Fake (24 page)

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Authors: Beck Nicholas

BOOK: Fake
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I call again.

It's dark and listening to the rings takes all my focus. My knee strikes the corner of my desk and I stifle a curse. An antique glass bottle on the edge tips and I can't catch it. The rosewater inside spreads in a silent puddle. The sweet floral scent rises around me as I try to mop it up with a scarf.

In a way it's all Lana's fault. Why did she have to be so gullible? Why would a guy like Aaron be interested in a girl like her? But if it's really Lana's fault, why do I feel so sick?

I try Chay for the third time. My eyes close as it rings. She has to answer. I might not like Lana much but I don't want her injured or worse.

I swear if you answer I'll …

She picks up the call before I can offer my soul or worse.

‘It's the middle of the night,' she grunts.

‘Lana's missing.'

She exhales. I can picture her sitting upright in her bed, blinking as she tries to take in the news, but I don't have time for her to join the dots. ‘Where did you send her?'

‘Nowhere.'

‘Come on, this isn't a joke anymore. Sebastian's really worried.'

‘I really didn't.' There's sincerity in her voice.

But at the moment I don't trust my ability to read anyone. And that includes Chay. ‘Think. What did you text her tonight?'

There's a stretch of silence and another minute flips over on my digital clock. Sebastian is waiting. He probably thinks I'm not going to call back.

Finally she speaks, ‘Aaron might have mentioned a midweek gig.'

‘Where?'

She gives me the details. ‘I didn't think she'd actually try to get there.'

‘You didn't think,' I agree and hang up.

Sebastian answers on the first ring. I don't bother with a greeting but tell him straight away where Aaron was playing.

‘What are you going to do?' I ask.

It's now nearly half past one and it will take him a good hour to drive to the place Chay described.

‘Drive there.'

‘Your parents?'

‘Asleep, for now. I'll leave them a note or something for if Poppy wakes.'

Poppy … his daughter. With everything else on my mind I'd almost forgotten he has more than his little sister to look after. It's a responsibility so far from my existence he might as well be from another planet. What can I say?

He sighs. ‘I'd better go.' He ends the call without waiting for my response. It's good I guess because the whole being a dad has left me pretty much out of common ground.

Sleep doesn't come easily. The smell of rosewater is heavy in the air and each breath is more like a bouquet of flowers than an exercise in getting oxygen. Soon my head is pounding and I'm staring at the ceiling.

The rustle of the pine needles against my window is the only sound in the quiet of the night. Where is Sebastian now? Has he found Lana?

The questions cycle through my head on infinite loop, only breaking for memories of his face when I accused him of being a stranger and Mum's when I told her I'd met Marty.

No tears come.

My eyes are dry and gritty and I don't think I have any liquid left in me to cry. But I ache. Every part of me is heavy and thick with regret and guilt.

I long to get out of my own head but when you've stuffed everything up it's really hard to find anyone else to blame.

The red glow from the numbers on my clock is accusing. A dozen different horror movie scenarios play out in my head. Where Lana might be. Who she might be with. What Sebastian will say if she's hurt. I gave him all the information I had but Chay must know more than she's letting on. We've been friends for too long. She won't lie to my face.

I have to believe it. There's no way I'm going to sleep while Lana's missing.

I ignore the voice in my head worrying about what will happen if I'm caught driving at night in the city. I've had enough of sitting around and waiting for other people to fix my screw-ups.

I drag on jeans and sneakers and my warmest jacket. My breath comes in clouds of fog and from the frost on the sill I know it's going to be even colder out. I grab an old knitted hat I bought in the city. Chay says the cream beanie makes me look like a mushroom, but tonight I don't care about fashion transgressions.

I creep into the hall, half expecting Mum to burst out of her room at any moment. But the only noise is the creak of the house's aging timbers in the cold night. Her keys are where she left them on the bench. They glint like a beacon in a stream of moonlight shining through the kitchen window. I hold my breath and pick them up. There's not even a jingle to give me away.

