It was 9 o’clock. We’d woken up a few of our hall mates with our bathroom shenanigans, but for the moment, they’d been leaving us alone. A cop, on the other hand, banging on our door would bring the whole Smytheville student body a-runnin’. I wasn’t ready for that.
“Okay, I have a plan,” I said after what felt like a millennium. I darted to the bathroom, as best as a mostly-dead girl could dart. As I closed the door I said, “Give me three minutes. Just stall him. I’ll come out in a sec.”
“Stall?” she hissed. “How?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered back. “You’re Lucy. Do your Lucy thing. Trust me.”
Through the crack in the door I watched Lucy wrap herself back up in the bulky, tattered comforter. She set her glasses crooked on her nose as she walked toward the banging.
She opened the door, a crack. “Hello? Can I help you?” Her voice was little, shaky, but not at all unsexy. She had a husky thing going.
I grinned. Lucy was a pro. She knew
exactly
what to do.
While she had the door handled, for better or for worse, I turned back to the bathroom. In the medicine cabinet I found exactly what I needed: a goopy, green, exfoliating mud mask. Not that I cared so much about exfoliation in that moment; what I liked was the “mask.” I squeezed a glob of green goo onto my hand and smeared it across my face, taking care to cover as much of my pasty, dead-looking skin as possible. Soon I looked like a whole new girl—a Frankenstein-girl, perhaps, but no less new. I wrapped an orange bath towel around my hair and pulled my robe on, tying it tight to cover me up to the neck. Though I’d have killed to find a pair of leggings to cover my legs, I didn’t think I could pull them on by myself without breaking something, so I had to hope the long robe covered enough. I shoved my feet into a pair of fuzzy pink slippers left over from an old Halloween costume, and, for better or worse, I considered myself ready. I took a glance at myself in the full-length mirror.
I looked ridiculous.
But at least I looked alive. Ish. Enough, anyway, to keep the cop from calling an ambulance, because I had a vague idea of what would happen if an EMT tried to find my heartbeat and failed. It wouldn’t be pretty.
I went back to the bathroom door and pressed my ear to it, listening.
“What do you mean, missing?” Lucy said. “She just in her room over there. She was with me all night.”
“Then why do I have her boyfriend calling our station, saying she’s gone?”
I’d heard enough. I opened the door. “Gone?” I said, trying to play up my voice’s new rasp.
I can play husky and sexy, too
. “Who’s gone?”
The officer stood, leaning against the closed hallway door, blocking any escape that might have been rendered necessary if the meeting went downhill. He was tall and blond and quite handsome, and I thought I caught a bit of swoon in Lucy’s eyes. He jumped when I walked into Lucy’s room, and I was pretty sure I saw a silent giggle cross Lucy’s lips. I had to keep a poker-face on, though, despite the fact that I looked like a clown. I stepped nearer to the shadowy room corners.
“Jolene Hall?” the officer said.
“Yes, sir. Well, it’s Jo. Only my parents call me Jolene.” I tried to smile. “And you are?”
“Officer Adam Strong, Smytheville Police Department. I’m here investigating your disappearance. Do you have any identification?” He was suppressing a smile.
“Sure,” I said, a picture of innocence. “What’s so funny?”
Next to Officer Strong, Lucy’s giggle was becoming less silent, more manic, and I shot her a look. She covered her face with her blanket, but her shoulders still shook. I understood—I was fighting hard to keep hysteria at bay, too.
“What’s with the getup?” the officer said, pointing to my face.
I shrugged. “Sunday morning spa time. Normally Lucy’s in on this, too, but someone overslept today. It’s how we get ready for church.” I tried to grin, but the mask cracked and crumbled. My bone-dry skin had sucked all the moisture out of it already. “I’ll go get my ID.”
I tried to walk bouncily from the room, like a typical college girl, while behind me Lucy gave up and burst out laughing, her face buried in the comforter. “I swear I don’t look like that, ever,” she said, choking. If Officer Strong responded, I didn’t hear him.
