He’s being weird.
I don’t like it.
“What took you so long?” Dustin asks as I draw closer.
I stop just in front of him, taking him in. The black eye is long gone but he still has that wary, distrustful attitude going on whenever I’m first around him, and I can’t help but find it sort of hot. We haven’t fallen back into our familiar best friends comfort zone, and maybe I don’t want to.
We will never go back to that point in our lives, I’ve realized. We’ve changed. Our relationship has changed. Maybe we’ll survive all of this uncertainty and maybe we won’t, but right now, I need him.
“Have you talked to Em lately?” When my mom called right before I left the house, Em’s mom told her she’s still not home. She was crying about it too.
He scratches his chest, frowning up at me. “Is this a trick question?”
“Why would you say that?” I rest my hands on my hips. God, he really is so annoying sometimes.
“I’m afraid if I say no, you’ll be pissed at me. And if I say yes, you’ll be even more pissed at me.”
I roll my eyes and plop down next to him on the step, my side brushing against his, our legs bumping. He’s warm and solid and he smells good, like soapy clean boy. It’s all so familiar I want to curl up into his arms and make all the bad stuff go away. “Just be honest, Dustin. Have you seen her?” I hesitate, then decide to tell him straight out. “She’s…missing.”
“What? Are you serious?” His mouth hangs open in shock.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Her mom called mine. I almost got in trouble because Mom thought I knew what was up. Like I was out with Em all last night getting into trouble.” I’m still a little miffed that she went into attack mode.
“Huh. I saw her at school yesterday.” He looks off into the distance, squinting against the sun. “But that’s it.”
“So you really weren’t with her last night?” The question leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, but I had to ask.
“Why are you asking me again? Don’t you believe me?”
“Just answer the question!”
He glares at me, his dark eyes full of anger. “No, I wasn’t with her.” His mouth clamps shut, like he was going to say something else. Maybe mention the name of the person he was with last night.
My heart drops when I see the guilt in his gaze, how he suddenly won’t look at me. “Who were you with?” I ask softly. I have no room to talk. I was with Ryan last night, though I don’t want to tell Dustin. I don’t want to make him mad.
Dustin sighs and drops his head, staring at the steps. “You’ll be pissed if I tell you.”
I absolutely cannot judge. “I won’t be, I swear.”
“Brianne.” He lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine once more. “We went to the movies last night.”
“How was it?” I’m proud of how calm I sound, because deep inside my stomach is a twisted knot.
“Shitty. She hated the movie and I thought it was hilarious. I guess she doesn’t have my sense of humor.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Then she tried to attack me in the Jeep.”
“Please don’t give me the gory details.” I shake my head.
“There aren’t any gory details to give, Livvy. She doesn’t do it for me. At all.”
Not like you do. The unspoken words are right there, hanging between us. I’m not so egotistical to think he’d say that. More like, I know he wants to say that, because I know Dustin. I can see it in his eyes, read it in his body language. And if our circumstances were different, I’d want to hear him say it too.
But I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to think about it either. We need to focus on Em, not us.
There is no us.
“Will you help me? Can we go looking for Em?” I ask him, desperate to change the subject. “I have a few ideas where she might be.”
“Yeah, sure.” He nods and stands, holding out his hand for me. I automatically take it, letting him pull me to my feet, and he doesn’t let my hand go. His thumb streaks across my palm, the gentle touch making me shiver. “I’ll go tell my mom what I’m doing and then we’ll leave.”
“Okay.” I nod and he smiles, reluctantly letting go of my hand, his fingers somehow seeming to cling to mine.
I watch him walk through the front door, then turn away, my gaze going to the street. Just in time to see Ryan’s white BMW come to a halt directly in front of Dustin’s house.
Oh. Shit.
