SPIN

Home > Other > SPIN > Page 9
SPIN Page 9

by K. J. Farnham


  “Hey, Dad?” Jenna asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is it okay with you if I go mini golfing with Dustin tonight?”

  Bonnie spun around and gave Jenna a hard stare.

  “Other people will be there too,” Jenna quickly added. Whether it ended up being true or not, Jenna didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t likely her mom was going to follow her around spying on her. The thought initially made Jenna laugh to herself, but her amusement quickly morphed into an overwhelming sense of disappointment, because maybe if her mom had been a little more vigilant when Jenna was little, she wouldn’t be scared to death to see her cousin Thomas at the party the next day.

  “Ahh . . . I don’t see why not. But you know the deal. Just make sure you’re home by eleven.” He smiled at Jenna and began eating.

  “And would it be okay with you guys if Dustin goes to the party tomorrow afternoon?” Jenna blurted.

  “Sure, I don’t see why not,” Joseph shrugged at Bonnie, hoping she would just go with it. He knew from the research he’d done online lately on how to deal with hormonal teens that it was better to say yes whenever possible, and this request seemed completely reasonable to him.

  Bonnie was caught off guard by the question and by her husband’s hasty permission, so she said the first thing that came to her mind and immediately regretted the absurdity of her response. “But . . . is Dustin’s family even Lutheran? Do they even go to church?”

  “Um, Bonnie . . .” Joseph shook his head at her.

  “Not every week . . . but they go on most holidays. Why? Does that matter?” Jenna asked.

  “No, of course it doesn’t,” Joseph said as he scrolled through a news article on his phone, conveying that he hoped they were done with the conversation.

  “Keeley and Delaney will be there too,” Jenna added, a final plea for her mom’s approval.

  “Yes, I suppose it would be fine,” Bonnie said.

  By the end of the shopping and lunch excursion, Jenna was bursting with anxiety. She was certain that if she heard Thomas’s name one more time, her eardrums would explode. Sure, her mom and aunt had a way of chattering on and on about all sorts of things when they were together, as if breathing wasn’t even necessary for them, but Jenna couldn’t believe how much of their conversation revolved around Thomas. Or maybe it just felt that way to her since hearing his name sent shockwaves through her bones.

  You must be so proud of Thomas . . . His wife must be quite a beautiful soul for him to have chosen her . . . I wish we could have been at their wedding . . . He must be the most wonderful father to little Stella . . . I knew from when he was a teen that Thomas would make a great leader someday . . . Thomas has always been such a great role model . . . Our church sure is fortunate that Thomas has agreed to join our congregation.

  The next day, Thomas and his family would make their first appearance at church since being back in town. Jenna almost threw a teacup against a wall in the kitchen at church when they were there setting up because she was scared to death about how she was going to cope when she saw him. She wondered if she would be able to hold herself back from screaming out the truth. She also wondered if she’d even be able to breathe.

  Her only consolation had been knowing that her friends would be there, including Dustin. She hoped to draw strength from their presence.

  As soon as she saw Dustin pull up to the curb in his parents’ car, she was out the door.

  “Don’t forget, eleven o’clock on the dot!” her mom called out so loud that the reminder carried through the front door.

  “Hey,” Dustin said with the crooked smile Jenna had always found adorable. Jenna smiled back and buckled up as the car pulled away from the curb. “Ready to get your butt whooped? I brushed up on my skills with my dad’s electric putter today.” He quirked an eyebrow in her direction.

  “That’s cheating,” Jenna said, trying to match his playful tone.

  She knew she’d failed, though, when Dustin glanced over at her and said, “What’s wrong?”

  That was the thing about dating a childhood friend. It wasn’t always so easy to hide when you weren’t feeling yourself. Although, Jenna had hidden her demons behind a lot of fake smiles over the years, leaving her to often wonder who her true self really was.

