Wait. La Artista Who Notices All The Cute People didn’t notice

  Baldomero?”

  “I just noticed you were talking to some guy.” Her frown deepened.

  “I don’t remember what he looked like. A really ordinary guy, right?” Cat laughed. “A really ordinary, absolutely gorgeous, kind of scary guy. I’m not the only one kind of shook up by that van.”

  “Scary?”

  Cat said, “Like—” and stopped before she spoke the rest of her thought. Golden eyes.

  “Like what?”

  “This sounds crazy.”

  “Like that’ll surprise me.”

  “Kind of like a wolf.” Tarika stared at Cat while Cat thought, I sound like I’ve gone crazy.

  Maybe I have.

  Then Tarika smiled. “After this morning, you’ll be seeing wolves all day. I hope they catch that dog soon.”

  “Definitely ditto.”

  ———

  Because they arrived ten minutes late, Cat and Tarika were sent straight to the principal’s office. Lovejoy, standing behind the front desk, towered over them, even over Tarika. He wore his usual dark suit, white shirt, and dark tie. He said, “Catalina Medianoche and Tarika Soto. It’s always a pleasure to start my day with you two ladies. One week detention hall, starting today, for the Blues Sisters.”

  Cat said, “Why?”

  “You know the costume policy.”

  “Are you in a costume?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then we’re not.”

  “Hmm.” He stroked his goatee. “Obviously you are, or you wouldn’t have been sent here.”

  Tarika said, “We were sent here because we were late.” Lovejoy nodded. “Better and better. Two weeks detention.” Tarika said, “Because Cat was nearly run over!” Lovejoy blinked at Cat. “Is this a joke?”

  Cat shook her head. “Call the police. We made a 9-1-1.”

  Lovejoy said, “Wait here,” and went in his office. After a minute, he came back and said gently, “Sorry. No detention. You may go back to class.” He turned to the mirror and straightened his tie. “After all, can’t blame you for wanting to look sharp.”

  Cat said, “Sir? Did they find the driver?”

  “Just the van,” Lovejoy replied. “A few blocks from where it was stolen. It must’ve been a kid on a joyride.”

  Tarika said, “It was stolen?”

  Lovejoy nodded. “Which is not your problem now. Your problem is getting back to class while you still have my sympathy. That’s good for another forty-five seconds.” He glanced at his watch. “No, thirty-five. No, twenty-five—”

  Tarika tugged Cat’s wrist. “We’re gone.”

  In the hallt, Cat smiled at Tarika. “I could turn cartwheels all the way to class.”

  “Because we didn’t get detention?”

  “Because the weird is over. Halloween can be normal now.”

  “Maybe there should be some weird on Halloween.”

  “Yeah. Predictable weird, like people in brilliant costumes, and surprise parties, and new kinds of candy in your trick or treat bag. Good weird. Not bad weird. “

  Tarika nodded. “Ilya will be glad they found his mom’s van.”

  “Wanting to forget about it, Tee.”

  “Did I say he’s cute?”

  “Did I say wanting to forget about it?”

  “Sorry, Cat. Really not so good at forgetting cute boys with Hungarian accents.”

  Cat glanced at her. “Excuse me. What day is it?”

  Tarika nodded. “The true. And the very sorry. For the rest of the day, it’s totally about you.”

  Cat grinned. “You are Official Best Friend Ever.” And before Tarika could say another word, Cat jerked open the door of their classroom.

  Trick Zapia looked up as they entered. Cat met his eyes, thinking,

  Yes, he’s definitely the cutest boy in ninth grade, and maybe in school.

  She looked away without feeling the slightest bit embarrassed. Why had she thought he was so handsome? Why had she been afraid he would notice her? Even more importantly, why had she been hoping he would? He was just a cute boy in the ninth grade.

  He wasn’t a young man with eyes like a wolf’s.

  ———

  At lunchtime, Cat carried her tray through the crowded cafeteria. Her path was blocked by a group of students, laughing together. She said, “‘Scuse me.” They turned to look at her. The group included Trick Zapia and his twin sister, Terese.

  Terese said, “It’s the midnight girl! Did you hear your papi’s web cast yet? Did you know there might be supernaturales among us?” She hugged herself and shuddered, making her friends laugh as she added, “Very scary, guapos y guapas!”

  Cat stared at her. “Not half as scary as you.” Terese blinked. “Oh, the fraidy cat isn’t running away as usual?” Cat thought, No way, and kept staring. Terese blinked again, then shuddered slightly, but this time no one laughed. Trick said, “More like a wildcat,” and smiled. The mood changed instantly, and everyone laughed, but not like before. They weren’t laughing at Cat. They were laughing with Trick.

