When the Truth Unravels

by RuthAnne Snow

  Jenna whirled around to face her. “What? Why would we do that?”

  “Why do you think?” Rosie hissed, glancing over at Ben, who was listening to our every word. “Our friend … who is not very responsible right now … has disappeared.”

  “Don’t you think that’s extreme?” Teddy asked, his face unsure. “I mean, you guys got in a fight and she left prom. That’s not irresponsible, it’s just dramatic. She’ll apologize tomorrow.”

  Rosie ignored him, her eyes glued on Jenna. “We need to call the cops,” she repeated.

  “I don’t know, Rosie,” I said, glancing between the two of them. “If the cops come, she is going to be so embarrassed. And pissed.”

  “Totally,” agreed Jenna. “We just have to find her ourselves.”

  Rosie’s lip curled in disgust. “You just don’t want to get caught being drunk at school.”

  Jenna flushed. I couldn’t tell whether it was from embarrassment, anger, or the alcoholic content of her blood. I felt a rush of defensiveness on her behalf. “That’s not true, Ro,” I said, trying to channel as much Mama Leanne as I could. Authoritative Calm. “If we thought Elin was really in danger, Jenna would be calling 9-1-1 already. But I think that’s a really aggressive step at the moment.”

  Rosie folded her arms across her chest, glaring at the two of us. Jenna’s face was still red, her jaw clenching. I cleared my throat, hoping to avert disaster. “I think we need to continue this conversation in private,” I said, glancing pointedly at Ben and Teddy.

  “What? Again?” said Teddy, sounding annoyed. We ignored him and headed off to the girls’ bathroom.

  “Not the bathroom,” Jenna protested, but I shoved the door open and pulled her inside. A handful of sophomores in juvenile dresses hovered around the sinks, reapplying lip gloss and mascara in front of the mirrors.

  Oh, to be a pathetic sophomore again.

  “Out!” I bellowed. The sophomore vacated the bathroom post haste. I glanced under the stall doors—no one.

  “We have got to call the cops,” Rosie whispered, even though we were alone.

  Jenna turned to Rosie. “If this is how Elin reacts when she thinks one person knows about what happened, how is she going to react when the entire school knows? Besides—” She snapped her mouth shut abruptly.

  “What?” Rosie asked, her jaw clenched.

  Jenna glanced at the door, avoiding our stares. “Elin’s parents don’t know she’s here.”

  Rosie and I stared at her. “Wait, what?” I said.

  Jenna shrugged, playing with the ends of her wavy hair. “Elin’s doctor thought she should go to the dance, but her parents didn’t think it was a good idea. So she asked me to cover for her. They think we’re at a sleepover at Ket’s.”

  My jaw dropped. “And you didn’t think you should tell me?” I asked.

  Rosie said nothing, just glanced back and forth between the two of us. For the first time, she looked uncertain. “But … I mean, who cares how she’ll feel if she’s … off somewhere …”

  “She’s not,” hissed Jenna, wrapping her arms around herself. “She went to the hospital and the doctors let her go, and they don’t let you go if you’re still like that!”

  “Adults don’t know everything, Jen,” Rosie said softly.

  “Doctors do,” Jenna snapped. “She’s fine and you’re being dramatic.”

  I glanced back and forth between their faces—Rosie’s solemn, Jenna’s incensed.

  Rosie bit her lip and leaned back against the sink. “Okay. We won’t call the cops, or tell Elin’s parents. Yet,” she added when Jenna let out a sigh of relief. “We’ll keep looking for her. If we can’t find her by midnight, we have to call the cops and tell her parents. Agreed?”

  “Totally,” I said, and Jenna shot me a look.

  What really bugs me about the party-girl stereotype is the implication that I’m a bad friend. There’s always an episode in any medical or cop show where a bunch of girls were partying, one ends up with alcohol poisoning and/or is kidnapped, and all the other girls just giggle and deflect while the doctor or detective tries to get some Damn Answers Already.

  I mean, please. If Rosie, Jenna, Elin, or Teddy had alcohol poisoning, I would be the first person to haul them into the ER and tearfully confess every sin and mistake from my entire life.

