4
Friday
February 2
I wake up to the rain gently patting against my window.
Despite my annoyance at being damp when I'm out and about, I actually love the rain. There's something about the sound that's deeply calming. My Fitbit vibrates on my wrist, the silent alarm telling me it's 6:00 a.m. and time to get up.
Raising my arms above my head, I stretch them out as far as I can and arch my back. Before my parents died, I would sleep in as long as I could and roll my eyes whenever Mom told me I should be making the most of each day and not sleeping my life away.
Now no matter how much I don't want to get out of bed, I do it anyway. Mom will never get that chance again.
Right. Get up.
I grip a fistful of my quilt and throw it off my body. The cool air from the old house immediately makes goose bumps rise on my skin, so I sit up before I change my mind, snuggle back under the covers, and drift back to sleep.
I leave my bedroom and move across the hall to the bathroom. It's warmer in here; the radiator was installed last year and it kicks out a lot of heat.
When I'm finished showering and getting dressed, I tiptoe downstairs, stepping over the creaky floorboards so I don't wake anyone.
Sonny and Sienna are the only ones who get up around the same time I do. Everyone else is bloody lazy. The kitchen is quiet as I creep toward it. Charlotte and Isaac both have bedrooms downstairs, so we keep the noise down until 7:00 a.m. when they surface.
"Morning," I say to Sienna, who's already perched on a seat in the kitchen. Her sleek hair is sticking out all over the place. "Bad night?"
She doesn't even look up from her massive cup of black coffee. "Ugh. Couldn't sleep. Tired," she mumbles.
"We don't usually beat Sonny. Has he been down yet?"
"He wasn't in his room," she mutters in a monotone voice that makes her sound like she's prerecorded the sentence.
"How do you know?" I ask, grabbing a mug for my own coffee.
"His door was open. No idea where he is."
I turn to face her. "That's weird. He doesn't stay out. Ever." Sonny's a massive ladies' man. I doubt I can count high enough to number his "conquests," as he calls them, but not once has he stayed over with anyone. He would never risk the awkward morning walk of shame or morning-after conversation.
Sienna shrugs. "I thought so too. Maybe he's changing his ways." She pauses, and a small, low-pitched laugh bubbles out of her throat involuntarily. "Or maybe not."
I pour my coffee and join Sienna at the table, waiting for everyone else to get up.
Logically, I know worrying about a grown guy who's probably decided to stay out all night is ridiculous, but something is wrong. I can feel it. I'm unsettled; my stomach is full of lead. Since my parents' death, I've always prepared for the worst. When they arrived at hospital after the accident, they were both expected to make a full recovery. Mom died on the operating table, and Dad died less than forty minutes later after massive internal bleeding.
"Have you heard from Sonny?" I ask when Charlotte and Isaac walk in the room an hour later. Once I know where he is, I'll be able to settle.
Charlotte raises her eyebrows. Her expression says it all: He wouldn't call me if I were the last human on Earth. And fair point; he wouldn't.
Isaac lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "Nope."
"He hasn't come home yet," I explain.
"Really?" Isaac asks. "He's probably fallen asleep in some girl's bed by accident. Likely had too much to drink."
"Hmm, maybe," I murmur.
"Should we worry?" Sienna asks, now more awake after her second caffeine hit. "This really is unlike him."
My stomach tilts with unease. Sonny is always here in the morning--especially when he has class. His family doesn't live nearby either, so he rarely goes home even when we're on a break. He's always here.
I push my chair out and stand up. "I'm going to ask Chace if he knows anything."
"Ask Chace if he knows anything about what?" Chace's voice is like a volt of electricity to my heart. Every. Bloody. Time.
Look at his face, not at how incredible his toned arms look in his gray T-shirt.
"Sonny's missing," Isaac says.
"Whoa. Missing? So we're definitely saying he's missing?" I ask. My heart starts to race. Isaac's words give my worst fears life, and, suddenly, they grow from a nagging worry in the back of my mind to an overwhelming apprehension.
Were those notes serious threats?
