Room Service

by Maren Stoffels

  They’ll ask questions I can’t answer.

  I’m so scared about how all of this is going to end.

  She sometimes used to write in her diary when I was there. I’d lie in bed and she’d sit in the window seat.

  It was one of those kids’ diaries, with a little padlock on it, which are so easy to open. But…why would I have done that? We didn’t have any big secrets from each other. She used to tell me the things that mattered.

  Or so I thought.

  “What is this?” Lucas is looking over my shoulder.

  I stare at the letters, which are dancing on the paper. They swirl around, doing pirouettes.

  “Th—this is impossible…,” I stammer.

  “Did she really write this?” Kate comes and stands with me too.

  I nod, but it feels like my head is falling. I point at the mouse.

  “I recognize that.”

  “What was Isolde talking about?” Kate looks at me. “Why was she dreading my birthday?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Did she have some kind of premonition? Did she know that day would end so badly?

  Why did she never confide in me? It’s like I’m reading about a completely different life, the life of another girl entirely.

  “It’s fake.” Kate snatches the paper from my hand. “Room Service has faked her diary.”

  I stare at the letters, handwriting that very few people could read. Her writing was like her bedroom: chaotic. Whenever her mom and dad let her work with them in the hair salon, she left scissors and clips all over the place.

  “How did that madman get hold of her diary?” Linnea’s question hangs in the air.

  No one knows, but I can see that everyone’s searching for the answer.

  “Maybe she gave it to him.” Kate glances my way. I know what she’s thinking, because it’s a thought that already shot through my head too. It has to be someone she knew, someone she trusted.

  A new boyfriend.

  So it’s true?

  “There’s more,” says Kate. “Want me to read it out loud?”

  “No.” Lucas shakes his head furiously. “I’ve heard enough. Please, just leave the rest. He has her diary. Fine. But how does that help us?”

  He’s kind of right. What’s the point of reading more?

  But this is her diary, her feelings.

  The truth, no matter how much it’s going to hurt.

  These are the things she never dared say to me.

  The only thing I can do is read on.

  This afternoon he was here.

  Of course he was.

  He watched me from a distance.

  He thought I couldn’t see.

  But I always see him.

  I want to tell Fender everything.

  But then I’ll have to be one hundred percent honest with him.

  I don’t know if I dare.

  Kate reads out the last sentence, because my voice is trembling too much. I put down the paper and clench my jaw.

  “Fender…?”

  I don’t want to look up. I don’t want to see Kate’s pity. Something is bubbling up inside me and it wants to come out.

  What was she up to?

  Who is this about?

  A he.

  A boy.

  Someone else.

  No, it’s impossible.

  I think about all our moments together at the harbor, under our little boat.

  We sometimes sat there together for hours, talking and kissing. If something had been wrong, I’d have noticed, wouldn’t I?

  “I’m not going to listen to this anymore.” Lucas crosses his arms. “Someone’s trying to drive you crazy, Fender. You need to realize that!”

  But I still read on.

  Tonight he was across the street.

  He must have been waiting for Fender to leave.

  I went outside. Think I gave him a fright.

  “This has to stop,” I say.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “Hey, you know what I want.”

  He tried to kiss me, but this time I turned my face away.

  I crush the paper. The picture of the mouse crumples in my hand.

  “Fender…,” Kate pleads. “Just stop.”

  But there’s one bit left.

  I have to be honest with Fender.

  But how do I do that?

  Maybe I should just start by writing his name here:

  Claus.

  “Who’s Claus?” asks Kate quietly.

  The name buzzes through every cell in my body.

  The boy who called me a candy-machine whisperer. The boy who listened to me and gave me advice about Fender. Less than an hour ago, I was in his room.

  He is Room Service.

  “He’s about our age, with black hair and glasses.”

  All eyes are on me now.

  “What?” Kate stammers. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I know someone called Claus.” I feel myself becoming dizzy again, like I could faint at any minute. “And he’s here. At the Riverside.”

  * * *

  “You have to tell us everything.” Kate sits me down on one of the easy chairs and crouches down in front of me. Fender is in the other chair. Lucas is standing by the window.

  “So how do you know him?”

  “I only met him this afternoon. He’s staying here. You guys know him too.”

  “What?” Kate frowns. “I don’t know anyone called Claus.”

  “Yes, you do. You guys met him once at a drinks party at Kate’s dad’s firm. That’s where he knew Isolde from too.”

  Kate shakes her head. “Wait a moment. I don’t get it. How did this Claus end up at my dad’s drinks party?”

  “His parents work for him.”

  Kate looks at me. “There aren’t any couples working for Dad. It’s all young men and women, without children. My dad’s the only one with a family.”

