Vanished

by E. E. Cooper

  The messages weren’t from Beth.

  He opened his mouth to say something else, but I turned around and left.

  I paced back and forth alongside the bed. My brain was like a hamster wheel, spinning around and around. I felt jittery, like I’d drunk an entire gallon of coffee. The messages had to be from Beth.

  Britney was dead. They’d found her body. Britney was dead.

  Unless Brit wasn’t dead.

  But the body wore her ring.

  But the messages weren’t from Beth. And whoever had written them knew Beth very well, and was very interested in the life Brit left behind.

  Almost nobody knew Beth that well. And no one was as interested in Brit as Brit was.

  I felt the room tilt and I sat down quickly. I was breathing heavily, almost panting.

  If the body wasn’t Britney’s, then it had to be Beth’s.

  I was starting to panic. I could feel myself clinging to normalcy by my fingernails. If I let go I’d go spinning out of control like a character in a science fiction movie sucked into space from an airlock. I closed my eyes and made myself take a long breath in, counting to six before releasing it. This was beyond my tendency to imagine worst-case scenarios—this was insane.

  I could totally picture Britney faking her death. It had all the soap opera drama she would love. It would give her a chance to punish Jason, make her the focus of attention, and teach all of us a lesson in how we should appreciate her so much more than we already did. But I couldn’t imagine Brit killing Beth.

  My phone beeped.

  Time for a chat? —B

  I sat down at my computer and opened the chat screen. My fingers shook as I typed in my password.

  One problem with faking your own death is you can’t stick around to see how crushed everyone is to lose you.

  God, have you been watching the news? I’m sick of people talking about me, B wrote.

  People are worried about you, I typed. I’m worried about you. This was an understatement. The last news story I saw had a picture of Beth and the caption Where is she? running across the screen.

  I’m fine, B insisted. But it’s gotten to the point where I’m afraid to go out because someone might spot me and call in the media. I don’t need this hassle. I’m trying to start over.

  A flare of anger burned in my chest. If you would tell someone where you are, everyone would stop talking about it.

  It’s not that easy.

  You know what’s not easy? Being left behind to deal with all this. Missing your two best friends. Or being DEAD. My fingers jabbed down on the keyboard.

  The cursor blinked. B didn’t type back. I rubbed my temples.

  You’re right. The focus should be on Brit. She was lucky to have you as a friend. I’m being selfish. And I miss you too. I wish we could be back in your room hanging out with that huge plate of your dad’s famous cookies.

  I stared at the computer. Maybe it really was Beth. I hoped so. God, did I hope so.

  I missed her. I missed her every day with every atom of my soul.

  It came to me in a flash, the perfect thing to say. I miss you as much you missed Max, I typed. If it was Beth on the other end, she’d remember the way she’d kissed Roogs’s nose and told me about her beloved giraffe. She’d remember the way she’d kissed me. She’d know how I felt about her.

  Max? God, I can’t even remember half the guys I’ve hooked up with. I hope you miss me more than that!

  I sat back and sucked in a breath. This was not Beth. There was no hiding from it.

  I know it’s been hard. You’re the only one who has been really faithful to Brit and me. I won’t forget that. Gotta run. She clicked off before I could respond.

  I reread all the messages, over and over. It wasn’t my imagination. This definitely wasn’t Beth. It had to be Brit. There was no doubt.

  Which meant Beth was dead and Britney had killed her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  You know things are not normal when your parents actually want you to go to a party on a school night. They were practically giddy that I asked to go out. They didn’t even seem to care where I went, though I doubt they would have been as excited if they’d known that the host’s parents wouldn’t be home. Apparently Tyler’s parents had Cinco de Mayo plans of their own.

  Tyler Channing’s annual Cinco de Mayo bash was a huge Northside tradition. His older sister had started hosting the parties eight years before, and when she’d graduated, Tyler’s older brother had taken the helm, then passed it to Tyler after him. Now it was Tyler’s senior year and the end of an era. Judging from the lights, the piñatas, and the live mariachi band, Tyler had gone all out.

