Snared Read Online Free PDF Page B

She grabbed the binoculars and went up to her room.
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    Lindsay stood next to the window seat, adjusting the binoculars, focusing on the window of the house next door, but she didn’t see the boy. The light was out in his room and not so much as a shadow moved. After a few minutes, she felt like a perv, and hid the binoculars under the green cushion before logging onto the web. She surfed around for a while, but the long day had exhausted her, and soon enough she turned off her computer and crossed the hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
    Ten minutes later, she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. The house was so quiet she could hear music playing next door. It was strange. It sounded New Agey, with the muffled chime of bells and a small drum being rapped beneath a moaning melody like chanting. Maybe the kid’s grandparents were hippies or something. Her friend Trey’s grandparents were like that. They wore headbandsand said things like “groovy,” “peace,” and “far out” a lot. They really liked a place called Woodstock and a band called Happy Dead or something like that. Of course, Lindsay had no idea what that band sounded like. They might be just like the odd monotone voices she was hearing, punctuated by chimes and drums. They probably were.
    Don’t let it be his music , she thought. How sad would that be? A hot guy who listened to decaf tunes? That would be tear-worthy.
    The moaning chant rose in volume, sounding deep and ominous.
    Then a cry pierced through the muffled music. It sounded like someone was in pain. And it didn’t seem to be part of the drum and chant song. Lindsay looked at the window, worried. Did someone outside need help?
    Is it part of the song?
    Afraid, Lindsay curled up tightly under the covers. The sound didn’t come again, though she strained to hear. After a while, the music stopped and the night grew silent. Then she rolled over, faced the wall, and waited for sleep to come.

3
    Lindsay woke to sunshine, the fear of the night forgotten. A wedge of golden light fell through the window, cutting a swath across the room and the end of her bed. Her parents moved around in their room at the other end of the hall. She heard their footsteps and their voices. Her mom giggled, and her dad made a growling noise. Lindsay did her best to ignore them. She felt great. Rested. Clear-headed. She wanted to pretend she was alone in this house and shared the beach with no one but the boy next door.
    Lindsay rolled over and snuggled deeper into the quilt. He would be hot, she decided. No way did he listen to that hippie music. He would beyoung and cool and totally into extreme sports. A guy didn’t get a body like that by playing video games all day. He was probably at the beach to surf. So cool. And he wouldn’t be one of the immature guys she met at school. He’d be an adult, but not too old. He’ll be perfect, she thought. Just perfect.
    When she finally left her fantasy behind and got out of bed, she powered up her laptop and cast a glance out the window. No one moved in the yard or behind the windows of the rundown house. Disappointed, she grabbed her robe and put it on. Downstairs she found her parents in the kitchen again, only this time they weren’t macking all over each other. That was a relief.
    They exchanged good mornings and her dad, still smiling, asked if she’d slept well.
    â€œPretty good,” she replied, heading directly for the coffeepot.
    â€œIt’s the sea air.”
    â€œMmmm,” Lindsay replied, already deeply involved with her first cup of bean.
    â€œI’m fixing pancakes,” her mom said.
    â€œMom,” Lindsay said, “you know I don’t eat breakfast.”
    â€œYou’re on vacation.”
    â€œTry to convince my thighs,” Lindsay said. “Thanks anyway. Coffee is fine.”
    She took her coffee upstairs and carried it to the window seat. After getting