SPIN

by K. J. Farnham

  Jenna: I’m soooooooooo sorry, Keeley. For EVERYTHING. Please call me as soon as you get this.

  Jenna sent the message and then began typing another right away to ask what Keeley remembered about the crowd at the party, but she realized she had to patch things up with Keeley before worrying about her own pride. Whatever Dustin heard about Jenna and whomever he’d heard it from didn’t really matter because the fact was he knew. The thought overwhelmed Jenna and sent her into another fit of tears.

  Out of habit, she threw open her nightstand drawer and reached for the Tylenol PM bottle that was no longer there. Without the ability to self-medicate, she did the only other thing she could think of. She opened her diary and started writing.

  October 1, 2017

  Dear Diary,

  You’re probably sick of hearing about me doing stupid things. Sorry. I can’t seem to help it anymore. I feel like everything is spinning out of control, and I’m at the center watching it all happen. I know I could have skipped the party last night and prevented what happened, but I felt so jealous and angry when I saw Dustin with Phoebe, and I wanted to erase those feelings, just like I’ve been trying to erase all of my memories of Thomas. So tonight I made the decision, somewhere between beer pong and the hot tub that I was going to do something about it once and for all, and I let a boy I barely know have sex with me. I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I felt numb and thought about Dustin the whole time. When it was over, I felt nothing but empty, which actually felt good. Because it was so much better than all of the messed up emotions I’ve been feeling for the past couple months. But the feeling of nothingness was only temporary, and now I’m in an even worse state than I was before I found out Thomas was coming back to Briarwood because I think Dustin found out what I did, and I don’t know if Keeley will forgive me for being a terrible friend to her again.

  ~Jenna

  Jenna closed her diary and out of habit, leaned over to put it away in the second drawer of her nightstand. But just as she was about to let go of it, she realized she had to find a new place for it. She placed her current diary on her nightstand, hopped out of bed, and retrieved a shoebox from her closet. She brought the shoebox back to her bed, set it on her lap, and opened it. The sight of the eight tattered, old diaries almost caused another fit of tears, but she took a few deep breaths and was able to keep them at bay. She looked around her room, contemplating where else she could ensure the safety of her secrets. There wasn’t anywhere.

  Then she caught sight of the old pink and gray canvas bag she used to use for sleepovers at her grandma’s house. It was big and sturdy with a waterproof lining. She rushed over to her open closet with the shoebox full of her old diaries and grabbed the bag off a hook. Then she transferred all the diaries into the bag before adding her old Briarwood High sweatshirt on top and zipping it up. She then forced the bag into her backpack along with her schoolbooks. It barely zipped but she was feeling desperate to protect her secrets, so she’d carry them around with her until she figured out a better solution. The empty shoebox went back in its place in her closet. Then she stood, staring at her current diary and wondering what to do with it. She couldn’t bring herself to stow it away with the others because she wanted to continue using it. Jenna glanced over at her desk where she had a medium-sized storage bin full of craft supplies. She picked up her diary and took it to her desk where she opened the craft bin and pulled out an extra strong Velcro fastener—the kind her mom used to secure a power strip to the wall under Jenna’s desk. She fastened one side to the back of her diary, and then crouched next to her nightstand and secured the matching side to the flat surface underneath. Finally, she secured her current diary in place, out of sight under her nightstand. No one would ever find it.

  The sun streaming through Jenna’s blinds woke her at ten the next morning. Her first thought when she opened her eyes was that it looked like a perfect day for a run. But when she rolled over, the desire to lace up her sneakers dissipated.

  She glanced over at her phone and wondered if her dad had noticed it was gone yet. Then she reached for it, certain Keeley would have responded by now and hoping they could straighten things out before she was forced to give her phone back to her dad. But when she looked at her screen, her heart dropped. The only notification she had was the one for Leighton’s text from the night before.

  Leighton: Hey. That was some pretty heavy stuff we just talked about. I hope you’re okay. I’m here for you anytime you need to vent.

  Jenna didn’t have any memory of venting to Leighton about anything, so instead of texting her back, she called.

  “Hey, you okay?” Leighton asked.

  “No. God no. I’m the furthest thing from okay.”

  Leighton responded with a sympathetic sigh.

  “Leighton, I ditched Keeley, and even worse, I lost my virginity to a guy I don’t even know.”

  “What are you talking about Jenna?”

  “What do you mean? You were there.”

  “I know, but . . . first of all, you didn’t ditch Keeley. She wanted to leave, and you didn’t, so she left without you. So, technically, she ditched you. We’re lucky Sticks was able to pick us up and take us home. And then what do you mean about losing your virginity?”

  The mention of Sticks made something click in Jenna’s brain. There was a gap in time Jenna hadn’t realized she’d lost. Suddenly she remembered, and she was stunned speechless.

  “Jenna? Are you there?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered, now cognizant of the breakdown she had in Sticks’ car and of what she’d told them. “You know about my cousin, about what he did to me all those years.”

  “You don’t remember telling us?”

  “I didn’t a few seconds ago, but I do now . . . I’m sorry for telling you that.”