  But in this case, I didn’t think Elin was really in trouble. She was obviously super pissed at either me or Rosie or most likely both of us. Which meant calling the cops and making it worse would be a monumentally big mistake.

  I blew out a long breath, frustration bubbling up inside—frustration at myself for trusting Vaughn, frustration at listening to Jenna. Frustration at Rosie for lying to me. But none of that was going to help us, so I said nothing.

  We stepped out of the bathroom. Ben had disappeared, presumably off to find Hannah, but Teddy was still waiting, wearing an expression of annoyance and disapproval. And now FDR had joined him, his eyebrows knit together with worry.

  “We’ve got a problem,” FDR said. “My car is missing.”

  28

  Rosie Winchester

  April 18, 9:30 PM

  Ket and I stood outside, Ket smoking and me resisting the urge to call Will and ask him what to do. (Not that he’d even know.) FDR was calling his GPS provider, trying to get a location on his car, which presumably Elin had since he’d left his keys in the pocket of the coat he’d given her. Ben had disappeared, probably pissed off, or at least scared of pissing off Hannah. Jenna was sitting on the curb a few yards away, head between her knees. Teddy sat beside her, arms resting on his knees, earbuds in as he resolutely ignored me. His breath puffed white in the cold air, but even without a coat in the falling snow, he didn’t shiver.

  “What are we going to do, Rosie?” Ket said finally. “If we can’t find her?”

  I chewed on my thumbnail. “I don’t know. Call the police. Something. Find Elin, then pretend none of this ever happened.”

  But even I wasn’t so sure about the police anymore. It was one thing when we just had a missing friend. Now we had a missing friend who had committed grand theft auto.

  Ket wrapped her arms around herself, holding her cigarette off to the side, her wrist cocked artfully. “Don’t you think that’s the problem, though? I mean, Elin wouldn’t be okay if her parents hadn’t come home early. And we never talk about it.”

  Jenna groaned and Ket and I turned to study her. She didn’t make any more noise—I assumed she wasn’t going to barf.

  I leaned my cheek against my knees and wrapped my arms around my legs, hoping to conserve as much warmth as possible. (Stupid, stupid dress.) “What is there to talk about? We know what happened.”

  “Do we?” Ket asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered, keenly aware of Teddy’s presence, earbuds or no. “Elin had a breakdown, probably because of Ben—”

  “You don’t know that,” Ket interrupted, sounding annoyed.

  “—and then her doctors released her,” I hissed, jerking my head toward Teddy so Ket would remember to keep her voice down. (I didn’t want to talk about this.) “Jenna’s drunk, but she’s right about that. They wouldn’t have let her go if she wasn’t better.”

  (I hoped.)

  Ket eyed Teddy. “He didn’t hear anything,” she said finally, but her voice was lower.

  I shivered violently and wished FDR would hurry.

  “What do you think your parents would do?” Ket said suddenly. “If they found out about tonight.”

  “Nothing,” I said, no hesitation.

  Ket took a long drag on her cigarette. “You never worry about what they think,” she said, sounding vaguely amazed.

  I shrugged. “I worry what Will thinks. Sometimes.”

  “Do you think Will and your mom will ever get divorced?” Ket asked.

  I chewed on my thumbnail. “Probably. I think my mom only married him so she could have a built-in babysitter. I have no idea why Will married her. They don’t even see
m like they like each other that much.”

  “Because your mom is hot for an older lady, and because she’s loaded,” Ket said, half her mouth turned up in a wry smile.

  I scuffed the toe of my shoe against the pavement and Ket bumped me with her shoulder. I glanced up at her. Her smile had faded. “Maybe Will married your mom for the money,” she said. “Or, I don’t know. Will is weird. Maybe it seemed like an adventure at the time. But whatever it was, he stays married to her for you.”

  I swallowed, my eyes stinging in the cold. “If they get divorced, we won’t even be related anymore,” I said softly, my voice thick. “He’ll just be another ex-step-parent.”

  (I’ll never see him again, just like I never saw Amanda or Marianne again.)

  (He’ll probably get remarried and have a real kid.)

