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Authors: Jacquelyn Mitchard
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cheerleading career. For Mallory, her aunt and uncle provided a year’s worth of weekly tickets to the Overture Cinema Center in Deptford. Mally was grateful, but didn’t know how her aunt thought she was going to pop over to the Deptford Mall on her own. Maybe Drew or Eden would take her.
Drew came over every day to look at her like she was a science project. “I can’t believe you went through that,” he said, and begged for detail after detail. He brought Mally two more of his outgrown cross-country shirts and one that was new. “All guys are pyros,” Drew said. “But this had to be some kind of psycho if he knew people were in there.”
“Maybe it was a girl,” Mally suggested, just to bug him.
“No, a girl wouldn’t do that. I looked it up.”
“Oh, well, if you looked it up . . .” Mallory mocked him. Drew’s face flushed. Mally felt sorry for redheads: They would never be able to play poker.
“It’s true. Girls don’t have the same thing with fire. They’ll catch him, though, because they always make a mistake.”
“The one who burned down the church in Tremont didn’t.”
“That’s the one fire everyone always brings up. . . .” Drew said. “But I read about it on the Internet, and it said they always make a mistake. Like on purpose. They’re proud of what they do. Arsonists. I don’t know about that church in Tremont. Maybe somebody did it who’s already in jail for something else. Whenever I talk about this, someone mentions the church.”
“That’s because it was the only other one there was,” Mally told him. “We don’t get a lot of arson in Ridgeline. I Googled the last murder. It was in 1956. That was, like, years before my mother was born.”
“Who was it?” Drew asked.
“Guy shot his wife’s boyfriend. Very boring.”
“What about the cat murders?” he asked Mallory.
“I’m not counting cat murders. People poison cats all the time. It’s creepy, but people just hate cats. There actually are too many cats, Drewsky. And cats don’t really like people, either.”
“I like my cat,” Drew objected. His ancient one-eyed cat, Fluffy, slept every night practically on Drew’s head. Drew smelled like shampoo and mint kitty litter.
“Do you want to go to the movies?” Mally finally asked.
Drew blushed again. “Like, with you?” he mumbled.
“No, like by yourself,” Mally replied. “I’m not asking you out! God! That would only be so sick.”
Drew personally didn’t think it was sick. He adored Mallory and couldn’t wait until she was fifteen, when Campbell and Tim would allow “group dates.” He would come back from college for it. If he waited only forever, he knew Mallory would marry him. But Mally said, “It’s just that my aunt gave me enough movie passes to last until I’m thirty for saving the kids.”
“Well, you did.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. Merry did it all. I was out of it. . . .”
“Still, Mallory. People run from fires. I’ve heard of parents running from a fire with their own kids inside.”
“No way.”
“Way,” Drew said.
“Did you Google that, too?”
“No,” Drew said. He had.
Mallory sighed and said, “Well, I’m watching Days here, if you don’t mind. So do you want to go to the movies? Or should I just give you some of the fourteen thousand passes I have and you can take a real girl?”
“I’ll go,” Drew told her. “You’ll have to wear a mask, though.”
Mallory threw her hands up over her face. Drew wanted to punch himself. She thought he meant the faint rosy remains of the scorch burns on her face.
“I only meant that everyone recognizes you.”
“I’ll go dressed as Meredith. I’ll put on false eyelashes.”
“That’ll do it. No one will recognize Meredith,” Drew said. “I feel better already.”
Later that day, Drew hung around outside the dining room while Mallory and Meredith were interviewed by the state fire inspector. Mallory didn’t tell Drew, but
Drew came over every day to look at her like she was a science project. “I can’t believe you went through that,” he said, and begged for detail after detail. He brought Mally two more of his outgrown cross-country shirts and one that was new. “All guys are pyros,” Drew said. “But this had to be some kind of psycho if he knew people were in there.”
“Maybe it was a girl,” Mally suggested, just to bug him.
“No, a girl wouldn’t do that. I looked it up.”
“Oh, well, if you looked it up . . .” Mallory mocked him. Drew’s face flushed. Mally felt sorry for redheads: They would never be able to play poker.
“It’s true. Girls don’t have the same thing with fire. They’ll catch him, though, because they always make a mistake.”
“The one who burned down the church in Tremont didn’t.”
“That’s the one fire everyone always brings up. . . .” Drew said. “But I read about it on the Internet, and it said they always make a mistake. Like on purpose. They’re proud of what they do. Arsonists. I don’t know about that church in Tremont. Maybe somebody did it who’s already in jail for something else. Whenever I talk about this, someone mentions the church.”
“That’s because it was the only other one there was,” Mally told him. “We don’t get a lot of arson in Ridgeline. I Googled the last murder. It was in 1956. That was, like, years before my mother was born.”
“Who was it?” Drew asked.
“Guy shot his wife’s boyfriend. Very boring.”
“What about the cat murders?” he asked Mallory.
“I’m not counting cat murders. People poison cats all the time. It’s creepy, but people just hate cats. There actually are too many cats, Drewsky. And cats don’t really like people, either.”
“I like my cat,” Drew objected. His ancient one-eyed cat, Fluffy, slept every night practically on Drew’s head. Drew smelled like shampoo and mint kitty litter.
“Do you want to go to the movies?” Mally finally asked.
Drew blushed again. “Like, with you?” he mumbled.
“No, like by yourself,” Mally replied. “I’m not asking you out! God! That would only be so sick.”
Drew personally didn’t think it was sick. He adored Mallory and couldn’t wait until she was fifteen, when Campbell and Tim would allow “group dates.” He would come back from college for it. If he waited only forever, he knew Mallory would marry him. But Mally said, “It’s just that my aunt gave me enough movie passes to last until I’m thirty for saving the kids.”
“Well, you did.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t like I had a choice. Merry did it all. I was out of it. . . .”
“Still, Mallory. People run from fires. I’ve heard of parents running from a fire with their own kids inside.”
“No way.”
“Way,” Drew said.
“Did you Google that, too?”
“No,” Drew said. He had.
Mallory sighed and said, “Well, I’m watching Days here, if you don’t mind. So do you want to go to the movies? Or should I just give you some of the fourteen thousand passes I have and you can take a real girl?”
“I’ll go,” Drew told her. “You’ll have to wear a mask, though.”
Mallory threw her hands up over her face. Drew wanted to punch himself. She thought he meant the faint rosy remains of the scorch burns on her face.
“I only meant that everyone recognizes you.”
“I’ll go dressed as Meredith. I’ll put on false eyelashes.”
“That’ll do it. No one will recognize Meredith,” Drew said. “I feel better already.”
Later that day, Drew hung around outside the dining room while Mallory and Meredith were interviewed by the state fire inspector. Mallory didn’t tell Drew, but
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