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that he was in a slow learner class. But that wasn’t the same as her knowing that he was using the same workbook she used in the fourth friggin’ grade.
    “Um, I was saying that it didn’t seem that likely Jesse’s dad took him,” Rae answered.
    “One way to find out,” Anthony answered. “You see a pay phone anywhere?”
    Rae dug around in her purse. “I have my cell,” she said, pulling it out.
    A cell. Of course a girl like her would have a cell phone.
    “See if you can get the number for a place called Hurricanes in New Orleans.”
    “Got it,” Rae said a few moments later.
    “Will you dial it for me?” Anthony asked.
    She punched in some numbers and gave him the phone. It felt too small in his hand, kind of like a doll thing. A woman answered on the third ring.
    “Hey,” Anthony said. He wasn’t sure how loud he needed to talk since the mouthpiece wasn’t anywhere near his mouth, but from the look Rae was giving him, not as loud as he’d thought. He lowered his voice a little. “I’m a friend of Luke Gilmore’s. I wanted to surprise him this weekend. Does he still work there?”
    “Saturday through Thursday night,” the woman said.
    “Cool. Thanks.” Anthony didn’t even attempt to hang up the phone. He just thrust it back at Rae.
    “We’re going on a road trip to New Orleans this weekend,” he told her.

Chapter 3
    Rae pulled a folded pajama shirt out of her dresser, then hesitated before putting it in her gym bag.
    Should she bring it? Why hadn’t she asked Anthony if they were staying over? Wouldn’t they have to stay over? It was, like, eight hours to New Orleans, plus time in the bar. They wouldn’t try to drive back tonight, would they?
    Especially because Rae didn’t have her license yet and couldn’t help with the driving.
    She shoved the sleep shirt in the bag. If she needed it, she’d have it. Yeah, now you just have one other teeny, tiny little thing to do before you go, Rae told herself. Tell Dad… something. Which she should have done Thursday night.
    Or Friday morning. Or at least Friday night. But she couldn’t come up with the right lie. Maybe there was no right lie that would get any dad to give permission for his daughter to go to New Orleans with someone he didn’t even know, less than a month after she got out of the nuthouse.
    “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay. Here goes. Dad, I… Dad, I…” Hopeless. Totally hopeless. She opened her mouth to try again.
    The doorbell rang. “That better not be Anthony,”
    Rae muttered. He wasn’t supposed to be there until eleven. She sprinted for the door. If it was Anthony, she wanted to get to him first. She yanked open the door. “Yana. It’s you.”
    “Got it on the first try,” Yana answered. “Ready to shop?”
    Rae winced. “Oh God. I totally forgot. I’m losing my mind.” She and Yana both cracked up. “My brain,” Rae corrected herself. “I’m losing parts of my brain, like the part that remembers stuff. I’m not going insane again.”
    “But even though you forgot, you still want to go, right?” Yana asked.
    Rae frowned. “Wrong. Sorry. The thing is-” She glanced behind her, doing a Dad check. “Remember that kid I told you about? The one who might have run away? Well, there’s a chance his father snatched him.
    Anthony and I are going to go check it out. If I can come up with a good enough story to feed my dad, that is.”
    “Tell him you’re going shopping with me,” Yana suggested.
    “Problem. The guy’s in New Orleans. I don’t think I’ll be back until tomorrow,” Rae said.
    “Let me handle this,” Yana said. She’d been wearing her Hawaiian shirt knotted above her stomach, but she quickly undid the knot and smoothed the shirt down over her hip-hugging pink vinyl pants, covering up the DNA-strand tattoo that circled her belly button. “Okay, now, where’s Dad?”
    “He’s in his study,” Rae answered.
    “Take me,” Yana instructed, giving her collar-length blond hair