  While there was a distinct lack of adult supervision, it seemed like everyone under eighteen was there. Less than a month ago, Brit, Beth, and I would have been at the center of the party. Now I didn’t even want to be there at all.

  I would have stayed home except I’d promised “Beth” this morning to give a blow-by-blow account of the night, with pictures to illustrate. Beth wouldn’t have cared about a party like this, but apparently Brit did.

  Maybe she’d somehow suspected that Jason and Sara would use this night to make their public debut as a couple. If Brit was hoping that people would boo Jason and Sara or pelt them with garbage, she was going to be disappointed. There had been some whispers and side glances when they came in together, just as there had been at lunch, when she’d sat at his table and he’d draped his arm casually across the back of her chair, but now it was like they’d always been together.

  Tyler and his boyfriend, Tomas, were having a dance-off in the center of the living room with Jason and Sara. Jason was as smooth as silk on the basketball court, but he danced like someone was applying an electrical current to his feet. Brit would have been embarrassed by his spastic moves, but Sara was laughing so hard she could hardly stand. I wanted to be mad at them for having such a good time, but it was pointless. There wasn’t a person at the party who couldn’t tell they were in love.

  Tyler pulled Tomas close and kissed him before boogying over to refill the chips and guac. Jason twirled Sara away, then spun her into his arms, and I felt a pang. If Beth were still alive, this party might have been our debut. I could be kissing her, tasting beer or margaritas on her mouth. I didn’t like to dance in public, but Beth would have gotten me to do it. Beth was fearless. Of course it never occurred to her she should have feared Brit.

  I pushed down another wave of nausea and panic. Until I knew what I was going to do, I had to keep my crazy theory to myself. Brit’s messages were solid proof to me, but they were things only Beth and I would know. If I started spouting off about it without better evidence, people would lock me up.

  A cheer went up and drew my attention. A giant box with a bright silver bow had been delivered. TO SARA was written on the side in block letters. Tyler passed it to her with a flourish.

  Sara looked at Jason, her face flushed, but he raised up his hands to claim innocence. “I’d take credit, but I don’t have anything to do with it. Tyler said a messenger just brought it to the door.”

  Sara plopped down on a chair and peeled off the tape slowly. You could tell she was the kind of person who never tore into her Christmas presents with wild abandon. She was a paper saver.

  A bunch of people from the party had clustered around to see what the gift was.

  “I was going to wrap myself up for you, but I ran out of time,” one of the guys from the basketball team yelled out, and I could see her blushing. Jason gave the guy a light punch on his shoulder and everyone laughed.

  Sara opened the box and pushed aside layers and layers of pink tissue paper. There was something about the whole situation that felt wrong. I realized I was gripping the beer bottle in my hand and I had to fight the urge to tell her to get away from the box.

  She pulled out two stuffed animals, bears with their arms wrapped around each other in an embrace. There was a red satin heart pinned to their chests wit
h “True Love” embroidered on it in curly script. An “aw” went up from the girls at the party. Sara squeezed the bears close while Tyler took a picture.

  “What is that?” Tomas pointed at Sara’s shirt.

  Sara squealed in alarm and began whacking at her chest. There were cockroaches on her. Three or four. Then more. They crawled up her arm, across her neck, even on her face. The people around her screamed and jumped back. Sara had frozen in fear.

  “They’re in the bears,” Jason yelled.

  I looked down and saw the seams along the bears’ backs were split open and roaches were streaming out.

  Jason and Tyler began stomping on the bugs. I could hear the sharp crunch of the shells splitting under their feet. There was a smear of bug guts in the carpet and on the bears, a milky white fluid. Revulsion ran through me.

  Sara was crying and shaking. As soon as Jason had killed the bugs and made sure they were all off her, he wrapped her in a hug. Tyler grabbed the box and dumped the bears inside, hustling it out of the room.

