Vanished (16 page)

“Last time I'm knocking,” Mom called out. “If you're
not up in five minutes I'm going to sic Dad on you.”

My eye sockets felt like they were filled with gravel. The blankets and sheets were wound around me like a straitjacket. I hadn't even washed the makeup off my face the night before. My jeans and top from the party lay in a clump by the closet. My normally orderly life was in chaos.

I sat up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Mascara was smeared under my eyes, making me look even more haunted. I got out of bed and started to put things where they belonged. With physical order restored, I could breathe a bit better.

My phone vibrated on the bed and I lunged for it.
Zach
.

You never said how the party went. Been waiting all night. Want deets! —B

I tossed my phone in my bag. I'd reply later. First I needed to talk to Zach.

I lurked in
front of Zach's locker after first period. He hadn't come to my locker before class, and I still hadn't heard from him, despite the two texts I'd sent this morning. I could feel my nerves fraying at the edges. Unraveling.

Warmth slid down my spine as soon as I saw him round the corner. He paused for a second when he saw me. I held out the bag I'd brought.

“My treat this time.” I shook the bag when he didn't reach for it. “Honey's. A fried pastry gesture of peace. Consider it a delayed breakfast.”

He took the bag but didn't open it. “I shouldn't have left you at the party without a ride. I'm sorry.” His words spilled out quickly. “I was out of line.”

I could tell he'd practiced his apology. Zach hated conflict.

Being with him was like flannel sheets on a cold night. Warm. Easy. We were going to work it out. I'd panicked for nothing. A couple unanswered text messages and I'd exaggerated it into a potential disaster. “Jason and Sara gave me a ride; it was fine,” I said.

“That doesn't make what I did okay.”

His hand that was holding the bag was tight. Almost a
fist. I would feel better if he would eat the donut.

“What isn't okay is how I've been treating you,” I said. I'd gone over in my head what I wanted to say too, but the words were now stuck in my throat, like they were mired in the thick toffee my grandma makes. I inched closer, hoping he would put his arms around me, making it easier, but he just stood there. “I haven't been myself, and I haven't been fair to you.”

“Kalah—”

“Listen,” I said, cutting him off. I could tell by the way he said my name, like it was covered in barbed wire, that I didn't want to hear what he was going to say next. “I've been really preoccupied, and really sad, but I need you.”

Zach closed his eyes like he didn't want to even look at me. “You don't need me.”

“Yes, I do,” I said. He had no idea how bad things had gotten. I couldn't handle a murderous Brit on my own.

Zach let out a breath. “But you
don't
need me, that's the problem. You keep me at a distance.”

My palms itched. I wanted to grab his vintage
Star Wars
T-shirt and refuse to let go. “I know I've been weird since all of this happened, but—”

“No. It's been longer than that. It started weeks before Beth took off. You were busy more often. You didn't want to talk, not about anything real. You'd kiss me, but it was like you weren't all there. Then Beth left and Britney died and I kept telling myself that I needed to be there for you.”

“And you were,” I said.

“But I need you to be here for me too!” He looked away.

Panic sliced through me like a shark fin through deep water. “It was just a stupid fight,” I said. “We can work through this.”

“I think we need some space.”

“I don't want space,” I said.

“But I do.” His voice seemed to echo off the metal lockers behind me.

I felt kicked in the gut. I wanted to reach over and touch him, but it was like there was a wall between us. “Oh.” My voice sounded small. “Are you breaking up with me?”

His mouth started to tremble and I felt a flash of hope when I saw tears in his eyes. He wasn't as done with me as he was acting. “This isn't easy for me,” he said. “This isn't what I want.”

“Then don't do it.”

He shook his head. I held up a hand to stop him from saying anything. He wasn't going to change his mind. He'd decided before I ever opened my mouth. All I could do was contain the discussion. Keep it from spiraling further away from me. If I lost him altogether, I wouldn't be able to make it. “Fine, we'll take a break. But don't say it's over. Not over, over. You're my best friend.” My voice cracked.

Zach looked resigned. “Okay. A break, not a breakup, but you have to know I can't be around you right now. I really do need space to think.”

I nodded quickly before he could change his mind. “Sure. Space.”

He held the Honey's bag back out to me. “You want this?”