My heart starts to pound and icy cold dread slips over my skin, making me shiver. The passenger-side window slides down, revealing Ryan behind the wheel and Tuttle sitting in the passenger seat. I frown as they both scowl at me, and I wonder about their so-called friendship. Amanda told me Tuttle didn’t like Ryan, yet I see the two of them together more often than not lately. It’s strange.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ryan yells as I approach the car, sounding like a jealous, possessive boyfriend. Exactly what I’ve been wanting from him for the last few weeks.
Until now.
“Keep your voice down,” I tell him when I reach his BMW. I’m standing by the passenger side, trying my best to ignore Tuttle and that shitty little smirk on his face, but it’s difficult. I can sense he wants to say something so bad and it’s taking everything within him to keep his mouth shut.
I send him a dark look before my gaze meets Ryan’s. “Why are you yelling at me?”
“Why are you at Dustin’s house? I thought you were through with that asshole,” he practically spits out. His eyes are narrowed and his cheeks are ruddy. He looks pissed.
“We’re just friends,” I remind him, sending him a meaningful look. “And right now isn’t the best time to have this conversation.” I tilt my head in Tuttle’s direction, hoping he gets it.
But Ryan clearly doesn’t care. “Your so-called friend wants to bang you. Or maybe he already has and I’m just finding out about it now?”
Oh my God. I can’t believe he’s acting like this.
I round the front of the car, going to the driver’s side so maybe we can keep our conversation a little more private. Though I know Tuttle is trying his best to hear every word we say. “There’s nothing going on between Dustin and I. You know this. I was just with you last night,” I say, my tone turning pleading. “Can we talk about this later?”
“What’s there to talk about, huh? You need to make up your mind who you want to be with, Livvy. It’s either me or him.” He revs the BMW’s engine, his expression reminding me of a pouting little boy who doesn’t get his way. “You can’t have us both.”
“But—” I start to say, but he shifts the car into gear and pulls out, driving off so fast he creates black skid marks on the asphalt.
I swear I can hear Tuttle’s laughter as they drive away, mocking me as I stand there alone in the middle of the street like an idiot.
“What are you doing?”
I turn to see Dustin standing next to his Jeep where it sits in his driveway.
“Why are you in the road?” he asks, hitting the keyless remote so the Jeep beeps and the lights flash. I hear the doors unlock and Dustin tilts his head toward his car. “Come on, let’s go.”
I go to his Jeep and open the passenger door, sliding into the seat. My head is full of too many thoughts, all of them centered on what just happened between Ryan and me. I should be thrilled he’s willing to stake his claim, that he’s actually jealous of my relationship with Dustin. But I don’t like his demand, and hate the way he yelled at me in front of stupid Tuttle. I can be friends with Dustin and be with Ryan. I can have both of them in my life, can’t I?
Glancing over at Dustin, I catch him looking at me, his eyes full of too much emotion, his smile too soft, too sweet. My heart pangs and I smile at him in return, hating how torn I feel.
Hating worse the thought of Dustin not being in my life anymore because Ryan doesn’t want him to be.
We drive all over town, searching for Em, but we can’t find her. We visit al
l of her favorite haunts, the coffee shop she prefers and the bookstore that sells bongs. The pizza place close to school and even the stupid mall, though we haven’t hung out there in forever. We both text people we think she could possibly be with, stop by a few of their houses, even stop by the school, but she’s nowhere.
It’s like she upped and disappeared.
The longer we search, the more worried I become. I forget about all of my stupid problems and can only focus on her. Our friendship. How quickly it crumbled apart, all because of the boy I’m with. The boy I can’t let go of.
The boy I don’t want to let go of.
Yet I let Em go so easily, and that fills me with guilt. What kind of friend am I? Am I partially to blame for her disappearance? I think of how she acted when I first came home from Oregon. How she always wanted to get high, always wanted to party and how clingy she became. I didn’t get it then, and eventually blamed it on guilt over her messing around with Dustin when I was gone.
But maybe there was something else going on. Something more. I wish I knew what.
