by Hannah Jayne
They stood in silence for what seemed like an eon before Addie spoke. “So I saw Spencer over here the other day.”
Colton brightened. “Why, Addie Gaines! You’re a regular peeper! I mean, I have my heart set on being Mr. Maya Garcia, but I guess I could squeeze you in if you’re so into me that you’ll spy…”
Addie rolled her eyes. “We’re next-door neighbors, Colt. I happened to be walking by one of my windows, and I saw you and Spencer. And it looked like Spencer was moving in.”
Colton looked skeptical. “So I’m suppose to buy this ‘just walking by the window’ bull, huh? Okay, I guess.”
“You’re gross. So is Spencer setting up house with you or what?”
“No. I barely know the kid. He was dropping off shit for my mom.”
“Spencer’s a delivery boy?”
Colton shrugged. “His mom’s my mom’s pusher.”
Addie gaped. “Your mom does drugs?”
“She does Tupperware. Or leggings. Or candles or whatever. Spencer’s mom sells it, my mom buys it, and a couple of times a month ole Spence drops by and we make awkward conversation while my mom writes a check and I get a pair of buttery soft leggings.” He kicked out a mammoth long leg.
“Nice.”
“The guy’s weird, but his scented candle stock is top notch. I could light a few if you’re planning on peeping tonight…”
“You’re so weird.”
“Thank you. Hey, do you need a ride?”
Addie squinted down the long, serpentine road into Black Rock Hills Estates. She could see the huge wrought-iron gates yawning open, the specks of cars zipping by in the expressway just beyond. And then she saw Maya, the half-dead Accord sputtering and popping its way down the expressway, creeping through the gates.
“Nah, Maya’s right there.”
Colton’s mouth opened slightly, a wash of uber-pink going over his ears and straight to his scalp. He stiffened and took a chest-heaving breath.
“I don’t mean to sound callous about the whole Lydia thing and our new burgeoning love affair but…how do I look?”
“Like you always do.”
He frowned. “Is that good?”
Addie offered him a benign half smile. “You look great, Colton.”
Colton rubbed his hands together. “I love her, you know. Maybe I should just tell her? Like, just casually be all, ‘Hey, Maya, I love you. I love you with the heat of a thousand burning suns.’”
Addie shielded her eyes with her hand. “That would be super casual. But I don’t recommend it right now.”
“You mean because of us?”
“There is no us, Colton. And maybe with Maya, you might want to be a little more subtle.”
“Subtle, yeah.” Colton nodded, then kicked up a heel, grabbing his ankle.
“Are you stretching? What exactly are you planning to do to Maya? You know, she’s my best friend, so it behooves me to look out for her.”
He bobbled his head from side to side, cracking his neck, then dropped his foot. “I just want to be, you know, ready. And nice use of ‘behooves,’ by the way.”
Addie shrugged.
“So you don’t think now is the time to tell her?”
Addie didn’t have the heart to tell Colton that Maya already knew he was in love with her. She had known since the first day she moved there, the first day she walked into the cafeteria and Colton bought her two plates of “welcome fries,” then clumsily dumped them in her lap in a botched attempt at a grand gesture.
“You know what? I’d wait. At least until second period. Or prom. Or maybe even graduation, you know? Do it up real nice then.”
Colton nodded, considering. “Graduation, huh? I could, like, sing to her when I’m walking to get my diploma.”
“Yes, you could totally do that.” Addie stood, seeing Maya’s car creeping closer, already hearing the thump of the bass seeping from the windows. Maya’s car might have been worth fifteen hundred bucks, but the stereo alone was worth twice that. She reasoned that she needed a top-notch stereo to keep her “sane” while she drove from one hellhole to the other: Hawthorne High, then her job at Hot Dog on a Stick. “Have you seen my uniform?” She had asked Addie once. “It’s either a kicking stereo system or drugs, and you don’t want to see me on drugs, do you, Addison?”
Colton yanked open his car door, a look of sheer terror striking across his face. “I probably shouldn’t be here when she gets here, huh? I might do something stupid.”
Addie tried not to laugh as Colton—six-foot, three-inch Colton—folded himself into the front seat of his car. He could only ever take two passengers with him since the driver’s seat had to be pushed back clear against the passenger seat. Addie was certain that at least five and a half feet of Colton was long, skinny legs. Just as he backed out, Maya pulled up.
Twenty-One
“Colton too afraid to talk to me?” Maya asked.
“You are terrifying.”
“But only in the best possible way, right?”
Addie nodded. “Oh, yeah. Hey, do you have my jacket?”
Maya twisted herself and did an inelegant dive into the back seat-turned-closet. “This one or this one?” She held up two. “Or a sweatshirt?”
“How many of my clothes do you have in here, you little thief?”
“A, I always ask before I take and B, don’t think of it as thieving. Think of this as your adjunct mobile closet.”
Maya seemed immensely proud of herself. Addie groaned. “Is this my jacket? I don’t even remember it.”
“See? The benefits of me just keep coming. Everything old is new again. You’re welcome. You got this when your dad went to Paris, I think.”
Addie slipped into it, examined herself in the little makeup mirror. “Nice.”