  “What are you talking about? Why would you apologize? He’s the one who should apologize. He should go to prison for what he did to you, Jenna.”

  “Leighton, please don’t tell anyone about this. No one—”

  “I would not do that to you, not unless you wanted me to. But if I ever see your cousin, I can’t promise I won’t hurt him,” Leighton says with a protective fierceness in her tone.

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course. I don’t tell my friend’s secrets to anyone.”

  The silence in Jenna’s house made her think her family had gone to church without her, but when she entered the kitchen, they were all eating breakfast.

  “Good morning.” Her dad was the first to break the ice.

  “Good morning,” Jenna said as she made her way over to get a glass for juice.

  “By the way, as soon as you’re done with breakfast, I’m going to need your phone back,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her. She nodded.

  “How are you feeling today?” her mom said, looking over the cup of coffee she was holding.

  “Not great.” Jenna took a seat next to her little sister and whispered, “Hey.” But Shaina kept her eyes on her bowl of cereal and didn’t respond.

  “You need to eat something. I’ll make you some eggs,” her mom said, standing.

  “No that’s okay. Juice is enough.”

  “No, I’ll make you eggs, and you’ll eat them.”

  Jenna glared at her mom, resentful of her controlling nature and still pissed about her diary.

  “Jenna,” her mom said, as she fired up a burner, “your dad and I are concerned about you, and it isn’t necessarily about you breaking curfew last night. That’s just part of it. We’ve been talking this morning, and we’ve realized you seem down lately. Is there anything going on that you want to talk to us about?”

  “I think you found out everything you need to know from my diary,” Jenna shot back.

  “Jenna, I apologized for that.”

  Jenna shook her head, not interested in her mom’s apology. She didn’t trust her anymore because she knew that once someone crosses a line, it seems to be much easier to cross it again.

 
Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Dustin

  Tuesday, October 31, 2017

  Four Days After Jenna’s Disappearance

  “Excuse me. Excuse me. Mr. Bock!”

  I look up. Everyone in class does.

  “I thought I made it clear that phones are not allowed during tests,” Mr. Beauchamp taps an index finger on the class rules posted at the front of the room. “Number five, Mr. Bock. Absolutely NO phones during exams. Hand it over.”

  “But, Mr. Beauchamp, they found—”

  “We don’t have time for this, Mr. Bock. You don’t have time for this.” Beauchamp holds his upturned palm in front of my face. “Unless you’d like a zero on this exam, that is.”

  I hand it over with a loud slap against Beauchamp’s hand. One by one, heads lower as everyone gets back to solving problems about logarithms. I lower my head but keep my eyes on Mr. Beauchamp because the stocky, rosy-cheeked man has stopped dead in his tracks and is looking at my phone screen.

  At the end of class, I head up to Mr. Beauchamp’s desk to get my phone. While I wait for him to finish talking to another student, I notice Keeley standing outside the room. I return her wave.

  “Mr. Bock,” Beauchamp says, handing back my phone. “I’m so sorry. Rules are just rules.” He grips my shoulder and gives it a sympathetic squeeze.

  “What was that about?” is the first thing out of Keeley’s mouth. “He’s even more of a hardass than Stickler Sartorius. Why did he touch your shoulder like that?”

  I motion for her to follow me as we weave through the horde of students rushing to class or lunch.

  “What is it? Can’t we walk and talk?” Keeley asks.

  I ignore her and keep walking because it’s pointless to talk with all the noise around us. When we get to a less hectic landing at the top of the stairs, I look down at Keeley and hand her my phone. “Here.”

  “What?” She stares at Jenna’s school picture from this year. It’s displayed at the top of a short article in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel. After a few seconds, she scrolls past it to read the article.

  Teen Jenna Kemp (16) was reported missing by her parents on Saturday evening. Kemp, who is a Junior at Briarwood High School was last seen by a classmate on Friday evening just before nine.

  A police department representative has confirmed that a 43-year-old man has been interviewed by a police detective. He is believed to have information that may lead to the whereabouts of the missing teen.

  According to police reports, the man is associated with Kemp via a popular online chat room. Authorities are now looking into the screening protocol used by this particular site to ensure that users adhere to legal age requirements and are who they say they are.

  Anyone who may have information about the whereabouts of Kemp is encouraged to call the Briarwood Police Department. Kemp is 5’4” and weighs approximately 130 pounds.

  Keeley hands back my phone and says nothing. Her mouth just hangs open, and she stares at the floor.

  “Do you believe this?” I ask. “Forty-three frickin’ years old. What the hell was she thinking?” I ask, angry and hurt by Jenna all over again. “At least that asshole from Glendale was our age.”

  Keeley looks at me, but she still doesn’t say anything.

  “And this guy is believed to have information? What does that even mean?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head and lowering her face into her hands.

  The bell rings, and when it stops, we’re standing in complete silence.

  “This chat room . . . Did you know she was using it?”

  Keeley looks up at me and barely nods.