Too easy.

I can't stop and think about whether this is some trick being played on me by the universe, not when there is a girl out there somewhere looking for someone who doesn't exist. I make it down the stairs and out the front door in silence. The neighbourhood is quiet, the windows of the surrounding buildings dark like so many empty eyes. They watch as I hesitate.

My hands curl into fists.

I have to do this. If something happens to Lana that I could have prevented, Sebastian won't be the only one unable to forgive me. I'd never be able to live with myself.

Mum's car squats in the driveway, appearing to huddle down on the ground against the cold and the lateness of the hour.

Time to wake up.

My hands are shaking as I open the door and slide into the driver's seat. I turn the key and the car purrs to life.

I'm doing it. I'm taking my mum's car to the city to search for Lana.

The rapid pumping of my heart sends a rush of blood and exhilaration to my brain. I have to bite my lip to stop an exuberant ‘woohoo' from escaping. Who knew being bad could feel so good?

The feeling lasts exactly ten seconds. Which is as long as it takes me to put the car into reverse and my phone to buzz loudly from where I tossed it onto the empty passenger seat.

Sebastian.

I've found Lana

That moment of distraction is enough. My head turns. My hand follows, forgetting it's attached to the steering wheel. The car swerves off the driveway with a screech of gravel. My foot slams on the brake. Like a cat held over a bath the steering wheel leaps in my hands as the back tires go up and over the rock garden.

There's a crack like a gunshot.

The car stops.

The only sound is my gasp for breath, and I can barely hear it over the thudding of my heart. Sweat escapes every pore, freezing my skin as it hits the cold air.

The lime tree.

Mum's lime tree.

Holy crap. What the hell have I done?

My head drops, hitting the steering wheel. I drag in an unwilling breath, tasting the panic on my tongue.

Move, Kath
.

As usual I can't obey my brain's reasonable instruction. If I could move I might salvage this somehow. I lift my head – I don't know how – but I'm too late. The light goes on in the hallway above the stairs and a beat later Mum is flying from the front door, her burgundy dressing gown flapping behind her like a cape.

‘Kath,' she cries. Her mouth and eyes are wide with panic, her skin ashen in the moonlight.

Right now she's Supermum, avenger of whatever has put her daughter at harm. A creature of majesty, awe and fury. I brace myself, because once she understands I'm physically fine and that I made this huge mess myself, the disappointment will set in.

Disappointment I deserve.

My hand is heavy as I push open the driver's door and climb to my feet on leaden legs. I wait for Mum to come to me. Staying upright is taking all I have at the moment.

‘I'm sorry.' I say the words before she's close enough to hear. ‘I'm sorry.' I repeat them for good measure.

But she's done that Mum thing where she's taken in my safety at a glance and she's already looking past me. At the tree.

It's snapped at bumper height, the jagged shards of its spindly trunk lifted in a twisted imitation of a middle finger pointing defiantly up at the cloudless sky. I want to laugh but it's all I can do not to cry.

Mum stumbles to it and falls on her knees in the mud.

I don't move. From here the branches on the ground are the dead body to my crime. ‘It's not like it grows anything.'

Stupid
. My words catch on a breeze and I think for a second she hasn't heard them. She doesn't turn and her voice is so quiet I have to strain to hear it.

‘Go to bed.'

‘I can explain.'

She raises a hand and cuts off anything else I might say. Her lotion-stained fingers are old and wrinkled. ‘I've heard that before.'

The explanation of Lana in trouble and Sebastian and everything dies on my lips as her shoulders begin to shake.

If I was braver I would ignore her order. I'd go to my mother and try to give her comfort over the stupid tree that should never have meant so much.

But I've done enough damage today.

I leave the car door open and the keys in the ignition, turn on my heel, and do exactly as I'm told.

* * *

Breakfast is an uncomfortable meal of long sighs from Mum. As I stare at my bowl and choke my oats down as fast as I can, I'm hoping food will help with the queasiness I've been battling since Sebastian told me about his daughter, which has only been made worse by my night-time exploits.

