SPIN

by K. J. Farnham

  ~Jenna

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Keeley

  Sunday, October 29, 2017

  Two Days After Jenna’s Disappearance

  “I’m making a rustic pasta salad for lunch, but it won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes or so. Do you girls want some?”

  “No, we’re fine for now,” I say, eager to go to my room with Delaney to finish the conversation we started at church about Thomas.

  “What about you, Delaney? Can I get you something?”

  “No, thanks, Mrs. Simon. I had two of Mrs. Kimble’s raisin bran muffins and a croissant after church. “Can I have something to drink, though? Thanks for the ride, by the way.”

  “No problem. No sense in your mom driving you when we were headed here anyway.” My mom smiles at Delaney, and I feel relieved that she seems to have forgotten about the whole Dustin and Delaney thing. “So, what are you girls planning to do today?”

  “We thought we might check social media to see if anyone mentioned Jenna since Friday night.”

  “Oh! That’s a great idea. I’m guessing you’ve already taken a look at Jenna’s?”

  “Yeah, she hasn’t posted anything in weeks,” Delaney says.

  “Huh,” my mom says, going back to chopping the celery for her salad. “That’s unusual isn’t it?”

  Delaney and I nod and glance at each other. “She’s never really been into social media,” I say.

  “Well, why don’t you girls go scan the media stuff, and I’ll bring you both some fresh iced tea in a bit.”

  “That would be great,” Delaney says.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I motion for Delaney to follow me out of the kitchen.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a little snack too? Maybe some celery and peanut butter?” my mom calls after us.

  “Sure, why not,” I holler back, knowing she probably won’t stop pushing food on us until we accept something.

  As Delaney and I head upstairs to my room, I think about how Jenna loved celery and peanut butter and how she used to bring ants on a log in her lunch when we were in grade school. She traded me one for a plum once, and it was the first time I’d ever had ants on a log. The memory causes tears to well up in my eyes. Jenna goes through a little rebellious rough patch, and what did Delaney and I do? We turned our backs on her. Who would have thought something as simple as celery and peanut butter could make me feel so guilty?

  When we enter my room, Delaney heads straight for my dresser. She removes a tube of gloss from her pocket and applies a fresh coat, puckering her lips at herself in the mirror.

  I stand next to her in front of the corkboard hanging above my desk, my attention again on the old group picture of Jenna, Delaney, and me from the summer before seventh grade. I touch the outer corner of my right eye, remembering the bruise I had for a week after the photo was taken because the camera slipped out of my hands after I snapped the shot. We’re all lying on our backs with our heads in the center of the merry-go-round at Jolliet Park. Jenna was wearing her favorite floral headband. Delaney had on a sundress, and her hair was flowing in golden waves outstretched to meet mine and Jenna’s heads. Jenna and I were excited to finally be able to join a cross country team, so we’d just run two miles.

  “So . . . about Thomas. Do you think there’s something up with him and Jenna?” Delaney asks, pulling me from the memory. She takes a seat on my bed and grabs the August 2017 edition of Runner’s World magazine from my nightstand and begins flipping pages.

  “I don’t know what to think,” I say, tacking the photo back up. “Maybe the weird feeling I got from him this morning was for no reason. I just can’t seem to stop thinking up the worst possible reasons to explain why Jenna hasn’t contacted anyone. You know?”

  “Right, but what about how he ran out to ask me questions about her last night? And it’s so weird how she started spiraling out of control when her family moved back to town. I mean, she hasn’t seen them for years. And remember how much it used to irritate her when her mom would say what wonderful kids her cousins are—how perfect her Aunt Lenore’s family is. Makes me wonder if Jenna’s always been so hard on herself, wanting to be perfect at everything, just to keep up with that standard. Maybe them moving back made her feel pressured to be even more perfect and she just snapped.”

  These are some of the deepest thoughts I’ve ever heard from Delaney, and they actually make sense. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re on to something.”