  “What? Are you kidding me? And you didn’t bother to tell me?” I glance through the windows of the doors to the second-floor hallway, worried that someone might have heard me.

  “I just found out yesterday, and I was going to tell you today.”

  “Ever heard of this nifty thing called texting?” I shake my phone at her.

  She crosses her arms. Her lips start to quiver, and I realize I’m being kind of a jerk.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . freaked out by this,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “So how did you find out she was using it?”

  “Well, Leighton is the one who told us about it first. She also told us about this guy who wouldn’t stop messaging her, but she never said anything about him being forty-three. Then my mom, Delaney, and I went to see Mrs. Kemp last night because . . . well, that’s a long story so never mind. Anyway, Mrs. Kemp said the police called her and told her about this guy Jenna met on ChillChat. When I texted his name to Leighton, she confirmed it was the same guy she knew about, the one mentioned in the article.”

  “My God, Keeley, this is bad. What was she thinking?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “But we better get to lunch.”

  I cringe at the thought of being around everyone because all they’re going to be talking about is this man Jenna has been “chatting” with, and I’m sure everyone will have an opinion I don’t want to hear.

  When we arrive at the table, it’s clear that the cat is out of the bag. No one is eating. Instead, everyone is looking down at their phones. As Keeley and I maneuver into empty spots, I scan a few of the surrounding tables to find the same scenario playing out at each, only some eyes are beginning to set sights on our table. Lara Stapleton is whispering in Rita Spangler’s ear, and they’re both staring at me. I shake my head at them and look away. Then I clear my throat, prompting half of the kids at our table to look up. Delaney glances at me but breaks eye contact right away. I wonder if it’s going to be awkward like this with us forever.

  “Oh my God, did you guys see?” Tina holds her phone up.

  We both nod, and Keeley glares at Tina, probably not in the mood for her gossiping.

  “We did,” I say quickly scanning our table and nodding politely to anyone who looks up at me. No Eli. That’s weird. “Hey, has anyone seen, Eli?” I get several head shakes and a couple nos. I’m sure he and his family have heard about this, and I hope he’s okay.

  “His family is probably really upset about this, so maybe they all stayed home today. You know, to pray or something?” Tommy offers.

  Corbin shrugs. “All I know is if my sister was dating a forty-three-year-old, my parents would be pissed as hell.”

  “Corbin, that’s not really the most disturbing thing about that article,” Delaney says.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” He looks over at me and then at Keeley. “Sorry, guys.”

  “It’s okay, man. It’s hard to know what to say or think about any of this,” I say.

  “What I think,” Tina announces to everyone, “is that we all should have seen something like this coming.”

  “Something like what?” Keeley asks.

  “Oh, come on, Keeley. Everyone knows Jenna has been out of control since school started. I mean, she went from being a homecoming princess last year to being the sad drunk girl at every party.”

  “I can’t even believe you just said that, Tina,” I say, shaking my head and looking around the table. But to my surprise, everyone except Keeley has this look on their faces that tells me they all agree with Tina. I can’t handle any more, so I stand, grab my backpack and leave.

  “Where are you going?” Keeley calls after me.

  I’m too upset to answer, so I just throw my arms up and keep walking. A few seconds later, I hear footsteps behind me. I glance over my shoulder and see Keeley and Delaney catching up to me. It feels like everyone is watching us leave, but then there’s a commotion to our right. All three of us stop and look.

  Leighton has her hands on her hips, and Haley Tompkins is yelling at her. Leighton is holding an empty Coke bottle, and the front of Haley’s shirt is stained brown. When Leighton turns to leave, I catch her eye, and she acknowledges me with a nod. I nod back, wondering if the confrontation we witnessed had anything to do with Jenna.

  Chapt
er Forty

  Monday, October 2, 2017

  Three Weeks Before Jenna’s Disappearance

  Jenna almost didn’t make it to school Monday morning. She couldn’t fathom the idea of walking into Briarwood High because she knew what the hot topic of the day would be. Her.

  To make matters worse, Keeley had never responded to her apology text from early Sunday morning. That wasn’t like Keeley, who always checked her phone throughout each day. As for Dustin, Jenna never got a chance to respond to his cryptic text because she had been forced to hand over her phone, and she wouldn’t be getting it back for at least a few days.

  She could feel eyes on her from the moment she walked through the front doors, and the suffocating sensation stayed with her even after she got to her first class. When she walked through the door, she could have sworn she heard one of the guys who sat near the door whisper her name, and then other whispers followed. Desperate for some sort of friendly connection, she took a chance and glanced at Jordyn and Emily when she walked past their desks. They both gave her the same indecipherable smile, fueled by either embarrassment or pity. Jenna couldn’t tell which, so she decided it was probably both. Either way, it was definitely a bad sign.

  After their creative writing teacher finished explaining the paired writing activity for the morning, everyone scattered to pair up. Jenna just sat there, hoping she’d be the last person without a partner so she could join an already formed pair. That would make it much easier for her to participate as little as possible. But to her dismay, someone must have been absent because there was an even number of students that day, and the last person left without a partner was Haley Tompkins.