I saw Fisher from across the room. She was clapping for Elin. She didn’t seem annoyed by the fact that she had just lost prom queen—she was smiling faintly, glancing around. It only took me a second to realize who she was looking for.
Up on stage, Josh was smiling, squinting and shielding his eyes against the spotlight, scanning the crowd. “Elin? Come up to the stage.”
I leaned toward Jenna. “Where is Elin?”
All around us, people were whispering the same thing.
25
BEFORE
Elin Angstrom
February 26, 1:20 AM
The carpet of Elin’s bedroom floor was covered in dirty clothes and dust bunnies. Elin stared at a clump, wondering if the lack of neatness in her room was making Jenna twitch.
Probably.
“I don’t know how you managed to forget about a final paper,” Jenna muttered for what must have been the fourth time.
Elin said nothing. There really wasn’t anything to say.
Elin’s grades had been tanking all year, even though she had quit all her extracurriculars. She had always struggled a little in school, but it seemed like the more time she spent on just homework, the further behind she fell.
Yesterday, Ms. Crawford had called Elin’s parents, explaining that she was going to get an Incomplete—no good old C or D or even F for Elin Angstrom. Ms. Crawford was giving Elin one day to turn in her paper and salvage her senior year. Elin’s folks had hit the roof, and still Elin had been indifferent to the idea of not graduating on time.
Elin had heard her mother on the phone, calling someone as soon as she’d hung up with Ms. Crawford. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with her,” she had said, voice quavering.
For one second, Elin had thought her mother was calling her sister or Mrs. Sinclair for advice. But then Elin’s mother had said, “That’s so great, Jenny,” and Jenna had appeared after dinner, acting as if she just conveniently wanted to hang out.
Elin should have been annoyed. Offended, even. What kind of mother called her daughter’s best friend for parenting advice? Would Sarah Angstrom be meeting up to go shopping with Ket next? And what sort of best friend conspired with a girl’s parents behind her back?
She should have thrown a fit. Screamed at her mother. Given Jenna the cold shoulder. She might have, if she thought Jenna would have bought it.
That was one of the most annoying things about Jenna. When Elin was this tired, it was all she could do to force herself to behave like a normal person, which was hard enough around Ket and Rosie and Teddy. Had been hard enough with Ben. But with Jenna, who had known her since before either of them could speak in full sentences, it meant fending off Jenna’s questions and quizzical looks.
And that would have taken more energy than Elin had to give.
Jenna rubbed her eyes. They had been working on Elin’s paper for hours—it hadn’t helped that Elin hadn’t bothered to read Their Eyes Were Watching God or Things Fall Apart and Jenna had to summarize both before they started. From years of experience, Elin knew that Jenna was prepared to type every word of Elin’s paper, improve her grammar and syntax, but that she would flatly refuse to invent the words herself. Jenna despised cheating, but she despised the idea of Elin failing even more.
“So how would you say Okonkwo and Janie reacted to conflict? We need three similarities and three differences to fill five more pages,” Jenna said.
Elin sighed. She knew she should try. Try for Jenna, if no one else.
But she was so sick of trying.
“I don’t know, Jen. Just … let it go.”
Jenna clenched her hands. “You have to give me something, E.”
“No, I don’t,” Elin said. “It’s my grade and I didn’t read the books. I’ll just have to live with it.”
Jenna turned in her desk chair, staring at Elin like she had just spoken in some imaginary language from the books that Rosie and Teddy read. “What do you mean, you’ll just have to live with it?”
“I mean, it is what it is.”
“Ms. Crawford will fail you,” Jenna said, her voice rising.
Elin shrugged, turning her attention back to the mess. If Elin wasn’t already in serious danger of failing out during her senior year, her parents might have said something about the state of her room.
Elin heard a soft sniffle and glanced back up at Jenna. Jenna was staring at Elin, her eyes filling with tears and not even bothering to hide it. “Elin, I just told you everything you need to know about both books,” she said, her voice trembling and her lower lip jutting out. “I have been here all night, and you’re just going to sit there and say … nothing?”
