by Hannah Jayne
“She’s going to be fine,” Chief Garcia assured her. “If you can remember, where was the car coming from?”
Addie pointed. “It was parked right there. I remember that. It was parked.”
“Okay, good. Can you remember the make of the car?”
She shook her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I don’t know. I don’t know cars. I don’t even drive. All I know is he was at the curb, I think. I’m sure. No, I’m pretty sure. He was at the curb in front of the school and then he was…he was…the car just hit Maya.”
“You said ‘he.’ Did you see the driver?”
Addie shook her head miserably. “No.”
“Chief Garcia? Detective? We’re ready to take Maya to the hospital now.”
The detective glanced back at Addie, then gave the paramedic a sharp nod. “I’ll ride with her.”
“I’m right behind her,” the Chief said.
Addie watched Maya’s parents in a brief embrace before they got into their separate vehicles and took Maya to the hospital, leaving Addie and Louisa standing on the curb.
“I want to go to the hospital.”
Louisa shook her head. “They won’t let you see her anyway, at least not yet. Best that you come home, especially if you’re feeling sick. It’ll be okay.”
Addie didn’t move when Louisa tugged her by the arm. She stayed rooted, watching the police cars, listening to the engines turn over one by one as they backed out and pulled away. Once they were gone, it was like nothing ever happened except for Maya’s shoe, left there in the road. Addie darted across the street to grab it. As she stood up, she saw that there were still a handful of students lingering, staring.
You’ll post or else. R. J. Rosen was still haunting her.
Thirty-Four
Louisa pulled into the driveway and let Addie out of the car.
“Wait, I’ll come in.”
Addie shook her head. It had been throbbing since she’d gotten back in Louisa’s car. He throat ached from constant crying, and her eyes felt like she had rubbed them with sandpaper. “I’m okay.”
Louisa set her jaw and looked Addie over. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
Addie just shrugged and slammed the car door, trudging up the front porch. She had to think. Louisa sat in the front seat of her car and stared out; she waited a beat then picked up her phone. Addie was sure the woman was texting her father.
She shut the door behind her with a soft click, loving the cool emptiness of the house. It was cavernous and dark; just the way Addie felt. Her hands were shaking, a violent tremor that went up her arms and sunk deep into her bones. She could hear her teeth chatter as she sunk to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.
Maya was lying in a hospital bed somewhere, probably hooked up to a thousand wires. It should have been Addie. She tried to cry, but there was nothing there. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed her best friend.
Addie’s heart thudded with each ring. She was going to hang up when she heard, “Addie?”
Her breath caught, like a fist to her gut. “Chief Garcia. Is…is Maya all right?”
The police chief sucked in a deep sigh and Addie felt the tension pulsing through her. “She is, yes. We’re actually taking her home right now.”
Elation, like a hot spark, shot through Addie. “Can I talk to her?”
“Honey, I don’t think that would be the best.”
“Please? Please? I just need to know that she’s all right.”
I just need to know that she doesn’t blame me.
Addie heard murmuring on Chief Garcia’s end of the phone. There was a muffled fumbling, then Maya’s voice, still soft, still raspy. “Addie?”
“Oh thank God, Maya, I thought you were—”
“Dead? Me too.”
Addie smiled even as fresh tears made tracks down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what? You weren’t driving.”
Addie pressed her finger into the soft flesh of her arm, watching the way the blood drained, leaving an oblong white O on her flesh. “I think that car was meant for me.”
“How do you know that?”
Addie worried her bottom lip, pinched the bridge of her nose where the thud of her headache thumped like a snare drum. “Think about it: you were wearing my coat.”
“And?”
“And everyone in school thinks I’m a murderer.”
“So you think they were trying to wipe you out? Addie, that doesn’t make sense even in your twisted, Gap Lake–stained mind.”
Addie’s stomach felt leaden at the mention of Gap Lake. “And R. J. Rosen…” She could practically hear Maya roll her eyes.
“And R. J. Rosen nothing. He sent you some emails, Adds. He’s not your guardian angel.”
“I don’t think he’s a guardian at all, Maya. I think he’s evil.”
“And completely out of his mind?”
“What are you talking about?”
Maya snort laughed, then seemed to wince. “Ow. Remind me not to laugh, even at you. Addie, I was wearing your coat. Totally true. I’m also darker than you are, have way better hair, and basically go up to your waist. If someone was gunning for you and thought that I was you, then you’re in the clear. Your stalker is a damn idiot.”
“Maya, I—”
She wanted to tell Maya that the emails had turned sinister.
“Addie,” Chief Garcia cut her off. “Maya really needs to rest. We’re headed home.”
“Oh, then I’ll come over and meet you there. Is that okay?”
There was a slight, soft pause. “I don’t think so.”
“But—”
The phone clicked in her ear, the silence deafening.
