Even Keeley doesn’t see it. She shook his hand, and he touched her back. How does she not feel the evil in him? I want her and Delaney to hate him just like I do. But they don’t.
So, I continue to mask how I feel with fake smiles. It sort of feels like I’m trying to run away from the memories, but I can’t move my legs. I’m stuck. And not only that, everyone is still moving around me, and they’re all just waving as they pass thinking I’m still keeping up. Well, I’m not. I’m losing ground fast.
What am I going to do, Diary? I can’t choose whether I see him or not. I’m stuck, and the only thing I can do to deal is pretend nothing happened. How am I supposed to do that?
~ Jenna
When Jenna put her diary back in the drawer and grabbed the bottle of Tylenol PM, her phone vibrated next to her. She immediately felt guilty for wishing everyone would just leave her alone because she knew she didn’t really want that from her close friends. What she really wanted was to not feel ashamed every time she looked into their eyes. She felt like a liar for hiding her secret from them—from everyone—all these years. But she’d decided that telling someone now would only make her look like a fool. She also feared no one would believe her.
After popping another pill, bringing her total count for the day to three, she lay back and checked her messages.
Dustin: Hey, I need new b-ball shoes. Want to go to the mall with me?
Keeley: I’m going for a run later on. You feeling up to it yet? (Friendly reminder: vodka and XC don’t play well!) First meet on Tuesday!
Jenna definitely didn’t feel like going to the mall, but she considered Keeley’s running invitation since she wasn’t able to run the day before and had skipped out on practice on Thursday. She began composing a response but ended up closing her eyes. It was supposed to be for just a moment, but almost instantly, she’d fallen into a deep nightmare-less sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dustin
Sunday, October 29, 2017
Two Days After Jenna’s Disappearance
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. I repeat the thought over and over, my eyes closed and my forehead resting on our kitchen table. But then someone mentions her name again, and my thought pattern is broken. There’s no more denying it or wishing it wasn’t true. The two police officers leaving our house right now are proof that Jenna is missing.
The front door closes and the living room goes silent. The only thing I can hear is the sound of my heart beating in my ears, and my skull is pulsing to the beat. I sit upright and rake my fingers through my hair a few times before resting my head in my hands. The light streaming through our kitchen windows pierces the spaces between my fingers, making me feel even more disoriented.
“Oh, Dustin . . .” my mom laments when she enters the kitchen. My eyes are still closed, but I sense that my parents are standing on either side of me.
My dad clears his throat. “Hey, Buddy,” he says, placing a hand on my back, “Detective Collins gave me his card, so . . . if you think of anything else that might be helpful, we can call him directly.”
He removes his hand, and I hear the chairs on either side of me being pulled out.
I open my eyes but still don’t make eye contact with my parents. Now that they know what’s been going on with Jenna, I just can’t. They listened as I told the officers how I drove to her house that night like a stalker and left. Why the hell didn’t I ring the doorbell that night? Even if she wasn’t home, her parents would have realized she was gone at that point. Now she’s been gone for God knows how long. Then they asked if I’d noticed any changes in Jenna lately. I thought about telling them I wasn’t aware of anything unusual, but they were staring at me like they already knew, like they were daring me to lie. So what choice did I have? I just wish my parents hadn’t been there to hear all about Jenna’s moodiness, drinking, and drug use.
“Dustin, why didn’t you tell us what was going on with Jenna? Was your break up really a joint decision like you said? Or was it because of these sudden changes with her?” My mom sounds desperate for answers, but I don’t have any for her. When I don’t respond, she continues, her voice growing louder, possibly angry. “And what about Keeley and Delaney? Why didn’t they say something? I just . . . I don’t understand.” She pauses for a second. “Do you believe this, Brian? Sweet little Jenna Kemp drinking and doing drugs?”
“No, no I don’t. Do you think maybe we should reach out to Bonnie and Joseph? They must be going out of their minds. I know I would be.”
“That’s a good idea,” my mom says as she begins to back her chair away from the table.
“Don’t,” I say, finally breaking my silence. I look from my mom to my dad and then back down at the table.
“Why?” my mom says, lowering herself back into her seat. Then she leans in close to me, craning her neck to make eye contact with me. “Dustin, do you understand how serious this is?”
Something about the accusatory tone in her voice makes me snap.
“You think I don’t know that?” I yell, looking from my mom to my dad, no longer able to contain the slurry of emotions that have been building up inside me over the past several weeks. My mom starts to say something, but my dad holds up a hand to stop her. “I should have gone to the door and knocked and demanded to talk to her that night. If she was there, maybe that would have prevented her from going wherever she went. And if she wasn’t there, then Mr. and Mrs. Kemp would have known much sooner that she was gone. And even before I went to her house, I should have called when she didn’t show up. And even earlier that night, I should have agreed to see her as soon as I got her text, and I should have gone to see her immediately.” My chest is heaving, and my eyes are becoming cloudy with tears. “I should have tried to figure out what’s been going on with her weeks ago. I should have been there for her!” I abruptly back my chair away from the table and stand.
