Find You There

by Brianna Bennett

  “But—” Marjorie protested, but Dr. Goswami shut her up with a pointed glare. She closed the door behind the other adults, leaving the three friends to talk privately. The heart monitor’s methodic beeping echoed around them, and Rider finally tore his gaze away from the corner of his bed to look at Luca first, then Carrie.

  “So. Doc thinks I’m nuttier than squirrel poop,” Rider stated. “Or wait. Is it squirrels or chipmunks that eat nuts?” He tried to laugh, but it turned into a mild cough. “Either way, I can’t say I disagree with her,” he added after Carrie bullied him into drinking some water. He licked his lips and fidgeted, eyes still on the bottom of the bed.

  “Rider, don’t talk like that. You’re not crazy. You’re sick.” Carrie sat on the right side of Rider’s bed while Luca sat on the left.

  “Carrie’s right,” he said, and Rider snorted bitterly.

  “You’re just saying that because she’s your girlfriend.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  Carrie and Luca spoke simultaneously and quickly glanced at each other before turning their attention back to Rider.

  “I’m agreeing with her because she’s right,” Luca continued, and Carrie preened at the praise. “Mental health matters just as much as physical health,” he added, hating the way he sounded like a disingenuous social media influencer. Still, his point remained. Rider didn’t respond, and Luca let his mind wander.

  He caught Carrie watching Rider worriedly, something in her posture telling him that her feelings for him weren’t wholly platonic. I’m pretty sure you have a thing for each other, but you’re afraid I’ll be upset if you bring it up, Luca thought, careful to keep that to himself. Rider wasn’t ready for that conversation, and this wasn’t the time or the place. Hell, I’m not ready to talk about how upset I don’t feel by the idea of my big brother liking my girlfriend. It should upset me more, shouldn’t it? I don’t even know how Carrie feels about him, and I’m not sure I want to. God, I’m a fucking mess.

  “Maybe this will be a blessing in disguise,” Carrie offered optimistically, even when the Sherwood brothers shot her incredulous looks. “I mean, she wouldn’t have recommended it for no reason, right? And clearly the medicine your psychiatrist has you on isn’t good for you, so maybe they can help you better at this hospital. Actually treat you instead of shoving pills down your throat.”

  The door opened, and Rick came charging in, coming to a stop at the bed’s baseboard. Marjorie and Henry tore in after him, Marjorie with tears in her eyes and Henry with a calculating expression on his face. Probably trying to figure out how to spin this so Dad looks like the good guy, Luca thought, disgusted.

  “Rick, please,” Marjorie begged. “We’ve talked about this—”

  “Don’t you patronize me!” Rick shouted at Marjorie, face turning red. He whirled back toward Rider, spit flying from his mouth when he spoke. “Of course you managed to make the most important night of my career about you!”

  “You think I wanted this?” Rider shot back, leaning forward to stare at Rick. “For your information, Dad, I was taking the pills to calm my nerves about your stupid conference. I’ve been feeling manic for days, and I didn’t want to bother anyone with it, so I handled it.” The muscle in his jaw ticked, and Luca only caught it because he was looking for it. “Isn’t that what you always taught us?” he added mockingly, words sharp and meaning plain.

  “Now you listen here, you little—” Rick took a step forward, and once again Luca silently stood in front of his brother. The unspoken challenge echoed like a thrown gauntlet in a medieval joust. Overpowering silence fell over the Sherwoods and the Sandersons. A siren passed by in the distance, its shrill noise the only sound as Rick stared Luca down. Muffled conversation passed by the door, fading as quickly as it came, as the chattering nurses continued their rounds.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” he growled, and Luca didn’t reply. Their father turned back to Rider. “I won’t allow you to destroy my career. I won’t.” His eyes were steely and cold, and Rider briefly feared his father would strike him, Luca’s well-meaning defense notwithstanding. “I expect you to be on your best behavior while you’re away.”

  “I haven’t decided if I’m going yet or not,” Rider replied, though Luca’s stomach dropped to his knees when Rick smiled like he did when his competitor made a mistake during a debate.

  “I’ve already signed the papers. You’re going.”