I wish we could find her.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Dustin says, sounding exhausted. It’s far past dinnertime and dark, the sun having set over an hour ago. I’m starving but nothing sounds good. I feel sort of sick inside over everything that’s happened the past twenty-four hours.
“I’m not hungry,” I tell him, staring out the window as we drive down the busy street. We’re not in the best part of town, more on the industrial side, though there are a few restaurants and a nightclub that caters to teens.
“Wait a minute,” I say as a memory washes over me. “Isn’t the Echo Club down here?”
Dustin makes a face. “Yeah, but that place is a shit hole.”
He’s right. I remember going to the teen nightclub one Saturday night last spring with Em, right before school was out. We put on our sluttiest outfits on purpose and took the city bus there, giggling and falling against each other when men blatantly stared at us. Once we got into the club, we flirted with the doorman and got in for a discount, then danced our asses off for hours, putting on a show for all the leering boys who watched us as we fulfilled their lesbian fantasies.
Boys are so simple sometimes. So stupid.
Two of them approached us, their grins huge, their breath smelling of beer. Em was feeling bold, asking them if they had more, and they took us out to their car in the parking lot, showing us the ice chest full of beer in the trunk. We oohed and ahhed over that ice chest like it was found treasure.
We’d also gotten drunk. And high. We lost ourselves in the music playing on the radio, the booze, the boys, both of us fighting them off, slapping their hands away from our legs, our chests. Our gazes would clash and we’d laugh and laugh, pissing the boys off, not like we cared.
Those boys…I hadn’t sensed it then, but when I think back now, I remember how they looked at us, their gazes dark. Primal. How they discussed exactly what they were going to do with us—and what they said hadn’t been very nice. Em acted like it was no big deal. She offered them both a blowjob if they just drove us home and they’d enthusiastically agreed that was a great idea.
Until Em threw up the moment the car lurched to a stop in the parking lot of a park close to our house. She vomited everywhere, all over the backseat and the guys freaking out. All I could do was laugh at her, laugh at the boys whose faces had turned red with rage.
They abandoned us in that park, the owner of the car tossing out a string of curse words at us before he peeled out of the parking lot. We walked home, Em chomping on a stick of mint gum I had in my purse, both of us laughing hysterically over how she ruined the backseat of that guy’s car. She said later that was one of the best nights of her life.
I realize now how easily it could’ve turned into one of the worst nights of our life.
“She might be there,” I say, turning to look at him. “She loves the Echo Club.”
“Seriously?” Dustin sounds skeptical.
“Yes, seriously. Let’s go.”
He drives to the club, pulling into the parking lot and parking his Jeep. I practically run to the entrance and Dustin follows behind me, calling my name, asking me to slow down, but I don’t. I’m a girl on a mission and the bouncer guarding the door watches me approach with a wary expression. There is a line of people waiting to get in, all of them shooting me dirty looks when I stop in front of the doorman and smile at him.
“Back of the line,” he says, jerking his thumb in the line’s direction.
“I’m looking for a friend,” I start, but his ominous scowl silences me.
“You’re all looking for a friend,” he mutters with a quick shake of his head. “You’re going to have to wait with the rest of them.”
I turn to see Dustin stopping just behind me, a frown marring his face. “Do you have money?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Yeah. Like fifty bucks.”
“Fifty bucks if you let us in now,” I tell the bouncer.
“Hey,” Dustin protests softly, but I ignore him.
The doorman laughs. “Big deal, little girl. That leaves me, what, ten bucks after the cover charge? No thanks.” He crosses his beefy arms in front of his barrel chest. “Move it.”
I try my best, most imploring, sweet and innocent girl look, but his expression becomes sour. Like he’s disgusted with me. Dustin tugs on my arm and I go with him, glaring at the doorman until I finally have to turn away or else I’ll trip on something.
“Did you really think he’d let you in with a bribe?” Dustin asks as he escorts me to the back of the line.
