by Lucy Lambert
As everyone else got up to go, the volume of conversation swelling as chairs and desks squeaked, I grabbed my phone. No messages from Adam or Jenn. It was a few minutes shy of one in the afternoon, and outside the sun had managed to burn away the last few shreds of that earlier fog.
My breath misted in front of me as the cool air prickled in my lungs. The dead grass crunched beneath my feet, and I wondered if it was going to snow soon.
I went down the stairs to the main walk. As it was between classes, hordes of students brushed past me. A few grumbled as I stopped and looked out across the fields at the campus.
The coolness of the air seemed to make everything sharp and still. I imagined for a moment that I could see everything with perfect clarity. But I still couldn’t find Jenn.
The quickest way back to my dorm was to cut across the field on the other side of the street. I started to look both ways (more often than not, there was an expensive BMW or Mercedes rolling through) and even put one foot down on the road.
A second later I pulled it back. It was still more than five hours until I met up with Adam. Normally I spent this time doing my assigned readings or outlining a paper. Scholarships don’t maintain themselves, as I knew all too well.
But I had gone to class. That counted for something, right? I decided on a compromise. I’d attended class, now I was going to spend some time continuing the search.
So I rejoined the flow of students on the sidewalk. People sniffled or coughed or talked loudly as we all went down this main artery, students splitting off at this intersection or that.
I followed a group of three laughing girls into Jenn’s dorm. There was such a difference in the air just stepping through the door. It got really cold up in Massachusetts, as I was finding out. I hoped it was this toasty in my building.
As I went up the stairs, I pulled out my phone and dialed Jenn. The robo-voice of her voicemail answered once more, so I hung up and shoved the phone back into my pocket with a sigh.
Her room was still dark and empty, and neither Straight Hair nor Curly Hair (still sitting in their room wearing their laundry day clothes, did they have anything else?) had seen her come back.
Then I remembered that I, too, was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday. Walking and moving and sweating had worked some of the wrinkles out, but they still made me uncomfortable in my own skin.
“Okay,” I said, once more back outside on the walk in the chilly pre-winter air, “Go home and change, you can spare that much time.”
A guy wearing a green hunting jacket shot me a funny look for talking to myself as he walked by. My cheeks heated and I stared at the pockmarked sidewalk in front of my feet the rest of the way to my dorm.
It was just that I had to say that out loud. The guilt within me was too much to overpower by thought alone. This all still felt like my fault. Vick was right in that I hadn’t kidnapped Jenn. But if I’d just chosen her over Adam, we’d have stayed at her place and she’d have been sitting beside me today in lecture.
That change of clothes back at my dorm turned into a shower (a nice hot one with clouds of steam rolling out over the bathroom) spending some more time choosing a new getup than I’d originally thought, as well as grabbing lunch at the tiny cafe in the basement of my dorm (grilled cheese with bacon, nice and hot).
Back up in my room, I sat cross-legged on my bed, staring out at the blue sky. A few tree branches reached towards my window, waving a little in the breeze. Just looking out there sent a shiver down my back, and I resisted climbing back under my warm covers.
Adam didn’t say anything about not calling him. I was stuck in my own rudimentary search. The frustration of it boiled inside me, changing the pleasantly full sensation from my grilled cheese to a queasy one.
Aside from waiting a few more hours to call the cops, I was at the end of my rope. Adam was from here, from a rich family. The resources he had access to counted for something, didn’t they?
Vick’s warning came to mind, then. I also thought of how I’d been unable to tell if Adam was lying to me.
I called him. It was nice to actually hear a line ring a few times, instead of once and then to voicemail.
“Hey,” he said. His voice sounded a little different over the phone, more distant somehow, more hollow.
“Hi… It’s me, Steph. Any news?”
Anticipation built inside me as I asked a question, like I was in a rollercoaster being winched to the top of that first drop.
Adam sighed, “Nothing yet. But I’m looking. Don’t worry; as soon as I learn anything, I’ll let you know. Okay?”
I started nodding and then stopped when I realized how stupid it was. I was on the phone with him, how could he see me do that?
“Yeah, okay. Just… As soon as you know anything. Like, that very second, you’ll call, right?”
“Right. Just be cool. Everything will work out. Don’t forget: cafeteria, six thirty.”
“Got it,” I said.
He hung up. I looked at the phone. The conversation lasted barely over a minute. One minute down, a few hours to go before I could meet him.
I thought about grabbing one of my books. The last quarter of Jane Eyre beckoned to me, as well as a chapter out of my history book on America post-Revolution. But it would be just like in my lecture. My body would be there, but the rest of me would be wondering if Adam had found Jenn, or if she’d be knocking at my door any second to make a dinner date.
Was this how a smoker felt when they went cold turkey? Just sitting there, unable to think of anything else, yet unable to actually satisfy their urges?
Smoking made me think of being sick, which made me think of cancer, which brought my mom back to the front of my thoughts.
