The Obsession

by Jesse Q Sutanto

  Another guy. The thought of the couple Josh and I had run across earlier flashed through my mind, and even though that girl had turned out to not be Delilah, my stomach lurched sickeningly. Bile rose, and I had to fight to keep it down. The last thing I wanted was to puke in Delilah’s room. But the thought of her with some other guy…

  No. I couldn’t let myself even think of that possibility.

  A small voice whispered, Yes, but that happened with Sophie, didn’t it? She left you for some other guy. Or guys, rather. She couldn’t have enough of them. And now with Detective Brandon Jackson out of Delilah’s life, maybe she’ll want to date around for a bit.

  I put my hands over my ears and squeezed my eyes shut, willing the voice to shut up. But it wouldn’t. It kept whispering, getting louder and louder until it was shouting, filling my entire head with its hateful words. She’ll never love you the way you love her, she’ll leave you, she’ll find a way, and you’ll never see her again.

  I jumped from her bed and paced her room, muttering at the voice to shut up. I wouldn’t let that happen. I’d—

  What? I’d what?

  Well, I didn’t have to do anything. I had the video. She’d never dare leave me, not while I had the video of her killing Detective Jackson.

  Yes, but the video is also the reason she won’t ever love you. Not truly. Because you’re blackmailing her into being with you.

  I shook my head. Not true. She was in love with me, I could tell. Those XOs she left at the end of every message, those cakes…

  Just a ruse. No, see, she doesn’t understand how cruel the world can be. She doesn’t know, even after the way Brandon hurt her, she doesn’t know that you’re her only sanctuary. It’s hopeless. Without you, she’ll only get hurt again. She’ll run into another bad guy. If you want her to be truly yours, forever and ever, you’ll need to make sure nothing bad ever happens to her. Her life is so chaotic right now. It needs order. It needs saving. And to save her, you need to take it, take her life—

  “NO!” I shouted. Everything shattered into silence. No, no. I couldn’t go down that route. Not again. Not after Sophie.

  But that’s just it, isn’t it? You didn’t do it with Sophie. You didn’t save her, and when she died, she was alone, and she died hating you.

  Tears coursed down my face. Sophie did die hating me. In those final days, her last words to me had been a hushed: Just go, Lolo. Nobody understands. I did. I understood. But she wouldn’t, couldn’t believe me. I still remembered that day so clearly. I’d climbed up the tree outside her window, moving like a goddamn monkey. I’d done it dozens of times before, though she didn’t know it. I knew which branches to go for, which ones were cracking and had to be avoided. I was so happy. I’d bought a first edition of her favorite book, Alice in Wonderland, and I was sure she’d finally smile at that, she had to. I finally reached her window, and there she was, my princess, my Sleeping Beauty. She was lying so sweetly in her bed. I pried the window open and climbed in noiselessly. Placed the book on her study desk. I walked closer, heart thudding so fast and so hard. I just wanted to touch her hair. And I did. So soft and silky, like a feather. I couldn’t help it. I touched her cheek. And stopped. That was when I knew. She was no longer breathing. Something imploded inside me then. I moved like lightning. I practically jumped out of her window. I twisted my ankle when I landed, but I barely felt it. I sprinted all the way back to campus and shut myself up in my room and waited for the news of her death.

  I couldn’t let the same thing happen with Dee. I couldn’t stomach it if I lost her the same way.

  Blink.

  “Logan?”

  I was—where the hell was I? It took a second to recognize my surroundings. I was outside of Delilah’s house. And of course, Detective Mendez was right in front of me, her concerned gaze piercing my skin.

  Seeing her was like having a bowl of ice water flung in my face. I brushed myself off and blinked a few times, trying to clear my head.

  “Hi, Logan,” she said. Her gaze darted from me to my schoolbag, and then to my tousled hair, which I belatedly realized had broken twigs and leaves in it. How the hell did I get all this crap in my hair? When I touched my face, my fingers came away greasy. Jesus. When was the last time I washed my face? Took a shower?