Just thinking about it has the same effect on my belly as a triple loop of a rollercoaster. Mum leaves to shower and I dump the last of my porridge down the sink.

I tried to apologise and explain twice but Mum just gave me a sad look and walked away each time. The sadness is worse than anger.

For a change I don't guess and second-guess my outfit. I can't summon the energy to think through what effect anything I wear will have on the people I see. I pull on the first thing that comes to hand. Old faded jeans, comfy boots and a jacket I got at a tourist shop on our one international holiday to Canada.

I pick up Sebastian's hoodie to return it but leave it on the end of my bed. I can't part with it today. And I've had it for so long. Maybe he's forgotten.

I'm at the top of the stairs with freedom in sight when Mum calls my name.

I turn back. Hopeful. Is she ready to listen at last?

She's dressed for the salon in black pants and a cream shirt, but her usual smile is missing. ‘Don't forget that you're grounded.'

The hope evaporates. ‘I know.' I fight not to roll my eyes.

‘No lingering after school.'

As if there's anyone I know who wants to see me after school at the moment anyway. ‘Trust me, that won't be a problem.' I can't keep the bitterness from my tone.

She shakes her head. ‘It seems I can't trust you. So I'll keep reminding you for as long as it takes.'

The noose of guilt tightens around my neck but I shrug. ‘Whatever.' I throw the word behind me and jog down the stairs.

It's something I know will infuriate her but the double standards of the whole situation are doing my head in. I broke a rule she never actually stated and now I'm the world's worst teenager? I bet she'll love complaining about her ungrateful child all day in the salon.

I know I damaged her stupid tree. But if she'd just listen to me for one second she'd know I was trying to do the right thing.

I welcome the sting of a cool breeze when I step outside. The clouds are heavy overhead and I glare at them, daring them to add being rained on to my already less than stellar day.

The first drops dribble down my neck as I reach the corner.
Our
corner, as I had started to think of it before our fight. Before I knew about Poppy.

Before everything went to hell.

There's a familiar lanky figure under the tree. I blink and rub my eyes but he's still there.

‘No textbook?' I say as I slow my approach. My heart is hammering against my ribs so loud it's impossible that he doesn't hear it.

‘Not today.' He shuffles from foot to foot. The silence stretches. When his gaze meets mine it's shuttered. ‘Thanks for last night.'

Since he's not talking about me freaking over his secret, I can only figure he's referring to Lana. More guilt spreads over my shoulders like the heavy black cape I wore to the party. If it wasn't for me she would never have been missing.

He takes a step toward school and then another. The sync we managed to find when we walked together before is missing and every few steps I have to half jog to keep up.

‘You found her okay?' I ask the question like I haven't read and reread his text a bajillion times trying to find emotion in the three short words.

‘Yeah.'

‘Where was she?' Talking to Sebastian used to be an exercise in skin-tingling opportunities to touch. Today another person could easily walk between us and his hands are shoved in his pockets as though to make sure they don't accidentally brush one of mine.

‘Outside the club. Despite the dive that it was, she couldn't get in without ID and the jerk wasn't answering her texts.'

‘But she was okay?'

He shrugs. ‘She had a cut on her head but she wouldn't talk about it.'

My mind goes into imagination overdrive. How did she get there at that time of night? Did someone hurt her? No wonder Sebastian's pissed. I say nothing because an apology will only make him suspicious.

We're almost at the gates. He meets my gaze for the first time in a block. ‘When I find this Aaron he'll be sorry.'

My stupid female hormones spring to life at the pure protectiveness in his tone but guilt swamps them. The person he's seeking vengeance on is me.

‘You think you'll find him then?'
Please let that sound more casual than it does in my head
.

His nod is definite. ‘Soon.'

I should tell him Aaron's fake. It's the right thing to do, but he's already disappointed in me. If I tell him how I put his sister at risk he'll hate me.

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