that?”
“You did. But thank you.”
He wanted to ask her more about Lacey, about what she was like in person and what kind of gossip people spread about her on Facebook, but he didn’t want to agitate her, so instead he turned to leave. “Well, I should go,” he said awkwardly. “I’ll let you talk to your friend.”
She pushed her hair back behind her ears. “It was nice to meet you, Jason. Sorry that got kind of weird. I get emotional sometimes.”
“It’s understandable. I’m sorry again. I’ll stop saying that.”
She laughed, and he smiled back. “Well, see you around.” He wondered if he should ask for her e-mail or something, but he remembered he was just supposed to be passing through the park. He waved awkwardly, and made his way back along the path.
When he got to the parking lot, he was sweating, even though it was still chilly out. He sat in his car for a few minutes without starting it. His beat-up blue Subaru had been joined by a gleaming black Mercedes, a beat-up Volkswagen, and a crimson Toyota. All of them were empty, but his guess was the Camry was Jenna’s. What had just happened with her? Jenna’s approach, her rushed outpouring of emotion about Lacey, it was all so strange and sudden. He’d come here searching for some kind of clue that Lacey was alive, and instead he’d found the person who was supposed to be closest to her in the world talking frankly about how she wasn’t.
When he put the key in the ignition he was overcome by the sensation that there was someone — or something — there with him. He scanned the rearview mirror, checking for company, and though he saw no one, his neck continued to prickle ominously. Leaning his head against the steering wheel, he whispered, “What’s the story, Lacey? What am I missing?” He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, but there was only silence.
J ason took the long way home so he could listen to the entirety of For Emma, Forever Ago . It seemed somehow appropriate — he knew Lacey liked Bon Iver, and it was the only thing he wanted to hear anyway. He turned the volume up as high as it would go, and when he pulled into his driveway and removed the key from the ignition an hour later, the peace was borderline eerie.
Grabbing his phone from the cup holder, he saw he had a new message. It was from Rakesh.
Bonfire at the bridge tonight. Can you drive?
Some nights he’d have said no, either to avoid playing chauffeur or because he didn’t feel like making small talk with people who looked right through him in the halls at school. But right now he’d give anything to get his mind off of Lacey.
Yeah, what time do you want me to pick you up?
Come at 7:30 — we can go to Michael’s before.
But when he got to his room, he sat very still on his bed and stared at his phone. Ever since he’d left Jenna, he’d been fighting the urge to call Lacey’s family again. It was like a scab he knew he shouldn’t pick at but he couldn’t help himself. He was finally starting to understand why pretty girls always went into the basement in horror movies, even when they had plenty of evidence that a masked murderer was lying in wait for them thesecond they got down the stairs. It felt a lot better than hiding under a bed. If he called Lacey’s parents, they were going to tell him she was gone, just like Jenna had, but there was something thrilling about your worst fears, and something powerful about ignoring them.
He scrolled through his recent contacts and put through the call to her house.
He got it out in one breath. “Hi. May I speak to Lacey?”
The voice on the other end was ragged when it finally answered. “Who is this?”
“My name is Keith McKeller.” It was the name of an aging hippie his aunt had dated briefly, and the first alias that popped into his head.
There was a sharp intake of breath, and then a weary exhalation. He could practically feel her father’s grief as he answered, “Keith, I don’t know
“You did. But thank you.”
He wanted to ask her more about Lacey, about what she was like in person and what kind of gossip people spread about her on Facebook, but he didn’t want to agitate her, so instead he turned to leave. “Well, I should go,” he said awkwardly. “I’ll let you talk to your friend.”
She pushed her hair back behind her ears. “It was nice to meet you, Jason. Sorry that got kind of weird. I get emotional sometimes.”
“It’s understandable. I’m sorry again. I’ll stop saying that.”
She laughed, and he smiled back. “Well, see you around.” He wondered if he should ask for her e-mail or something, but he remembered he was just supposed to be passing through the park. He waved awkwardly, and made his way back along the path.
When he got to the parking lot, he was sweating, even though it was still chilly out. He sat in his car for a few minutes without starting it. His beat-up blue Subaru had been joined by a gleaming black Mercedes, a beat-up Volkswagen, and a crimson Toyota. All of them were empty, but his guess was the Camry was Jenna’s. What had just happened with her? Jenna’s approach, her rushed outpouring of emotion about Lacey, it was all so strange and sudden. He’d come here searching for some kind of clue that Lacey was alive, and instead he’d found the person who was supposed to be closest to her in the world talking frankly about how she wasn’t.
When he put the key in the ignition he was overcome by the sensation that there was someone — or something — there with him. He scanned the rearview mirror, checking for company, and though he saw no one, his neck continued to prickle ominously. Leaning his head against the steering wheel, he whispered, “What’s the story, Lacey? What am I missing?” He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, but there was only silence.
J ason took the long way home so he could listen to the entirety of For Emma, Forever Ago . It seemed somehow appropriate — he knew Lacey liked Bon Iver, and it was the only thing he wanted to hear anyway. He turned the volume up as high as it would go, and when he pulled into his driveway and removed the key from the ignition an hour later, the peace was borderline eerie.
Grabbing his phone from the cup holder, he saw he had a new message. It was from Rakesh.
Bonfire at the bridge tonight. Can you drive?
Some nights he’d have said no, either to avoid playing chauffeur or because he didn’t feel like making small talk with people who looked right through him in the halls at school. But right now he’d give anything to get his mind off of Lacey.
Yeah, what time do you want me to pick you up?
Come at 7:30 — we can go to Michael’s before.
But when he got to his room, he sat very still on his bed and stared at his phone. Ever since he’d left Jenna, he’d been fighting the urge to call Lacey’s family again. It was like a scab he knew he shouldn’t pick at but he couldn’t help himself. He was finally starting to understand why pretty girls always went into the basement in horror movies, even when they had plenty of evidence that a masked murderer was lying in wait for them thesecond they got down the stairs. It felt a lot better than hiding under a bed. If he called Lacey’s parents, they were going to tell him she was gone, just like Jenna had, but there was something thrilling about your worst fears, and something powerful about ignoring them.
He scrolled through his recent contacts and put through the call to her house.
He got it out in one breath. “Hi. May I speak to Lacey?”
The voice on the other end was ragged when it finally answered. “Who is this?”
“My name is Keith McKeller.” It was the name of an aging hippie his aunt had dated briefly, and the first alias that popped into his head.
There was a sharp intake of breath, and then a weary exhalation. He could practically feel her father’s grief as he answered, “Keith, I don’t know
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