“Oh, Dustin . . .” my mom says, standing and moving toward me.
“No,” I say, shaking my head and putting up a hand to keep her away. “I don’t deserve any sympathy. Those are just some of the things I should have done. You don’t know about the things I shouldn’t have done, things that probably made whatever is going on with her worse.”
“Dustin, should’ve would’ve could’ve. Son, you can’t beat yourself up for the choices Jenna has been making,” my dad says. “And there’s no way anything you’ve done or didn’t do had any effect on where she is now.”
“Your dad is right. From what you told Detective Collins, it sounds like Jenna pushed you and her other friends away. There’s only so much you can do in a situation like that.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head, “you’re both wrong. I was wrong too.” I turn and leave the kitchen, throwing over my shoulder, “I need to be alone for a little while.”
When I get to my room, I send a group text to Keeley and Delaney.
Dustin: The police were just here. Where the hell is she?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Wednesday, September 13, 2017
Six Weeks Before Jenna’s Disappearance
“Hey, my mom is on her way. Maybe she could drop us off at the rec center so we can get some miles in on the treadmills.” Keeley leaned against the locker next to Jenna’s as Jenna put on her jacket. It was storming, so cross country practice had been canceled.
Jenna sighed. “Aw, man, I can’t. I already said I’d go over to Leighton’s to work on an economics project.” She threw on her backpack and closed her locker.
“Oh . . . well, how long will you be there? Maybe we can go later. I’m sure my mom would drive us.” Keeley was shocked that Jenna already had plans. They’d only found out an hour ago that practice had been canceled. Not only that, but Keeley hadn’t seen Jenna outside of school or cross country since church on Sunday, and the time before that had been at the disastrous Jolliet party on Friday night.
“Uh, not sure. We just got the assignmen
t yesterday, so we haven’t really had a chance to figure out who’s doing what. A couple hours, I guess,” Jenna said with a shrug. What she didn’t say was that she probably wouldn’t want to go to the rec center even if she didn’t already have plans to go to Leighton’s. Her performance in their first meet the day before was abysmal, and now on top of being a mess emotionally, Jenna’s self-esteem, which had always been connected to her performance as a runner, was suffering too. She was even thinking about quitting the team.
“So, I’m guessing you and Leighton were paired together?” Keeley asked as they started walking toward the stairs at the end of the second-floor hallway.
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. After what Corbin told us about her, I was just surprised to hear you’re going to her house. Do you think what he said was true?”
Jenna shrugged. “Does it really matter? All I’m worried about is getting an A on our project, so as long as she’ll put in some effort to help out, I don’t care if it’s true. Besides, you know Corbin. He’s like the male gossip-queen version of Tina.”
“Yeah,” Keeley said with a laugh, “he kind of is, isn’t he?”
Jenna spotted Leighton near the front doors as soon as she and Keeley exited the stairwell. Dozens of kids were standing around waiting for rides, but her hair made her easy to find.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you later,” Jenna said to Keeley. Leighton glanced over at them and then back outside without saying anything.
“Yeah,” Keeley said, raising her eyebrows at Jenna. “Good luck with your project.”
Jenna waved as Keeley walked out the door, then she turned to Leighton. “Hey, thanks for offering me a ride to your house. Hopefully, we can get everything figured out tonight, so we don’t have to meet up after school again.”
“Yeah, sure. My mom was coming to get me anyway . . . There she is now.” Leighton shoved open the door with her elbow and slipped through so quickly it almost slammed in Jenna’s face. Leighton slipped into the passenger seat of her mom’s car and Jenna into the back. She felt awkward at first when Leighton didn’t introduce Jenna to her mom, but Leighton’s mom swooped in, putting Jenna at ease.
“Hi, there,” she said, smiling at Jenna in the rearview mirror. “I’m Abigail, Leighton’s mom.”
“I’m Jenna. Thanks for the ride.”
“Not a problem. I don’t have to be to work until five, so plenty of time to pick you girls up so you don’t have to get soaked in this downpour. Geez, it’s been raining all day long.” Abigail shook her head. She was wearing hospital scrubs, so Jenna figured she did something in the medical field.
“So, do you live close to school or . . .”
“Yeah, just a few blocks away, right over on Berkeley.”
“Oh,” Abigail said, glancing at Jenna in the mirror again, “nice area. Did you grow up around here?”
“Pretty much. We used to live in West Allis but moved here when I started kindergarten.”
Abigail nodded, keeping her eyes on the road. “So, what do your parents do, Jenna?”
“My mom’s the circulation supervisor at the Briarwood Library, and my dad is an electrician for Custom Concepts Homes.”
Abigail continued to make small talk with Jenna, asking her what she did in her spare time, if she participated in any sports, if she had any brothers or sisters. The whole time, Leighton stared out the window. Jenna wondered what she was looking at because it was pouring. Then it occurred to her that maybe she wasn’t looking at anything and just wanted to stay out of the conversation.
“Well, I’m glad Leighton is having you over. She could use some nice friends.”
Leighton scoffed but stayed focused on the window.
