Stealing Bradford

And so Taylor considered doing something extremely out of character—something she hadn’t done in years. It was something her grandmother had taught her to do, back before she’d died when Taylor was ten. “Don’t you ever forget that it’s your lifeline,” Grandma had told her many a time. “And you hang onto it, Taylor girl, hang onto it for dear life.” But the years passed, and Taylor had loosened her grip on it, and little by little, she had allowed the lifeline to slip from her grasp until it had vanished completely. She wasn’t even sure if she could reach for it now.

But she decided, for Grandma’s sake, to give it a try. And just to show she was in earnest, she kneeled down on the nasty matted-down carpet next to the bed.

“Dear God,” she prayed. “If you’re there…if you still care about me…I need some help. I really, really need some help.” And then she buried her face into the prickly polyester surface of the smelly bedspread and sobbed.

Read chapter 1 of Homecoming Queen , Book 3 in Carter House Girls.

DJ jumped at the sound of someone opening her bedroom door. It was well past midnight and the house had been quiet for at least an hour now. The floor creaked as the intruder slipped into the room. With a pounding heart, DJ wondered if she should scream for help or simply play dead. Without even breathing, she peeked over the edge of her comforter just in time to see her long-lost roommate quietly closing the door.

“Taylor!” cried DJ as she threw back the covers and leaped out of bed. “Where on earth have you been?” Taylor, the tall dark-haired beauty, had been missing for days without a trace.

“Shh!” Taylor held a finger to her lips and then shirked off her leather jacket. It appeared to be soaking wet, and she dropped it to the floor with a heavy thud. “Don’t wake up the whole house.”

“We should wake them,” said DJ. “I mean everyone’s been freaking over you. We should tell my grandmother that you’re back and—

“Tomorrow,” said Taylor as she unzipped her jeans and peeled them off. “It’s late now. I just want to grab a hot shower and go to bed. No fuss.”

“But what about the police and the—”

“Seriously, DJ. I am dead tired.” Taylor scowled as she tossed the soggy jeans next to the jacket on the floor. “We’ll sort it out tomorrow. I promise.”

“But the others will be so relieved to—”

“I mean it, DJ,” hissed Taylor. “Shut up and go back to sleep!” Then, acting like it was no big deal—like everyone in the entire town hadn’t been freaking over her disappearance—Taylor slipped into the bathroom and quietly but firmly shut the door.

DJ felt slightly enraged. Wide awake and full of questions, she wanted to go in there and confront her roommate. She wanted to demand answers and explanations for this crazy missing act that had put everyone in Carter House on high alert all week. Who did Taylor think she was, anyway?

DJ could hear the water in the shower running and, remembering Taylor’s determined look, DJ got back into her bed. It probably did make more sense to sort this whole thing out by the light of day. And although she was seriously irritated at Taylor’s nonchalance, she was also hugely relieved that the girl was back. DJ remembered how these past two evenings, she and the other Carter House girls had gathered and actually prayed—each in her own way—that Taylor would make it back safely. And now, just like that, Taylor was here—and it seemed that she was just fine. Or as fine as a girl like Taylor could be. Anyway, it did seem that God really had been listening! “You’re kidding?” said Rhiannon after DJ told her the news the next morning. They were in Rhiannon’s room, whispering. “Taylor’s back? Is she here right now?”

“Yep.” DJ nodded as she closed the bedroom door behind her. It was still early, but she had to talk to someone. And Rhiannon was the world’s best listener. “She got in late last night and she’s still asleep. Where’s Casey?”

“In the bathroom.” Rhiannon pulled her blue bathrobe off the end of her bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Did Taylor say where she’d been?”

“No. But she was soaking wet when she came in so I can only assume she rode home on her Vespa.”

“Yeah. It was pouring down rain last night.”

Rhiannon knocked on the bathroom door, calling out Casey’s name. “She’s got to know,” Rhiannon said to DJ as they waited.

Casey emerged, wrapped in a towel with her short wet hair sticking out in all directions. She stared curiously at DJ.

“What’s up?”

“Taylor’s back.”

Casey’s already large brown eyes now grew huge. “She’s back?”

“Yep.” DJ quickly filled her in on the late night arrival. “And she’s okay?”

“As far as I can see. She’s asleep right now.”

“Did you tell her…about me? I mean, that I’m the one who did the MySpace thing?”

“No. She wouldn’t even let me talk to her.”

Casey sank into the window seat and slowly shook her head. “I guess this is when the stuff hits the fan, huh?”