“Thank you.”
Her eyes dart to my mouth, and I know if I kissed her right now, she’d let me. Why wouldn’t she? I played the whole white knight, looking out for her virtue, I called her sexy and sweet. But I’m here to help her not get manipulated, not manipulate her myself.
I stand and offer her my hand, and she blinks at it, slowly realizing I’m not going to take this any further. Who’s going against type now?
We head back to the bike and I let her keep my jacket. We go through the motions of me helping her back into her helmet, getting on the bike, feeling her arms wrap around my waist.
As I drive back home, I know there’s few things I can offer Kenley. I’m not Finn or Ozzy. I’m not some kid with a bright future that can give KK everything she needs and deserves. What I can do is protect her from people like myself. Like my father. Like the shady scum that preys on the vulnerable.
I can’t give her much, I think, racing toward the lights, but I can give her that.
33
Ozzy
A week has passed since Rose Waller didn’t show up for school. The effects are all around us. Posters tacked around town with her smiling face. Rose-colored ribbons affixed to collars, blouses, and backpacks. But it’s also been long enough that everyone has started to grow a little numb, the tears all cried out. The terrible truth is just under the surface. Rose is probably not coming back.
It’s noticeable during AP Lit.
Finn didn’t talk to us when he walked in this morning—still pissed about Kenley making the SugarBabies account. Out of good faith, I sent him the link. It’s not active yet. It’s up to her to decide when to push the button. I’ll support her when she does. She’s just trying to do what she needs to do to ease her guilt.
She sits in front of me and I count the freckles on her shoulder. Ezra’s one seat over, face resting on his arm, half-asleep. Juliette’s chatter bounces through the room. She’s got Finn’s attention back. Just how she likes it.
Ms. Gimple stands in front of the class, Moby Dick held in one hand, and her mouth half open when twenty phones buzz at the same time.
She lifts an eyebrow like she’s waiting for someone to break the news.
Kenley t
urns, looking back at me, her phone unopened in her hand. It’s like the whole room is afraid to look.
“Oh my god,” Juliette says, staring down at her phone.
“Uh,” Ezra says. His eyes dart to Finn.
Before anyone else says anything, reads anything, there’s a knock on the classroom door. Chief McMichael walks in, followed by Detective Jones and Belcher.
“Son,” he says to Finn, “we need you to come with us.”
Kenley shoots out of her seat. “Is he being arrested?”
The Chief doesn’t answer, just takes Finn’s bag from him and walks out the door.
The room falls into a brief moment of silence—then the phones start to chime again. Another alert. This time, everyone looks.
“The video surfaced over the weekend of boyfriend and football star Finn Holloway, having an intense argument with missing girlfriend Rose Waller a few days before she went missing.”
Janice Hill’s face cuts away and a grainy black and white video appears. It’s hard to make out but one thing is clear; it’s of Finn and Rose standing by her VW Bug, next to the gas pumps at the Gas & Go. They’re standing across from one another, there’s no volume, but they’re obviously in an intense discussion. Finn’s hands are tugging at his hair. Rose’s are on her hips. Her face is angry. His upset. In a flash he reaches out and grabs her neck and just as quickly turns away.
“As you can tell in the video, submitted to police anonymously,” Janice explains, “the high school couple had a public argument at the gas station on Main Street. From the looks of it, Finn Holloway may have even been violent. According to police records, this is not the first time he and Rose were seen arguing prior to her disappearance. That being said, Mr. Holloway’s whereabout during the time she went missing are well documented, since he was at the bonfire at the school.”
I shut off the video. We’ve watched it ten times now out by the back door that leads to the football field. Ezra is dressed out and ready for practice, his football helmet clutched in his hands.
“Did you call your Dad?” I ask Ezra.
He nods. “He said he’d call Mr. Holloway and make sure Finn kept his mouth shut until he got there.”
Mr. Baxter isn’t a criminal lawyer, but he’s better than nothing.