  “I mean,” she finally looks up from the magazine, “she traded in celery and peanut butter for weed. And she traded in those Kevita drinks she loves so much for booze. Oh, and her sweet, virginal girl next door reputation? Ancient history.”

  “Come on, Delaney. We don’t know for sure if any of those rumors were true.” I break eye contact with her because we both know there’s usually some truth to a rumor.

  “And you know what? The drugs and the sex aren’t even the biggest issues to me. It’s not like I’m all that innocent,” she mumbles. “The thing I’m really pissed about is how she treated us—the way she yelled at us in front of everyone that night and then again in the cafeteria.” She shakes her head as if shaking the bad memory away and looks back down at the magazine.

  “Yeah, that was pretty shitty.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes, Delaney flipping and me pondering for the hundredth time why Jenna was so angry with Delaney for babysitting for Stella and why she was so against Eli and me liking each other. I thought she’d be happy that I finally liked someone.

  Delaney finally breaks the silence.

  “I can’t believe you still read magazines. Why don’t you just use their website?”

  “I got a two-year subscription for my birthday last year,” I say with a shrug.

  “Why do you have all of these places starred?” She holds the Runner’s World up and turns it to face me for a second. It’s open to a map of marathons and half-marathons voted best in the country in 2016.

  “Those are the ones Jenna and I want to do someday.”

  “Hawaii?”

  “You never know. Hopefully, Jenna gets back into her running groove soon. I don’t know if I’d be able to do any of those without her.” Instead of worrying about betraying Jenna by ratting her out for all the shit she’s been doing lately, I’m starting to feel more like a traitor for not worrying much sooner about why she’s been doing so much stupid shit. Suddenly angry with myself, I say, “We should have done or said something a month ago . . . two weeks ago . . . hell, even a week ago.”

  Delaney nods and studies me for a second. Then her eyes begin to tear up like mine. “Keeley, I need to tell you something, and you have to promise you won’t judge me for it.”

  “Yeah, of course,” I say, wiping each of my eyes with the back of my hand. “What is it?”

  “So, we both know Jenna and I were never as close as the two of you were with all the running you’ve always done together. Hell, we all know I can barely run a mile without stopping to rest. Anyway, I have to admit . . .” She sighs heavily. “I’ve always been a little jealous because of it.”

  “Oh, my gosh, Delaney, why would I judge you for being jealous? I’ve been jealous of the two of you too, like when you’ve gone school shopping together. But it was something the two of you shared without me so . . .”

  “No,” Delaney says, shaking her head, “that’s not what I’m worried about you judging me for.”

  “Okay, what then?”

  “Well, after Jenna yelled at me and we stopped hanging out with her, I guess it felt good to not always feel like I was competing for your friendship. No, that isn’t right. I don’t guess; I know. It felt good. It was a load off. And now it feels like the load off has been reloaded times three, like the little bit of relief I felt that I didn’t have to compete with her anymore weighs more heavily on me than all the times I felt jealous of you two put together.” A tear trickles down Delaney’s cheek and I quickly wipe it away.

 
“Hey, it’s okay. I get it. No judgement here. I know it probably won’t help much, but you weren’t the only person she yelled at. Remember? She yelled at Dustin, Eli, and me too.”

  Delaney nods and sniffles. “All right,” Delaney says, returning the magazine to my nightstand and picking up her phone, “should we scroll through social media?”

  I’m a little surprised she’s changed the subject already, but that admission must have been hard for Delaney, so I just let it go.

  “You check Snapchat, and I’ll check Instagram?” I say, grabbing my phone. Delaney nods, and I start scrolling through my Instagram feed. I click to view each friend’s profile and quickly begin feeling overwhelmed. Looking at hundreds of posts and stories since Friday is going to take hours.

  “Christ, this is going to take forever,” Delaney voices my concern. “Maybe we should just think of the people most likely to have had contact with her and start by checking their profiles only?”