  Cat told him, “I always thought you were nicer than your friends.”

  Trick quirked his lips, a little puzzled, a little amused. “I try to be nice.”

  “You’ll make someone a good boyfriend someday. But not me.”

  She turned and walked toward her usual table at the end of the room. Behind her, Terese muttered something about “una gata loca.”

  Cat thought, Why am I so brave today? Maybe after nearly being eaten by a wolf and driven over by someone in a mask, school cliques seem totally unimportant.

  A boy in a faded jeans jacket was sitting at their usual table. Tarika was still at the counter, trying to decide which vegetarian option looked least disgusting. Cat scanned the room. There were no unoccupied tables.

  She inhaled deeply, then started forward. If she could face down the Zapia twins and their clique, she could face down some boy she’d never seen before. Things should be as they always were on Halloween, which included eating with Tarika at their usual table.

  She set her tray kitty-corner from him and said, “This table’s reserved for ninth-grade losers.”

  He shrugged. “I do not mind this.” His accent was barely noticeable. His eyes were the color of milk chocolate. His hair was shaggy and reddish-brown. He had a wide jaw, a crooked nose, and a small scar by his left eye. Cat thought, He might’ve tried to kill me.

  The boy added, “I’ve been a ninth-grade loser. Being a tenth-grade loser is not as wonderful as I expected. But I’m sure that when I’m an eleventh-grade loser, that will be wonderful.” He smiled, and Cat thought, Paranoid much, Cat Medianoche. The innocent until proven guilty, right?

  She said, “You’re Ilya Arkan.”

  He grinned wider than before. “Tenth-grade losers are famous in Tucson? In Budapest, we losers were, ah, anonny-moose?”

  “Anonymous,” Cat said, deciding it was safe to smile back.

  “Anonymous,” Ilya repeated. “I like this word. Anonymous. Also, incognito. It is mad cool. That I like, too. Mad cool. Why does English have so many rules when English-speakers love to ignore them?”

  “It gives English teachers something to do.”

  “Yes,” he agreed, nodding. “You’re Cat Medianoche.”

  “I am?” she said, then heard herself. “I mean, yeah. But how—”

  “Tarika Soto said her best friend was one of the two coolest chicas in

  Tucson.” Tarika, arriving behind Cat, said, “I said Cat’s my best friend ever.” Ilya shrugged. “Which makes her one of the two coolest chicas in

  Tucson, yes?”

  “In Arizona.” Tarika gave them both a smile as she sat by Cat. “You introduced yourselves?” Before Ilya could answer, Cat pointed at the soccer ball next to his backpack. “Shouldn’t you sit with the jo
cks?” He squinted at her. “Must I sit with the same people always?”

  “It’s one of the unwritten rules. But if you go back to the jocks and say two geeks sat down with you, you’ll be forgiven.”

  “You want me to go?”

  “For your own good.” Cat thought, And so I won’t have to wonder if you were driving the van that nearly ruined my birthday forever.

  Tarika said, “Your mom must be glad they found her van.” Ilya blinked. “Our van was lost?”

  “Stolen. This morning.” When his frown deepened, Tarika added,

  “Must’ve been after you left for school. The driver almost hit Cat.” Ilya jerked his head to stare at Cat with something like fear or suspicion. “You saw this driver?” She shook her head. “He wore a Donald Duck mask.”

  “Oh.” Ilya looked away.

  A boy sitting with the soccer jocks saw his glance and called, “Hey, Arkan, what’re you doing at the ooky-spooky table?”

  Cat said, “See how it works?” Ilya said, “Ooky and spooky?”

  “The dad has a web site about creepy stuff.”

  “Ah.” Ilya stood, grabbed his bag and tray, looked at the soccer jocks, then at Tarika, but not Cat. “Yes. I should go now.” As he walked quickly away, Cat said, “Another victim of the unwritten rule. What a jerk.”

  “Thought you wanted him to go.”

  “Wanted to see if he’d crumble under peer pressure.” Tarika nodded. “Maximum jerk. I heard some girl thought he was cute. Can you believe that?”

  “All kinds of crazy rumors go around school.” Cat glanced back at

  Ilya. He passed the soccer jocks and went out, putting a phone to his ear. He was not part of a proper Halloween. Why wasn’t she glad he was gone?

  Chapter Three:

  Tricks and Treats

  When Cat got home, Casa Medianoche was quiet. Granny Lupe always napped in the afternoon, but Professor M was gone. So was his black van.

  What I should do, she thought, is start on my homework. Everything else can wait.

  She went to her computer. Homework can wait a minute.