Elin swallowed thickly. She had never seen Jenna cry. Rosie and Ket, yes, but never because of something Elin had done. And never Jenna. “Jen …”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Jenna said, her voice cracking and tears spilling over.
Later, Elin would realize it was the swearing that did it. She had seen Jenna cry maybe once or twice, but she had never heard Jenna swear before. Something shifted inside her head and she searched for an answer to her question. “Okonkwo … tries to control his family members? And Janie rebels against hers?”
Jenna opened her mouth, shut it again. Forced a smile. “That’s good, I’ll write that,” she said, wiping her cheeks with both hands and turning back to the computer screen.
Elin ran her fingers through her hair. “Were you there when Ms. Crawford announced we were studying Things Fall Apart instead of Tess of the d’Urbervilles?” she asked suddenly. “She looked right at Miles the whole time. It was so awkward.”
Jenna laughed, even though this was old gossip. Miles had told this story, rolling his eyes, over a month ago. “Poor Ms. Crawford,” Jenna said, giggling and wiping her tears. “She tries so hard, and it’s so gross.”
It took until dawn, but Jenna managed to coax Elin into writing a ten-page paper comparing and contrasting themes in Things Fall Apart and Their Eyes Were Watching God. By the time they finished, they were both punchy and snickering over jokes that didn’t make sense. Mrs. Angstrom poked her head in Elin’s room, her eyes bleary with sleep, and mouthed thank you at Jenna when she thought Elin couldn’t see. Jenna packed up her stuff so she could get an hour of sleep before she left for early morning tennis conditioning.
Downstairs, Elin’s mom began frying bacon and scrambling eggs, the first time she’d made breakfast in as long as Elin could remember.
Elin showered, dressed, and came downstairs to eat breakfast across from her parents, silently, before she went to school. None of them said anything. Elin assumed they felt bad about screaming but also justified since their rage had prompted her all-nighter.
Outside, Rosie honked her horn. Elin grabbed her bag and ran out the door. Her parents didn’t say goodbye.
In second period, Elin remembered that she had left the paper on her desk.
26
Jenna Sinclair
April 18, 8:50 PM
For a second when everyone was glancing around, wondering where Elin was, I briefly thought she was playing a trick on me—Elin of last summer, gleefully yanking my chain before she’d burst out of her hiding spot, snickering at my expense.
Up on stage, Josh scratched his head theatrically. “Well, I guess Elin disappearing on us is no surprise!” he joked. The laughter in response was automatic and I blinked, snapping back to reality.
Beside me, Rosie was frozen. I grabbed her hand. “Come on,” I said, sharper than I’d wanted, and turned to stomp off the dance floor. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming rapidly, my head swimming. If I was going to lose it, I didn’t want an audience when it happened.
I pushed the double doors to the gym open with more force than was needed, and they banged against the walls. One of my high heels slid out from under me and I stumbled briefly before Rosie caught me. Stupid shoes.
“She’s got to be here somewhere,” Rosie said, her voice even. Anyone
who didn’t know Rosie—which was most people—wouldn’t even realize that she was as worried as I was. “She told me she was going to find Ket.”
Why didn’t I just tell Elin she had to be there for the crowning? Haughty: arrogantly superior or disdainful.
Inside the gym, the deejay resumed the dance track. Josh must have abandoned the idea of crowning Elin. All the way out in the shadowy lobby, I could feel the bass pounding my ears. My skin felt hot and too tight.
The rational part of myself—the part that always argued for the simplest solution—said that Elin was simply off in the school somewhere, maybe sneaking a cigarette with Ket.
But the primal, lizard brainy part of me knew that wasn’t it. Whatever Elin was doing right now, whatever she was up to, it wasn’t harmless fun. And someone was going to pay for it.
Most likely me.
For one second, my imagination went to the darkest possible place. Elin’s face, white and still and waxy as a doll’s. A razor blade on the edge of a sink. Empty pill bottles scattered on the floor. Red ribbons rising through water, like strands of smoke from a candle flame. My heart pounding, about to fall over the edge and into a chasm of panic, not knowing what to do.
