Cheryl knew she shouldn’t be there, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the dresser or her hand away from her mouth. Not even when she heard movement behind her.
“What are you doing in Jeremy’s r—oh holy cheese on crackers, what the hell is that?”
Cheryl could only shake her head. Finally, she lowered her hand and found her voice. “Do you think it’s maybe some kind of art project?”
She looked over at Brandon, who’d come to stand next to her and looked to be having much the same reaction she’d had. “Jeremy doesn’t take any art classes. This is disturbing. I’m very disturbed.”
“Maybe he’s in an art club?”
“Maybe. Yeah. Let’s go with that.” He backed slowly toward the door, pulling her along with him. Cut off by a slamming door, they spun around.
“What are you doing in my room?”
Cheryl pointed lamely toward his alarm clock. “Your alarm went off.”
“Sorry.” Jeremy opened the door.
“Hey, cool art project,” Brandon offered.
Jeremy just stared blankly. “What art project?”