The Green Door Read online

  Brek already had one foot out the door. “What are you doing? If we hurry, we can make that football game you’ve been wanting to watch.”

  I ignored him and checked to make sure Ricky was in the back before ripping the flyer down and stuffing it into my bag.

  I flopped down on my bed and stared at the wrinkled paper before I picked up my phone.

  Do you believe in fate?

  I texted the words to Brek knowing he’d immediately serve me some flack on a silver platter. But to me it did seem like fate. A serious way to earn money weeks before graduation.

  Like how we’ve always been perfect for each other?

  My fingers flew over the screen.

  Shut up. This is serious.

  I loosened my braids waiting for him to give me any kind of serious response. It was mostly my fault. My flippant remarks for the majority of our relationship made it impossible for him to take me seriously. Using a mental sticky note, I scribbled myself a reminder: Have more serious conversations with your best friend.

  What’s up, Meg?

  Maybe he was ready to be serious. He had literally never called me Meg.

  Meet me at the spot in five.

  K

  I raced down the stairs and grabbed my coat from the bannister.

  “Where are you going?” Dad sat at the kitchen table with a stack of bills in front of him. It appeared higher than the week before. “You have homework?”

  “Finished it at school,” I said reaching for the door handle. “Going to meet Brek.”

  “Come here.”

  I gave him my best angst-filled teenage groan before dragging myself to the card table. Brek was waiting. I didn’t have time for this. “What Dad?”

  Beyond the extra bills on the table, he seemed to have developed extra wrinkles. He ran a hand through his blonde hair and readjusted his glasses. “I never see you anymore.”

  Not the guilt trip. Didn’t he understand that I was the sole supporter of this family—even if it was just the two of us? Besides, he had a riveting night of bills and television ahead of him. He wouldn’t miss me one bit. “I’ve got important stuff to talk about with Brek. I won’t be out late.”

  He lifted another bill and stuck his finger in the seam to rip it open. “Ok. But let’s have dinner together tomorrow night. I want to continue our talk about next year.”

  Dad had mentioned some kind of low-income grants from the government. I had told him they were probably for students who actually applied themselves to their studies. I didn’t have time to think about that right now.

  “Sure.” I slammed the front door before running to our place. The quiet hideaway in the woods, down the crumbling stone steps to the stream. A road ambled by above over a bridge, but cars seldom passed this way. It didn’t lead anywhere interesting for most people.

  In the light of my cellphone, I saw Brek sitting on the last step tossing pebbles into the water. He paused when he heard my footfalls on the steps above. “Fate, huh?”

  I removed the flyer from my pocket as I settled in next to him. “Can you hold the light?”

  He took my phone and shined it on the flyer as I read.

  “Are you looking for adventure, riches, or an escape from the doldrums of life? Then this is the game for you. Looking for a few exceptional men and women to play. The game is ready when you are.”

  He moved in closer reading the words again. “What does it mean, the game is ready when you are? Is it some kind of Iron Man competition?”

  “I don’t know.” There were only two reasons I was interested in this flyer. The first reason was Carter was interested. In our brief interaction, he fascinated me. The second had to do with the riches. It had to do with a large amount of money. If I could graduate high school with some serious cash in my pocket, I might actually attend community college. Maybe I could actually have a future that didn’t involve wiping down counters or unpacking boxes. It was worth looking into. I traced my finger along the bottom of the page. “It has an address here.”

  “Seventy Oak Street? Isn’t that…?”

  “The Rosenbaum Manor.” I shuddered at the thought of the creepy mansion. Definitely not on the south side. Mentally, I turned the pros and cons over and over in my head.

  A gust of wind blew through our glen as I watched Brek’s face in the light of the full moon. His lips lifted into a grin. “Maybe this our break. It sounds like our kind of awesome.”

  “I was kinda hoping you’d say that.” The thought of winning the money I needed, that my dad needed, lifted me to a place I hadn’t been in years. “Do you want to go Saturday?”

