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Authors: S.T. Hill

BOOK: Fatal
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"Are you sure?" I said, feeling guiltier than ever, "I mean, if we both looked..."

"Just go to class, okay? I'll meet you tonight, here, at six thirty. Got it?"

I felt like I was being ushered away as he stood aside to let me past. Time was ticking. I was already going to be late to lecture, but I could s
till make it without missing much.

"Thanks..." I said.

"No problem. Go, hurry! You're gonna be late!"

I was just about to go, but I had to be sure. I had to know. I turned back to him. I couldn't help seeing those scratches and that tear on his jacket, as though he'd been struggling.

"Adam, are you sure you didn't see her?" I said, looking right into those incredible turquoise eyes of his.

"No, I can't remember seeing Jenn last night," he said.

"Okay," I said, "Okay."

I rushed out of the cafeteria, an uneasy feeling permeating my entire body.

I couldn't tell whether Adam had just lied to me or not.

 

Chapter 21

 

In class, I forced myself to concentrate on the professor's words. As with many first year courses, this lecture took place in a large hall designed to seat a couple hundred restless students.

It was in the Arnold building, and as such had plenty of natural light coming in through the big windows at the back. By this point in the semester, everyone had "their" seat. Mine was three rows up and just off the middle, tending towards the left-side of the semi-circular room.

Jenn's was the seat on my left. It was empty today. I kept glancing at it, kept seeing her there out of the corner of my eye.

Before I knew it, the professor (a beak-nosed woman with streaks of grey through her black hair) announced the end of class.

The notepad I had open on my little desk had only about a page's worth of writing on it. Normally, in this class, I took two or three sheets worth of notes.

As everyone else got up to
go, the volume of conversation swelling as chairs and desks squeaked, I grabbed my phone. No messages from Adam or Jenn. It was a few minutes shy of one in the afternoon, and outside the sun had managed to burn away the last few shreds of that earlier fog.

My breath misted in front of me as the cool air prickled in my lungs. The dead grass crunched beneath my feet, and I wondered if it was going to snow soon.

I went down the stairs to the main walk. As it was between classes, hordes of students brushed past me. A few grumbled as I stopped and looked out across the fields at the campus.

The coolness of the air seemed to make everything sharp and still. I imagined for a moment that I could see everything with perfect clarity. But I still couldn't find Jenn.

The quickest way back to my dorm was to cut across the field on the other side of the street. I started to look both ways (more often than not, there was an expensive BMW or Mercedes rolling through) and even put one foot down on the road.

A second later I pulled it back. It was still more than five hours until I met up with Adam. Normally I spent this time doing my assigned readings or outlining a paper. Scholarships don't maintain themselves, as I knew all too well.

But I had gone to class. That counted for something, right? I decided on a compromise. I'd attended class, now I was going to spend some time continuing the search.

So I rejoined the flow of students on the sidewalk. People sniffled or coughed or talked loudly as we all went down this main artery, students splitting off at this intersection or that.

I followed a group of three laughing girls into Jenn's dorm. There was such a difference in the air just stepping through the door. It got really cold up in Massachusetts, as I was finding out. I hoped it was this toasty in my building.

As I went up the stairs, I pulled out my phone and
dialed Jenn. The robo-voice of her voicemail answered once more, so I hung up and shoved the phone back into my pocket with a sigh.

Her room was still dark and empty, and neither Straight Hair nor Curly Hair (still sitting in their room wearing their laundry day clothes, did they have anything else?) had seen her come back.

Then I remembered that I, too, was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Walking and moving and sweating had worked some of the wrinkles out, but they still made me uncomfortable in my own skin.

"Okay," I said, once more back outside on the walk in the chilly pre-winter air, "Go home and change, you can spare that much time."

A guy wearing a green hunting jacket shot me a funny look for talking to myself as he walked by. My cheeks heated and I stared at the pockmarked sidewalk in front of my feet the rest of the way to my dorm.

It was just that I had to say that
out loud. The guilt within me was too much to overpower by thought alone. This all still felt like my fault. Vick was right in that I hadn't kidnapped Jenn. But if I'd just chosen her over Adam, we'd have stayed at her place and she'd have been sitting beside me today in lecture.

That change of clothes back at my dorm turned into a shower (a nice hot one with clouds of steam rolling out over the bathroom) spending some more time choosing a new getup than I'd originally thought, as well as grabbing lunch at the tiny cafe in the basement of my dorm (grilled cheese with bacon, nice and hot).

Back up in my room, I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring out at the blue sky. A few tree branches reached towards my window, waving a little in the breeze. Just looking out there sent a shiver down my back, and I resisted climbing back under my warm covers.

Adam didn't say anything about not calling him. I was stuck in my own rudimentary search. The frustration of it boiled inside me, changing the pleasantly full sensation from my grilled cheese to a queasy one.

Aside from waiting a few more hours to call the cops, I was at the end of my rope. Adam was from here, from a rich family. The resources he had access to counted for something, didn't they?

Vick's warning came to mind, then. I also thought of how I'd been unable to tell if Adam was lying to me.

I called him. It was nice to actually hear a line ring a few times, instead of once and then to voicemail.

"Hey," he said. His voice sounded a little different over the phone, more distant somehow, more hollow.

"Hi... It's me, Steph. Any news?"

Anticipation built inside me as I asked a question, like I was in a rollercoaster being winched to the top of that first drop.