  A cold certainty sunk into my chest. Britney had sent the box. I could picture her buying the bears, pulling out their stuffing, and replacing it with the live bugs. I didn’t even want to know where she’d gotten those. She would have been smiling, imagining Sara opening it.

  Jesus, she was sick. I swallowed hard. This was more than being mad, this was psychotic.

  A rush of bile filled my throat and for a second I was sure I’d vomit. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to get rid of the image my brain formed of Britney’s mouth curled into a snarl as she accused Beth of betraying her. Lashing out. Hitting Beth.

  Hurting her.

  Killing her.

  I fished another beer out of the bucket of melting ice and went outside. I needed to stop thinking about this. I needed air.

  I found Zach and the rest of the Fleshtones doing cannonballs into Trevor’s near-frozen pool. Early May doesn’t exactly count as swimming season in Michigan, but it didn’t seem to bother them at all.

  “Bombs away!” Zach bounced off the diving board and somersaulted into the deep end, sending up a spray of water.

  When Zach surfaced, he spotted me and climbed out of the pool. He took two steps and jumped onto the patio chair with me.

  I shoved him gently in the chest. “You’re soaking wet. It’s freezing.”

  “I’m counting on you to warm me up.” Zach reached over and grabbed a giant towel from the ground and pulled it over the top of us, making a terry-cloth tent. “Now I have you all to myself.” He kissed me. His lips were cold but soft. I shivered and Zach wrapped his arms around my middle. But every time I closed my eyes I pictured the black-shelled bugs scurrying out of the bear.

  “You realize that everyone can still see us, right?” I wanted to push him off of me, but I didn’t know how to explain what was going on.

  “I don’t care who sees us.” Zach ripped off the towel. “I love this woman!” He yelled into the night sky. An inflatable pool ball smacked him in the head.

  “Dude. I have neighbors. Keep it down,” Tyler yelled at him.

  “I love this woman,” Zach said in a loud stage whisper.

  I covered his mouth with my hand. “Shhh.” I wanted to burrow back under the towel and hide. I felt sick. I couldn’t do this with Zach now. There were too many horrible truths in my head.

  “I do love you, you know, more than anyone in the world.” His eyes pinned me in place and his face was serious as he touched my cheek with one hand.

  I felt a flash of panic. We’d never said “I love you” before. Why did he have to pick this moment to try it? “You’ve had too much beer,” I said, trying to deflect him.

  “I haven’t had any beer,” he countered. “I know I’m acting like a spaz, but it’s not booze. I love you.”

  I kissed him. “I like everything about you,” I said. “I adore you.”

  Zach pulled back and stared at me. “Wait a minute. You like me?”

  I flinched. “That’s not what I meant. You know how I feel.”

  “All this time we’ve been going out and you like me.” He turned away from me. “Wow.”

  I shivered in the night air. “Zach, don’t make this something it’s not.”

  He got up from the patio chair. He was hunched over, like someone had punched him in the gut.

  I scrambled after him. “Look, this just isn’t a good time. Everything that’s happened with Brit and Beth has me really messed up. My life is upside down. I can’t give any more right now.”

  “I am trying to understand, I really am, but is there ever room for me? For us?” Zach’s voice sounded pleading.

  “Of course,” I said. “It’s just . . .” My words trailed off.

  “Just not now,” he said.

  I reached for him and he stepped back. I sucked in a breath, as hurt as if he’d pushed me away. I did need him. “Zach—”

  “You know, this party sucks. I think I’m going to head home.” He swallowed hard and wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  He walked away quickly, his gait jerky and uneven. I watched him go.

  My anxieties ratcheted up several notches. Zach was my emotional security blanket. I knew I couldn’t survive this without him. Without him close, the air felt razor sharp around me.

  “Hey.”

  I turned. Jason and Sara were standing behind me. I wondered how much they’d overheard. Sara’s eyes were still red. She’d been crying hard. I would have too.

  “Great party,” I said. They didn’t laugh.