“Maybe.” I give a one-shoulder shrug, trying to ignore the irritation and frustration rolling through my veins. People are staring at us, their noses wrinkled in disgust, and I send them death glares right back. They turn away from us and I glance down at my clothes. I’m not dressed for a hot Saturday night at the club and neither is Dustin, so I know that’s why they’re passing judgment. That’ll probably hurt our chances of getting inside too—they don’t care if we’re paying customers. Sometimes they let people in only because they look good.
“We’re never going to get in,” I whine as I lean against the rough brick exterior of the building. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering a little when the cool breeze suddenly washes over us. “We’re never going to find her.”
Dustin’s not even paying attention to me. He’s too busy staring at his phone, tapping at the keyboard as he sends a text or a Snapchat or whatever. I want to smack him. I want to snatch his phone out of his hand and force him to look at me. To listen to me.
He smiles a little, his gaze still glued to his phone screen, and the realization hits—whoever he’s communicating with, he’d rather be with that person than me.
And that hurts.
“Maybe we should go,” I tell him, my voice low, my throat raw. I’m trying to hold back the tears that threaten and I swallow hard, give a little sniff.
Dustin looks up with a frown, his brow furrowed. “You don’t want to look inside?”
I shake my head. Remain silent. I’m afraid if I try to talk I’ll burst into tears instead. I don’t know why I’m so emotional. Maybe it’s because we can’t find Em. Or because I made Ryan mad and jealous when I didn’t mean to. And because I’m losing Dustin and I have no one to blame but myself.
It’s all of those things. Every single one of them. And I don’t know which one hurts the most.
“Let’s go then,” Dustin says, taking my arm once more and leading me back out toward the parking lot. I say nothing, stumbling along beside him, ignoring my buzzing phone. It’s probably Mom wondering where I’m at. Or Ryan, ready to chew me out for spending my Saturday night with his enemy and my friend.
I climb into the car and Dustin’s behind the wheel a few moments later, starting up his Jeep before he turns to look at me. “You all right?”
“Yeah,” I croak, nodding before I turn to stare out the window. My phone buzzes ag
ain, making my butt vibrate.
“You should check that,” Dustin says. “What if it’s Em?”
Closing my eyes, I thunk my head against the cool window, feeling like an idiot. What if it is Em? Why am I ignoring the phone? Fifteen minutes ago I would’ve jumped all over it and now I’m filled with dread over who it might be. I don’t understand why I’m so reluctant.
My mind is one confused, swirling mess.
“Olivia,” Dustin says, his voice deep and commanding, reminding me that yeah, I do need to check my phone, so I do.
And oh my God, it is Em.
I’m fine. At home. Mom wants to kill me and Dad can’t stop yelling and throwing things. It’s gonna be a fun Saturday night.
Relief hits me so hard I sag against the seat, exhaling loudly. I glance over at Dustin, who’s watching me so very carefully, and I offer up a small nod.
Just before I burst into tears.
“I want us to be honest with each other.” I pause, not even waiting for an answer or a reaction. “I’m sick and tired of keeping secrets and playing games. I need someone to be real with.” Desperately, I almost add.
Amanda steps onto the front porch, closing the door behind her. “I’m not a game player, Livvy.”
Sighing, I tilt my head, contemplating her. It’s a warm and sunny Sunday afternoon and I rode my bike to her house, something I haven’t done in years. Ride my bike, that is. I always got a ride thanks to Em. But she’s currently on lockdown and not talking, not that I’d ask her for a ride now. I couldn’t go to Dustin’s since that was…done. No way was I attempting to reach out to Ryan yet.
Amanda is my only option and we don’t live in the same neighborhood. So I pulled my bike out of the garage, hosed it off, dried it with a kitchen towel—only to get grease on it—then left before Mom saw the mess I made.
“Neither am I,” I finally say to her, noting the skeptical look she gives me. “Fine, I’m not always straightforward or whatever, but neither are you.”