  So Claus was lying.

  Then who was that couple in the hallway?

  I thought Claus looked like the woman, but how well could I see her from that distance? Of course I believed they were his parents. Why would he lie about something like that?

  “Who is Claus?” Kate asks Fender again.

  “Someone she used to know. She said he didn’t matter.”

  Fender’s face is white as a sheet. It’s bad enough that Claus lied to me, but Fender is just finding out that his girlfriend was leading a double life. So clearly that Claus guy did matter. The way Isolde writes about him is pretty intense.

  Absentmindedly, Kate slips the gold envelope through her hands. She doesn’t say anything. No one says anything. But then suddenly she looks up in surprise.

  “Guys, there’s something else in here.”

  Kate takes a last sheet of paper out of the envelope. It’s a lot smaller, with just a few sentences on it. As her eyes run over the words, all the color leaves her face.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  Kate looks at me. “It’s the rules of the game,” she says.

  RULES OF THE GAME

  IF YOU WANT ANSWERS

  Stay in the hotel.

  Don’t call in any help.

  When Room Service knocks, wait for a minute before opening the door.

  Act as normal as possible.

  Don’t go looking for me.

  Claus.

  She once mentioned him in passing.

  They went on a few dates, but he liked her more than she liked him.

  They lost touch.

  I thought.

  She said he didn’t matter.

&
nbsp; So how did he get her diary?

  “Rules of the game?” Lucas spits out the words. “Has he gone totally insane? You’re not going to listen to this, are you?”

  “Calm down,” says Kate.

  “Calm down?” Lucas shrieks. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because…” Kate pauses. “For Fender.”

  I look up. Everyone is staring at me. Even Linnea.

  Stupid Fender, who was being cheated on and didn’t realize.

  Stupid Fender, who thought he was the only guy for her.

  Stupid Fender, who thought the worst thing that could happen to him was reading her letter.

  “I…I’m just going to my room for a while.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Lucas is already heading off into the hallway, but I shake my head.

  “I want to be alone for a bit.”

  Lucas exchanges a quick look with Kate.

  “Honestly,” I add. “I’ll see you later.”

  Without waiting for an answer, I escape into the hallway.

  Our room is still intact, but it feels as wrecked as the girls’ room. I can’t see the luxury anymore. It’s like a thick layer of dust is lying over it.

  I place the diary page in front of me on the bed and stare at the words.

  This time I turned my face away.

  That sentence keeps repeating itself inside my head.

  What did she mean by this time?

  They saw each other the night before Kate’s party, exactly a year ago now.

  What happened then?

  Why is Claus sending us these messages?

  Maybe Lucas is right and Claus is trying to drive me crazy.

  Because I had something he would never have: her.

  I frantically think back to the night before Kate’s birthday. I was so enthusiastic about her plans for the weekend. We were going to camp in the woods just outside town. Kate had arranged for two double tents and a big supply of food and drink.

  I couldn’t wait to be lying inside the same tent as her, close together.

  Should I have noticed then that something was wrong?

  Was I so blinded by my feelings for her that I didn’t realize she was worried about something?

  Could I have seen Claus when I cycled away? He was probably already standing in the bushes, waiting for me to leave.

  I drive my nails into my palms. I want to find that boy and thump him in the face. I want to hurt Claus as much with my fists as he’s hurt me with his messages.

  I want…

  Yes, what do I want?

  I want my memories of her to remain as they were.

  There are times when hearing nothing is better than hearing something.

  I get up off the bed and walk to the window. A golden glow is shining over the houses.

  Normally I’d think this view was amazing. Even romantic. Now all I want to do is open the windows and jump out. Disappear into the dark river and never surface.

  Is that how she felt this week?

  Is that why she did it?

  I open the window and the fresh evening breeze hits my face.

  Why didn’t she say something to me?

  How many times did they kiss without me knowing?

  Tongues wrapped around each other.

  His hands in her hair.

  The hair I’d run my hands through too.

  Why didn’t I notice anything?

  Down below, a tour boat goes past, with cheerful music playing.

  I look down. It seems much higher than four stories.

  Suddenly I picture her earlier this week, standing on a tall building. Maybe she jumped. Is that how she killed herself?

  Am I brave enough to do the same?

  I put one foot on the windowsill and pull myself up. Crouching there, I look down and judge the distance.

  What was she thinking about before she did it? About me or about him?

  “Don’t do it,” a voice says behind me. “Please.”

  “Don’t do it. Please.”

  Fender is crouched on the windowsill. When he turns around, he looks at me with haunted eyes.

  For a moment, he doesn’t seem to recognize me, but then he says: “I thought I told you I wanted to be alone.”