  “If it means we can earn you the money to go to college, not even a Guns and Roses concert could keep me away, Covington.”

  2

  They say the universe has a way of putting an exclamation mark on your obsessive train of thoughts. Like the time my dad made me watch Nightmare on Elm Street and red and brown striped sweaters jumped out at me everywhere. The next day at school, I couldn’t seem to avoid Carter Reyes.

  The first spotting was right before my lit class as I came out of the restroom. Carter had his hand flat against a locker as he leaned in to a brunette cheerleader. He nuzzled her neck as she giggled with her glossed lips. I wanted to gag, but instead I ducked my head and scurried off to class.

  Later, in homeroom, the TV screen flashed with the latest school news. Apparently, every other story involved Carter. Carter Reyes scores the winning touchdown… Carter Reyes makes All-State… Carter Reyes can kiss my ass.

  What could have easily turned into an obssession with the Worthington High School god had suddenly withered away into nothing. He was too high and mighty to deserve my attention, to deserve my admiration, to deserve… oh, God. He was standing in front of my locker.

  “Hi.” He flashed his pearly whites. His dark hair swept slightly across his forehead. “Meg, right?”

  In a nervous habit, I pushed strands of my hair behind my ears before I shoved past him to open my locker. “Yeah, and you’re Kevin… right?” There was no way I was going to let him know my thoughts gave him the time of day.

  “Carter.” He appeared almost offended that I didn’t remember his name.

  “Oh, yeah.” I checked my reflection in my tiny, locker mirror before slamming the door shut. “Is there something wrong with your Beatles album?”

  “No.” He raised an eyebrow as if he suddenly realized I did remember him. “There was a flyer in the entryway of the record store. Do you know who hung it there?”

  “Do I look like the flyer police?” I kept moving to prove to him that I wasn’t willing to drop everything and fawn all over him like most girls.

  “Meg…” He grabbed my jacket, so I spun around and gave him my best let go of my jacket or I’ll have to pummel you look. He let go, his brown eyes curious. “It’s a game. I’m not sure of the exact details, but I was wondering if you wanted to check it out with me. You know, see what it’s all about.”

  “Why don’t you take the supermodel you had up against the locker earlier today? I’m sure she’d get a rise out of it.” I slipped into the girl’s room to get rid of him, but guilt hit me hard. I didn’t want to treat him like that. Why’d he want me to go with him anyway? It’s not like he knew me, or anything.

  Dropping my bag, I ran the cold water in the sink and splashed my face. If I was going to check out this game, it was going to be with Brek, not some good-looking stranger.

  That evening, I lay on Brek’s floor throwing his Nerf basketball up against the wall and contemplated the game. “The flyer didn’t mention what to bring. Should I wear my hiking boots or my Vans?”

  “It’s probably one of those Amazing Race kind of competitions where you run around and try to complete tasks before everyone else. You should probably bring your phone in case they want photo evidence.”

  “Then if we’re racing, I’ll wear my Vans. I’ll bring a couple of snacks in case it’s an all day thing. You know how you tur
n into a grump when you’re hungry.”

  “True.” He flexed his muscles beneath his t-shirt. “I’ve got to keep up this runner’s physique.”

  “You mean tall and skinny as a twig?” I threw the ball at him and he caught it in one hand.

  He was well built for a cross-country runner, but I’d never admit it to him. His dad passed away last year from cancer, but he had Brek hauling wood from the moment he could walk.

  My phone rang on the floor next to me. I flopped over and reached for it, but didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

  “Meg?” The voice was vaguely familiar.

  “Yeah, who’s this?”

  Brek crouched down next to me ready to spy on my conversation.

  “It’s Carter… um, you know, Kevin.”

  My body tensed. It was one thing for him to talk to me at school, but to search out my number. Maybe he was a stalker disguised as a high school senior. “Oh, yeah. Hi, Kevin.” I rolled my eyes at Brek.

  There was silence on the other line for several moments. Carter obviously didn’t appreciate my joke. “I know what you think of me, but I really want you to be my partner in this game.”