  Ket rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dumb. Whether they get divorced or not, he’s going to cry like a bitch when you move away for college. I’ll bet you cash money.”

  I cracked a smile. “He can be super sappy.”

  “Exactly,” Ket said.

  I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “What were we talking about?”

  “Parents, and the multitude of ways we disappoint them.”

  I frowned. “Are you worried about your parents? You didn’t do anything.”

  Ket shrugged but didn’t say anything, the corners of her mouth turned down. I felt a pang. Ket so rarely seemed sad. “You didn’t do anything,” I repeated. “Jenna helped her lie to her parents. I was with her when she ran off. You told Vaughn, but … I don’t know. Vaughn is such a dick, but I think most people would tell their boyfriends. Jenna told Miles, didn’t she?”

  Ket tossed her cigarette on the sidewalk, but despite the cold, we didn’t stand to go inside. We stared, fixated on the little stream of smoke curling up from the still-burning ember. “That’s not the point,” she said finally. “It’s just that, I know my moms wish I were more responsible. As if my whorey ways are some kind of reflection on their same-sex parenting, and it’s my obligation to be, like, the model child instead. I mean, no offense, but if you got in as much trouble as I do, at least people would say, Well, she comes from a broken home. When things like this happen, maybe it’s not really anyone’s fault, but I know they think, They’re going to blame us, the lesbians who raised this batshit daughter.”

  I snorted. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s not,” Ket insisted. “Adlai was so perfect. I bet he’ll be mad at me, too.”

  “You’re jumping to conclusions,” I said. “And why would Adlai even care?”

  But it was like she wasn’t even listening to me, staring out at the parking lot as I studied her profile. “This night is going to ruin my life,” she whispered, eyes shining.

  My heart thumped a little harder. “We’re going to find her,” I insisted. “No one’s life is getting ruined.”

  Ket stood suddenly, stomping her feet on the sidewalk. “You must be freezing,” she said, her voice shaking. “We should wait inside.”

  I stood, stiff from sitting in the cold so long, my brain still trying to follow all the unexpected turns of my conversation with Ket. I opened my mouth to ask, What aren’t you telling me? But the stormy look on her face stopped me.

  (Coward.)

  Teddy glanced up at us and pulled his earbuds out. “You guys heading in?”

  “Yeah,” said Ket, her voice returning to normal.

  Teddy nudged Jenna and she opened her eyes slightly. He helped her to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her as they headed for the school.

  My eyes stung as I watched them, him helping her like he would help his sister. My throat clenched and I swallowed, hard, forcing myself to come back to neutral.

  (God, I miss Teddy.)

  (Worry about that tomorrow.)

  I hung back with Ket, hoping she would say something—anything—about why she was so upset.

  But she followed them without another word.

  9:45 PM

  Most people become less awkward over time.

  I get worse.

  If Ket hadn’t befriended me in kindergarten, thanks to an alphabetical order seating arrangement … if Teddy hadn’t moved next door when I was eight … if all three of us hadn’t met Jenna and Elin on the first day of middle school and became inseparable the way slightly nerdy kids tend to band together to face sixth grade … I would probably have no friends at all.

  They were the people I loved most in the world, and yet, if we had all met today instead of years ago, I worry we wouldn’t even bother with each other.

  (They wouldn’t bother with me.)

  But it wouldn’t take a more socially attuned person than I to realize that all of us standing around after FDR returned with a location on his car, trying to decide who would go after Elin and who would stay, was the definition of awkward.

  “So I think you should give Fisher a ride back to her party,” Ket said to Teddy, glancing at me with puppy-dog eyes. Like I’d be able to come up with something.

  Teddy stared at Ket, refusing to look at me at all. My stomach felt queasy-greasy. I felt preternaturally aware of FDR’s presence, his lanky frame just a few inches from my side. Teddy’s lip was curled ever-so-slightly—his disgusted face. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered.

  “I’m sorry,” Ket said, glancing up to meet his gaze for the first time. “I know I told you to come to the dance, and I’m so glad you did—”

  “Whatever,” Teddy said, tucking his hands into his back pockets. He was trying to look bored, but I knew—and I was sure Ket did as well—that he was pissed. “Where is Fisher?”