  Jenna self-consciously crossed her arms. “Would you mind if we skipped mini golf and just drove around for a while? Or maybe we could park somewhere? I don’t feel like being around people.”

  “But what about Keeley and Delaney? You said earlier you were going to invite them too.”

  Jenna sighed. “I only said that because my mom was right there when you called. I’m sorry.”

  “Okay?” He ran his left hand through his hair. It was a habit he’d always had, a tic that would appear when he was confused or nervous.

  “My mom is still being a pain about us spending time alone. That’s all.” Jenna put her hand on Dustin’s thigh, immediately making his pulse race. That was the effect any physical contact with her had on him since around eighth grade. It was out of his control.

  “Oh,” he said, glancing down at her hand on his leg. He wasn’t happy that Mrs. Kemp seemed to have changed the way she felt about him when she found out he and Jenna were becoming more than just friends, but he couldn’t help but be excited about the prospect of parking with Jenna. As far as activities went, it ranked right up there with watching a Brewers game from field level right behind first base. “So where do you want to go?”

  “Can we just drive for a while first? Maybe down by the lake?”

  After cruising around for about an hour while listening to an alternative rock station, Dustin and Jenna parked in a small, seldom-used lot at Jolliet Park. It abutted the entrances to several walking trails, one of which led to the old playground where they’d played as kids. There was a new bigger lot located smack dab in the middle of all the action—a newer playground, a splash pad, a community building where they held nature classes, a pond, a pavilion for birthday parties, and a brand-new restroom/changing room. This smaller lot was tucked away and barely used, so it was ideal for a teen couple looking for some privacy.

  “So,” Dustin said, offering Jenna a piece of the gum he’d purchased when they stopped for gas. She declined. “What are we going to do for the next three hours?” He popped a piece of gum into his mouth and took hold of her hand.

  They both leaned into their seats and turned to face each other.

  “Do you want to walk some of the trails?”

  Dustin wanted to groan because walking the trails wasn’t at the top of his to-do-with-Jenna list, but he grinned, not wanting to be that guy. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want.”

  Jenna knew the trails at Jolliet like the back of her hand since she’d been running them for years. So out of habit, she went a little faster than Dustin was expecting. When they exited the wooded path into the clearing next to the old playground, he was huffing.

  “Wow, Dustin. A little out of shape?”

  “Yeah . . . well, I don’t run every day like you.”

  “Maybe you should start test riding the bikes you fix up at work around the block instead of around the parking lot. Otherwise, you’re going to be totally out of shape for the basketball season.”

  Dustin laughed as he removed his palms from his knees and stood upright. Then he put his arm around Jenna, and they walked toward the rusty old merry-go-round. It was like they were walking backward in time toward their childhood.

  “So, I was wondering . . .” Jenna said, taking a seat on the merry-go-round she knew so well. “. . . and it’s no big deal. You can say no . . . Will you go to the party at our church tomorrow afternoon?”

  “Uh, yeah sure,” he said, grabbing a bar of the merry-go-round and giving it a slow push, “if you want me to. But is it okay with your mom? Isn’t it sort of a family thing to welcome your aunt and uncle back to town?”

  When Jenna told Dustin about her family moving back, she’d neglected to mention an
ything about Thomas.

  “Kind of, but not really. It’s more like a congregation thing.”

  Dustin shrugged. “As long as it isn’t going to make your mom mad.”

  “Good,” Jenna said, feeling a bit relieved that Dustin would be there along with Keeley and Delaney.

  When the merry-go-round spun Jenna back to where Dustin was standing, he hopped on next to her and leaned over to kiss her. He had no idea if she would move to kiss him back or not because she still wasn’t acting quite like her usual talkative self, but there was no way he was going to miss the opportunity to try. To his relief, Jenna leaned toward him, closing the remaining gap between their lips, and gave him a quick peck. I’ll take it, Dustin thought, feeling triumphant. Then Jenna grabbed his hand, and they both laid back and looked up at the sky.