I took a deep breath and shoved all that aside—buried it deep inside my brain, slammed the door and locked it. Elin’s doctor had sent her home, which meant none of that was a possibility.
“Where is she?” I whispered, half to myself.
“I’ve been texting her, I’m not getting any reply,” Rosie said, biting her lip, her eyes glued to her phone. “Ket says she’s not with her.”
I pressed the heels of both my palms to my forehead and shut my eyes, wishing the situation away.
“What’s going on?”
I turned to see Ket and Teddy—Teddy?—walking toward us, emerging from the dim hallway. I could barely see the expressions on their faces.
“Where have you guys been?” Rosie asked.
Ket and Teddy glanced at each other. “In the band room watching Golden Girls,” Ket said after a long beat, and a look of hurt flashed over Rosie’s face.
I shook my head. No time for Teddy-Rosie drama right now. “We can’t find Elin,” I said. “She’s not answering texts, either.”
Ket blinked, her mouth hanging open—and for some reason, her surprise justified my own. “Well … what do you think happened?”
Rosie shrugged, wrapping her arms around herself. “Beats me! She said she was going to look for you. Did Ben say something to her?”
“I don’t think so,” Ket mumbled.
I ignored her and turned to Rosie. “Why would you think Ben said something?”
Rosie glanced away, silent as always.
Teddy was glancing between the three of us, concern washing over his face. He might not have known exactly what we were talking about, but Teddy had always been a good listener. “Guys, what’s going on?”
Ket cleared her throat. “I, uh, may have an idea of what happened.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Care to share with the class?”
Ket glanced at Teddy, who raised his eyebrows. “Why are you looking at me?” he said. “I don’t know what’s going on.”
Ket grabbed my arm and Rosie’s, propelling us down the hall. “We’ll be right back, it’s a girl thing!” she called over her shoulder.
I tried to put on the brakes when I realized Ket wanted us to head into the bathroom. “Hold on,” I snapped, my heart thumping wildly in my chest. “Just tell me what you think is happening already.”
Ket looked around, glancing over her shoulder. She obviously wanted the potential privacy the bathroom would offer, but I couldn’t handle another unnecessary bathroom visit tonight. “No one’s listening,” I hissed impatiently.
Ket leaned against a row of lockers, shoulders hunched as she faced me and Rosie. She bit her lip. “I told Vaughn about what happened. To Elin.”
For one second, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Then Rosie cursed under her breath and I snapped back to myself. I let out a long breath. At least there’s a logical explanation. And that was what mattered.
“I know it was stupid, so don’t lecture me,” Ket said. “But I’m sure he won’t tell anyone. The problem is, I told Elin at Fisher’s party and now she’s pissed.”
“But she’s not pissed,” Rosie said, forehead crinkling in confusion. “At least, I don’t think she is.”
Ket threw her hands in the air. “Why else would she run off when she’s been looking forward to prom for weeks?”
“I don’t know, but the last thing she told me was that she was going to look for you,” Rosie said. “She was talking about getting sushi! Did Vaughn say something to her?”
“No,” said Ket.
“How are you so sure?” Rosie said.
“I know,” Ket said firmly.
“How do you know?” Rosie insisted.
Didactic: excessively instructive.
Ineffable: unspeakable, incapable of being expressed through words.
Wo tingbudong: I don’t understand.
“He’s not even at the dance yet!” Ket snapped.
“Stop,” I said finally. “There’s no point in arguing. We need to split up and look for her. She’s probably just moping in a classroom somewhere or fixing her makeup.”
As expected, Ket and Rosie didn’t argue with me. They nodded. “What are we going to tell Teddy?” Ket asked, her eyebrows tilted miserably.
“Why is Teddy here, again?”
Ket’s gaze flicked toward Rosie, who glanced away. “I think it was a last-minute decision.”
“Well, yeah, he’s wearing jeans and a suit coat he probably stole from his grandpa,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. My brain was swirling.