  “Hey.” I should say something else, try to charm her or whatever, but my thoughts were all scrambled, harried and panicked and, above all, coated with a thick layer of rage. She’d come to my sanctuary, violated this place that belonged to Delilah and me. I wanted to reach out and shake Detective Mendez hard, hard enough to make her head flop back and forth like a rag doll.

  Somewhere, deep in the tangled forest of my mind, a warning bell was ringing. This anger, this sudden rush of red rage, wasn’t normal. Was it? How did anyone know what was normal and what wasn’t?

  “Everything okay? What are you doing here?” That came out a lot more accusatory than I’d intended. I swallowed and tried to smile.

  “Oh, I just came by to see Delilah’s mom. Is she in?”

  “No. No one’s in,” I said, quickly. Too quickly.

  Confusion crossed her face. “No one’s home? What brings you here then?”

  Shit, shit! I tried to come up with something viable, something not at all suspicious, but my mind was glue. “I just wanted to surprise Dee.” Which was normal, right? Boyfriends surprised their girlfriends all the time, especially when they were really into said girlfriend.

  But instead of looking mollified, Detective Mendez looked even more concerned, her frown gouging deep into her forehead. “Did Delilah give you a key to her house?”

  “I…”

  “You came out of the house. I’m guessing you had a key?”

  “Um, yeah, she lent me her key.”

  “So she knows you’re here? I thought you said it was supposed to be a surprise?”

  Jesus, won’t this bitch just let up already?

  “Yeah, um, the surprise was something I was leaving for her inside. Flowers,” I added before she could ask.

  “That’s so sweet,” Detective Mendez said, smiling. The smile did not reach her eyes.

  “I’m going to be honest with you, Logan. I’m looking into a drug case. Know anything about that?”

  I didn’t have to fake my surprise. What with Delilah and Detective Jackson and Sophie, drugs were the last thing on my mind. “Drugs?” I asked.

  “Come on, you must have heard something about it. Seems like every other kid at school knows where to get recreational drugs.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve seen a couple of kids smoking pot, but I don’t know where they got it.”

  “I’m not just talking about the occasional pot, Logan. I’m talking about hard drugs. Ecstasy, cocaine, maybe a few prescription drugs.”

  My eyes widened. “Er—you got me there. I really don’t know anything about that.” I frowned. I was being entirely honest here, but Detective Mendez was staring at me like she’d just caught me with white powder all over my face. “Hang on, I thought you’re in homicide. If there’s a drug case, shouldn’t it be handled by the DEA or something?”

  Detective Mendez snorted, a bitter sound. “Not in a small town like ours, not until we have hard evidence.” She looked me straight in the eye. “I know someone here is dealing. We had a problem with it a couple years ago, but then it died down and we lost the trail. Now someone’s selling again, and I’m betting you kids know more than you’re letting on. You always do.”

  “A couple of years ago? That would be around the time…”

  “That girl passed away, yes.”

  Sophie’s words sliced through my mind. “Nobody can help me, Lolo. I’m all alone.” I couldn’t help wincing. The memory of Sophie in her darkest hour physically hurt. I forced myself to take a breath.

  “What was her name?” Detective Mendez mused.

 
“I—I don’t know—”

  “Sylvia, was it? Sarah?”

  I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t listen to her butchering Sophie’s name. “Sophie,” I blurted.

  Detective Mendez gave me a long look. “You knew her?”

  “No. I mean, I knew of her. She was someone I’d seen around, that’s all. Said hi a few times.” Flashes of me and Sophie sitting in our glade, my hand on hers. Me willing my palms not to sweat, reminding myself not to stare, not to talk too much, not to do anything that might irritate Sophie. Me taking in her presence, her fragrance, all of her.

  “Really sad, what happened to Sophie, wasn’t it?”