“No. I got it for you.” The bell rang. People rushed past, but I was rooted in place.

“Take care, Kalah.”

“You too.”

I leaned against his locker when he was gone. I was in this on my own and I'd never felt more alone or scared.

I skipped class.
English didn't matter. I needed to keep the conversation with Britney going. I didn't want her to catch on that I knew she wasn't Beth. And I didn't want her to disappear on me again before I could make her pay. I needed to convince her to tell me where she was before word got out that the body had been found. Once the cops figured out that the body was Beth's, this dance would be over. I had to snare her before she thought to get away.

Sorry I didn't talk last night and give party update. Zach and I had a fight. I think we're breaking up
, I typed into the chat window.

Oh K, I'm soooo sorry. You'll get through this. Head high
.

For a second I actually felt a bit better. Like Brit was still my best friend and could make me forget the sting of Zach's words. As if I wasn't telling all of this to Beth's murderer.

How did the party go before that? Any excitement?

I closed my eyes and saw the roaches scurrying out of the bears. Heard the crunch of their bodies being crushed under foot. Brit wanted all the details. She wanted to know that her gift had been a hit. Screw her.

Nope, at least not that I noticed. I was too focused on things with Zach for most of it
.

The cursor pulsed silently.
Oh. At least tell me that Zach's not cheating
, Brit wrote.
I want to believe not every guy in the world is a dick
.

No. It wasn't anything like that
, I typed back.
He thinks I'm too consumed with missing Britney. That I wasn't spending enough time with him
.

Srsly? Now I am even more convinced you can do better. If Zach doesn't understand how important your girlfriends are then he's clueless
.

I wish Brit were here
, I typed, each word feeling like navigating a minefield.
She always had the best relationship advice. I would give anything for just one more day hanging out in her basement, for the comfort of that couch and her making me laugh. No slam on you, but she was amazing with this stuff
.

True, but I know what she would say. She'd tell you that you are going to be fine. That Zach's an idiot for not realizing what he had in you
.

The fan on my dresser swept the room blowing cold waves of air. The sound was oddly soothing.
Are you in driving distance?
I wrote.
Maybe I could come see you this
weekend, just a quick visit. I could really use a friend right now. I'm so sad about Zach and missing Brit so much
.

She paused.
Sorry, K. I wish we could
.

Remember the advice you told me that one time by the sand dunes? I keep trying to think of that
.

I can't remember what I said, but if it made you feel better then I'm glad
.

My heart folded in on itself, growing harder. I forced myself to type.
I guess I have to just believe I'll feel better until I finally do. What is it you always say? You believe as many as five impossible things before breakfast?

Exactly! That's the spirit
.

Gotta run, parents calling
. I clicked off and backed away from the computer as if it might explode.

Beth's all-time favorite quote from
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
was a line by the Queen of Hearts: “Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.”
Six
. Even though I knew it was true that this wasn't Beth, I couldn't stop poking at it.

Beth would have also remembered the sand dunes too. We'd gone out there just a few weeks before she left because she wanted to see if we could ride down the giant dune on a sled.

Beth always came up with crazy ideas like that. There was nothing she wouldn't try because she didn't care what other people thought. Beth just wanted to
do
things. To feel things. To suck the marrow from life the way we talked
about in English class. Maybe she felt like she had to live twice the life to make up for her brother, or maybe she just had no sense of fear.

I'd found Nadir's metal flying saucer sled buried under cobwebs in the garage and brought it with me. I thought it was a bad idea, but I would have agreed to any of her half-assed plans if it gave me a chance to be alone with her. I wanted to kiss her. Again and again and again.

At first it didn't seem like we'd both fit on the dented sled. It was like trying to seat two of us on a hubcap. Beth had wrapped her legs around me and we both were pushing with our hands, trying to get some momentum.

Suddenly we were skimming atop the sand, spinning in circles, gaining more and more speed. We hit a divot and wiped out. Sand went in my eyes and ground into my clothing. My arm burned where the sand had scoured away a layer of skin. We lay side by side catching our breath.

Beth was giggling. Her hair was half buried and her face was dirty. She was beautiful.

“That didn't go
well,” I said, spitting out a few grains
.

“That's where you're wrong,” she said. “It was perfect! Right up to the end.”