Rosie nudged me. “Who’s down there with Teddy?” she asked, peering down the darkened hallway.
Ket swore under her breath. “It’s Fisher and FDR.”
“And Ben,” Rosie said, her tone acidic.
She and Rosie started down the hall toward Teddy’s shadowy figure. I stood rooted to the spot for a moment. “Who the hell is FDR?” I said finally, picking up my tulle skirt to hurry after them.
Fisher Reese and her date were standing with Teddy and Ben when we returned to the lobby, all wearing identical expressions of concern. “Hey, is Elin okay?” Fisher asked, her voice hushed.
I scrunched up my nose. “Fisher, when did we become friends?”
Fisher flinched. “Jenna,” Ket hissed under her breath.
I was puzzled. It was a genuine question, I didn’t mean to be rude. Since when was Ket the arbiter of what was right and proper? And since when did Ket stick up for Fisher?
“Sorry, Fisher,” I said, confused. “But for reals, are we friends?”
Fisher blinked and a smile spread over her overly orthodonted face. “Of course we’re friends, Jenna. We’ve known each other since we were little.”
“Oh, okay,” I said, even though knowing someone for a long time was not the same as being friends. It’s not like it was a syllogism or something.
“We don’t know where Elin is,” Ket confessed. “We’re going to split up and search the school for her before it becomes a thing.”
Weirdly, Fisher didn’t ask any questions. She nodded. “I’ll tell people she wasn’t feeling well and she went to my condo to take a nap,” she said. “If you find her before the after-party, no one will ever know she split.”
I blinked. That was … a surprisingly good idea. “Okay,” I said. “That’s a good start. So we were her ride, which means she’s still on campus somewhere. Let’s split up and search, we’re bound to find her.”
Ben blew out a breath from between his teeth. “Fine. Where should we start?”
I furrowed my brow, trying to think of a polite way to point out that if Ben ditched Hannah to go look for his ex-girlfriend, Hannah would do everything she could to make the situation worse. Truculent: defiantly aggressive.
But Rosie beat me to it.<
br />
“I think we’ll be fine without your help,” Rosie said coolly.
Ben scowled at her, his jaw clenched. “Seriously, Rosie, what is your problem? You have been the biggest bitch to me lately.”
“Don’t call her a bitch,” Teddy and Ket snapped simultaneously.
Ben glared at Rosie and, for one second, he legitimately looked like he hated her. Sweet, kind Ben glaring down Rosie, who was glaring right back.
What the hell was going on? How drunk am I?
“You tell me at Fisher’s party to stay away from Elin—”
“Wait, what?” Ket interrupted, turning toward Rosie, whose cheeks were flushing scarlet. “Did you lie to me? You promised you’d leave Ben alone.”
Rosie glanced away. “Look, can we talk about this later?” she asked.
“No, we’re going to talk about it now,” Ket said, her voice rising and dark eyes flashing. “Because I think I just figured out what really pissed Elin off.”
I put my hand on Ket’s arm. “We don’t have time for that,” I said. “We have to find Elin, and we need all the help we can get.”
Fisher’s date spoke for the first time. “Well, at least half of us should head outside.”
“In this?” Ket asked, gesturing toward the doors. Snow was falling steadily.
“We saw her outside when we arrived,” Fisher said.
“I gave her my coat,” Fisher’s date added. “It wasn’t snowing yet, but she looked cold.”
Rosie nodded, turning to me. “Fine. So everyone who wants to help look”—her eyes skittered toward Ben and then away from him—“should split up. If you find her, text the others. Otherwise—”
“There is no otherwise,” I interrupted. “We’re going to find her.”
Rosie met my eyes and I remembered who I was dealing with—Rosie Winchester, Eeyore personified. She couldn’t resist finishing her sentence. “Otherwise, meet back here in thirty minutes.”
27
Ket West-Beauchamp
April 18, 9:20 PM
We had searched everywhere and we had no idea where Elin was. Every call and text went unanswered.
Rosie swallowed visibly. “I think we need to call the police.”
When the Truth Unravels Page 12