  Dustin continued to slowly spin the top with his foot. It was something they enjoyed doing as kids. Only, when they were kids, going as fast as possible was the ultimate goal. Now that they were older, going slow seemed like the right thing to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Dustin

  Saturday, October 28, 2017

  One Day After Jenna’s Disappearance

  Mrs. Kemp picks up on the first ring.

  “Dustin,” she says breathlessly, as if she’d been staring at the phone waiting for my call and lunged for it. “Thank you so much for calling back.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Kemp. No problem. I—”

  “Dustin, have you seen or spoken to Jenna?”

  “Um, no, not today, but . . .”

  “When was the last time you spoke to her?”

  I take a deep breath and contemplate how much to tell her. I can hear Mr. Kemp’s muffled voice in the background. What’s he saying? Has he talked to her?

  “She texted me last night.”

  “What time? What did she want?”

  The urgency in her voice startles me, and now I’m second-guessing my earlier assumption that Jenna must have left her house again last night and told her parents she’d be with me.

  “Last night, around . . .” I wrack my brain trying to remember what time her first text came through.

  “When? When was it?” She pauses, then lowers her voice and speaks more slowly. “Dustin, this is really important.”

  “Okay . . . I’d just gotten to the movie theater, so it must have been around eight forty-five. She asked if we could talk . . . in person.”

  “And? Dustin, did you see her?” she practically yells, and I finally realize something is wrong.

  “Wait, when was the last time you saw Jenna?”

  “Yesterday morning before school. As far as we know, she went to Leighton Pierce’s house right after school and stayed there until around nine, but then we have no idea where she went, and we don’t think she ever came home last night. So, if you saw her . . .”

  This makes no sense. Mrs. Kemp has always kept tabs on where Jenna was going and who she’d be with. I want to ask how it was possible they didn’t know if she went home last night, but it’s really none of my business.

  “No, I didn’t see her, but I saw her car—well, your car—parked on the slab in back of your house. So, I thought she was home and that she stood me up.”

  “Stood you up? So, you made plans to meet? Where?”

  “At Jolliet. But I got there around—I don’t know for sure. I replied to Jenna's text around ten, and I was about fifteen minutes away.” Suddenly I wish I hadn’t deleted our entire text conversation. “But when I got there, she wasn’t there. So I drove past your house just to . . . I don’t know what I was going to do. But when I saw the car there, I figured she’d changed her mind about wanting to meet me, so I left.”

  She exhales the way people do when they’ve heard bad news. Then she finally responds to Mr. Kemp, but she must have covered the phone because I can’t make out what’s being said.

  “Dustin?”

  “Mrs. Kemp, I’m so sorry. I wish I knew where she was.”

  “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. Maybe if I’d trusted her . . . and you . . . I’m the one who’s sorry.” I have no idea if she’s apologizing to me again like she did in the message she left or if she’s just sorry for the way Jenna’s been acting lately, but I don’t get the chance to ask because she continues. “Dustin, we’re going to be calling the police if Jenna doesn’t turn up by this evening. So if you hear from her, or if you hear anything at all about her, please let us know.”

  “I will.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  “Oh, and Dustin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Did Jenna say what she wanted to talk to you about? I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but . . . I’m just curious because . . .”

  “No, all she said was it would help me understand.”

  “Understand what?”

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Kemp.”

  “Well, again, I’m sorry,” she continues. There’s a brief pause and then, “Bye, Dustin. Please remember to call if you hear from Jenna.”

  “I will.”

  Before Mrs. Kemp hangs up, I hear Mr. Kemp mutter his thanks too.

  I sit and stare at my phone long enough to talk myself out of calling everyone I know to find Jenna because this really has nothing to do with me.