At first, Jenna couldn’t believe that such a friendly woman could have a daughter like Leighton, but then she reminded herself that appearances aren’t always what they seem. There had to be a reason why Leighton acted the way she did.
When the car came to a stop in front of a townhouse, Leighton quickly opened her door and started getting out, but her mom stopped her. “Leighton.”
Jenna gripped the handle of her door and watched as Leighton turned to look at her mom.
“I made some lasagna. It’s keeping warm in the oven. Offer some to Jenna, okay?”
“Yep,” Leighton said as she hopped out and closed the door.
“Nice to meet you, Jenna!” Abigail called after Jenna as she got out of the car.
“You too. Thanks again for the ride.”
“So, what are we doing again?” Leighton asked.
Jenna stared at her from across the table, unsure if she was joking or not.
Leighton stared back, and Jenna took that as confirmation she wasn’t.
“We’re supposed to choose a product or service and create a poster that shows how the four factors of production influence the final good or service that’s produced.”
Leighton rolled her eyes and sighed. Why did teachers always have to make students work with partners? People like me are way better off working alone Leighton thought.
“So what product do you want to use?” Jenna asked, unaffected by Leighton’s attitude.
Jenna’s patience surprised Leighton. Any partner or group work she’d been part of since her freshman year had ended in disaster. She wouldn’t deny it was her fault either. Maybe this time she should just do the work and get the stupid project done.
Leighton shrugged and was about to make a genuine suggestion when her phone buzzed. With a simple glance, she went from being in an okay mood to irritated as hell. She pressed both hands against the table and stood, causing her chair to almost topple over. Then she bent over and retrieved a pack of cigarettes from her backpack.
“Does your mom know you smoke?” Jenna asked, surprised to see someone her age smoking right in the middle of her own dining room.
Jenna’s mom and dad would have grounded her for life.
Leighton scoffed and rolled her eyes again before she lit the cigarette and took a long drag. She exhaled all the smoke out in one long breath and repeated the process two more times before her phone buzzed again.
Jenna looked up from their assignment rubric, first at Leighton as she rushed over to swipe her phone off the table and then at Leighton’s phone. Leighton wasn’t fast enough to prevent Jenna from reading the text and the name of the person who’d sent it.
Dickhead: I miss you, honey.
Leighton took another drag of her cigarette as she glanced at her phone. Then dropped her phone face down on the table and sat back down. She took one last puff before tossing her cigarette stub into a can of Diet Coke. It makes a little thud when it hits the bottom.
“Let’s get to work,” Leighton said, opening her econ folder and pulling out a copy of the rubric. “We need a product, right? Okay, here’s a product.” She pointed to the can of Diet Coke. “Done.” She made a checkmark next to Decide on a product, then jotted down Diet Coke.
Jenna mimicked Leighton’s movements, checking off the first direction and writing Diet Coke., but she couldn’t stop wondering who the text was from. She glanced around the open concept dining area they were sitting in, over to the living room, and then over to the entryway. Next to the door was a shoe rack that was full of female shoes.
“Come on,” Leighton said, tapping the table with her palm a few times, “now we need to decide who’s going to do what.”
“Oh, right.” Jenna looked back down at her rubric. Assign each member their task was indeed up next.
“I suck at writing, but I can draw. So I’ll do the poster if you don’t mind.”
“Yeah, sure, that sounds good,” Jenna said, writing Leighton’s name next to Create the poster and her own name next to Write the one-page explanation.
“Okay, good. So, should we just both research all this stuff,” she said, pointing to the four factors of production, “or should we—”
“Who’s Dickhead?” Jenna asked.
Leighton stared a
t her for a few seconds contemplating whether or not to tell Jenna to mind her own business. She decided not to because she liked Jenna’s directness. “It’s just my psycho dad.”
“Is he really psycho?”
Leighton shrugged. “Anyway,” she said, focusing on the rubric again, “I think this’ll go a lot quicker if you research ingredients and processes, and I research people and production. Or however you want to divide it up. I don’t really care what I research.” She looked up at Jenna.
Jenna resisted the urge to ask another question. Clearly, Leighton didn’t want to talk about why she was so upset over a couple of texts from her dad.
“No, that’s fine. I’ll take ingredients and processes.”
As the girls dug their school-issued Chromebooks out of their backpacks, Jenna thought about how she’d never met anyone like Leighton before. For some reason, she felt drawn to this social outcast—as she’d been labeled by some of Jenna’s friends. With all the pressure she’d felt lately to hide the emotional turmoil going on inside her, she felt free in Leighton’s presence. Maybe it was because Leighton knew absolutely nothing about her so there weren’t any expectations for Jenna to behave a certain way. This realization made Jenna take a deep cleansing breath.
“Are you gonna start working anytime soon so we can just get this research done and you can leave?” Leighton asked, giving Jenna a weird look.
“Yes, ma’am,” Jenna said with a mock salute. Then she opened her Chromebook and smiled to herself. She could have sworn she saw a hint of a curl at the corner of Leighton’s lips.
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