I pause to think. “No…It doesn’t ring any bells.”
Claus frowns. “I’m pretty sure that’s what she was called.”
What’s he talking about?
“There was this drinks party for the law firm, and the kids were allowed to go. Someone introduced me to Frank’s daughter, who was hanging out with her friends there. I thought there was another blond girl with them. She was dating one of the boys.”
An ex? Of Lucas or Fender? Why have I never heard them mention her? She must have been Fender’s girlfriend, because Lucas is always going on about having been single forever.
The name Isolde doesn’t mean anything to me. If they’d ever mentioned it, I’d have remembered. It’s not like it’s a common name.
“Hey, I could be wrong,” Claus adds quickly.
“When was this drinks party?”
Claus thinks about it. “Last year, around this time, I think.”
Only a year ago? So that was just before I came along. Why did no one ever tell me anything about this Isolde?
“Cool that you’re here with your friends, though.” Claus sounds jealous. “It’s better than sitting by yourself in a room all weekend.”
I just nod. Something about this story isn’t right. All kinds of alarm bells are going off in my stomach.
Claus raises his hand. “Sorry, got to get going. Thanks for the help, Linnea. If my candy ever gets stuck again, I’ll come find you.”
* * *
“Ah, there you are.” Lucas pushes my stool back. “You were gone for ages.”
“I got to talking with someone.” It’s only now that I realize I completely forgot to go to the bathroom. “Where are Fender and Kate?”
“No idea.” Lucas sighs. “Great birthday, huh?”
“Was it more fun last year?” I blurt out.
Lucas looks up in surprise. His cheeks are red.
“Last year?” he echoes.
“When Isolde was still around?”
There is a brief silence.
“Isolde? I don’t know anyone called Isolde.” Lucas takes a swig of his drink and points behind me. “Hey, there they are. Finally.”
The blush on his cheeks has disappeared, as if someone erased it.
Kate and Lucas start talking about dinner, which is supposed to be fabulous at the Riverside. Kate looks flushed, as if she’s been arguing, but no one mentions it.
Fender hauls himself up onto the barstool, like it’s a mountain he has to climb. As always, he doesn’t deem me worthy of a glance.
You are such an incredible jerk.
Why did that Isolde ever like him? I can’t imagine anyone wanting Fender as a boyfriend.
Maybe that Claus guy was lying, but why would he do that? And Lucas reacted really strangely too. I’ve never seen him blush before. Seems like the subject of Isolde is off-limits.
Then Fender stands up and leaves the bar.
“Where’s he off to?”
“Probably off for a smoke.” Lucas shakes his head. “It took him months to quit. Loser.”
Without thinking about it, I jump down from my stool too.
“Where are you going?” Lucas calls after me, but I don’t reply. For the first time ever, I actually want to be alone with Fender. Lucas can deny knowing Isolde, but something tells me I’ll have more success with Fender.
The housekeeper’s master key was just lying on her cart.
People are so careless.
Now I can go wherever I like.
I had to get out of the bar with that irritating jazz music. The singer’s warbling was really setting me on edge.
Outside I bum a cigarette and a light off a guy walking past. As I take the first drag, I feel the tension flow out of my body.
The fog inside my mind lifts a little.
The last thing I should do is panic. I have to keep a clear head.
There’s someone in the hotel who knows us, someone who knows which rooms we’re staying in. He knew we’d be here this weekend, but how? Lucas has been shouting about it at every opportunity, of course—is that how Room Service found out? And he’s probably been watching us since we got here. I bet he saw us go into our rooms.
How long has he been watching us?
Was he watching when I opened the letter at the harbor yesterday?
I take another drag. She never wanted to kiss me when I’d been smoking, said I tasted like an ashtray.
I shove the thought of her back into the imaginary file cabinet inside my head.
Kate and Lucas can’t find out about it, but what if Room Service comes back when they’re around? Plus the death notice is in today’s newspaper! What if someone in our class sees it? Or a teacher?
No one has ever mentioned it at school. After the summer break, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement not to say her name. I knew people were gossiping, but the conversations always fell silent when we entered the room.
No one wanted to confront us.
What had happened was bad enough.
I take another drag and start coughing.
“Nasty habit, huh?”
I look up and, to my amazement, see Linnea standing there.
“Nope.”
“It’s too bad.” Linnea slides her sneaker over the pavement. “Lucas just told me how hard you found it to quit.”
“I can quit again,” I say, acting tough, but I know she’s right. Last time, nothing helped. Not nicotine patches and not chewing gum. When I finally quit, it was for her. But I don’t have that motivation anymore.
“Quitting for the second time is even harder.”
“What do you know about it?”
“I used to smoke too.”
What? Linnea smoking? I can’t picture it.
