Vanished (3 page)

  “What are you looking at?” Maddie asks, snapping her compact shut and shoving it in her purse. She smacks her bright red lips and shuts the visor mirror before glancing my way.  I turn to look at her.

“Nothing,” I say. She’s so hot with all that thick, shiny platinum blond hair, like glossy white silk in my hands, those perfect curves, her swollen pink lips, milky skin and those dramatic deep blue eyes, so why do I feel so miserable? I look away.

              “Did anyone get the weather up? Guys?” I look in the rearview mirror. They’re all staring at their phones with glazed eyes.

              “Sorry, got distracted.
Facebook
,” Collin says with an apologetic look, waving his phone at me. 

I look back at Zayn, curled around his phone, his brown bangs falling in his face.  He’s wearing his glasses, so he’s reading something on his phone, and I see he has his headphones on and probably never even heard me mention checking the weather.  Jasmine, her long curly brown hair piled on top of her head haphazardly, doesn’t even bother looking up.   I see she and Zayn are snuggled together, his hand is on her leg and her arm is intertwined with his.
They’ve been going out as long as Maddie and I have and they still seem to like each other.
What’s their secret?

              With a sigh I take out my phone, turn it on and bring up the weather app.
Overcast, sixty percent chance of rain, heightened risk for severe thunderstorms
, it doesn’t bode well for our road-trip.  “Are you
sure
this girl’s coming?” I ask feeling impatient to get on the road before the storms get worse.

              “Of course I am,” she answers in an annoyed tone and leans over me to glance up at the dark house. “Try honking again.”

              I don’t really want to be the asshole repeatedly honking their horn out on the street in the middle of the night.  “I’ll just go up,” I volunteer, “maybe she needs help with her bags,” I open the door, ignoring her objections, and step out of the car, cringing as cold pellets of rain hit the back of my neck and trickle down my collar to the fresh tattoo on my back making it itch even more. 

Slamming the door I run up to the gate and check for a dog. Seeing none, I reach over and unhook the metal clasp, letting myself in.   There actually
is
a dog on the other side of the fence in the neighbor’s yard; a little black poodle with a pink coat that starts yapping when she sees me.

              I’m on my way up the cobblestone path to the front door, half blinded by the rain when something collides into my chest, “Uh, sorry,” a voice says and I look down to see dark green eyes, like emeralds, dancing with silvery flecks looking up at me from underneath a hood, “I didn’t see you.”

              “No worries,” I say and take a step back.  She gives me a curious expression from under the shadow of her hood.
She’s probably wondering what I’m doing in her yard, I think, and she’s much shorter than I thought she was.
  “I thought you might need some help with your stuff.” I explain, “May I?” I hold out my hand.  She hesitates for a moment, looks back over her shoulder at the house then pulls the bag off her shoulder and hands it to me. 

Suddenly I feel like a real prick.    Maddie is up to no good inviting this shy, seemingly innocent girl to one of her notoriously crazy week-long parties.  There is no doubt in my mind that my conniving girlfriend has something planned for Trin Snow, some cruel joke to make senior year spring break more memorable.
You’re no better,
a voice says in my head
.  You’re the one escorting the poor girl to the car.
  

I make a silent vow to stay relatively sober and vigilant for the week because I want no part in whatever my girlfriend has planned for Trin, and if there is something I can do to prevent it, I will.

We go through the gate and she stands waiting, chewing on her nails and glancing at her house, while I toss her bags in the trunk.  I get the feeling she is sneaking out. She doesn’t strike me as the type of kid whose parent’s just let her run off with a bunch of other kids in the middle of the night.  “Over here,” I tell her, leading her around to the vacant seat next to Collin and opening the door for her. 

She looks up at me, her eyes wide like she’s surprised at my gesture, “Thanks,” she whispers and, once more I see her hesitate, her eyes lingering at the dark house, before she climbs in and buckles up.   