Addie took the stairs two at a time. She fired up her laptop, pulled up all the emails from R. J. Rosen, and hit Print. She paused when the printer spat out the last page, then turned back to her screen.
AddieGaines:
I’m not posting anything else.
TheRealRJRosen:
You promised.
AddieGaines:
I told you I was done and I am. I’m deleting the GapLakeLove site too. Don’t contact me ever again.
TheRealRJRosen:
That sounds very, very serious.
AddieGaines:
Just stop. I’m going to the police.
TheRealRJRosen:
With what?
AddieGaines:
Everything. All your emails, your posts, everything.
TheRealRJRosen:
I write fiction. All the stories I sent you were complete works of fiction.
AddieGaines:
Aren’t you the one who said, “Life Imitates Art”?
TheRealRJRosen:
Clever girl! What I should have said was “Art Imitates Death.” How’s your little friend by the way?
Addie’s blood went cold. She whirled around, suddenly feeling eyes on her, eyes everywhere. She yanked down the blinds, pulled the curtains.
AddieGaines:
How do you know about Maya?
TheRealRJRosen:
I’m the omniscient narrator. I know all. I control all.
AddieGaines:
Stupid. I’m going to the police and they’re going to lock your ass up in jail.
TheRealRJRosen:
Or yours.
AddieGaines:
Meaning?
TheRealRJRosen:
Who’s the real writer here?
AddieGaines:
Fuck you.
TheRealRJRosen:
You know in the book when the pretty young ingénue goes to the police? What happens?
Addie started to type, tried to log out, but another message came through.
TheRealR
JRosen:
She only makes things worse. It’s only going to get worse for you, Addie.
Thirty-Five
Addie slammed her laptop shut, the bile itching at the back of her throat. She unplugged the thing and dumped it in her backpack, yanking handfuls of R. J.’s emails and messages from the printer tray and shoving those in too. She tried to steal herself, to catch her breath, but her heart was hammering like a fire bell, heat bursting behind her eyes, the ache of her head like a scythe scraping along her brain.
“Fuck you, R. J. Rosen,” she muttered to herself. “Fuck you, whoever you are.”
Addie bounded down the stairs and out the front door, stopping on the porch. Louisa wasn’t there. Her father wasn’t there. She spun, helpless, then pulled out her phone, finger hovering over the Zap Car app. She had used Zap a dozen times before; they were the only car service that came out to Black Rock Hills Estates, but something about calling a stranger and slipping into his car felt wrong. She had no idea who R. J. Rosen was.
He had told her it was going to get worse.
What if he drove the Zap Car?
She spotted Colton’s car snaking up the main road. He slowed in front of her house, gave her a finger wave before pulling into his driveway.
Once he got out, he made a beeline for Addie. “Is Maya okay?”
Addie nodded, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “She’s going to be okay. Did you see what happened?”
He shook his head. “Not really. Did someone actually hit her?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t see it all—didn’t see everything. I mean…I should have.”
“Hey.” Colton reached out, laid one of his big hands on Addie’s shoulder, and squeezed gently. “Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“You’re beating yourself up. This wasn’t your fault.”
If you only knew…
“I just feel responsible. Maya wouldn’t have even been out there if it wasn’t for me. She was walking me out because…because I just couldn’t deal.”
Colton’s ice-blue eyes were sharp and he pinned Addie with a gaze. “First of all, the only person responsible for hurting Maya was the idiot in the Dodge. That’s it. You didn’t hit her, you didn’t cause it.”
Addie could feel the prick behind her eyes again. “You don’t understand, Colton.” She sniffed, using the back of her hand to swipe at her nose. “Maya was wearing my jacket. She looked just like me. I mean, a little shorter, but her hood was up and I think…I really think the person who hit her was aiming for me. He thought he was going to hit me.”
Colton narrowed his eyes. “Why would you think that? Why would anyone hit either of you unless he was drunk or high or something?”
Addie dropped her head, studied the toes of her shoes. “People think I killed Lydia, Colton.”
He reached out, clamped a hand on her wrist so quickly it startled Addie. “No one thinks that.”
“Everyone thinks that. Why do you think I left school? Everyone was staring and people were talking. They think that because I was with Spencer this morning and because of the site and the fan fiction…”
“That’s stupid. Addie. I’ve known you almost my whole life and I know you would never do anything like that. You couldn’t hurt a fly.”
Addie chuckled despite her tears. “You’ve known me for three years.”
“That’s what I said, like, my whole life.” He cocked his head, eyes soft, half smile pushing up one apple cheek. “Trust me: no one actually believes that you had anything to do with Lydia’s death. And no one was trying to mow you down to get some kind of literary revenge.”
Addie knew Colton was joking, but the stupid phrase “literary revenge” sent a cold shiver down her spine. She considered telling Colton about R. J. Rosen, about the creepy messages. About the one that said it was “only going to get worse for her.” She shook herself.
“I really don’t know what to believe anymore, but I need help.”
