Vanishing Act Read Online Free PDF Page B

add a class or drop one?”
    â€œAdd one. What do you have open?”
    She glared hard at him, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening. He smiled apologetically, but it didn’t seem to help, her voice gruff as she read from her computer screen, “Auto Mechanics 101. German 200. Math 72, 82 and 120.” She rattled off a few other options before saying, “The rest have prerequisites. If you have your transcript, I canapprove you for the others. Otherwise, it’s too late for you to sign up for them.”
    He shrugged, uncertain of which class to sign up for. None of these options really suited his academic background. But he reminded himself he wasn’t in it for the education. Sure, his J.D.—actually his bachelor’s or master’s—qualified him for most of the classes offered at CCCC. But he wasn’t in it for the education.
    The lady on the other side of the desk strummed her fingers on the counter, her lips pursed unhappily.
    He needed to make a decision.
    Auto Mechanics 101? Danielle’s pretty face immediately popped to mind. It wasn’t very often he saw a cute mechanic, and there probably wouldn’t be anyone like her in the class. But it sounded pretty basic, and it could come in handy considering his recent car trouble. Plus it would be easier to talk to other students in the open forum rather than a typical lecture setting.
    â€œLet’s do the auto shop class.”
    Five minutes and one credit card swipe later, Nate was signed up for his first community college class that night. He just had time to get home, change clothes and grab a bite to eat before heading back for the class.
    Â 
    Danielle rubbed her forearms briskly through her light corduroy jacket. While it had been an unusually warm fall, a stiff breeze this evening brought a cold front and possible snow to the mountains according to the local weatherman. Hurrying toward the building that housed the auto shop, she prayed for courage.
    â€œLord, please give me Your strength.” Then silently she pleaded for safety. Being noticed was the first step to being recognized, and she couldn’t go back to her old life. Crescent City meant safety and anonymity, save the select fewfriends she’d made. But standing in front of a classroom took away that security.
    But she’d promised Andy.
    She clenched her fist to still the trembling before pushing at the large metal door with the number 102 stenciled above it. It squeaked loudly on its hinges.
    Great way to sneak in and hope the students wouldn’t notice her right away. She’d been hoping for a couple more minutes to bolster her courage, but every eye in the room turned on her as her work boots clomped on the cement floor and she walked toward the teacher’s desk.
    With one more silent plea for courage, she turned around and faced them. In her mind she had imagined them all scowling at her, but as she looked at the thirteen men and three women in the class, she saw mostly smiles and friendly nods.
    These were her Crescent City neighbors, built of the same stock as Andy. They shared grocery stores and gas stations, and she had probably worked on their cars. They weren’t Goodwill’s men, or even from Portland. They didn’t know about her past. They didn’t know about her dad’s murder in the alley.
    Just the thought of that night made her chest tighten and her heart speed up, but there was no time to dwell on the past or her part in letting her dad die.
    Taking another deep breath and forcing a smile, she greeted them. “Hello. My name is Danielle. I’ll be filling in for Andy for a couple of weeks while he’s out of town.” More friendly nods, but no one spoke. “Andy said that you were discussing spark plugs. Can anyone tell me what you’ve talked about so far?”
    A hand raised in the back row of tables, and she stepped to the side to get a better view of its owner. She pointedto him