When was the last time I called her? God, it had to be like two weeks ago. Things were really changing with me. When I first got to Redeemer, she was all I could think about. How she was doing, whether they were treating her well, hoping she was able to cope without me, wondering how I could possibly cope without her.
The number for the research center was programmed into my phone. I hit the “Call” button, then punched in the extension when the female robot voice asked for it.
It was late afternoon here in Massachusetts. That meant it was around lunch back home. The phone rang once, twice. Would she be busy eating, still? Maybe she wasn’t in her room.
In the middle of the third ring, she picked up.
“Hello?” she sounded good, if a little tired.
“Mom?”
“Steph!” her tone shifted, her excitement palpable, “How are you? How’s school? Are you doing well?”
I smiled even as I felt the pressure build behind my eyes. It really was good to hear her again. Just listening to her voice made me want to pack everything up and run away.
It was a strange thought. How many people ran away from their life to go back home? Wasn’t it usually the opposite?
But at the same time another emotion rose up in opposition: resistance. It was surprising. Despite everything that happened in the last few days, I liked it here. I still wanted to be here.
A warm feeling spread out from my chest.
“Thanks, mom,” I said.
“For what?”
“Oh, nothing… nothing.”
I couldn’t tell her that just hearing her voice gave me the little bit of strength I needed to stay where I was and see this through. She had been the one to get me to come out here in the first place.
“School’s going well. Passing all my courses and all that.”
I could practically hear her smiling. I imagined her leaning back in her chair or on her bed, one hand laid over her chest as she smiled. The thought made me smile, too.
“And you’re still having a good time with your new friends?”
I’d told her about going to the parties at Jim’s, about finding a good friend in Jenn. Of course, I hadn’t said anything too particular about what went on at these parties.
&nbs
p; “Yes, mom…”
“Oh! Have you met a boy yet?”
“Mom!”
I’d met a couple boys, actually. I found myself thinking both of Adam and of Vick. They were so different from one another, but they were both in my mind. Of course, I had no idea what Adam actually wanted. Really, was that night a date or wasn’t it?
And Vick was just so intense, and really different from all the other guys in the frat. Why was he with them in the first place?
“I’m sorry about all the questions, sweetie. It can just get so boring here, is all. I’ve been thinking of you a lot lately.”
“Things are going well, then?” I said, smiling. It was nice to have some good news for once. Good news was the real fuel that kept people going. Without it, you just lose the will to really do anything but exist. I knew that feeling all too well. It was the thing that made me hide that UCLA letter all those months ago.
“Yes, the doctors say the numbers and results they’re seeing are very promising. One of them actually said just yesterday that they didn’t even think this would have been possible without me actually coming and staying here. Getting that acceptance letter was serendipity, Steph!”
“Yeah…” I said.
We talked for about an hour longer. I knew this was going to fatten my cell bill, but it was worth it.
I wanted to keep talking until I had to go, but I could hear mom’s strength beginning to fade. Her laughs got a little more forced every few minutes, her voice a little more distant. Until finally she had to end it.
“I’m sorry, Steph. I’d love to talk all night, but there’s a nurse in the room giving me a look like the one you used to use when I didn’t want to take my pills. I’m going to take a nap for a while, I think. Please, call again soon. I love you,”
“I love you, too, mom,” I said. I heard her receiver clatter as she hung it up, and then the line went dead.
My ear hurt from having the phone pressed against it for so long. And the cell was hot, too. It was creepy how they got hot like that.
I tossed the phone down onto the bed and gently rubbed my ear. The flesh was warm, feverish. A pit opened up in my stomach as I looked out my window. It got dark out so early late in Fall.
That call had transported me into a happy place while I was on it, but now that it was over, I was back here in reality. The quiet pressed in around me, and my breathing sounded too loud.
I made myself concentrate on the good news from mom. We both seemed to be doing so much better now that I wasn’t clinging desperately to that meager, status quo existence I’d left behind in Pasadena.
Shifting myself off the bed, I stretched, wincing as the blood flowed back into my legs. Throwing on my jacket, and I went out to meet Adam at the cafeteria and find out what he’d learned about Jenn’s disappearance.
Chapter 22
The place was pretty packed with students still eating supper. It was pasta night, and I could smell the rich sauce. My stomach grumbled at me, and I fretted about how long I’d have to stand in line. Had Adam already grabbed food?
I went over to get into the spaghetti line, casually scanning all the tables full of students for Adam. The big room thrummed with conversation, with the metallic noise of fork and knife on plates, with the sizzle of cooking.
There didn’t really seem to be anywhere to sit, either. But that was okay; we could worry about that after I’d secured myself some supper.
“There you are. Let’s go,” Adam said, taking one hand out of his jacket long enough to tap me on the arm.
“But… Aren’t we getting supper?” I said. My stomach was hollow.
“No. Not here. Come on, if I leave the car out there too long they’ll tow it.”
He grabbed the red plastic tray out of my hand and set it back on the stack. Then he pulled me out of the line. The students behind me filed forward to take my place.
“But… food..” I said as he pulled me slowly around the knots of people towards the exit. My stomach seemed to lag behind me, unwilling to leave.