"He's not here, and we don't know where he is. I think that's the exact definition of missing," Isaac counters.
Chace shakes his head, causing his messy blond hair to ruffle. It's beyond cute. "Don't overreact. Maybe he decided to take up running again. Maybe he's gone to the shop. Maybe he accidentally fell asleep at some girl's place?"
Chace's explanations are all possible...if you don't know Sonny.
"I'm going to try his cell again," I say, jabbing my finger at his name on the screen.
"We're all worried, Lylah, but you seem paranoid," Chace replies. As he walks past me, his arm brushes against my back. I'm not sure if was intentional or accidental, but I'm not going to complain. Also, I'm not paranoid; I'm being a concerned friend. A good friend.
I put the phone to my ear and wait. When Sonny's voicemail message begins, I hang up. "It's not even ringing."
"He's fine, Lylah. Are you ready to go?" Chace asks, pouring coffee into a travel mug. We have so much editing to do for our advertising campaign class project, but that's not really what I'm worrying about right now.
"Er, yeah. I'm ready." I turn to Isaac, Sienna, and Charlotte. "Will you guys text me when you hear from him?"
"Yeah. I'll swing by the coffee house and library on my way to the gym and see if he's there," Isaac offers. "To be honest though, this whole situation seems like something he'd pull. You know how he loves a show. The notes, the picture, the drinks. It was probably all him."
Sienna stands and brushes her hair back with her fingers. "I'll join you at the gym before class, Isaac. You do have a point though. If anyone is going to orchestrate a prank like this, it's him."
He did leave a rose in my bed. Is this Sonny's idea of a joke? While it wouldn't surprise me, I would be seriously pissed off if he was playing with us.
Chace's hand circles my wrist, catching my attention and sending my stomach free falling. Why couldn't he have left me the rose? It's really unhealthy to have a crush this big. "See? Sonny's probably pranking himself for attention. I don't know why I didn't think of that. Let's forget him for a bit and concentrate on our assignment, yeah?"
Smiling, I dip my head. "Sure."
Isaac and Sienna gather their things, then head out the back door to the gym they joined off campus. Neither of them likes the one on campus--it's always full of male students grunting in the mirror as they pose with weights. I'm impressed they go at all. I don't mind running, but the gym is definitely not for me.
A few minutes later, Chace and I head out the front door. It's not as cold as yesterday, but cold enough to send a shiver rocketing down my spine.
Chace chucks his arm around my shoulders and we head along the sidewalk, then cut to a path through a wooded area that is a shortcut to campus. The bare branches above us sway in the wind, and the frost-covered grass crunches beneath my feet.
Then we pass the shops and restaurants, all decorated with glitter and hearts for Valentine's Day, Chace smirking at me the whole time. I want to be lighthearted and mess around with him like we usually do, but it feels like there's a dark cloud following me around. My parents were worriers, and I guess it's rubbed off on me.
Like always, when we arrive at the media building, Chace reaches for the door to let me go first. His gesture is enough to put a smile on my face. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, ma'am," he replies with a really bad American accent.
"That was awful. You should be ashamed."
His beautiful green
eyes roll. "Let's just get this done, yeah?"
The halls are surprisingly silent as we walk toward the editing suites. Chace and I are both hoping a degree in film and television production will land us jobs working on movies. Or TV at least. Living in LA would be nice, but I'm scared of emigrating in case I end up working in a restaurant forever, never being able to get a job in my field. Plus Americans drive on the wrong side of the road.
"Why is it so quiet?" I whisper to Chace.
"It's seven thirty in the morning, Lylah. Most university students don't like early morning classes and projects," he says sarcastically.
We've booked an editing room for the earliest time possible because I've left my assignment to the last minute. I've had so many papers to write this semester, I can hardly keep up. Chace is thankfully further along than me, so he offered to help. I could use another perspective, and I trust Chace to be honest and offer decent feedback.
"Whatever," I mutter, knowing he's right. I'm always up early, but I've never been on campus to work this early, and if I weren't on the verge of failure on this ad, I wouldn't be here before 8:00 a.m.