  Ket trailed off, biting her lip.

  “She’s waiting in the front circle,” FDR supplied helpfully. (At least one of us was determined to ignore the awkward vibe.)

  Teddy’s gaze flickered over to FDR and I scooted a few inches away from him. “And Elin took your car?” he asked.

  “Pretty sure,” FDR said, a smile still plastered on his face.

  Teddy rolled his eyes. “Glad that’s sorted out,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

  “You should stay at Fisher’s party,” Jenna suggested suddenly, snapping out of her drunken stupor. She had been leaning against her car during the entire discussion, eyes squeezed shut. I hadn’t even realized she was listening. “We can still hang out after the dance, once we find Elin and bring her back.” She beamed, swaying slightly on her feet.

  I felt a wave of relief that Jenna was fixing this, but Ket cleared her throat. All eyes turned to her. She pursed her lips. “Well … maybe we should just meet up tomorrow instead?”

  Teddy blinked, hurt flashing over his face, and I stared at Ket. What the hell?

  Teddy looked at me for the first time. I knew every expression Teddy’s face ever made, but not this one. Annoyed? Pissed? Had I really lost my ability to read Teddy in two months of not talking? His eyes darted over to FDR standing at my side and then back to me.

  Jealous?

  “No, you should come to Fisher’s party,” I said, taking a deliberate step away from FDR. This was the first time in weeks that Teddy had willingly spent more than five minutes in my presence—I wasn’t letting the opportunity pass me by. “Or wherever we end up. I’ll text you, okay?”

  Teddy’s expression was unreadable. He glanced over to Ket one last time. “Yeah, sure,” he said finally.

  I felt my heart sink. I knew that Teddy was going to ignore that text message. Just like he’d ignored every other message I’d sent since his birthday.

  Ket’s mouth was hanging open, like a confused guppy, as Teddy stalked off to the school. I felt a flash of annoyance toward her. Why was she making it so weird for Teddy?

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said, grabbing Jenna’s keys from her hand.

  10:00 PM

  Finding a parking space was nearly impossible—we may have reached Main Street in ten minutes, but every second we spent circling blocks,
not finding Elin, the knot in my stomach grew tighter.

  In the back seat, Jenna had her forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window and Ket was texting frantically. I wasn’t sure what she thought she’d accomplish there—Elin hadn’t answered any of our messages so far, so why would she answer these?

  Beside me in the passenger seat, FDR kept up a steady stream of inoffensive commentary. I knew he was probably trying to keep us calm. Well, me calm, since Jenna and Ket weren’t paying attention—but it wasn’t helping. I opened my mouth more than once to ask him to shut up, but the words caught in my throat.

  “There!” shouted Jenna, too loudly for the enclosed space. I winced, but I saw what she meant—a space to the right, almost too narrow to fit. If we had any more time, I would have waited to find something better.

  We squeezed out of our doors, holding them carefully to avoid hitting the neighboring cars. “Where did the GPS say your car was?” I asked FDR.

  “They could only narrow it down to a four-block radius,” FDR said.

  His eyes flickered down for a moment, and for one second I saw a crack in his relentlessly cheerful exterior. Neither of us were saying what we were worried about.

  That we would find FDR’s car but not Elin.

  (Don’t even think that.)

  We hurried down each street as quickly as we could. All around us, people were huddled on patios with tall heating lamps, walking in and out of bars and clubs and restaurants, laughing. My eyes stung. I wasn’t a crier, but I was getting as close as I ever got.

  “There it is,” FDR said, jogging over to a red Subaru Forester. I was surprised—then annoyed that I’d thought about it. I expected Fisher Reese’s date to drive an Audi or Volvo or … I didn’t really know cars, but something nicer than a Subaru.

  His pace slowed as he got closer to the car, and it only took me half a heartbeat to understand why.

  No Elin.

  29

  Ket West-Beauchamp

  April 18, 10:10 PM

  I stared at the draft of a text message to Teddy, written but unsent. I am so sorry, dude. Please let me explain tomorrow?