Need by Joelle Charbonneau Page B

. . . what are the police doing here? Did something else happen?”
    â€œNothing happened,” my mother snaps. “Nate isn’t staying and you, DJ, are going back upstairs.”
    DJ yells at Mom that Nate has every right to be here. Nate apologizes for not calling to make sure it was okay for him to come over. He says my name. But I say nothing as I wait for Officer Shepens’s reaction. When he frowns, I turn the screen back around and try to understand what I’m seeing.
    The Internet connection is still working.
    The Web address is correct.
    But the screen is black.
    NEED is gone.

Sydney
    â€œI’ LL BE THERE in a minute, Dad.” Get a grip. It’s not like there’s any hurry. Sydney’s dad insists they salt the sidewalks and driveways for the properties he represents every weekend.
    â€œOpportunities can be lost if you aren’t paying attention. You never know when a prospective buyer is going to drive by and call for a closer look.”
    â€œNever” is right. So far it has never happened. But every Saturday morning they have to go out and make sure each house is ready for the phantom people who will want to see it. His dad says it’s good business. His dad is wrong. Good business pays money, and as far as Sydney can tell, his dad hasn’t pulled a paycheck since early December. But Sydney has.
    Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out the envelope he found under a pile of boards near the shed. Just where NEED said it would be. Five hundred dollars. Not a bad payday for the job Sydney was asked to do. More should be on its way, now that he’s finished the most recent assignment, and more after that if things work out the way he hopes.
    Sydney shuts down his computer and stashes the envelope of cash in the drawer along with his knife.
    â€œCome on, Sydney,” his dad calls. “Time is money.”
    Yes. Yes, it is. Sydney smiles as he locks the drawer. Unlike his dad, he plans on making money. Lots of it. No matter what it takes.

Hannah
    H ANNAH SWIPES THE BOTTOM of her nose with the back of her hand and looks around for the Kleenex she just had. Where did it go?
    There. She picks up the crumpled tissue and checks her cell phone just in case. Nate still hasn’t returned her call. Calling his house today was a terrible move. He must think so too; otherwise he would have texted an apology for missing her call, or called her back.
    Something.
    Anything.
    Unless Jack didn’t give Nate the message. She should have called Nate’s cell phone, of course, but she was too upset to pay attention to what number she had dialed until Jack picked up. If only she’d hung up then. But Nate and Jack sound a lot alike on the phone, and she had poured her heart out about how life is short, and she didn’t want to regret not telling him how she felt, before Jack interrupted and filled her in on her mistake.
    How mortifying. And now if she dials Nate’s cell and Jack already told him about the first call, she’ll look desperate on top of looking like an airhead. She wishes she could take it back. She was an idiot to call after learning about Amanda’s death. But the shock and the sadness made her think about how much she wanted to be with Nate.
    And how lame is it that her first thought wasn’t for Amanda and the life she’ll never lead, or for her family, who have to be so devastated? Instead, she focused on herself. No wonder Nate isn’t interested. Why would any guy want a girl who can’t grieve for a friend without freaking out about the inadequacies of her own life?
    She needs a do-over. Or a rock to crawl under. She doesn’t want to face Nate or anyone else right now. School next week is going to suck, and not just because she hasn’t been able to force herself to read that stupid book.
    Ah. There she goes again. Thinking of herself. Still . . . she can’t help but wonder if NEED can actually