  I stand up to grab a pad of lined lime green Post-it notes and a pen from my desk. Then I write People Who Might Have Seen Jenna at the top. “We could start with Matt Sanford,” I say, adding his name to the list. “He works at Taco Mama’s, and you know how Jenna loves their fajitas. Maybe she went there this weekend.”

  I click to view the list of Instagram accounts I follow, and Delaney opens her list of Snapchat friends. Then we reason aloud why various people might be worth contacting.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re sipping iced tea and staring at a list of four names. Matt Sanford, Jamie Harvey, Tyson Harvey, and Lou Tang.

  “Four out of over a thousand?” Delaney laments. She sighs and rakes her fingers through her hair a few times, making it look disheveled. “Plus, Lou hasn’t used Snapchat in over a year, and none of them hardly ever post pics of people on Instagram.”

  “Yeah, well, keep in mind that most of your friends list overlaps with my Instagram list, and the only person at school Jenna has really been talking to lately is Leighton so . . .” I realize what we’re doing is pointless. “Anyway, I have Tyson’s number, so how about if I call him and Jamie, and you message Matt and Lou?

  Delaney sighs then says, “Fine.”

  I locate Tyson’s number in my phone but don’t call right away because I’m pondering exactly what I’m going to say. The Harvey brothers are a year older than us, and we’ve known them since grade school. We’d probably still hang out with them like we did in middle school if they didn’t hang out with rougher crowds and party hardcore every weekend. Jenna and I used to talk about Jamie and Tyson’s transformation over the years. In grade school, they were both model students. Jamie even played football freshman year, and Tyson is a really good basketball player. But they don’t participate in anything anymore. No sports. No dances. Definitely nothing fun like spirit week activities or school plays or fundraisers. All they seem to do is get high, sleep in class, and go to the bathroom to vape. It’s like the teachers have given up on them because I’ve never heard of them getting detention or suspended for anything. My dad says people are products of their environments, but I’m starting to disagree with him. Mr. Harvey is some bigwig at Miller Brewing Company, and Mrs. Harvey is a college professor. And then there’s Jenna. Her family is wonderful. Her mom might be a little overprotective at times, but both of her parents are supportive and loving. So why are any of them doing the things they’re doing?

  “Hey . . . Matt says he didn’t see Jenna at all this weekend, but he’ll ask around, and Lou hasn’t gotten back to me. I doubt he’ll respond. Are you going to call Tyson or what?” Delaney says, throwing her palms up.

  “Yep. Right now,” I say as I press to connect the call.

  Tyson answers after the second ring. “What’s up?”

  “Tyson? It’s—”

  “Nope. It’s Jamie.”

  “Oh, hey, Jamie. It’s Keeley. I’m calling to—”

  “Keeley Simon? Wait, don’t tell me. You’ve decided to take a walk on the dark side just like your girl, Jenna?

  “Jamie, did you guys see Jenna this weekend?”

  “Nah, but I saw her like two weeks ago at Leighton’s.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she was pretty messed up.”

  “What’s he saying?” Delaney whispers. I signal for her to wait a second.

  “What were you doing there? I didn’t know you hung out with Leighton.”

  “I don’t, but a buddy from the south side asked if I’d drop some stuff off. He actually seemed pretty cozy with Jenna that night, which might have surprised me a couple months ago, but ya know . . . people surprise you sometimes.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” I say. “Hey, do you know if your friend has seen Jenna since then?”

  “Pft. I doubt it. He isn’t exactly into dating one girl.”

  “Well, could you maybe ask him?”

  “What? Why?”

  “Jamie, you and Tyson might as well know because I’m sure word will get around, but Jenna hasn’t been home since Friday.”

  “Yeah? Well, maybe she’s partying.”

  “No, I don’t think she’d party for two days straight without contacting anyone.”

  “Fair enough, but you never know, right? Who would have thought Jenna Kemp would be hanging out with losers like my brother and me?” He emits a self-deprecating chuckle.

  “Whatever. You guys aren’t losers.”