  Chapter Three

  As Luca stampeded down the stairs to his basement bedroom, he went over the night’s events. Was there something I could’ve done differently that made it okay to punch Dad? He stripped down to his boxers and got into his unmade bed, furious and tense. He flipped from his back to his stomach, punched his pillow, flipped the pillow to the cooler side, and adjusted his blankets restlessly.

  Frustrated, he sat up and forced himself to meditate, inhaling and exhaling with his eyes closed until he felt tired. Lying back down, he was just starting to relax when the basement door opened and someone crept down the steps. Based on the footfalls, he knew it wasn’t either of his parents or Henry. Plus, they’d have no reason to be sneaky, since I sleep like the dead. Rider had stayed in the hospital overnight for observation, so that only left one person.

  “Luca? Are you awake?”

  Carrie. She finished her descent and sat on the edge of his bed. Luca sat up and flicked on his lamp. Carrie wore a fleece robe with stars and clouds all over it, her dark-red hair in a messy bun atop her head. Tendrils of fiery red hair hung by her cheeks, still wet from washing her face. She’d taken her makeup off but wasn’t wearing her retainer, so she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet.

  “What’s up?” he asked. I’m not even interested to see if she’s wearing anything under her robe. What the fuck is wrong with me? She’s beautiful, smart, kind—everything I could ever want, but I just . . . don’t want to be with her anymore. Guilt ate at him like hungry gnats. I’m not sure I ever did.

  “I, um, I just wanted to tell you that what you did, standing up for Rider like that, was really brave.” Luca blinked, and Carrie smiled tentatively at him.

  “I didn’t even say anything,” Luca replied, and Carrie let out a small sob, eyes filling with tears. “Hey, talk to me.”

  He grabbed a stray undershirt and tugged it over his head, sitting so close that their thighs touched. One tear slid down her cheek, and she tsked, wiping it away with a brush of her hand.

  “That’s the thing. You didn’t have to. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you. You have this . . . ability to be silent and somehow shout at the same time.” She let out a shuddering breath. “Have you noticed that we haven’t been on a date in a while?” He broke eye contact and stared at his hands. Carrie made a frustrated noise, but he could tell without looking at her that she wasn’t upset with him, not really. “Luca, what are we doing? Are we dating? Are we not?” I’m treating you like you’re disposable, he thought, but didn’t—couldn’t—say the words aloud. If he put them out there, he wouldn’t be able to pretend everything was okay. “Is it something I did? I know I shouldn’t have kissed you at prom like that. It wasn’t right. I caught you off guard, and you just reacted—”

  “No, Carrie—” She put up her hand to stop him.

  “I’ve had a crush on you since we hit puberty. So, when you asked me to prom, it was my Cinderella moment.” Carrie deserves better than a loser like me, he thought deprecatingly, wishing he had the courage to say the words out loud, to clear the air once and for all.

  “They never talk about what happens after the happily ever after, do they?” Luca opened his mouth to say something, but the door opened with a bang, and Henry yelled down the steps:

  “Caroline Louise Sanderson!” Carrie and Luca grimaced. “You should be asleep!”

  “I was just saying goodnight to Luca!” Carrie called up.

  “With the door closed?” Henry snapped. “Come up here now.” Ca
rrie closed her eyes, pressed a kiss to Luca’s cheek, and walked up the steps to deal with her dad’s wrath.

  Meanwhile, Luca lay back down, flinching when the door slammed behind Carrie. I’m not going to get much sleep tonight, he thought, his mind running like a hamster on a wheel. I wish I could be like an ostrich and stick my head in the sand, he thought, idly wondering why he was thinking in animal-related similes. Maybe I should go to therapy.

  “Lyric? Lyric!” Someone shoved her shoulder, and Lyric’s brain booted up lethargically like a Windows 97 computer. Cadence came into focus first, and Lyric glanced down at herself. She’d fallen asleep in yesterday’s clothes. She blinked owlishly at her sister, her thoughts sluggish to get with the program. Once she saw the time, however, she was wide awake and panicked. 11:52 stared back at her—she was supposed to be at the studio in eight minutes! Why didn’t anyone come and get me? More importantly, why the hell didn’t my internal alarm clock wake me up before now? I never sleep until noon! That’s Rhythm’s department!