  “Why me? You don’t even know me.”

  “I know you’re smart…”

  “Ha! That proves that you don’t know me. I think I’ve got straight Cs and Ds.” I got up and flopped down on Brek’s bed. He got up to rummage through his closet, trying to appear as if he wasn’t listening.

  “Not that kind of smart, Covington.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Now he was really trying to tick me off. I only reserved that privilege for one person.

  “Sorry, Meg. I’ve watched you for a while. You know how to take care of yourself. The girl you saw me with in the hallway has no clue. She’s been fed with a silver spoon all her life.”

  “And why do you want to compete in this game, anyway?” I stretched my legs out ready to hear about how he needed the cash to buy himself a new Jaguar.

  “I need to prove myself to my parents. They think all I’m good for is throwing a football. I want them to know I can take charge of my own life.”

  “Liar.” I coughed the word, and Brek smiled. “It’s all about the cash, I’m sure.”

  “You can think what you want about me.” Carter’s voice took on an edge. “Are you going to be my partner or not?”

  “Not.” I clicked my phone off and threw it on the bed.

  “Someone’s got a crush on you.” Brek kept his back to me as he packed a bag for tomorrow’s adventure.

  “Shut up.” I grabbed my phone and headed to the door. “He just wants me for my skills.”

  “Covington, I’m a guy. You don’t push so hard for something unless you really want it. And he really wants it.”

  Oh, Brekken. Do you really want to deal with my wrath tonight?

  I reached up and tore one of his supermodel posters off the wall shoving it in the trashcan before I marched down the hall. If Brek and I were going to be teammates in whatever we were doing tomorrow, he better start showing me that he was on my side.

  Following a mad texting apology session around midnight, I fell into a fitful sleep. My nightmares were filled with dark places, crypts, and confining places I couldn’t escape. I threw my blankets off suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Murphy, my calico, jumped up on my bed and nuzzled his head into my arm, purring. It was early, but Brek planned on meeting up at the Hungry Bear for breakfast.

  Unable to contain the excitement anymore, I pulled on a pair of jeans, a plain blue t-shirt, and my Ohio State sweatshirt. In my bag, I threw an extra shirt, pants, underwear, and socks. You can never be too prepared. My phone buzzed at eight on the dot.

  “Where are you?” It was just Brek’s grumpy, hungry nature kicking in.

  “Give me a second to let Dad know where I’m going.” I slung my bag over my shoulder and took the stairs two at a time.

  “You’re going to tell him?”

  “Really? You know me better than that.”

  Dad was in the kitchen cooking something on the stove. Unusual. “Hey. I thought I’d cook us breakfast and maybe we could catch a movie later.” He wore his plaid robe and his glasses perched on top of his head. He turned slightly to look at me. “Oh … are you going out?”

  “Yeah, you know how Brek’s been wanting to check out that hike by the falls. I told him I’d go today.” I crossed the kitchen and pecked him on the cheek. “Maybe next weekend?”

  “I’ve got that interview at the mine, but we’ll do it some other time.” He set his spatula on the counter before reaching up and touching my hair. “You know you’re looking more and more like your mom every day.”

  My gut tied in knots. This was not a conversation I was ready to have, especially with Brek waiting for me outside. “I know, I know you always say I got her beauty and her brains.” I shook my head and went straight for the door.

  “Geez, Covington. I was about ready to die of starvation out here.” Brek stood next to his beat-up blue truck. He’d managed to scrape together two hundred bucks to buy it from a farmer on the outskirts of town. It made a ton of noise, but it got us from point A to point B in one piece. He wore his jeans, but swapped out his letterman jacket for his warmer coat.

  I climbed into the passenger seat shoving over a healthy pile of fast food trash. “You’re withering away so fast, you might disappear any second.”

  Ignoring me, Brek cranked the radio up belting out the lyrics to some song from an eighties metal band. I refused to interrupt his jam sessions, but instead kept my sarcastic comments to myself like I think Brett Michaels is your long, lost soul mate or do you need a little hair with your Metallica?