“Seriously,” says Linnea. “A pack a day.”
I flick the butt onto the street and then watch as the glowing tip of the cigarette slowly fades.
“So what did you actually come out here for?”
Yesterday in the park she seemed delighted when we finally got to go our separate ways.
“Just for a talk.” Linnea stares ahead. She seems nervous, keeps rocking forward onto her toes.
That’s the Linnea I know. Her blue eyes always look like she’s being hunted. Her fidgeting is getting on my nerves. Linnea is even more irritating than jazz.
She wants to talk, so why doesn’t she say something?
“Hey, great chat. Now I’m going back inside.” I walk past Linnea and toward the entrance.
I have to come up with a plan to unmask Room Service. If I figure out what he wants, I can make this stop.
But then I suddenly hear Linnea’s voice behind me.
“Who’s Isolde?”
For a moment, there’s silence, as if someone has paused the movie we’re acting in. And then the picture suddenly speeds up to make up for the lost time.
Fender pivots and puts his hand around my throat. Shoving me against the wall, he brings his face right up to mine.
“What did you say?”
“I…” I can hardly speak. Fender’s eyes are suddenly black, as if someone turned off the light.
Let go. You’re scaring me.
“Answer me!”
I can’t breathe, you idiot. Let go of me!
I’m gasping for breath and start coughing. Fender lets go and takes a step back, as if I’m infected with something.
“Hey, you!” The doorman comes running toward us and grabs hold of Fender. “What’s going on here?”
I touch the painful place on my throat. It’s like Fender’s fingers still have hold of me.
What just happened? Why did he flip out like that?
“Think you’re a tough guy, young man?”
“I’m sorry,” Fen
der quickly says. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
You did know. You just completely snapped.
“That’s pretty obvious!” The doorman looks at me. “Are you okay?”
No, of course I’m not.
“Yes, I’m fine. We…We’re friends.”
It hurts to talk. A bit like when I had my tonsils taken out and for days I had to write anything I wanted to say on a sheet of paper.
“Nice friend!” the doorman says, looking disapprovingly at Fender. “Do you want me to fetch someone?”
It was my question that did it. As soon as he heard Isolde’s name, he flipped. I have to find out why.
“No, thanks,” I say quietly. “There’s no need.”
* * *
Fender has fled back inside without saying anything else. The doorman is back in position by the entrance. I can still feel Fender’s fingers around my throat.
He’s lost his mind. The look in his eyes was so very dark….
I glance over at the bikes. I want to go home. There’s no way I can go back to the bar and pretend nothing happened.
Kate’s sure to notice something’s wrong. And what am I supposed to say?
Your best friend just tried to strangle me?
I run my eyes along the bike rack. My racing bike shines back at me.
The idea is so appealing. Away from Fender and his pitch-black eyes. I’ll lie to Kate and Lucas, tell them I got sick. Stomach flu.
Then my gaze moves on—and I see it.
The bike with the big headlight, like a car’s.
He’s here.
I was right.
I haven’t gone crazy. The bike is parked in front of the Riverside!
I walk over to it and examine the frame, as if there might be a name on it somewhere. When I touch the headlight, it’s like an electric shock.
My stalker is here. He was at the stoplight and by the pool just now. He was watching me sitting there in my bikini.
I suddenly feel dirty, like he’s been pawing me.
I turn and go back inside the hotel. I’m going to fetch my things and get away. I won’t stay here for a minute longer than I have to.
From the lobby, I take the stairs two steps at a time. I need my bike key and my bag, and then I’m out of here.
On the last step, someone passes me and I feel a hand around my wrist.
Fender…
“Get your hands off me!” I lash out with my free hand.
“Hey, hey, calm down.”
There’s a laugh and it’s only then that I realize it’s not Fender at all. Claus lets go of my wrist.
“It’s just me.”
I wipe my eyes, but they fill with tears again.
“What’s wrong?” Claus says, looking at me with shock.
“Does that bike outside belong to you?”
Claus frowns. “Which bike?”
“No jokes. The brown one with the big headlight. Is it yours?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Answer me!”
Claus shakes his head. “No.”
“I’m going home.” I start walking, but Claus stops me again. I feel something bubbling up deep inside me—and it comes out as a scream.
“Let go of me!”
“Sorry.” Claus holds up his hands. “I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry. But what on earth is going on?”
“Nothing.” But as I say it, the dam in my eyes bursts and the tears come pouring out.
Claus gently reaches out and brushes a tear from my cheek. “I can’t handle it when girls cry.”
I feel so ashamed, but I just can’t stop crying.
“Hey, why don’t you come…” Claus pauses. “No, never mind.”
“What?” I hiccup.