  She threw her blankets off of herself and got to her feet, tearing off her wrinkled T-shirt and capris, tossing them in the direction of her hamper. The mountain of dirty clothes teetered dangerously toward the floor but stayed stable for the moment. Her dresser drawer slammed into her knee as she searched for a studio-safe shirt. She cursed under her breath. There would definitely be a bruise there later on.

  “Dad ordered me to check if you were still alive,” Cadence informed her flatly, and Lyric didn’t even have time to be annoyed about that. Her sister covered her mouth while she yawned, using her other hand to rub sleepy crusts from her eyes. Cadence followed Lyric into the bathroom once she’d settled on an outfit and watched as her sister dragged a brush through her hair, grimacing as the bristles grabbed onto the knots like miniature vices. She haphazardly threw together a braid, splashed cold water on her face, and brushed her teeth vigorously. “I told Mr. Patterson I’d work today, and no one woke me up!” Dad ordered Cadence to make sure I was alive. He didn’t actually care enough to do it himself. What a loser.

  “Do you need a ride?” Trust Cadence to know exactly what I need even before I do.

  “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” she asked in response, and Cadence smiled.

  “Give me five minutes to get dressed,” Cadence replied. Lyric nodded, galloped down the stairs, and grabbed a protein bar from the pantry. Chuck said nothing from his spot at the kitchen table, the rustling newspaper the only sign he was even there.

  As Lyric munched on her meager breakfast, she stared around the room, abruptly feeling the emptiness of it without her mother’s scattered possessions. Photos of the three Meadows children at various stages of development littered the walls, and her eyes lingered on a photo of her very first concert.

  Her mom had managed to snap the picture when the spotlight shone down on her, complimenting her best features. In the photo, Lyric had been in the middle of a long note, her right hand on her heart while her other was wrapped around the microphone. They had to lower the mic for me. The nostalgic smile fell. Cadence came down the stairs then, distracting Lyric from her melancholic musings. “Ready?”

  “Yep.” Lyric nodded, and the two sisters made their way out to Cadence’s 2016 silver Volkswagen Beetle. Golden sunlight beamed from high above. The humidity levels were down, so it was warm but not unbearably so. Cadence opened her mouth to say something, but Lyric’s phone buzzed in her back pocket.

  She took it out and unlocked it, smiling unconsciously when she saw it was Luca asking if she was still coming to the studio. She quickly answered that she was. “What’s their name?” Cadence asked, a playful smirk lighting up her face. Lyric fidgeted. “You know I’ll find out sooner or later, so you might as well save us both the headache.”

  “Luca Sherwood,” she said after a pause, eyes flicking to Cadence and back to the passing houses.

  “You mean the senator’s kid? Did you hear what happened last night?”

  “That’s the one. He’s been coming to the studio for the last few months, and we finally talked to each other, outside of me instructing him, last night.” Cadence sighed in her I-don’t-want-to-say-this older-sister sigh, and Lyric dreaded what she’d say next. “And, no, I didn’t.” I was too busy fighting with our pigheaded brother. Instead of opening that can of worms, she asked, “What happened?”

  “Leer, I don’t want to upset you, but I also don’t want to see you hurt again, especially after what happened with Shawn.” She paused, considering her words carefully. Lyric stared at her, willing herself not to hyperventilate. “I’m pretty sure Luca has a girlfriend.” Annoyed that both of her siblings had assumed she was interested in Luca romantically, she bit the inside of her mouth to keep from saying something she’d regret. “As for last night, Luca’s brother, Rider? He overdosed in the middle of their dad’s candidacy announcement. Had to be taken to the hospital and everything.”

  “Oh, my God!” Lyric exclaimed. “Are there any updates?” Cadence shook her head.

  “Not that I’ve seen.”

  “Wait. If his brother’s in the hospital, why would he text me to ask if I’m still coming to the studio?” Cadence shrugged, slowing the car down so that they were idling outside of CMH. “You’ll have to ask him when you see him.” Lyric got out of the car, thanked Cadence for the ride, and turned to walk toward the studio.