  The drive from the Hungry Bear to the Rosenbaum place took all of five minutes. I stared down at my knees as Brek parallel parked in a spot across the street.

  He reached across and unbuckled my seatbelt. “This is going to be fun. And who knows, maybe we can win a few bucks.”

  “But what if the person who hung the poster at Spinners is really a psychotic killer trying to lure unsuspecting teens?” I grabbed on to his coat with both hands. “I had these dreams last night of vampire-like creatures.”

  “Do you really think there are vampires in the Rosenbaum house?” He unlocked his door and stepped out of the truck. “I always took you for more of a realist. After all, you were the one who told me that Santa Claus wasn’t real.”

  “Because you were in fifth grade and telling me that you heard reindeers hooves on your roof.” I drew in a deep breath and unlocked my own door. Dread filled my body at the thought of putting him through this, but I didn’t know how to express it to Brek with his whatever attitude.

  The stairs leading up to the front door of the mansion were carved out of a white marble with streams of black cutting through. A large, wooden door with an enormous knocker probably turned away most visitors, but most visitors didn’t have what it took to play the game.

  I hid behind Brek as he used the iron ring to knock on the door. Shuffling my feet, I mentally counted down in my head. Ten … nine … eight … seven … how long would Brek wait? Would he let us walk away empty handed? Six … five … four … the giant door creaked open. Dang.

  The woman standing in the doorway reminded me of Betty White from the Golden Girls, just not as innocent. She held a clipboard and a frown as she inspected us from head to toe. Her eyes rested first on the blue streak in my hair and then on the diamond stud in my nose. “Are you here for the game?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Brek stiffened his back making me wonder if he thought we were signing up for boot camp. And when did he start using the word ma’am?

  “Follow me.”

  She led us down the hall past massive entryways into formal living spaces all ornately decorated. One piece of artwork on the walls of this manor could probably feed my dad and I for months. We reached a room full of leather furniture like a lawyer’s office from a movie I once saw.

  “Have a
seat,” Betty White said. “When it is determined if you are worthy, the game will begin.” She left the room and closed the door.

  “What does she mean if we’re worthy?” Brek twisted around in his chair perhaps to see if there was anyone else in the room. “Of course, we’re worthy.”

  “I’m sure it’s some kind of test to see if we’ll break. Kind of like in the Neverending Story where Atreyu is forced to face his true self to see if he goes mad. I bet this is a madhouse and this Rosenbaum guy wants to add us to his collection of crazies.” I knew my rambling annoyed Brek and I hoped we’d get to leave because this place was beginning to give me the creeps.

  “If we want to play the game, we’ve got to stay calm.” Brek’s teeth were clenched. “They want people who won’t break under pressure.”

  “Then what are you doing here? Because last year at the junior prom I remember the sweat marks under your pits when you wanted to ask Sarah Michaels to dance. Man, you stank.” I plugged my nose for emphasis as he stood up and inspected the walls.

  Two of the four walls were covered with bookshelves and the other two held the doorway and a wall of windows. Brek pulled book after book off the shelf, but no secret passages opened. Instead of taking the Nancy Drew route, I picked up the piece of paper left on the desk.

  “You’ve passed the first test.” I read the words out loud and Brek ran over abandoning his pursuit of passages. “But the game weeds out the incompetents on its own.” I gave Brek a quick punch in the arm. “I guess that leaves you out.”

  “Funny.” His mouth was set in a straight line as he snatched the paper out of my hand. “When you are led to the chamber with your partner, you must choose a door. Within the door you will find an item I seek. Bring the item to me to claim your reward. But take heed, the larger the dollar amount, the more difficult the task. You may start where you will, but few will be successful. Mortimer Rosenbaum.”

  “What kind of creepy crap is this?” The paper was once again in my hand as I scanned it for any validity. “What if this is some kind of gas chamber where this Rosenbaum guy kills hordes of teenagers? They still use them in the military, you know.”