  I shrugged. I couldn’t look at Detective Mendez. If I did, she’d see the anger leaping inside me. Don’t say her name like that, like she’s nothing but a case number, you fucking bitch, you fucking—

  “Detective Jackson was looking into the drug case before he died,” she said, and there was something new in her voice, something like disgust or resentment, something bitter and sharp. She was looking at me intently, like a shark that smells blood. “Funny timing, that,” she said. “He told me he’d found something, a clue, and he was going to show it to me. But then that terrible accident happened, and now I’m left wondering what he was about to tell me. And of course there’s that pill we found in his car…”

  Realization dawned with sickening weight. Everything clicked into place, and the world looked different. Detective Mendez suspected foul play was involved, but for a completely different reason. She thought someone had killed Detective Jackson (true) because he’d come too close to cracking a case (so not true). And I didn’t like the way she was studying me. I didn’t like that at all.

  I wanted to grab her arm, hard, dig my fingers into her flesh, and tell her Brandon Jackson had died because he was a massively misogynistic abusive asshole whose hobbies included working on his car, drinking, and beating the shit out of his girlfriend and girlfriend’s teenage daughter. She must have known what a monster the guy was. Did she never suspect what he got up when he was at home? Or, worse, did she know and choose to turn a blind eye to it?

  Not that I could say any of that, of course. All I could do was shrug and say, “I don’t know anything about that. I didn’t even know you guys were looking into a drug case here.”

  Detective Mendez nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving mine. “Okay, Logan. This has been…illuminating. Well, take it easy. And say hi to Delilah for me.” With that, she turned and walked back toward her car, leaving me alone in front of Delilah’s empty house.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Delilah

  Poor, sweet Logan. He wasn’t doing well. Fidget, fidget, fidget. I wanted to slam my hand on the table and snap, “Sit. Still!” like he was a squirmy five-year-old on a sugar rush. But patience. Oh, patience. My plan required it in spades.

  We sat at one of the large wooden desks in one corner of the Creighton Reading Room, a large, modern addition to the library. This space was made largely out of glass and metal, sticking out of the brick and mortar building like a glass foot. Sunlight streamed through the windows in golden shafts, and as you worked, you could gaze out of the great glass panes and look across the green expanse of the Western Gardens. White and yellow flowers were in bloom at the moment, frosting the landscape. Pa would have loved Draycott. He would’ve been happy to know that his death had at least allowed me to go to school at a place like this. The thought of Pa made my throat tighten, and I cleared it and shook my head. I glanced at Logan, who was frowning at a spot a couple of inches above his laptop and scratching his neck and, of course, fidgeting.

  “You okay?” I asked. It was obvious he wasn’t, but I had to keep up appearances.

  He shrugged.

  “Only you weren’t at lunch today…” Not that I minded, of course. Him not turning up for lunch meant I didn’t have to sit with him and his freakishly upbeat friends. I’d actually had a pleasant lunch with Aisha, where we’d discussed ideas on how to break into Logan’s room.

  He glanced at me like he was seeing me for the first time. “Oh, yeah. Something came up. Sorry.” His face was creased with some unfamiliar emotion.

  I watched him out of the corner of my eye, imagining him as the little rat being dangled over Lucy’s cage. How would he react if the tables were turned and I was the predator and he was the prey? Probably not very well. I went through the list of adverse effects he should be feeling from all the MDMA I’d been dosing him with. Increased anxiety, check. Restlessness, check. Paranoia, check. Those were all side effects he’d get when he came down off the drugs. I’d also helpfully added some Ambien to help with the anxiety. I didn’t want him to be too restless, after all. I could barely keep up with non-drugged-out Logan. The last thing I wanted was for him to spiral out of control before I was ready.

  I glanced at the online application on my computer and sighed. I’d suggested working on our early admissions application for NUS together, but there was no way I could focus on that right now. Instead, I took out a Tupperware container and opened it. Logan looked like he could use a bit of a high right now. The smell of chocolate filled the air.