We pull away from the curb and Maddie starts talking non-stop about the lake-house and everything we have planned.  The rain forces me to drown out the entire conversation so I can focus on the road.  I take Paseo Boulevard and signal to turn right on seventy-fifth before yielding for oncoming traffic.  A minute later we hit seventy one highway, heading south and I don’t even get to put on my cruise.

___#___

Three and a half tedious hours later I turn into the lake-house driveway.  The incline is steep and I ease the Expedition to a stop inside the two-car garage next to Mr. Delaney’s 1972 red corvette. 

Collin whistles low when he sees the corvette, “I’m so taking that for a joy ride,” he exclaims, rudely climbing over the new girl to opening the door and fall out of the SUV to worship – literally – in front of the sports car. 

Put a finger on that car and my dad will have your head on a spike,” Maddie warns.  Getting out of the car, I stretch and jog around to open Maddie’s door, glancing at Trin who is watching Collin kissing the ground.

“Get up, retard,” I tell him, grabbing his jacket and pulling him to his feet with one hand.

He grins and straightens his t-shirt, “Why didn’t you tell me her dad had one of these babies?” He punches my shoulder.

“Why do you think?” I ask.

“It’s not a motorcycle” He says in a disappointed sing-song voice, wiping his dirty palms on his jeans.

“It’s not a motorcycle,” I repeat, nodding, “why don’t you help me with the bags?”

I feel Trin Snow’s eyes on me as I direct Collin to the back of the SUV and we start unloading.  She gets out and comes back to the trunk to pick through the luggage, grabbing her two bags and turns to follow Maddie, Zayn and Jasmine into the house.

“Welcome to paradise,” I hear Maddie exclaim as they disappear through the garage door.

“She sure loves showing off her shit, doesn’t she?” Collin murmurs, grabbing the last bag.

“She’s Maddie,” I reply, shrugging.  It needs no further explanation.

“Touché,” Collin agrees with a smirk, “Where’s that bitch Zayn and why isn’t he helping us?”

“It’s just you and me bro,” I heave several bags over my left shoulder and kneel down to pick up some more.

Collin rolls his eyes and grabs the rest of the bags following me into the house. 

We deposit the bags at the door and I hear Maddie giving the others the grand tour.  I make for the kitchen, closely followed by Collin.  I flip the switch on the wall in the loft style kitchen/living area, the fireplace glows instantly to life and soft music begins playing on the overhead speakers. “Holy shit,” Collin’s mouth forms the words but no sound comes out and his face lights up like a fat kid in a candy store. 

I can’t help chuckling at him as I fish a cold beer out of the fridge.  “Make that two,” Collin says seeing the beer and practically skipping over to my side, “Is there wi-fi? I bet we can catch the game.”

“Sure,” I answer and pop the lids off the ice cold imports. I hand Collin his and take a big swig of my own, then point the bottle neck toward the living room, “TV’s in there,” I tell him, eyes cutting upstairs as I am vaguely aware of voices crossing the catwalk above us to the bedrooms.   

The lake-house is furnished in dark oak wood and glass, a mixture of old and new. 

We settle in, drink our beers and catch the tail end of the Kentucky, K.U. game, before Zayn comes down to join us, “hey where’s mine?” He asks frowning when he sees our empty beer bottles on the coffee table next to my boots.

“You have to carry the bags up to the rooms first,” Collin says, crossing his arms over his chest.

Zayn glares at us, “Someone had to check the house for rapists,” he flexes his muscles and seeing our disgusted expressions, drops his arms and says, “Maddie’s words, not mine.”

“Let her carry the bags then.” I don’t bother to hide the bitterness in my tone.  

I’m sitting back down after distributing fresh beers to the guys when Mattie comes down the stairs wearing nothing but a towel and
whatever
is underneath.  “Jacuzzi anyone?” She calls. I face the TV, taking a fresh swig of the beer. 

“There’s a Jacuzzi?” Collin jumps to his feet. 

“Are you sure you want to be in a Jacuzzi when there’s lightning outside?” A strange voice asks and I look over to see Trin, hood up still, hands stuffed in her pockets, coming down the stairs.

