Page 40 of The Intruder

The back door of the Carter house leads to the kitchen.

There is a large window on the back door, and I can see the refrigerator and stove.

It doesn’t look anything like my kitchen though.

It’s hard to see much because it’s so dark, but I can tell that the floor isn’t sticky and cluttered with cans and plastic bottles.

The counters are clean, and you can actually put food and plates on them.

You can actually cook. It looks like…a normal kitchen.

I wonder what they have in their refrigerator. I bet they don’t have any expired yogurt at all. Not even one container.

I wonder what breakfast is like in the Carter house.

I bet Mrs. Carter makes something fresh on the stove every morning, because hers isn’t covered with pots and pans and expired food.

I bet when she makes pancakes, they have smiley faces formed from blueberries or even chocolate chips.

If I were eating with them, I would ask for chocolate chips in my pancakes.

As I imagine it, I can almost taste the chocolate morsels melting in my mouth. My stomach rumbles.

My left hand is still gripping the knife as I place my right hand on the doorknob to the back door. I didn’t really think it would be unlocked, but to my surprise, the knob turns. Gently, I push open the door.

I shouldn’t do this. I really shouldn’t. But would it be so awful just to take a quick look around? I mean, if John Carter is my father, it’s really sort of my house too, isn’t it?

I wonder what Brittany’s room looks like.

I bet her bed is neatly made by her mother every morning.

Her dresser is probably filled with folded clean clothes, which smell of nothing but laundry detergent.

She surely has a desk, which might have a few of her textbooks on it, maybe a computer, and definitely not a fish tank.

All of a sudden, there’s nothing I want more in the whole world than to see Brittany’s room.

And it would be so easy. The door to the house is unlocked, so it’s not like I’d have to break in.

If I’m really quiet, I bet I could creep upstairs and find her bedroom.

It’s so late, she’s surely sound asleep.

I bet I could look around without her ever waking up.

And if she does wake up? Well, I’ve got my knife. Not that I’d stab Brittany or anything like that, but if I showed her the knife, I bet I could persuade her not to scream or tell her parents.

But before I get the door more than cracked open, I hear a burst of angry barking. My legs turn to liquid as I slam the door shut, my plan to visit Brittany’s room completely forgotten. Oh my God, they have a dog. A big angry dog with lots of saliva dripping from its mouth.

That is my cue to start running.

Thank God, the dog is shut inside and can’t come after me. I run as fast as my legs can carry me, far away from the Carters’ house. I only dare look back once, and when I do, one of the lights in an upstairs bedroom overlooking the backyard has turned on.

I wonder if they saw me.

The thought is extremely unsettling. I would be in so much trouble if I got caught sneaking around some house in the middle of the night. I don’t know what I was thinking! I just wanted so badly to meet my father.

I’m so amped up from almost getting eaten by that dog that there’s no way I’ll be able to fall back asleep.

I check my watch—it’s two in the morning.

If my mother woke up and discovered I wasn’t in my bed, she’d be worried, but my mother sleeps so soundly.

You’d think she was dead except for the loud snoring.

Anyway, I don’t feel like going home, so I wander around aimlessly for a while. At least I think I’m wandering around aimlessly, but then I realize I’m almost at Anton’s house. Since I’m already almost there, I walk the rest of the way. It’s late, but maybe he’s still awake.

The housing complex where Anton lives is quiet at night, and I’m glad I’ve got my knife for protection.

His apartment is on the second floor, and it takes me a second to figure out which of the rooms is his.

The light looks like it’s off in the room, but it’s not completely dark. Maybe he’s still awake.

Before I can change my mind, I grab a pebble from the ground and toss it at his window. I stare up at the window, and nothing happens. So I grab another pebble and toss that one too.

After the second throw, the lights come on in the room. I don’t see anyone at the window, and for a moment, I’m worried I got the wrong apartment. Then Anton’s face appears behind the glass, and his eyes bug out when he sees me standing there. He wrenches the window open.

“Ella!” He’s whispering but loud enough for me to hear. “What the hell are you doing here?” Before I can answer, he shakes his head. “Don’t move. I’m coming down.”

I wait in front of Anton’s building, my fingers wrapped around the knife in my hoodie pocket, and about two minutes later, he comes out wearing a sweatshirt and ripped jeans. Even though he looks wide-awake, he lets out a yawn as he walks up to me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks me again.

I flash back to standing outside the Carter house and feeling that knife in my pocket.

I was almost inside, almost about to do…

Well, I don’t know what. Then the dog scared me.

Now that I think of it, it was probably a really good thing.

As I mull it over, I start shaking, and I hug my arms to my chest to try to stop.

He frowns. “Ella? Are you okay?”

I wish I could tell Anton what I did tonight, but he wouldn’t get it. He thinks it’s dumb that I want to be part of Brittany’s family. Even though he hates his father, at least he has one. He even has a brother. His home isn’t like mine.

“I’m fine” is all I can manage. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up.”

“Yes, I did.”

“You didn’t,” he insists, but his bedhead says otherwise.

I look down at my sneakers, which are a size too small and pinch my toes.

Three years ago, there was a sale at a shoe store, and my mother bought five pairs of sneakers a size too big for my feet.

I spent a year wearing shoes that were too big, then a year when they fit, and now they’re too small.

But Mom says we can’t get more shoes since we have so many perfectly good ones.

“Let me walk you home,” Anton says softly.

“It’s okay,” I say. “It’s not that far.”

“It’s not safe for you to walk alone.”

“I’ll be safe.” I reach into the pocket of my hoodie and wrap my fingers around the handle of the X-Acto knife, then pull it out to show it to him. “I’ve got protection.”

“Holy crap, Ella!” Anton’s jaw drops open, and I can’t tell if he’s more surprised or impressed. “Do you walk around with that?”

“Not all the time.”

“Don’t let them catch you with that at school. You’ll get expelled for sure.” He pauses. “And school would suck if you weren’t there.”

“I’ll be careful,” I say, and I mean it.

He jerks his head in the general direction of where I live. “Come on. I’m going to walk you home. I want to.”

I still feel kind of shaky if I’m being honest, so I decide to let him walk me home. We don’t talk much because Anton is still sleepy, but it’s nice to have him with me. A few times, his shoulder bumps against mine as we walk, and each time, he smiles at me.