  I head out to the backyard to work on the clippings, hoping the task will dilute my thoughts about Jenna. Instead, the mindless work makes me think about her and us and what she wanted to tell me even more. I know from some good sources that the rumors about all the guys are true, so maybe the drug rumors are true too. Maybe that’s why she contacted me out of nowhere and then flaked out on me last minute. Maybe she was high on something other than weed and didn’t know what she was doing. Or maybe she was just messing with me to get back at me for being such an idiot and hooking up with Delaney.

  “Dustin?”

  I turn, startled. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t hear Delaney open the gate to our backyard. She comes to a stop about five feet shy of me and my brush pile. For the past week or so, she’s been giving me a hug or stealing a kiss whenever we see each other, so the distance tells me she must suspect what I want to talk to her about.

  In all fairness, I’ve told her several times that I wasn’t sure what we were doing was right, and she even wavered once too. But our discussions always seemed to circle back to the fact that Jenna had abandoned friendships with both of us and had even said in front of dozens of kids at school that she couldn’t care less if Delaney and I dated. So, we both had our reasons for taking things too far, the main one for me being how betrayed I felt by Jenna. But now, guilt is eating me alive.

  “Hi,” I say, dropping the black lawn waste bag I’m holding and running a hand through my hair. Jenna’s voice echoes through my brain. I love how you run your hand through your hair when you’re nervous. It’s so cute. I quickly shove both hands into my pockets, even though Delaney has no idea touching my hair is a nervous habit of mine.

  “Hey.” She shifts from one foot to the other and folds her arms around herself, void of her usual confidence that borders on arrogance at times. “I got your message.”

  “Do you want to sit?” I ask, gesturing to the crimson Adirondack chairs surrounding our fire pit.

  Without responding, she walks toward the chairs, and I follow. I immediately regret choosing the chair next to the one she chooses because I’m terrified to be so close to her right now. I’ve broken up with girls before, but never a girl who was a childhood friend or a girl who used to be best friends with the first and only girl I’ve ever felt like I loved.

  “Have you heard from Jenna?” Delaney asks at the same time I say, “I have to tell you something.”

  “What?” we respond in unison and both laugh.

  I run my hand through my hair again as Delaney perches her elbow on the armrest and leans closer to me, making me wonder if the small bit of laughter we just shared has made her think th
ings with us are going to be fine.

  “You go first,” I say.

  “Mrs. Kemp called Keeley and me looking for Jenna.”

  “Yeah, she called me too.”

  “Oh . . . what did you tell her? I mean, did you mention any of the stuff Jenna has been doing lately? The drinking? The drugs? The guys?”

  When she mentions the guys, her tone sours. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because she’s upset with Jenna for hurting me or if it was meant as a reminder to me.

  “No,” I say shaking my head, “I didn’t mention any of that. Why would I? All she asked was when I last talked to Jenna.”

  “What did you say then? When was the last time you talked to her?”

  I inhale deeply, examining Delaney and wondering if it would be easier to not say anything and just start distancing myself from her. No, that would be a dick move. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Delaney pulls both hands into her lap and leans away from me.

  “She texted me last night. Right when we got to the theater, when we were in line for popcorn.”

  “So that’s why you kept looking at your phone.”

  I nod and continue. “She said she had something to tell me, something that would help me understand. But she said she wanted to tell me in person.”

  “Understand what? Why she turned into such a shitty friend?”

  I don’t even bat an eye at the anger in Delaney’s voice. She’s entitled to it as much as I am, and Keeley too.

  “I have no idea exactly what she meant.”

  “You didn’t ask?”

  “No, but I agreed to meet her, and that’s why I lied to you about feeling sick and went home right after the movie—so I could wait for Jenna to text me back, to tell me where to meet her. Then, when she finally told me to meet her at Jolliet, I went and waited but she never showed up.” I pause to take a breath only because I feel a twinge of anger when I think about how I felt when Jenna didn’t show. Delaney shakes her head with an irritated huff. “Then I drove past her house just to see if her car was there,” I say, embarrassed.

 

‹ Prev