Page 31 of Lance

Lance is in trouble? “I’m coming with you,” I say, pushing back my chair. It must be a mark of how worried he is, because for once in my life he doesn’t try to treat me like a baby and make me stay behind. Instead he holds the door open for me and together we hurry down the hallway to Lance’sroom.

Before James has even finished knocking, the door swings open to reveal Layla. She looks completely shell-shocked and doesn’t even blink when she sees that I’ve joined James. “Come on,” she says, standing aside so we can enter the room. “This is fuckingcrazy.”

Lance’s suite is the mirror of James’s room. We find him sitting at the small dining table, on the phone, a look of utter panic on his face. “She justleft,” he barks in a strangely hushed voice. “She took off and I couldn’t catch her.” A pause. “I don’t know! What am I supposed to do? I don’t even know who the fuck to call.” He drops his voice even lower when he swears, which is definitely weird, like he’s trying to keep someone from overhearing. And then I realize that the television in the sitting area is turned on, some cartoonblasting.

And sitting on the couch in front of it is a littleboy.

James seems to notice him at the same time as me, grabbing the edge of one of the dining chairs. “Who is that?” he hisses toLayla.

“Weren’t you listening?” she snaps in the same hushed tone Lance isusing.

“You were freaking out, Layla!” James says. “I could barely understandyou!”

Layla closes her eyes for a minute, like she’s trying to keep it together. “That’s Angie’s kid,” she says, sounding slightly calmer. “She just left him in the lobby with Lance. She says he’shis.”

Oh my God. I look back and forth between Lance, cradling the phone to his ear like a lifeline, and the boy on the couch. I have no idea who Angie is, but the similarity between Lance and the little boy is obvious. Holyshit.

My brother swallows several times before he’s able to respond. “Who’s he talking to?” he asks, nodding atLance.

“Louis.”

James closes his eyes, as if this news is the last straw, just as Dylan comes in from the bedroom, holding his own phone. “Haylee’s on the way.” His eyes widen at the sight of James. “Can you believethis?”

“I don’t even understand what’s goingon!”

Lance holds the phone away from his ear. “Will you all shut the hell up?” he barks, his voice much louder, and I notice the kid on the couch is staring in at us as Lance goes back to the phone. The tension in the room is terrible—Lance looks like he’s about to have a panic attack and James and Layla are both pacing. And still the kid is staring at us, his eyes wide, the noisy cartoonforgotten.

I realize, belatedly, what it is he’s watching—or not watching.Star Wars: The Clone Wars. Which, because I’m a giant nerd, just so happens to be one of my favorite cartoons of all time. I have no idea how to help Lance right now, but I can definitely talk aboutStar Wars. I take a deep breath and head into the sittingarea.

“Hey,” I tell the kid, sitting on the couch next to him but making sure to leave plenty of room so he doesn’t get freaked out. Ormorefreaked out, I should say. He’s watching me with wide eyes—Lance’s eyes. I try to push the thought away. “Whatchawatching?”

He stares at me for a long moment before responding. “Clone Wars,” he finally says, his voicetiny.

“Clone Warsis awesome,” I tell him, peering at the TV. “Oh, I’ve seen this one. Ahsoka Tano is thebest.”

“She’s pretty good,” he says, his voice a shade louder now. “But I like Anakin better. He’s myfavorite.”

“Anakin is pretty awesome in this show. Have you seen theStar Warsmovies?”

He nods. “Course I have. Even theprequels.”

I grin at him. “Which one did you likebest?”

“Empire.Duh.”

“Spoken like a truefan.”

We watch the TV for a minute while everyone in the dining room huddles around Lance, who appears to be off the phonenow.

“I can’t believe Angie would do this,” I hear Lance say and the kid’s head snaps back in thatdirection.

“I’m Willa,” I say, hoping to distract him. “What’s yourname?”

“Simon,” hewhispers.

“Hey, that’s a great name!” I tell him. “Simon is one of the best characters onFirefly.”

He shakes his head, those dark eyes still wide, and I feel a stab of pain for him. He’s obviously scared out of his mind and has no idea what’s going on. The stab of pain shifts to white-hot anger. Who in the hell is this Angie person and how did she think this was anywhere nearokay?