Why couldn’t he just tell me whatever he had to say right there at the cafeteria?
Instead, he let me outside into the cold night air. That actually helped a bit with the hunger as my body contracted against the chill. It really was frigid out. There seemed to be ice crystals floating around, glinting a little in the light.
“Get in,” he said, opening the door.
It was a late-model BMW sedan, its black coat shiny and smooth. I sat down and clicked my seatbelt in place by muscle memory, my eyes and thoughts still on the double exit doors from the cafeteria.
The car jounced a little as Adam got in, and the engine purred like some purebred cat when he turned the car on.
It was a strange contrast. The BMW had all the luxury accessories: leather seats, a GPS right in the dash, the speedometer and all the other gauges projected onto the windshield. And in the driver seat sat a guy wearing a torn leather jacket, blue jeans with torn, thready knees, and a few days worth of stubble on his cheeks.
He even looked uncomfortable there, shifting to find the right position. The automatic mirrors kept whining as they tried to follow his movements.
He pulled away just as one of the campus’ Crown Victoria security cruisers pulled around.
“Where are we going? Did you find Jenn?”
“Not yet. But I did some checking, and I think I might have an idea what’s happened.”
I turned towards him, the cafeteria gone from my mind. The shoulder strap dug into my flesh.
“Really? What is it?” I said.
Adam sighed, his eyes scanning the road ahead. There was another car waiting to pull out of the campus, its brake lights a sinister red.
“I… I can’t really explain it here.”
“So, where are we going?” I said.
“My place. My parents’ place. It’s just on the other side of town.â€�
Hazelglen was so small it didn’t really have anything resembling a rush hour. In fact, I thought it probably only had a couple intersections with traffic lights. And that was on Main Street. The rest of the town was all four-way stops.
There weren’t many pedestrians, either. Everyone wanted to stay out of the frost, I guess. A few people scurried down the sidewalks, their shoulders hunched.
We passed the police department, which was a rather modern-looking building nestled between two houses. A couple cruisers sat in front of it, and I could see the officer sitting at the front desk in his black uniform. If I called them now, would they consider Jenn a missing person? It should have been long enough.
The BMW’s engine purred louder as we started up the other side of the valley. Was his place outside town? The bright blue halogen headlights lit the trees and the shoulder of the road in spectral light.
I would have missed the driveway if we didn’t turn onto it.
The old house was surrounded by an impenetrable tangle of trees. Even with no leaves, their branches were all so close together I couldn’t see the sky. The house sat on a circular plot, the dead grass cut short right up to the edge of the tree line.
The house was three floors high, with a central turret poking a bit over top of the tree canopy like some sort of snorkel.
There were no lights on in the many windows. It was the sort of place you might expect to see in a ghost story. Except the shutters were all in place, none hanging loose to flap and whine on their hinges in the breeze. The paint, from what I could see of it in the car’s headlights, looked fresh and not chipped.
Despite the obvious care taken for it, a shiver ran down my spine and I shifted uncomfortably on my heated seat.
“Is… Is anyone home?” I said.
“Only me. The family doesn’t like to spend a lot of time around here. It’s hard to shake a reputation in a small town.”
“So why are you here?”
He killed the engine. The headlights stayed on for a few moments before dying as well. A shot of fear ran down through t
he center of my chest. Keep calm, I told myself, it’s just an old house. But what did it have to do with Jenn?
Adam stepped out of the car, his feet crunching the gravel on the driveway. Cold air rushed into the cabin, forcing my little pocket of warmth out. The windshield started fogging with my misty breaths.
“Tradition. All the Arnold men go to Redeemer. Come on, it’s warm inside. And there’s food,” he added, snorting a little laugh.
The front door was up four steps, surrounded by a covered porch. At that moment, the patio furniture sat in the dark were mounds of monstrous shadow.
Adam unlocked the big old oak door and tugged it open. Even with it dark inside, I could feel how big the room inside was as my senses reached out into it.
He flicked on the light.
“Home, sweet home…” he said, sounding like he’d rather be anywhere else at that moment.
“Wow…”
An enormous chandelier suspended from the ceiling (which seemed to go all the way up through the first and second floors here) lit the hall. There was a broad spiral staircase ahead. More rooms let off from this one. I thought I saw the end of a long dinner table through a set of French doors.
“You live here?” I said. It seemed like a grand old hotel.
A grand old haunted hotel, that is.
“I try to spend as much time away as possible. There are people who come once every few days to make sure everything’s still clean, but usually I’m all alone here.”
“Is Jenn here now?” I said, hoping this was all some big surprise reveal about how he’d found her and nursed her back to health here.
“No. Come on; kitchen’s this way. Sorry I had to pull you away like that, but there’s not a whole lot of time.”
“Time for what?” I said.
Then he grasped my hand. My body responded, buzzing with a contented warmth. This was what I’d wanted after our date (I know he never said it was a date, but I’m saying it was!). His palm was warm and dry, and his fingers squeezed just tight enough around mine as he led me away from that massive entry hall.