  “Brownies?” I asked, holding the container out to Logan. “Baked them last night.”

  Some of the sadness leaked away from his face, and he smiled. “You’re too good to me,” he said, taking a piece of brownie. He gazed at me with such adoration, it made me want to punch him in the throat. The brownie went down nice and easy. Probably didn’t even taste anything, he was so far removed from here.

  He took another piece, and another. Uh-oh. An image of the unfortunate mice I’d experimented with flashed through my mind. The two that died did not go gently into that good night. I couldn’t afford to let Logan overdose here, as tempting as that was. I closed the container and stuffed it back in my bag. “I think that’s enough for now.”

  “Huh? Oh, heh. Can’t help it, these are really good.” He stuffed his third piece in his mouth. Fidget, fidget. He really wasn’t looking well.

  “Have some water,” I said, handing him a bottle.

  Logan gulped down the water and sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s so hard to focus on my essay with all this shit going on.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s…stuff from my past. It’s not important.”

  The only stuff I knew from his past had to do with Sophie, but saying her name out loud to Logan felt all sorts of wrong.

  “Okay, well, if you ever wanna talk about it…” Not that I cared, but it might give me some information I could use.

  “Thanks, Dee.” He smiled, and for a second, he was the old Logan—charming, golden, healthy. Only for a second, though. He resumed shifting and squirming and running his fingers through his greasy hair. “Anyway!” he said suddenly, clapping loudly. “College apps. Let’s do this!” He rubbed his hands together. I resisted the urge to reach out and smack them so they’d stop flying everywhere.

  “I heard from Aisha that you guys had a college prep thing over the summer where they taught you the basics of what to include in your college essay,” I said.

  “Yep. They pretty much guided us through everything. I actually wrote my college essay then and there.”

  “Wow.” I chewed my lip. An idea was taking root. Could this be my chance to stop Logan from following me all the way to NUS? “Can I take a look so I have an idea what colleges are looking for?”

  “Anything for you.” He slid his laptop around to face me, took out his cellphone, and began tapping on it.

  “Thanks.” I skimmed the first page, my heart beating in my throat. This was it. My chance to keep him from NUS. I sighed theatrically. “You’ve got quite a few grammatical errors in here. It’s driving me bonkers.”

  Logan focused his eyes on me and grinned. “Who would’ve known that you’re the grammar police?”

  “I’m gon
na edit this. Don’t worry, I’ll use Track Changes.”

  “Thanks, babe. You’re so sweet.”

  Babe. Ugh.

  I started typing so he’d stop talking to me. I was almost all the way through Logan’s essay, which was annoyingly well-written, when he got up.

  “Gonna go to the restroom,” he said.

  I froze. He was actually going to leave me alone with his computer. I wasn’t sure if pre-drugged-out Logan would’ve been so careless. I waved him off as casually as I could, still typing and making changes to his essay. As soon as he was out of sight, I minimized the document window, clicked on the computer icon, and called up a search. I went through the list of words he might’ve saved the video under.

  Delilah.

  Brandon.

  Jackson.

  Wong.

  Camaro.

  No luck. I looked through his recently opened files. Still no luck. I opened the internet browser and looked at his search history. Sweet Jesus. He’d not only done an extensive search on me, he’d also done his homework on Aisha and Mom and Pa. Sick, sick fuck. When I finally get rid of you, I’m going to—no, focus. I scrolled down the list, chewing on my lip. Where could he have hidden the file? He wouldn’t stick with the one copy he had on his phone; he must’ve made several copies. I’d planned on finding them and deleting them all, but here I was, unable to locate even one.

  I was so engrossed in looking for the video I almost didn’t hear Logan coming back. He was at the desk before I noticed, and I started, barely having time to close the browser before he leaned over and took a peek.

  “Doing a little snooping, are we?”

  “Um—” Thinkfastthinkfastthink!

  “That’s okay, it’s only natural to be curious when you like someone.” The kindness in his voice grated.