“And perfect for you because this one…” She pulled a purple velvet, mid-thigh-length coat with a big fluffy collar that Addie wore all last year into her lap. “This one is becoming my statement piece.”
“And is that statement ‘I want to be Addison Gaines’?”
Maya pursed her lips, turned the key in the ignition until the car coughed back to life. “Maybe,” she grumbled.
***
“It’s a zoo out here,” Maya said, once they arrived on campus. She slammed her car door and turned the lock.
Something like anxiety thrummed through Addie. It hurt to breathe and her heart was pounding in her chest. There were cops on campus, cops and reporters and the grief counselors who walked around with clipboards and drawn faces. Students milled around, formed circles, sat on benches with their heads in their hands or crying on each other’s shoulders. The We love you Lydia posters had been picked apart by the night winds, the tape loosened and flapping in the breeze, Lydia’s smiling picture rolling over itself.
Addie’s stomach lurched.
“I have to get out of here.”
She headed to the ladies’ room, winding her way through news anchors giving their “countdown” pieces, past the grief counselors who offered her business cards or age-appropriate “comforting” taps on the shoulder.
Addie shrugged them off. “I just need to—”
“Hey, Addie!” It was Spencer, but still Addie didn’t stop.
She made it into the ladies’ room in time to double over, grip her knees, and pant.
“Oh God.”
She thought of Lydia, of the smiling, cheerful girl she had seen on Spencer’s arm. She thought of the girl she had seen in that very bathroom, the U-shaped bruise forming on her lower arm.
What exactly happened to Lydia Stevenson?
None of that could block out R. J. Rosen’s latest missive, his quick detail of a scene from the next book:
The stench of blood was overwhelming. Metal mixed with raw meat and something else—alcohol? Bleach? Was he tr
ying to clean up?
Jordan’s stomach clenched, bile itching at the back of her throat. She was moving slowly, painfully slow but she had to. Whatever came through the needle, was in the plunger that he shoved into her neck, was wearing off but still strong enough to make her every move an arduous effort, a thousand times harder than it should have been. She picked carefully through the darkness, through the angles and planes of the strange house. House? Was it a house? Could it be? A house was a warm comfort, a place to run to—not a place to run from. Jordan’s foot, shuffling, dragging, hit something solid, something warm. There was a soft groan. Everything inside her seized up.
Don’t look down.
Her bare foot touched something…something warm, something wet.
Blood.
Was that a sigh?
Vaulting back to high school. A classroom. Nondescript. A lecture.
“A body will sigh, wheeze, even gasp after death.”
After death?
Jordan could feel eyes on her. She was prey, plain and simple, and someone was watching her in this macabre scene. She heard the voice next, dull and grating as a serrated blade.
“You should run,” it said.
Twenty-Two
Addie’s arrow hovered over the Post button. She steadied herself, then clicked. She was thrilled that R. J. Rosen didn’t hold her non-post against her. With the swipe of a finger, Rosen’s story zoomed through cyberspace and Addie’s GapLakeLove readers were going to flip.
It didn’t take long for the first message to hit.
CRYSTALFAN321: OMG.
Then, two more—
VALERIE4: Love this!
SEEULTR: Sooooooo creepy!
She plopped onto her bed, pulling her laptop onto her crossed legs. Her stomach continued its wild flutter, her shoulders breaking out in a damp sweat. R. J. Rosen was emailing her! It was almost like she was on a date with her idol—if only she knew what he looked like…
Thanks so much for the post, Addie! My publicity team is thrilled! Your post has tons of comments, and the page hit counter is going through the roof!
Addie fanned herself, glancing at the page counter at the bottom of her site. The new story already showed reads in the high hundreds, and the comments kept coming. She was beaming.
Now, the next part of the launch comes tomorrow and there’s a huge surprise in it for you too! I hope you’ll be as excited as I am.
Addie laid her fingers over her keys. “I love it!!!!” she started writing, before erasing the myriad of exclamation points. She didn’t want to seem like a rabid superfan or even a little girl. She wanted R. J. Rosen to think of her as his colleague, maybe even one day his equal.
“That sounds spectacular,” she spoke as she wrote. “Looking forward to it.”
“Knock, knock.”
Addie’s father stood in her doorway, doing that precursory knock thing that parents do before walking into your room without being asked. He shot Addie a warm smile and sat down at her desk chair, sighing.
“You getting ready for bed?”
“Yeah, Dad, in a minute.”
“You know I was thinking that maybe I could take you out driving this weekend.”
Addie shifted on her bed. She didn’t want to look at her father, especially the way he was staring at her like she was some animal in a zoo, like he was waiting for her to pounce.
“I’m actually working at the boutique this weekend. All weekend,” she clarified, keeping her eyes on her screen.
“Addie—”
“Sorry, Dad, but you always say that work is a priority.”
He nodded, sucking in a long breath and looking away. “What are you working on?”
Addie was too excited, too proud to lie. “A story. I just posted this on my site. Look at the comments!”
She handed over her laptop. Her dad scanned the comments and nodded appreciatively. “Lots of people seem to really like what you do here, Adds.”