  She’d only taken two steps before she was turning back around and knocking on the passenger-side window. She gestured for Cadence to roll it down. How many times am I going to have to explain myself? I’m asexual, and that should be the end of it. The fact that I had a boyfriend before doesn’t mean I’m any less ace. After a moment, Cadence did roll the window down, and Lyric gritted out, “For the record, Cades, we’re just friends.”

  “If you say so,” Cadence replied, and Lyric scowled but waved goodbye when she drove off.

  Craft Me Happy had been founded by its current owner’s grandmother in the 1960s. Over the years, it had gone from being a needlework-only instruction center to a complete crafting utopia. The studio’s main doors opened into a hallway complete with lockers and old classrooms from decades past. If you continued straight down the hall and turned to the right, you would hear Mr. Patterson’s classical music before you actually saw a speck of clay.

  She headed to the left of CMH’s main entrance, where an employee-only door led directly into the back area of the studio. It was there that Lyric saw the flashing red-and-blue lights of Claymoor police cruisers. Jessie Smart was talking to a detective, who had a notepad open and was scribbling notes down as she spoke. Considered eccentric but harmless by their conservative town, Jessie had long blonde hair fashioned into dreadlocks and often wore mismatched clothes to protest unfair societal beauty standards. Lyric also recognized the janitor, Eddie, who seemed to be giving a statement of some kind.

  Sunlight glinted off of broken glass on the ground, and Lyric followed the path of wreckage to a small rectangular window that she knew led into the ceramic studio’s storage room.

  “What’s going on?” Startled, Lyric found that Luca had walked up next to her, apparently just as confused as her. Today, he wore a robin’s-egg-blue T-shirt and khaki cargo shorts that brought out the light-brown flecks in his eyes. First it was his arms last night, and now it’s his eyes. What the heck am I thinking?

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Lyric replied. “Let’s go find out.”

  Yellow crime-scene tape sectioned off the storage room, and various law enforcement officials puttered around the whole studio, taking photos and notes of various objects.

  “Ah, Lyric. I’d forgotten you were coming today.” Mr. Patterson looked like a real-life Mr. Plum from the board game Clue, complete with the nervous expression and perspiration. So much for freaking out about being late, Lyric thought.

  “What’s going on? Why are the police here?”

  “There was a break-in overnight,” Mr. Patterson replied haltingly
, and Lyric squinted at him. “A student’s artwork was destroyed.”

  “Whose?” asked Lyric, and a few things happened at once. Mr. Patterson paled, and Luca’s spine straightened in the corner of her eye. The lead detective—at least, that was whom Lyric assumed he was, considering his shirt, tie, and lack of uniform aside from a shiny badge—approached them, apparently finished speaking with Jessie for now.

  “Are you Lyric Meadows?” he asked without preamble.

  “I am,” she answered, something inside her clenching painfully.

  “I wish we were meeting under better circumstances. My name is Detective Aaron Abbott. Tell me, Lyric: Is there any reason someone would try to hurt you? Any particular vendetta that someone may have against you?” Lyric immediately recalled her fight with Rhythm the night before, but she pushed it away. Rhythm would never do something like this. He knows how important this is to me. No matter how mad we are at each other, we’re still family.

  “Don’t be stupid, Aaron. Of course not.” Luca rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed with the officer. Detective Abbott barely looked Luca’s way; his focus narrowed on Lyric.

  “Luca, it’s good to see you again,” Aaron said through clenched teeth. “I trust your brother is staying on the straight and narrow?”

  “My brother’s recovery status is none of your business,” Luca returned guardedly. Aaron smirked like he knew something Luca didn’t. There’s clearly some history there, Lyric thought.

  “I’m just trying to make conversation,” he responded, and Luca’s lip curled into a snarl.

  “Can someone just tell me what’s going on? Whose artwork was destroyed?” I have a feeling I know, but I don’t want to be right.

  “It might be better if I showed you,” Mr. Patterson said gently, and Lyric almost started crying right then and there. Mr. Patterson then silently beckoned her to follow him to the storage room. Aside from the room appearing to have housed a hurricane, nothing seemed out of place. Lyric’s eyes immediately landed on her shelf.