In my own room, I looked around frantically. I didn’t see my purse, and I tossed a few pillows around, looking for it, before realizing I’d probably lost my purse at the same time I was kidnapped and turned into a monster. “Craptastic,” I whispered. But I had to do something, so I walked back through the bathroom. In the mirror, I saw the tail of white thread starting to poke out of the green goo on my face, and with one finger I wiggled it back into place.
When I reentered Lucy’s room, I stayed as far from Officer Strong as I could. I tried to look sheepish. “Sorry, Officer. It’s still early and I forgot. I lost my purse last week and haven’t found it yet.”
“Did you report it stolen?”
“No, because it’s not stolen. It’s lost. I lose stuff all the time, right Luce?”
“Yes, sir, she does. Once she lost my favorite hat for a month before she found it under her pillow. True story.” Lucy’s freckles had darkened as blood rushed to her face. She was flushed and gorgeous.
I gave her a dirty look, but smiled at the cop. “Yeah, so I can’t say it was stolen, right? I was hoping it would turn up this weekend, around the dorm, but I plan to start getting stuff replaced first thing tomorrow morning. Girl Scouts’ honor.” I tried to make the salute, but was frustrated by knuckles that didn’t bend the right way. I slid my hand back down to my side and laughed weakly. “I was never
actually
a Girl Scout.”
The officer ignored Lucy and narrowed his eyes at me. I felt him stare. I watched him take in every inch of green goop on my face, every thread of my robe, every centimeter of pasty skin that managed to show through all my attempts to cover it. He was onto something, I just didn’t know what.
“Why am I getting reports that you’re missing?”
“I don’t know.”
“A fellow named Eli Peterson says he hasn’t been able to reach you since Wednesday night. Calls to your dorm and your cell have gone unanswered. Emails ignored. Where have you been?”
“Eli
Peterson
?” Lucy snorted. “Officer Strong, that’s because she broke
up
with Eli Peterson Tuesday night. He’s been practically stalking her. I
told
her not to take his calls. If he’s calling the police, you should be picking him up for, like, obstruction of justice or something! For placing phony reports. He knows she doesn’t want to talk to him!”
I wanted to kiss Lucy. She was perfect. I bobbed my head up and down. “Yep, that’s pretty much exactly right.”
“In fact,” Lucy said, yanking on Officer Strong’s brawny arm. “In fact, if he keeps on bugging her, do you think she should file one of those, oh, those restraining order deals?” For a redhead, she played dumb blonde very well.
Officer Strong never showed a crack in his smooth, official demeanor. His mouth was set in a grim line. “Phony reports, eh? I can go have a talk with Mr. Peterson, ladies, as long as you’re sure you’re not missing, Miss Hall. Reporting people missing who aren’t is definitely an offense worthy of a strongly worded talk.” Office Strong stared at me as he spoke, as if he had x-ray vision and was trying to see what was going on beneath the mask. Then he sniffed, and blanched ever so slightly. “What’s that smell? It’s terrible.”
“The bathroom,” I said. “The shower has a funk sometimes. I think the pipes are old.”
He looked around, craning his neck toward our bathroom. “Really? It’s, um, pretty potent. I’m surprised they let that go on in the rich kids’ dorm.” His words were dagger-sharp all of a sudden, and accusing.
Lucy ignored them. “Yeah, it happens all the time. Crazy, right? We call the RA, and she calls someone, and they say they fix it, but yuck. Still stinks. Hard to live with. I plan to live somewhere else next year.”
“You should call again,” said Officer Strong. He looked annoyed.
Behind him I heard the sound of life beginning in the hallway as people started moving around, calling out to each other through closed doors. The dorm was waking up, and in my opinion it was time for Officer Strong to leave.
“It’s fine, Officer. You can go. Get out of the stink. I’m not missing at all,” I said. “I’m right here, see? Been lying low all weekend, actually. Lucy and I watched chick flicks.
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
.
Pretty in Pink. Sixteen Candles.
We have a couple more to watch before class starts again tomorrow. Want to stay and watch with us?”