“Okay.” Colton spread his legs, put his fists on his hips, Superman style. “I’m your man. What do you need?”
“A ride?”
He gestured toward his car. “I can totally do that. Your chariot awaits, miss.”
Addie smiled and followed Colton to his funky car, wrinkling her nose when she got in. She stared out the passenger side window, then rolled it down quickly. She knew teen boys smelled. She knew that Colton wasn’t exactly known for his excellent hygiene practices. He wasn’t an athlete, but his car smelled like an unholy combination of gym socks and blue cheese. Even with the fresh air whistling in the through the window, the stench was powerful.
“Look, I am so thankful that you’re helping me right now, but I have to tell you Colton, your car stinks.”
A flit of red shot across Colton’s cheeks, but he smiled anyway. “You sound like everyone I know when you say that.” He shrugged. “And really, it’s an easy fix. I just have to find the sandwich or sneakers or rat that’s rotting somewhere in here.”
Addie scooted to the edge of the seat. “There’s a dead rat in here?”
“It’s most likely a dead cheeseburger, but I like to cover all my bases. Where did you say we were going?”
“To the police station.”
Colton paled at the mention of the police.
“You okay?” Addie asked, touching his arm.
He forced a laugh that was tinny and unnatural, shaking Addie’s hand off and batting at the air. “Yeah, totally. It’s just—it was a long time ago. Me and the po-po are like”—he knitted his fingers together—“cool now.”
Addie bit back a smile, trying her best to stifle it.
Colton narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“I was fourteen.”
Addie pursed her lips together.
“It was a stupid prank. A bunch of seniors dared me to. I didn’t know the conviction would”—Addie could see the quirk of a smile at the edges of Colton’s lips now too—“stick.”
Addie snorted, a wild loud guffaw. “Then you shouldn’t have used superglue!” She sputtered laughing, tears rollicking over her cheeks.
“They said, ‘Moon the cops.’ How was I supposed to know they’d superglue my cheeks to the windshield? It’s not that funny, you know.” But Colton was smiling. “That shit hurt.”
“I heard it took four officers to free your ass.”
Colton clucked his tongue. “Lies. It was six officers and two firefighters. Like you’ve never done anything crazy.”
Addie shook her head, wiped the tears from her eyes. “Clean slate here. I’m just a nice girl.”
“Yeah?” Colton asked, head cocked.
Addie bit her bottom lip. “Yeah.”
She jumped when her phone pinged, the humor dropping immediately. Colton jutted his chin toward the phone in Addie’s hand. “Do you need to get that?”
Addie gritted her teeth, her saliva tasting bitter. She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to see R. J. Rosen’s response.
The phone pinged again.
“Someone’s insistent,” Colton said with a slight grin.
Addie chanced a glance down at the screen of her phone, heartbeat thudding to a stop when she saw the name.
Spencer Cohen.
Spencer.
Addie couldn’t stop the smile that shot across her lips. She couldn’t stop the wash of guilt either, hearing the whispers of those girls from school: she’s moving in on a dead girl’s ex.
She slid open her phone, blinked at the message.
Spencer:
Saw you outside school. Just wanted to make sure you were ok.
AddieGaines:
Yeah, thank you. Maya got hit but she’s going to be fine.
They drove in silence for a beat, Colton tapping his
long fingers on the steering wheel. “So… Why are we going to the police station?”
Addie looked away, studying the view out the window, inching her finger along the hard plastic there. “I—I think I have some information about Lydia’s murder.” She swung her head to face Colton, to gauge his reaction. His face remained unchanged.
“Really?”
“I’ve been getting some really weird texts and emails and…”
“You think they’re from Lydia’s killer?”
Addie shrugged. “Maybe.”
Colton dropped into silence for a beat, then cleared his throat. “You know the police have cleared Spencer.”
Addie blinked. “I didn’t know that, but I figured they would. I mean, he’s…he’s cool and really nice.” She shot him a small smile, but Colton wouldn’t look at her, his eyes glued to the huge, empty expanse in front of them. “I guess.” Then, “Hey, I’ve got to be somewhere in a half hour…”
“Oh, sure, of course. I can totally get a ride home from the police department. I don’t even—I mean, they might not even listen to anything I have to say. It does sound kind of crazy.”
“So, who’s this person who’s been emailing you?”
Addie swallowed hard. “He says he’s R. J. Rosen.”
Colton flipped on his blinker, cruised smoothly into the police station parking lot.
“You don’t think it’s really him?”
Addie shook her head, embarrassment washing over her. “No.”
“Why would someone pretend to be an author?”
“To punish me.”
Colton pursed his lips, looking Addie over. He looked like he wanted to comment but shrugged instead.
Addie put her hand on his shoulder. “It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
Colton didn’t say anything. “If it helps find Lydia’s killer, it can’t be stupid, right?” He flashed a small smile.
She let herself out of the car. “Thanks, Colton.”
“Good luck, Addie.”