“You've got an odd way of looking at things,” I told her
.

“There are always bad bits,” she said. “It's about enjoying the good parts in spite of them.” Then she leaned forward and kissed me. She pulled back to wipe some sand from my cheek
.

I smiled. “I'm pretty sure that was a good bit.”

We laughed together and I leaned forward to kiss her again
.

Every memory of
Beth was like losing her all over again.

And I was going to figure out a way to make Britney pay for it.

When I woke up and realized it was Saturday, I was so
happy I almost burst into tears. NASA scientists should study the speed that gossip travels in the average high school. It had to be faster than light.

Yesterday the news that Zach had dumped me flew around the school. I didn't even bother explaining that we weren't broken up, we were on a break. But apparently neither did he.

History might have been the worst, because that class Zach and I had together. It's not like he ignored me, or demanded to change seats so we weren't next to each other, but I had no idea how awful it could be when someone you care about is extraordinarily polite to you. I had a new sharp
understanding of the term “killing someone with kindness.” Every time Zach gave me a stiff smile or said something vague and meaningless, like a conversation he would have with a stranger, it was like being punched all over again. I avoided him the rest of Friday as much as possible. It was the only way to survive.

Melissa and my other team members didn't say anything to me, though I was sure they said plenty
about
me. Not that I expected them to rush to my side in a show of girl power. I'd shut them out in the past few weeks, brushed off every offer to be one of them. Now I had to pay the price. I'd made myself stand up straight and pretend to be fine, pretend to need no one. It wasn't like I'd never been a school pariah before. But I'd never had to feel that way at Northside.

It had taken everything I had to get through the day. Every step down the hall I could feel whispers and pitying looks trailing after me. Rumors sticking to me like mud. I refused to let anyone see me hiding in the bathroom crying. I would act like it didn't bother me. Fake it until it was true.

Now that it was Saturday, all I wanted to do was stay in bed. Pull the covers over my head and never come out. But a waft of sugar and melted butter came from downstairs. My stomach rumbled. I'd skipped lunch on Friday and only picked at my dinner. I heard the clank of a pan on the stove.

I rolled out of bed and pulled on yoga pants. There was no point in being miserable, alone,
and
starving.

“I'm making French toast. You want a piece?” Dad said as I shuffled into the kitchen.

I nodded and pulled out one of the tall stools by the island to watch him work. He slid a plate over to me, the bread topped with warm bananas he'd caramelized on the stove. One of my favorites.

“Your mom told me about you and Zach breaking up.”

I looked down. I hadn't planned to tell my parents right away. Not only would they be concerned because I'd lost my first boyfriend, but also they might wonder how much more I could take before I snapped. I was wondering it too. They were already watching me like a bomb squad watches a suspicious package left on a train. It might be fine, but it might blow up, taking innocents out with it.

When I'd walked in the house yesterday and my mom had asked me how my day went, I'd burst into tears. The giant snot bubbles under the nose, hitching chest, sobbing kind of tears. So much for keeping things a secret. My mom had let me cry it out, rubbing my back in slow circles like she used to do when I was a kid.

“I know you liked him,” I said to Dad now. I used my fork to pick at my breakfast. My dad tossed a kitchen towel at my head. I tossed it back at him. “What's that for?”

“I did like Zach, but I'm crazy about you. What I want most of all is for you to be happy. How do you not know that?” He rolled his eyes. “And I had you pegged as the smart one in this family.”

“Well, that was your mistake right there. I could have told you it was Nadir.”

“Your brother is intelligent, but I still would have chosen you as the problem solver.” He attacked his French toast. “You want to watch some TV with me later? There's a
NOVA
marathon on and it's going to rain all day anyway.” My dad never met a show on PBS that he didn't love. He had a total man-crush on Neil deGrasse Tyson.

“Gosh, that sounds unmissable,” I said.

“I weep for future generations and your lack of interest in quality public television. Fine. Pick something you want to watch.”

“I don't know if I'm up for it,” I hedged.

“We can stay in our sweats all day, no shower. Make popcorn later. Maybe get your mom to go out and get us some ice cream.”

