Nevertheless, when Kylie looked back, he was gone. Not Soldier Dude, but her dad. She turned toward the driveway and saw him shoving his suitcase in the backseat of his red convertible Mustang. Mom had never liked that car, but Dad loved it. Kylie ran to the car. "I'l make Grandma talk to Mom. She'l fix..." No sooner had the words escaped Kylie's lips than she remembered the other major sucky event she'd had plopped into her life.

She couldn't run to Grandma to fix her problems anymore. Because Grandma was dead. Gone. The vision of Nana lying cold in the casket fil ed Kylie's head and another lump crawled up her throat.

Her dad's expression morphed into parental concern, the same look that had landed Kylie at the shrink's office three weeks ago.

"I'm fine. I just forgot." Because remembering hurt too much. She felt a lone tear rol down her cheek. Dad moved in and hugged her. The embrace lasted even longer than his usual hugs, but it ended too soon. How could she let him go? How could he leave her?

His arm dropped from around her and he physical y set her back. "I'm just a phone cal away, Pumpkin."

Swiping at her tears, hating her watery weakness, she watched her dad's red convertible get smal er as it buzzed down the street. Wanting to be alone in her room, she started to run inside. Then she remembered and looked back across the street to see if Soldier Dude had pul ed his usual disappearing act.

Nope. He was stil there, staring, stalking. Scaring the bejeebies out of her and making her angry at the same time. He was the reason she had to see a shrink.

Then Mrs. Baker, her elderly neighbor, toddled out to get her mail. She smiled at Kylie but not once did the old librarian glance at Soldier Dude taking up residence on her front lawn, even when he stood less than two feet from her.

Weird.

So weird it sent an unnatural chil tiptoeing down Kylie's spine, the same kind of chil Kylie had gotten at Nana's funeral. What the hel was going on?

Chapter Two

An hour later, Kylie walked down the stairs with her backpack and purse over her shoulder.

Her mom met her in the entryway. "Are you okay?"

How could I be okay? "I'l live," Kylie answered. More than she could say about Grandma. Right then, Kylie had a vision of the bright purple lipstick the funeral home had put on her grandmother. Why didn't you take that off of me? Kylie could almost hear Nana asking. Weirded out by the thought, Kylie looked back at her mother.

Her mom stared at Kylie's backpack and her worry wrinkle appeared between her eyes. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"You said I could spend the night with Sara. Or were you too busy gril ing Dad's shorts to remember?"

Her mom ignored the gril ed-shorts comment. "What are you two going to do tonight?"

"Mark Jameson is having an end-of-school party." Not that Kylie felt like celebrating the event. Thanks to Trey dumping her and her parents divorcing, Kylie's whole summer was headed for the toilet. And the way things were going, someone was going to walk by and flush it.

"Are his parents going to be there?" Mom raised one dark eyebrow.

Kylie flinched emotional y, but physical y didn't blink. "Aren't they always?"

Okay, so she lied. Normal y she didn't go to Mark Jameson's parties for that very reason, but blast it, look where being good had gotten her. She deserved to have some fun, didn't she?

Besides, hadn't her mom lied when her dad asked about his underwear?

"What if you have another dream?" Her mom touched Kylie's arm.

A quick touch. That's al Kylie ever got from her mom these days. No long hugs like her dad gave. No mother/daughter trips. Just aloofness and quick touches. Even when Nana, her mom's mom, died, Kylie's mom hadn't hugged her and Kylie had real y needed a hug then. But it had been her dad who'd pul ed her into his arms and let her smear mascara on his suit coat. And now Dad and al his suit coats were gone. Drawing in a gulp of oxygen, Kylie clutched her purse. "I warned Sara I might wake up screaming bloody murder. She said she'd stake me in the heart with a wooden cross and make me go back to bed."

"Maybe you should hide the stakes before you go to sleep." Her mother attempted to smile.

"I wil ." For one brief second, Kylie worried about leaving her mom alone on the day her dad had left. But who was she kidding? Her mom would be fine. Nothing ever bothered the Ice Queen.

Before walking out, Kylie peered out the window to make sure she wouldn't be assaulted by a guy wearing army duds. Deeming the yard to be free of stalkers, Kylie ran out the door, hoping that tonight's party would help her forget just how badly her life sucked.

* * *

"Here. You don't have to drink it, just hold it." Sara Jetton pushed a beer into Kylie's hands and ran off. Sharing elbow room with at least thirty kids, al packed into Mark Jameson's living room and talking at once, Kylie clutched the ice-cold bottle. Glancing around at the crowd, she recognized most of them from school. The doorbel rang again. Obviously, this was the place to be tonight. And according to every other kid at her high school, it was. Jameson, a senior whose parents never seemed to care what he did, held some of the wildest parties in town.

Ten minutes later, Sara stil MIA, the party shifted into ful swing. Too bad Kylie didn't feel like swinging along with them. She frowned at the bottle in her hand.

Someone bumped into her shoulder, causing the beer to splash on her chest and run down in the V of her white blouse. "Crap."