I don’t turn on my light when I enter, finding solace in the dark. Like always, Finn’s room is closed off to me—the shade drawn—the space between our houses a dark void. I stare out the window as I change, easing out of my jeans and sweater. Unhooking my bra. Everything is dropped in a pile on the floor and I reach for the T-shirt I sleep in. It’s an old college shirt of my mom’s, the cotton worn completely bare, but it’s perfectly soft.
I’ve just pulled it over my head when I see a glimmer of light in Finn’s window. A reflection? My heart pounds and I walk over, bending over the desk and peering out the window.
I see nothing. No one.
I shake my head, thinking maybe I’m confused.
My phone buzzes, skittering on my bed. I walk over and pick it up.
Ozzy: Get home okay?
Kenley: Yes, thanks for checking.
Ozzy: See you tomorrow.
Kenley: Night.
Ozzy: Night.
I put the phone down and glance back out the window. I should close the shade, but I don’t. I want Finn to know that I’m here for him—that my door, well window, is always open.
Even if he’s too scared to open his in return.
16
Ezra
Mrs. Gimple continues on with AP Lit like there’s not a crisis brewing outside these walls. Like the rest of the town hasn’t come to a full stop and a group of two hundred adults is out there combing the banks of the cove, looking for the body of our classmate.
I can’t help but wonder if they’d make the same effort for me?
I assess my fellow classmates, zeroing in on Finn two rows ahead. He came to school today even though out of everyone, he’d get an easy pass. The fact he skipped yesterday was an anomaly. Or maybe he’s like me, knowing that now is not the time to bring attention to yourself. Head down—hood up. That’s the way to proceed while shit is hitting the fan.
I shift my gaze to Juliette, who’s positioned her body in Finn’s direction. For all the crying she did yesterday, her peaches and cream complexion looks as smooth as ever. Since the day she arrived in Thistle Cove, she’s been a series of ticking bombs, each one going off in timely succession. The first was destroying the relationship with Rose and Kenley. The next, alienating everyone else that didn’t meet her standards. With every explosion, their status elevated. There was only one person with a higher profile than her—Rose.
Ozzy, to my left, is one of those that got the cut early on. Quirky and creative, he’d been Finn’s best friend since they were kids, despite the difference in interests. They had one of those yin-yang relationships that seemed to work. At least it did until they got to high school, and Ozzy’s differences made him a social liability. A little too smart and nerdy—not the kid Juliette or Rose would want tagging along.
I lean forward and check out Kenley. Jesus. That girl had no fucking clue how the school viewed her. She was Juliette’s biggest threat, and she eliminated her swiftly. I knew about the spray paint and the shitty words they’d scrawled across the front of her house. People tell me things—it’s like I’m a bartender or barber, but in this case I’m the drug dealer; we just hear stuff. People smoke up and bare their souls. They seek me out at parties and just fucking unload. Rose had been the one to confess that to me on the boat last summer. She was shit-faced and had spiraled into that weird sobbing mess girls get into once they’ve passed three drinks.
They always assume I’m high or drunk, but the truth is, I rarely use. Yesterday had been the first time in months. My dad had been serious about the motorcycle and the football team. I know when to cut my losses.
So when Rose told me about vandalizing Kenley’s house, everything clicked into place. Except one thing, she admitted it was her idea, not Juliette’s.
But that’s the thing about Kenley, she gets under your skin. I know she’s wiggled under mine, but it doesn’t matter. She’s got eyes for one guy, Finn Holloway, and that may have been Rose’s real motivation. Because Finn is like the rest of us. The way he looks at Kenley matches the way that Ozzy stares at her from a seat away, and the way I feel every time she’s near.
I’m thinking about all of this when the intercom over the whiteboard crackles to life.
“Excuse the interruption, but I need the following students to come to Mr. Russell’s office…Finn Holloway,” every eye in the room shifts to Finn, “and Kenley Keene.”
Finn and Kenley barely look at one another, although Juliette reaches across the aisle and squeezes Finn on the arm. I sink back in my seat, relieved and surprised it wasn’t my name called. It’s only a matter of time.
“Well, you two better head to the office,” Mrs. Gimple says. “You can check my website for the homework.”
I watch as Finn stands, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. At the door he waits a beat for Kenley to catch up. Still, neither say a word.
I’ve been to the office a dozen times, but Mr. and Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes definitely haven’t. Especially when the stakes are a missing classmate. The door clicks behind them and Ms. Gimple starts back up again, but I can’t focus. I know at any moment there will be an announcement calling me up to the office. I don’t know what Holloway and Kenley did to get called to the office, but I do know one thing; I was the last one to see Rose Waller before she went missing.