I mopped up the syrup with my French toast. At least a TV marathon with my dad sounded better than sitting alone in my room obsessing over losing Zach and what to do about Brit. And with the television on, at least my mom couldn't force me to sit around talking about my feelings. I didn't even know what I felt anymore. I was this giant sucking ball of anger and fear and despair all wadded together.

“I know you're doing this because you're trying to make me feel better,” I said.

Dad pointed his fork at me. “See? You
are
the smart one.”

I found myself smiling despite myself. “What about some reality TV?”

“Classic movies,” he countered.

“Animated,” I offered.

“Food channel,” he said.

“Sci-fi movies?”

“Sold!” Dad slammed his hand down on the counter like it was an auction. “Fire up Netflix and find us something good. Grab the mail too. Your mom is hoping your cousin's baby shower invite will be in there. I'll be in as soon as I finish the dishes.”

I shoved the last few bites in my mouth. I was stuffed. I went out the front door to grab the mail, flipping through the stack.

Amid all the bills and flyers for takeout there was a padded envelope addressed to me. There was no return address.

I turned the package over in my hand. My name was printed in tiny, precise block letters. There was a place where the ballpoint pen had torn into the paper slightly, exposing the plastic bubble-wrap liner.

My dad was humming in the kitchen, but he sounded so far away. Part of me wanted to take the package in to him, tell him that it scared me.

My dad had always taken my phobias seriously. When I was little he would carefully inspect under my bed and closet for monsters. He would encourage me to be rational,
remind me that I was only afraid because I was imagining the worst, but the worst almost never happens.

I knew, rationally, that I shouldn't be afraid of this package. It wasn't a bomb, or a bloody finger wrapped in a rag, even if it was from Brit. Britney thought I was on her side. There was no reason for her to send me a creepy care package of bugs. As Nadir would say, I was seeing zebras.

I tore the envelope open along the side. A wad of pink tissue paper plopped out. I unfolded it carefully. The tiny pocket watch pendant I'd given Beth dropped into my hand. The silver was cool to the touch at first, and then warmed to match my skin.

I shuddered as hard as if it had been a pile of centipedes in the package instead of a charm. I couldn't help but see it as a warning. This had been around Beth's neck. Britney must have pulled it off Beth's body.

I turned the silver pendant over with the tip of my finger. A pocket watch was a perfect symbol. I was running out of time.

After one movie
I begged off, telling my dad that I needed a nap so I could slip upstairs and be alone. I slid Beth's pendant onto one of my chains, and when I put it over my head, it hung right above my heart. That seemed fitting.

Maybe Brit sent it to be nice. Maybe she sent it as a warning. It didn't matter. It was mine now. I squeezed it to give me strength.

I sent a quick invite and waited.

Hey
.

I got your gift
, I typed.
I love it
.

I knew you would. You needed a pick-me-up after the mess with Zach. Besides, I felt bad about our conversation the other day. I was only thinking about myself, and you were focused on Britney. I thought this was a way to make it up to you
.

How generous of her to give away Beth's things. I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to figure out what Brit would want to hear. What would convince her to come home and get caught.
It's still so hard for me to believe she's dead
.

I know. She was a good friend
.

She was the best. But it's more than that. Brit was going to do big things. It's a loss for everyone, not just us. Think about what she could have accomplished at Cornell
.

She only got in because of her family
, Brit typed.

She got into Cornell because she deserved it! Maybe her family connections got her application to the top, but you and I both know Brit would have ruled that place by the time she graduated
.

She would have, wouldn't she?

Hell yeah. Cornell wouldn't have known what hit them. It's such a waste
, I said.
Speaking of, what are you going to do with yourself the next four years, and the next forty?

What are you, my mom?

Sorry, but won't things kind of suck for you in the future
without even a high school diploma? I know you weren't on a path to rule the world like Brit was, but it seems kind of dumb that you're giving up college and everything. I know you wanted to get away from things, but did you really end up someplace better?
I was laying it on thick, but I needed her to worry about those things if she wasn't already.
Oops, gotta go
, I wrote. I turned off the chat program. Let her stew on that for a while.

I leaned back against my pillows and rubbed the pocket watch pendant between my fingers.

Think about it, Brit. The world needs you. You can't disappear. C'mon, you bitch, imagine that we all can't live without you. Come back to us
.

Come back so I can get you
.