  “Yeah, okay, Keeley.”

  “So, will you please ask your friend if he saw her at all this weekend? And can you ask him today?”

  “Sure. Hang on, I’ll text him right now.”

  “He’s texting a friend who he says was with Jenna a couple weeks ago,” I whisper to Delaney.

  “What friend?” she whispers back.

  “Some guy from the south side. That’s all he said. Oh, and they were at Leighton’s.”

  Delaney rolls her eyes.

  “Hey, Keeley.”

  “Yeah, what did he say?”

  “He said . . . hang on, I’ll read it to you . . . Nah done with those girls.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, that’s Bob.”

  “Well, thanks for asking him, Jamie.”

  “Yeah, no problem. If Tyson and I see or hear anything about Jenna, we’ll let you know. Don’t sweat it, though. Jenna will make her way back to the bright side soon,” he says with a chuckle.

  “Well?” Delaney says.

  I shake my head. “His friend hasn’t seen her.”

  “Keeley?” my mom says as she opens the door a crack. “A couple of police officers are here, sweetheart.”

  “Oh . . . God, okay. Should we both—”

  “Just you, Keeley. Delaney, I texted your mom. She’s on her way. One of the officers said your mom needs to be present when they talk to you. But Keeley, they’d like to speak with you right now.”

  Throwing a sweatshirt over my head, I rush for the door. Why is my heart beating so fast? And why do I feel like I’ve done something wrong? Maybe it’s because the cops probably wouldn’t even be here if you’d forced Jenna to tell you what’s going on with her. Maybe whatever phase she’s going through would have been nipped in the bud by now.

  “Keeley, come on.” My mom waves me forward and starts walking down the hall toward the stairs.

  My eyes meet with Delaney’s just before I turn into the hallway. She looks just as scared and wracked with guilt as I feel.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Sunday, September 10, 2017

  Six Weeks Before Jenna’s Disappearance

  Jenna removed her diary from the second drawer of her nightstand and sat on her bed staring at it for a few minutes. The pill she’d taken before church had completely worn off, so she was debating whether to take another dose because she was starting to crave the numb feeling. She’d discovered on Friday night that alcohol mimicked the same sensation as the Tylenol PM, only it didn’t make her feel like passing out, not right away at least. So, she decided that it would be
best to take the pills only when she went to church or when she was staying home. She was sure she could get her hands on some alcohol to self-medicate for other occasions.

  She glanced over at the digital clock on her nightstand. It was a little after noon, so she knew her mom would be calling up to her to come down and eat something. She’d already decided she wasn’t hungry, though, and just felt like going to sleep. But first, she wanted to add an entry to her diary. Since she hadn’t been running well lately, writing down her thoughts seemed like the only way she had left to vent her frustrations.

  She opened her diary and began to write.

  September 10, 2017

  Dear Diary,

  We went to church today, as usual, and it sucked. Even though I’ve upped the number of pills I’ve been taking to two, I still couldn’t stop wondering which people at church have bad things to hide. I mean, I like to think most people are good, but what we think and reality are different a lot of times. Who’s pretending to be something they aren’t? Who’s only there to hide who they really are? Who’s cheating on their spouse? Who hits their wife or children? Who’s a sick twisted pedophile?

  My mom thinks going to church cleanses your soul. Does everyone need cleansing? What about me? Do I?

  How can he claim to be a servant of God anyway? Does being at church and serving God cleanse HIS soul? Because if God allows that, I’d rather not go to church ever again. I don’t need that kind of God.

  What if there are more like him? What if he’s done what he did to me to others? Did he harass anyone else while he was away? What about his wife? Is she a sicko just like him? How else is it possible that she can’t see it in his eyes? Then again, no one can. He’s good at hiding it. Like today when he was giving a speech to the congregation, saying how excited he is to serve the youth of our church community. The look in his eyes was so normal. The sickness I’ve witnessed so many times wasn’t there. How does he hide it?