Maddie, in response to Trin’s question, makes a face at Collin that I catch but Trin can’t see from her angle, “Come on, Trin, it’ll be fun.” Maddie counters, hands on her thin waist, shaking her head from side to side and rolling her eyes behind the girl’s back.

“No thanks.”

Maddie sighs, “Zayn? Logan?” She looks over at us sitting on the couch.

“I’m good,” I say, taking another drink of the beer and zoning back into the game.

Zayn shifts uncomfortably, “Is Jaz going?”

“She’s coming, of course,” Maddie replies, and taking Collin’s hand she flashes me a dirty look and leads him out the back door. 

“Well,” Zayn shifts uncomfortably beside me as the door to the patio slides shut, “I guess I’ll go get my trunks on.”

“Dude…” I reply, giving him a wounded look and holding out the beer, gesturing towards the game. 

I sense the new girl moving slowly around the room, browsing momentarily at the bookshelves, running her small hands over Maddie’s mom’s glass figurine collection, then wandering over to the window and staring out at the rain. 

Zayn shrugs, drains his beer and disappears up the stairs. 

I am keenly aware of the fact that it is just me and Trin, and it feels rude not to talk to her.  I try to think of something to say.  “So, how do you know Maddie?” I finally spit out, putting an arm up on the back of the sofa and looking over at her.  

She jumps at the sound of my voice and turns toward me, her face still shrouded under the hoodie. 
Is she going to wear that all night?
  “I don’t really…know her,” she answers, “I’m still trying to figure out why she invited me.” She turns back to the bookshelf.

That makes two of us
, I think, “Can I get you something to drink?” I ask her, changing the subject. She turns around and I see her lips part to respond but there’s a squeal and we both turn to see Zayn chasing Jasmine down the stairs snapping a towel at her.  When they shut the patio door behind them silence descends over the room again.  I glance at the TV, checking the score. 

Finishing my second beer, I stretch, yawn, stand up, grab the empties and go to the kitchen, tossing them in the recycling bin.  “So how about that drink, new girl,” I tease, trying to be friendly, finally feeling a happy buzz.

“I have a name,” she retorts, turning my way, her arms crossed protectively around herself and walks over to me, taking graceful steps, she joins me at the bar and slides up onto a stool.  “It’s Trin,” She extends her little hand, palm up, for a handshake.

Smiling, I wipe my hands on a kitchen towel and take her hand in mine feeling a sort of  electricity pass between us but it’s gone before I’m sure it’s real, “Logan,” I murmur, then release her hand, step back and rub my palms together, “So what’s your poison,
Trin
?”

She shakes her head causing the hood of her jacket to fall.  I inhale sharply. Her right cheek is purple and swollen.  She must have forgotten about the bruise because she sees my expression, she absently touches her cheek, winces, and shoves the hood back over her head again. 

I don’t know this girl.  No telling what her home-life is like.  What I do know, somehow, is that even though she will try to tell me the bruise is from falling or running into a wall, it isn’t.  Someone hit her hard.  But why? I’m about to open my mouth and ask her what happened when she answers my previous question, “I’ll just have some water,” she murmurs, “I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Why not?”

“Well one; we’re underage, so it’s illegal and two; we’re currently under a tornado watch sooo…” her voice trails off and she’s avoiding my eyes, tearing at her fingernails.

“So…”

“So,” she says, grabbing the edge of the counter and raising her eyebrows, “I guess I’ll take whatever you’re having,” she flashes me a shy smile and, under the hood, her green eyes twinkle in amusement.  

“Nice,” I laugh and kneel down to grab a beer from the cooler under the bar, popping off the lid before I hand it to her.  “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” she says in a low whisper, accepting the bottle with both hands and looking nervously out the window.

We hear Maddie shrieking and both of us look out the window to see them chasing each other around the Jacuzzi and jumping back into the water. “That’s
really
dangerous,” Trin notes, “they could get electrocuted.”