  “So you could commit suicide too?”

  My breath is racing. I could tell something was going on. A little voice inside me told me I had to go to Fender. I was halfway down the stairs to meet Kate and Lucas in the bar when I turned around. They’re waiting in the bar now, with no idea what’s going on.

  “I’m not committing suicide.” But Fender stays there in the window.

  “You’re going to fall.”

  “What do you care?”

  I ignore his comment.

  “I don’t know what exactly was going on between Isolde and Claus, but I think it was mainly him chasing after her.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “Because I know what it’s like to be stalked.”

  Fender’s eyes narrow. I have to be honest with him, even though he might not believe me.

  Linnea sees things that aren’t there.

  “When you found me in the park last night, I didn’t just fall off my bike. Someone was following me, and I was trying to get away.” I take a deep breath. “At the pool, I had the feeling I was being watched again, and I saw a shadow darting away. I thought I was losing my mind, but his bike is parked in front of the hotel. I think it’s Claus. That means he was spying on Isolde first—and now me.”

  All kinds of noises are coming in from the street, but inside this room time is standing still.

  Claus and my stalker are the same person. When Fender read out the pages from Isolde’s diary, I understood. What Isolde described felt so very familiar.

  “So that’s why you were so afraid in the park?” Fender asks. “And it wasn’t because of…”

  “Because of you?” I shake my head. “No. Not that time.”

  Fender’s eyes go to my throat. “Oh.”

  He looks back outside. I have to keep him talking, because then at least he won’t jump.

  “We need to stop this Claus guy. He’s done enough damage already.”

  “Where do you want to start looking? This hotel is huge!”

  “Room 311,” I say.

  Fender snorts. “Or Room 248. Or Room 194. Or all the rooms between, or above, or below.”

  I shake my head. “No. I’m certain. I’ve been inside his room.”

  Fender looks up in astonishment. And then everything happens at once.

  Fender starts to wobble, and his foot slips.

  I leap forward and grab him by his denim jacket. When I give it a firm tug, there’s a ripping sound.

  For a moment, I think Fender’s going to tumble out of the window anyway, but then we fall back into the room together. I bang my arm on the coffee table, and Fender lands on my legs.

  Heart pounding, breath wheezing, I lie there on the floor. Fender is panting like he just ran a marathon.

  What would have happened if I hadn’t grabbed him in time?

  The minutes pass, but neither of us stands up. We both stare at the ceiling.

  Finally Fender breaks the silence. “Why did you follow me?”

  “I could feel something was up.”

  “You could feel it?”

  “Yes, what’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing,” says Fender quickly. “Nothing.”

  My heartbeat slowly returns to normal.

  “Thank you,” Fender says.

  “What for?”

  “For not saying anything to Kate and Lucas about what happened outside.”

  “I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

>   Fender stands up and closes the window. He doesn’t thank me for saving his life.

  “You coming?”

  “Where to?”

  Fender opens the door. “To talk to Claus.”

  My heart rate shoots straight back up again. “But we can’t. The rules of the game…”

  “I don’t care.” Fender’s eyes are shooting fire. “Are you coming or not?”

  If I let Fender go alone, he’ll be risking his life. What if he attacks Claus, like he attacked me? Claus could be armed….

  “Then I’ll go on my own.” Without saying anything else, Fender moves out into the hallway.

  I sit on the floor for a few more seconds, but then scramble to my feet.

  “Fender!” I shout. “Wait!”

  I catch up with Fender. He’s striding along the hallway, his face tense. His fury is almost palpable, like a third person between us.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  “Just talk to him.”

  I need to stop him, yet I know I won’t be able to. Of course not. Claus has destroyed him.

  “Here it is.” Fender stops in front of Room 311. I look at the gold numbers on the door.

  I try to imagine how Claus is going to react when he opens the door.

  Will I get to see a completely different Claus?

  The one I got to know was anything but scary.

  But he was the one who put me on Isolde’s trail. Did he actually want me to mention her to Fender?

  Was I the spark that was supposed to make everything explode?

  Was I Claus’s pawn?

  I’m startled by three loud bangs, as Fender slams his fist into the door. He looks as if he’d like to punch his way straight through it.

  When there’s no reaction from inside, Fender bangs three more times.

  Again there’s no answer.

  “He’s not there,” I say quietly. “Come on. Let’s go back to the others.”

  But then the door swings open.

  All my anger flows into this one moment. Claus doesn’t even get a chance to say anything because I grab his jacket and pull him out into the hallway.

  He falls onto his knees and starts shouting, but his words don’t get through to me. Even what Linnea says completely passes me by.