He scrolled up, his eyes darting across the screen as he read. Even though it was R. J. Rosen’s work, not her own, Addie could feel her pulse ratchet up and the hum of nerves like bees in her brain. Would he like it? Would they actually have something in common—something besides that terrible night?
“Well,” Addie asked when he looked up from the screen. “What do you think?”
Mr. Gaines scratched at his chin, his eyes flitting back to the screen. “I think you should delete it.”
Addie gaped. “What?”
“It’s absolutely disrespectful, Addison. A girl in your class is dead and you post this murder story on your website? Delete it.”
“No, Dad, I can’t—it’s fiction anyway.”
He handed her the laptop. “Delete it.”
“I can’t. I won’t.”
He shook his head and stood up, opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it.
“Dad, it’s just fiction and my readers are from all over the country. Hardly anyone in my school even knows that I’m the one who runs this site so no one is going to…to…” she thought of Lydia, laughing, head thrown back, and then the empty seat when Lydia sat in her AP bio class. She thought of the posters that had gone up, the candles, the memorial. Was she really a terrible person?
“No one is going to think that this story has anything to do with Lydia Stevenson,” she said.
Right?
Twenty-Three
Addie handed the cashier her money and took her latte when Colton came barreling up behind her.
“Have you seen your blog yet?”
“What? No, why? What’s going on?” Addie started to wrestle her laptop out of her bag while Colton bounded from foot to foot behind her.
“Everyone is talking about it! You must have posted something good.”
Maya edged in between Colton and Addie. “Are you serious? Adds, you’re famous!”
“I’m not,” Addie said, “R. J. Rosen is.”
Colton chimed in. “Once you posted that first story—and oh my God, I have to say, I don’t read that stuff normally but—”
“Because then you can’t sleep at night?” Maya said with an enormous mock frown and big, batting eyelashes.
“Yeah, I have trouble sleeping at night. Want to come and keep me company?” Colton arched an eyebrow, and Maya stuck her tongue out at him.
“Wait, what are you guys talking about?” Addie wanted to know. “I didn’t post a new story. I posted R. J. Rosen’s story—”
“Oh my God.”
Addie’s laptop was open, the GapLakeLove site immediately popping up and populating the screen.
“Did you do that? Addie, that’s horrible.” Maya’s eyes darkened and she shook her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. “How could you do that?”
Colton was pale. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Addie?”
Addie looked at her screen and her stomach turned.
Her beautiful banner was gone. The pretty logo that she and Colton had worked so hard on was anemic looking, drowned out by a slash-style logo done in blood red: LIFE IMITATES ART. Underneath were pictures of Lydia. It seemed like there were hundreds of them, exploding on the screen one after another: Lydia on the debate team. Lydia as homecoming princess. Lydia grinning in the quad. One by one the pictures popped up with dizzying fury and one by one they were scratched out by the blood red slasher font.
Lydia in her car on the day that she died.
Lydia from behind a clutch of bushes on the way to the journalism building.
Lydia looking over her shoulder, eyes wide, lips pulled into a terrified grimace.
And Lydia, in the journalism room, head bowed, body crumpled at the desk.
Addie slammed the laptop shut. She wanted to speak, to scream, to protest, but she was terrified that if she
opened her mouth, she would throw up. The tears started immediately. “I didn’t do this. You guys have to believe me. I didn’t…I wouldn’t.”
Colton and Maya were staring at her, silent.
“Say something! Maya, you know I wouldn’t.”
The tears were pouring over Maya’s cheeks, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.
Colton frowned. “Addie, who had access to your computer?”
“What? Nobody. It’s been in my backpack since I got home from school yesterday.”
“What about passwords? Someone could have accessed the site.”
“No,” Addie shook her head, used the back of her hand to wipe at her eyes. “No, only you and me. We have to get this off there, Colton. We have to get this off there right now. People are seeing this. People are hitting the site and they’re going to think that we did this, that we think this is okay. It’s not, it’s not!” Addie was crying hard, big racking sobs that hurt her rib cage. Maya immediately snatched her in a hug.
“We’ll get rid of it right now. Right now. Shut it down, Colton. Shut it down, right now.”
Colton already had the laptop open, the flashes from Lydia’s pictures casting a sickly glow over his face. His fingers flew over the keyboard, and he went from a gentle maneuver to stabbing at the keys. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean, ‘you can’t’? Shut it down, Colton. You don’t have to fix it, just shut the goddamn thing down.”
“Whoever did this changed all the passwords. The site is locked, Addie. I can’t—we can’t do anything.”
Addie gaped. “No, you’re wrong.” She shoved Colton from his desk chair and started pounding keys randomly. “The password is Declan Levy. I know it is. I’m sure of it. Colton, it’s not working. Why isn’t it working?”
Each time she typed, the screen froze, then vibrated. A red box with a black skull and crossbones shot across the screen, the words PASSWORD DENIED emblazoned in front. “I don’t understand.”
Colton leaned forward and flicked the Power button, the offending screen going mercifully black and silent.
“Did you do it?” Maya asked quietly.
Colton’s jaw was set hard, his eyes downcast. “I just turned off the computer. I’m sorry, Addie, I don’t know what happened.”