  “We wanted to talk to you,” Jason said.

  “Can I catch up with you guys tomorrow? I think I’m going to go.” My throat felt like I’d swallowed broken glass. “I had a few drinks and I don’t feel too good,” I explained.

  Jason fished through his jean pockets. “Look, I haven’t been drinking. Sara and I will drive you.” Sara nodded.

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said. But I realized I had no idea how else I’d get home. Zach had driven me here. My parents would pick me up, but I could only imagine their reaction when they smelled beer on my breath.

  “It’s no problem. Then we can talk on the way. It’ll be easier without everyone else around anyway.” Jason led the way through the crowd with Sara and me trailing behind him.

  I practically fell into the backseat of Jason’s car. It was as if someone had found my off switch and flicked it.

  I leaned my head against the window. If I squinted my eyes, it made all the lights blur as we sped past, almost like I was underwater. That was appropriate, since it felt like I was drowning.

  Sarah turned on the radio to some classical music station. I didn’t know if she liked that kind of music or if she thought I needed to hear something soothing.

  There was a bump as we pulled into the driveway. I blinked, shocked to find that we were already parked in front of my house. I must have drifted off. I rubbed my eyes. “Thanks for the ride.”

  Jason twisted in his seat so he could see me. “Kalah. I have to ask you something.” He looked at me steadily. “Did you send the bears to Sara?”

  I was suddenly wide-awake. “What? No.”

  “I know you’re upset about what I did to Britney, but that was me, not Sara.”

  “I didn’t send them,” I insisted. Sara wouldn’t even look at me; she just stared straight ahead, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I get sticking up for friends, but that was messed up,” Jason said.

  “It’s disgusting,” Sara spit out.

  I wanted to cry. “I’m telling you, it wasn’t me. I’d never do something like that.” I thought of telling them that it was Brit, but they would think I was mocking them. Or crazy. Or both.

  Jason sighed. “Okay, sure,” he said. I could tell from their faces they weren’t buying it. “I just wanted to tell you that if it was you that sent it, we got the message. You’re not happy about us. That’s fine. We don’t need you to approve of our relationsh
ip.”

  “I swear it wasn’t me,” I said louder. It was like they couldn’t hear me.

  He shrugged. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. But you need to know if something like that happens again I’m going to talk to the police. Stay away from Sara.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but shut it with a snap. Whatever I said, they wouldn’t believe it anyway. Sara’s lower lip was shaking. She was acting brave and pissed, but she was scared. She should be. She had no idea who she had as an enemy.

  “Fine. Thanks for the ride.”

  I slid out of the car and slammed the door behind me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Last time I’m knocking,” Mom called out. “If you’re not up in five minutes I’m going to sic Dad on you.”

  My eye sockets felt like they were filled with gravel. The blankets and sheets were wound around me like a straitjacket. I hadn’t even washed the makeup off my face the night before. My jeans and top from the party lay in a clump by the closet. My normally orderly life was in chaos.

  I sat up and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Mascara was smeared under my eyes, making me look even more haunted. I got out of bed and started to put things where they belonged. With physical order restored, I could breathe a bit better.

  My phone vibrated on the bed and I lunged for it. Zach.

  You never said how the party went. Been waiting all night. Want deets! —B

  I tossed my phone in my bag. I’d reply later. First I needed to talk to Zach.

  I lurked in front of Zach’s locker after first period. He hadn’t come to my locker before class, and I still hadn’t heard from him, despite the two texts I’d sent this morning. I could feel my nerves fraying at the edges. Unraveling.

  Warmth slid down my spine as soon as I saw him round the corner. He paused for a second when he saw me. I held out the bag I’d brought.

  “My treat this time.” I shook the bag when he didn’t reach for it. “Honey’s. A fried pastry gesture of peace. Consider it a delayed breakfast.”

  He took the bag but didn’t open it. “I shouldn’t have left you at the party without a ride. I’m sorry.” His words spilled out quickly. “I was out of line.”