Claus shakes his head. “I was going to ask if you’d like to come back to my room, but that’s clearly a dumb idea.”
“No.” My mom would murder me if I accepted his invitation. Going to a hotel room with a complete stranger is about the dumbest thing you could do.
“Maybe you could talk to your friends about whatever it is,” suggests Claus.
“My friends are the problem.”
I think about Kate and Lucas, who are waiting for me in the bar. What will happen if I tell them the truth?
Kate and Fender grew up together, and Fender is Lucas’s best friend.
Lucas might have been pretty sympathetic before, but I think this is a step too far. And it certainly will be when Fender twists everything so it’s like I’m trying to make him look bad. Like he did when I mentioned his tic.
Linnea sees things that aren’t there.
Fender has a big head start when it comes to his friends—and he knows it.
“Or I could listen to you,” Claus suggests. “It would be too bad if the world’s best candy-machine whisperer went home.”
I hurry up the last few steps.
“Okay, I’ll just go back to my mom and dad, then.” Claus points at two adults who are talking farther down the hallway. The woman glances in our direction and smiles. He looks like her.
“See you, Linnea.”
I watch as Claus walks toward them. He’s not involved in any of this. He’s the only one I could dare to confide in about Fender, without unleashing a war between my friends.
“Claus,” I call after him. “Wait a minute.”
Inside my head, I count the seconds.
Is this going to work?
I’ve almost reached the couple.
What should I do?
There’s no way they’re going to play along and pretend to be my parents.
I’m bluffing and it’s way too much of a risk.
But then I hear Linnea’s voice.
“Claus, wait a minute.”
It was because of that question.
It was because of her name.
I haven’t heard it for months, only in my own thoughts.
* * *
I slam the door of the hotel room behind me. How could I have been so stupid as to let Linnea catch a glimpse of the real Fender? The Fender who waits for the impossible to happen at the harbor every Friday. The Fender I became last year on Kate’s birthday.
What is Linnea going to think now? I just left her standing there on the sidewalk!
What if she tells Kate and Lucas what happened outside? I wouldn’t dare face them….
How does Linnea know that name? Has Kate been talking about her? I wouldn’t think so. Kate hardly ever talks about her to me, let alone anyone else.
Or Lucas? He’s got a big mouth. Maybe he let something slip.
There’s a knock at the door.
“Room service,” comes a voice from the hallway.
I freeze. It’s him.
I start moving way too late, and when I look through the peephole, I don’t see anyone. He’s made a quick getaway, just like the first time.
I pull the door open and see another cloche at my feet. Of course I knew there’d be another message, but somehow I still hoped the death notice would be the last one.
With a bad feeling, I lift the silver dome. There’s a gold envelope underneath, just like the first two.
This time it doesn’t have only my name on it, but also Kate’s and Lucas’s.
I take it all back into the room and slump onto the bed.
Inside the envelope is a letter, clumsily folded in half.
When I read the first sentence, the same thing happens as yesterday: everything around me stands still.
It’s a copy of her letter.
I never expected to write this, but I can’t go on any longer.
This is my suicide note.
You might read this and think you can still stop me, but you’re too l
ate.
I’ll make sure I’m gone by the time you read this.
What does it matter now, anyway?
I actually died last year on Kate’s birthday.
I know that and so do they.
Kate, Fender, and Lucas.
My so-called best friends.
The night is almost over, but I can no longer tell the difference between night and day.
It’s always dark for me.
Isolde
Once again, I read the words that hurt me more and more every time. I relive every word. I breathe in every sentence.
Why is Room Service sending me this letter again? Does he want to let me know that there are copies?
But then I see the brief message on the reverse side, in that overly neat handwriting.
Show this letter to Kate and Lucas—or I will. I’ll give you an hour.
This message is specially for me. He knows I’m alone. He’s watching us.
I take another look at the neat handwriting, even though I know there’s no point. I don’t know anyone who writes like that.
Who would do this? He’s giving me an hour to tell them everything, but where should I begin?
There is one loud knock at the door, and I immediately sit up.
Room Service. This time I’m going to catch him if it’s the last thing I do. I leap off the bed and sprint to the door, banging my shin against the coffee table, but that doesn’t stop me. I swing the door open—and I find myself looking into Lucas’s surprised face.
“You okay?”
“Was that you?” I look past him and down the long hallway. “Did you just knock?”
“Yes, you’ve got the key.”
I look down the hallway again. “Did you see anyone on your way to the room?”
Lucas frowns. “What’s going on?”
“Just tell me!”
“No…No, I didn’t see anyone. Dude, what is it? You look kind of freaked out.”
I rub my throbbing shin. How much time do I have left? At least five minutes have already gone by.
Room Service Page 4