He shook his head, but then half-smiled, as if we’d broken through his exterior wall. He really was good looking, all pale skin and chiseled jawline. Lucy’s eyes hadn’t left his face through most of our exchange, and he finally turned to her, eyeing her body that could be seen through the thin, ragged T-shirt and fuzzy pants. “What are you ladies watching next?”
Lucy reached behind her to pull a movie off her bookshelf. “Here.
The Notebook.
You’re welcome to stay.” She batted her eyes at him.
He laughed, but it was forced. The rough exterior had been rebuilt. “
The Notebook?
Yeah, I’ll pass. I can’t stomach that tearjerker stuff. You girls enjoy your spa and movie time. I’m, uh, glad to hear you’re not missing.”
Officer Strong left the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
As soon as it clicked, Lucy grabbed my arm. “Oh my God, did you
see
that guy? Officer Strong? Hell yes, Officer Strong, you can strong-arm me anytime you want!”
“Lucy.”
“He was
gorgeous
, Jo! How can you just stand there calmly when I just met my future husband? Did you
see
his eyes? Green! My favorite. It’s fate!”
“Lucy!”
“I’m so going to start breaking laws and stuff just so he comes back to visit me again.”
“Lucy!”
“What?”
I pointed to the gap under the door. The hallway light was blocked in two spots by two large feet. “He’s standing right outside the door.”
Lucy squealed and dove for her bed. I threw
The Notebook
at her and stalked off to my own room. That had been a close call, and I wasn’t sure we were really going to get off that easily. He’d stared at me too intently. He’s noticed too much. I wasn’t out of the woods yet.
I sat back down at my desk, ignoring my grotesque reflection in the mirror. I flipped open my laptop and powered it on. While it booted, I picked at a loose thread on my robe. It wasn’t unlike the loose thread I’d tucked back into place on my face not five minutes before.
A minute later Lucy reappeared in the doorway, her face set back into a serious mask, hiding whatever emotion she was feeling. She handed me a damp towel. “Here,” she said. “Wipe your face.” Then she stared for a moment at a picture of the two of us, arms wrapped around each other, hanging on the tackboard above my desk. She frowned. “We’re going to fix this, Jo. You and me. Together. You’re going to be fine.”
I’m not sure if either of us believed her.
I nodded, and pulled up a web browser on my computer. It was time to be alive again.
Jolene,
Hi sweet girl. I miss you.
What happened the other night? Are you okay? You were telling me about the fight with that Eli boy, and then you hung up. Did I say something wrong, sweetie? If so, I didn’t mean to.
Next time you call me in the middle of the night, though, please don’t hang up so abruptly. And then definitely don’t stop answering my calls the next day. It makes me worry. It made Daddy worry, too. I actually had to stop him from calling the cops out there, just to check up on you. You know how he gets, hahaha.
I’ve given you some space now, but I
am
starting to worry, so please do call when you can. I love you, sweetheart. Daddy and I both want you to know that if things with Eli can’t be patched up, we have a nice boy in mind. Daddy’s ex-roommate’s son goes to Smytheville, and I bet you two kids would hit it off. He’s pre-law.
Give sweet Lucy our love and please, call me soon.
Love, Mom
Hey Mom,
Relax. I haven’t been mad. I’m sorry I made you worry. I lost my phone the other night, still haven’t gotten it replaced. I’ll go to the store tomorrow. I spent most of the weekend in Lucy’s room. We watched a bunch of movies and had girl time. I’m not too worried about Eli. I’m only 19 I’m sure I’ll find the right guy someday, and I guess I never
really
thought Eli was it anyway. I mean, who marries their freshman-year boyfriend, right? And it’s not like I’m even THINKING about marriage to ANYONE yet. That’s all you and Daddy.
I’m sorry I hung up on you the other night. I…didn’t feel well, I guess.
I’m going to be busy again this week, what with mid-terms coming up soon. Lots to study for. Maybe one day I’ll pick a major. Ha ha.
Thanks for not letting Daddy call the cops—that would have made me the talk of the dorms for the next three months! Ugh! How embarrassing!