We head into the room, and Chace begins switching on the equipment while I check my phone. I hold my breath in hope. Please let there be a message from Sonny.
Nothing from him, but I do have a text from Isaac letting me know that he hasn't seen Sonny yet and one from Riley asking me to reconsider coming home over Valentine's Day. I can't go home, and I can't deal with him right now. Not if I'm going to get good marks on this assignment.
"Still nothing," I say, biting my lip as the uneasy feeling settles lower in my stomach.
"That doesn't mean anything is wrong, Lylah."
"I know. I just wish he would get in touch."
"He will soon." Chace's eyes flick away from mine too quickly. He's worried. That makes me feel worse. Of all of us, Chace is the one with a level head. If he's concerned, then we all should be. And that thought is terrifying. I can feel anxiety creeping up on me.
"Do you think... Do you think we should report him missing?" I ask, running my finger along the computer keyboard nervously.
"Lylah," Chace says.
I can't bear to look at him for fear I'll fall apart. Using his index finger, he gently turns my head and gazes into my eyes reassuringly. "There's nothing the police will do until it's been twenty-four hours, but we'll speak to campus security and see if they'll keep an eye out for him. Okay?"
"A lot can happen in twenty-four hours, Chace." Two years ago, my life upended in an even shorter period of time.
"I know, but there's nothing we can do about police protocol. Let's focus on getting your ad sorted. We need to try different music if you're still not sure. We'll work on that until ten, and then we'll leave."
"Yeah." I nod. "Okay. Thank you."
He gives me a smile that makes his cheek indent with the cutest dimple, but his eyes are flat.
"So," he says, clicking the mouse and bringing me back to task. "Work, or you'll fail."
He wouldn't be a very good motivational speaker. But I do as I'm told.
5
Friday
February 2
Against all odds, I work really well at this ungodly hour of the morning. So when our time is up, Chace books the suite for the same time tomorrow. It'll be Saturday, so I'm already planning on bringing my own travel mug--or bucket--of coffee.
We were really productive and made great progress on my media project, yet as we walk home together, I can't help but grumble. "Ugh, pink and red paper hearts everywhere." I flick my hand toward the love-themed window at the cafe I now plan to avoid until it's decorated for St. Patrick's Day. "In two weeks they're going to be in the bin."
Chace rolls his perfect emerald eyes, and my insides turn to mush. "Lylah, try to be more optimistic."
Maybe if things with Chace were going the way I've been hoping for the last year and a half, I would be more enthusiastic. It would be nice to have a distraction, something to look forward to this time of year. "I think you'll find that I'm a realist," I reply.
Okay, that's probably a stretch. I do sound like a miserable, single grump. Valentine's Day doubly sucks when it marks a family tragedy and you're painfully in love with someone who doesn't know you're in love with him.
I still remember when I first met Chace. He looked like he belonged in a Calvin Klein advertising campaign. His dark blond hair, muscular physique, and outgoing personality turned me into a blubbering mess when he introduced himself.
Then there's me. I'm petite with light blond hair, dark brown eyes, and a slightly socially awkward personality. Or maybe I'm only awkward around him.
Regardless, we don't match, and the sooner my heart gets that memo, the better. But so far I've not had much success on that front.
Chace launches into describing a trailer he saw for a new movie, and I can't help imagining us both in the theater, snuggled up next to each other, sharing popcorn. Totally inappropriate, Lylah. Focus.
As we turn the corner onto our street, I almost collide with someone tall. He's wearing a long, black leather coat. Underneath is a dark gray hoodie, the top of it pulled down low over the person's face.
"Sorry," I say to the only part of his face that is visible--dark-brown stubble that completely hides his chin.
"Right," the guy mumbles, stepping aside. His voice is very deep, but it sounds like he's trying to disguise it. But why would he? His head turns as I walk past, watching me from his shroud like I'm prey.
Chace raises his eyebrows, seemingly also uneasy.
I glance behind me. The man has disappeared.
Chace and I continue walking, but my chest tightens with nervousness.
"I guess it's not just Halloween that brings out the crazies," I say.