Adam sighed, "Nothing yet. But I'm looking. Don't worry; as soon as I learn anything, I'll let you know. Okay?"

I started nodding and then stopped when I realized how stupid it was. I was on the phone with him, how could he see me do that?

"Yeah, okay. Just... As soon as you know anything. Like, that very second, you'll call, right?"

"Right.
Just be cool. Everything will work out. Don't forget: cafeteria, six thirty."

"Got it," I said.

He hung up. I looked at the phone. The conversation lasted barely over a minute. One minute down, a few hours to go before I could meet him.

I thought about grabbing one of my books. The last quarter of
Jane Eyre
beckoned to me, as well as a chapter out of my history book on America post-Revolution. But it would be just like in my lecture. My body would be there, but the rest of me would be wondering if Adam had found Jenn, or if she'd be knocking at my door any second to make a dinner date.

Was this how a smoker felt when they went cold turkey? Just sitting there, unable to think of anything else, yet unable to actually satisfy their urges?

Smoking made me think of being sick, which made me think of cancer, which brought my mom back to the front of my thoughts.

When was the last time I called her? God, it had to be like two weeks ago. Things were really changing with me. When I first got to Redeemer, she was all I could think about. How she was doing, whether they were treating her well, hoping she was able to cope without me, wondering how I could possibly cope without her.

The number for the research center was programmed into my phone. I hit the "Call" button, then punched in the extension when the female robot voice asked for it.

It was late afternoon here in
Massachusetts. That meant it was around lunch back home. The phone rang once, twice. Would she be busy eating, still? Maybe she wasn't in her room.

In the middle of the third ring, she picked up.

"Hello?" she sounded good, if a little tired.

"Mom?"

"Steph!" her tone shifted, her excitement palpable, "How are you? How's school? Are you doing well?"

I smiled even as I felt the pressure build behind my eyes. It really was good to hear her again. Just listening to her voice made
me want to pack everything up and run away.

It was a strange thought. How many people ran away from their life to go back home? Wasn't it usually the opposite?

But at the same time another emotion rose up in opposition: resistance. It was surprising. Despite everything that happened in the last few days, I liked it here. I still wanted to be here.

A warm feeling spread out from my chest.

"Thanks, mom," I said.

"For what?"

"Oh, nothing... nothing."

I couldn't tell her that just hearing her voice gave me the little bit of strength I needed to stay where I was and see this through. She had been the one to get me to come out here in the first place.

"School's going well. Passing all my courses and all that."

I could
practically hear her smiling. I imagined her leaning back in her chair or on her bed, one hand laid over her chest as she smiled. The thought made me smile, too.

"And you're still having a good time with your new friends?"

I'd told her about going to the parties at Jim's, about finding a good friend in Jenn. Of course, I hadn't said anything too particular about what went on at these parties.

"Yes, mom..."

"Oh! Have you met a boy yet?"

"Mom!"

I'd met a couple boys, actually. I found myself thinking both of Adam and of Vick. They were so different from one another, but they were both in my mind. Of course, I had no idea what Adam actually wanted. Really, was that night a date or wasn't it?

And Vick was just so intense, and really different from all the other guys in the frat. Why was he with them in the first place?

"I'm sorry about all the questions, sweetie. It can just get so boring here, is
all. I've been thinking of you a lot lately."

"Things are going well, then?" I said, smiling. It was nice to have some good news for once. Good news was the real fuel that kept people going. Without it, you just lose the will to really do anything but exist. I knew that feeling all
too well. It was the thing that made me hide that UCLA letter all those months ago.

"Yes, the doctors say the numbers and results they're seeing are very promising. One of them actually said just yesterday that they didn't even think this would have been possible without me actually coming and staying here. Getting that acceptance letter was serendipity,
Steph!"

"Yeah..." I said.

We talked for about an hour longer. I knew this was going to fatten my cell bill, but it was worth it.

I wanted to keep talking until I had to go, but I could hear mom's strength
beginning to fade. Her laughs got a little more forced every few minutes, her voice a little more distant. Until finally she had to end it.

"I'm sorry,
Steph. I'd love to talk all night, but there's a nurse in the room giving me a look like the one you used to use when I didn't want to take my pills. I'm going to take a nap for a while, I think. Please, call again soon. I love you,"

"I love you, too, mom," I said. I heard her receiver clatter as she hung it up, and then the line went dead.

My ear hurt from having the phone pressed against it for so long. And the cell was hot, too. It was creepy how they got hot like that.

I tossed the phone down onto the bed and gently rubbed my ear. The flesh was warm, feverish. A pit opened up in my stomach as I looked out my window. It got dark out so early late in
Fall.

That call had transported me into a happy place while I was on it, but now that it was over, I was back here in reality. The quiet pressed in around me, and my breathing sounded too loud.

I made myself concentrate on the good news from mom. We both seemed to be doing so much better now that I wasn't clinging desperately to that meager, status quo existence I'd left behind in Pasadena.

Shifting myself off the bed, I stretched, wincing as the blood flowed back into my legs. Throwing on my jacket, and I went out to meet Adam at the cafeteria and find out what he'd learned about Jenn's disappearance.

 

Chapter 22

 

The place was pretty packed with
students still eating supper. It was pasta night, and I could smell the rich sauce. My stomach grumbled at me, and I fretted about how long I'd have to stand in line. Had Adam already grabbed food?

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