"Huh. He was kind of dressed like the grim reaper," Chace replies.
"It wasn't only the way he was dressed. His whole vibe was creepy. Intimidating."
"He probably couldn't see you with his hood that low."
I roll my eyes. Sure seemed like he could. "Yeah, what's up with that?"
"Hey, not everyone is blessed with quality hair like this," he teases, running his hand through his locks.
Whipping my hand out of my pocket, I slap Chace on the arm. Laughing, he bats my hand away. "Sorry. Forget it, babe. He's gone."
I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing him call me babe.
Chace starts walking again. I follow, pushing my legs faster to catch up with his long strides. At the moment, I don't want to be left behind.
"Lylah, I can hear you thinking. What has you freaked out?"
I shake my head, and my hair falls in my face. Brushing it back, I reply, "Nothing. I guess that guy startled me."
"I don't know how you get through April Fools' Day or Halloween."
"Well, those I like. You're supposed to scare people then."
"You're confusing."
So are you.
Chace and I make it home, and I dip my hand into my bag to grab the key. He stands behind me, and the close proximity makes my mind cloud. His warm breath blows through my hair and against my ear. Concentrate. Key. Lock. Now, Lylah.
With an unsteady hand, I turn the key, and the green door creaks open.
"Sonny?" I call as I tentatively walk through. There's no answer. My throat constricts. I just want to know that Sonny is safe. It's been more than twelve hours since we last saw him.
"You here, bro?" Chace calls.
We're met with complete silence. No one is home.
Turning to Chace with my bottom lip wedged between my teeth, I shrug my shoulders, at a loss.
Chace glances at his phone. "Wait--doesn't he have a class now?"
"Yes!" I exclaim. "He's always complaining that he has more classes on Fridays than any other day."
"So, he's probably there. Why don't we head back to campus and see if we can find him?" Chace shrugs his shoulder. "I know we just came from there, but at least it'll stop us
from worrying."
"I don't care that we have to go straight back, but you want to peek into his classroom? Like stalkers?"
Chace's lips kick up in a smile. "But we'll know he's safe, so who cares if we look a bit creepy doing it?"
"Yeah, I guess." He could go for lunch in town or hang out with a friend afterward, and we'd still be worrying. I can't wait for him to show up somewhere. "No, you're right. We need to look for him."
He takes a step back out the door. "Let's go. It's getting closer to the end of class. We'll have to hurry."
I lock the house back up and then check my phone. There's only a message from Sienna saying she and Isaac haven't seen Sonny. Charlotte will be looking too, but she and Sonny don't usually cross paths. She's strictly a class, library, and home kind of girl. The only time she goes out is if Sienna and I drag her. And the only time Sonny goes to the library is to cram for finals.
On a new mission, Chace and I race back to campus, with no time to stop and exchange pleasantries with anyone. Sonny's class will let out soon, and we could miss him. We pass people we know with a brief wave, but I don't care about being rude. There's a tenseness in my stomach that won't allow me to relax, and I know it won't disappear until I've seen or heard from Sonny.
Sonny's math building is up ahead. "Please be in there. Please be in there," I mutter, trying to calm the acid churning in my stomach.
"Lylah, I'm sure he's fine," Chace says. His eyes darken with worry as he stares at me like I'm a fragile child.
He doesn't fully know this side of you.
I don't want him to know everything about me. Chace is protective enough without seeing me at my worst. I think it would scare him.
"I'm just worried," I say, giving him the best smile I can muster. "I hate not knowing if he's okay. But you're right, he's probably sitting in that classroom, head bowed over his notebook, battling the worst hangover."
Except I don't believe the words that pour from my mouth any more than Chace does. He returns my smile, but it's weak and unconvincing.
As we approach the classroom, Chace takes my hand. I hold on to him. I peer through the large windows. My throat is so dry I feel like I could choke.
"He's not there," I whisper. Three rows of students stare at their professor as he lectures. None of them are Sonny. "Are you sure this is the right room?"
"I've walked over with him before," Chace says, "and there is only one empty seat."