One Tiny Secret

Chapter Eighteen

“It’s Gunnar,” someone cries from the gathering crowd.

“Gunnar?” I whisper, still dazed and not quite believing what I’m seeing right in front of me.

Parker grabs me by the shoulders and I glance at his concerned face, but then I pan back down to Gunnar’s body. Everything Parker is trying to tell me sounds like a hum in my ears. All I hear clearly are the sobs moving through the crowd of people near me. It feels like the scene around me is passing by in slow motion.

One of the teachers bends down next to Gunnar in order to check his pulse. “He’s dead,” the teacher says.

“Dani? Dani?” Parker’s voice finally gets through. “You need to clean yourself off.”

I nod and allow him to lead me to the restrooms just outside the gym. He opens the door and ushers me in, telling me that he’ll be right outside.

Looking in the mirror, I see the blood smeared across my face. My clothes have a few spots, as well. I don’t even look like me right now in the reflection. My pupils are completely dilated in the dim bathroom light, and my skin looks pale against the deep red color of the drying blood. I reach up to touch my face to make sure the image is mine and notice my hands shaking.

Parker’s voice comes through the cracked open door. “How are you doing in there?”

“I don’t know,” is all I can say as I continue to stare at my reflection.

“Do you need me to come in?” His voice is oddly comforting.

“No.”

Snapping out of my zombie-like state, I turn on the faucet and grab a few paper towels from the dispenser. I wet them and begin cleaning my face, one stroke at a time. The more blood I clean off, the more I begin to return to normal. Well, at least as normal as I can feel after what happened. My skin starts to look bright red and raw as I continue to wipe faster and harder, trying to clean my face as quickly as I can before I have a chance to freak out.

The last conversation I had with Gunnar begins replaying in my mind. I remember how angry I was with him, but I never would’ve wanted him dead. Not even after being the complete jerk that he was.

With my face cleaned off, I gaze down at the blood on my clothes. I want to rip them off and throw them away. I feel so dirty and unclean, but I just stand there staring, frozen.

The familiar chime of my message notification rings throughout the still bathroom, sounding loud in my ears. Bringing up the message, I see it’s from Unknown:

Looks like someone knocked Pretty Boy off his pedestal. You’re welcome.

I stiffen again while looking at the text. Dropping the phone onto the counter, I crumple down to rest on the floor. A tear slides down my face when I realize I was the cause of Gunnar’s death. This was all a part of this sick bastard’s game, and I’m the pawn being moved around the board. What am I going to do? I feel so helpless.

“Parker,” I struggle to call out. When he doesn’t respond, I dig deep and try again. “Parker!”

“Yeah, I’m here,” he answers.

“Unknown killed him,” I murmur.

“What?” he asks, but when I don’t respond, he says, “I’m coming in, okay?”

The next thing I know Parker’s kneeling in front of me, trying to get me to look at him.

“Unknown killed him,” I repeat. “That unknown f*cker killed him.”

“How do you know that?” he asks, his words laced with anxiety. “They were saying that it was an accident. A teacher asked him to fix the festival banner because it was crooked—at least, that’s what they’re saying.”

I reach up and grab my phone before proceeding to press it into his chest. “Check the last message.”

I watch as he unlocks the screen, but the look he sends me right after isn’t very reassuring. “The last message was from me.”

“Shit. Unknown erased it already?” I ask in frustration, snatching the phone from Parker’s hands, wanting to make sure the text really wasn’t there. “I’m so tired of this! What did I do to deserve this?”

“Nothing. You did nothing to deserve this, Dani.”

I want to be angry with him about the whole girlfriend thing, but when he does stuff like this, it makes me want to forgive him. How can someone be so caring and yet be such a scumbag liar at the same time?

“We should talk to your dad. No matter the consequences. This is getting completely out of hand, and I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he says, gently pulling me to be closer to him.

I want to push him away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. He’s the only one who knows what I’m going through, and if I don’t have him, I have no one.

The flashing lights from the sheriff’s cars and ambulance fill our vision as we emerge from the girls’ bathroom. A large group of students and teachers are gathered around the area just outside the gym’s doors. A few deputies are making everyone step back while they cordon off the area.

“It looks like we might be talking to your dad sooner than I thought,” Parker comments.

I see my father rushing over to us with a look of concern on his face. For once, he doesn’t look pissed or upset to see me. He seems genuinely worried.

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you. Why haven’t you answered your phone?” he asks, grabbing me in a hug and holding on to me for dear life. “I was so worried when I heard what happened, and that you were right there when the boy fell.”

“I’m okay, Dad. My phone must have just been acting up,” I reply, returning his hug.

Pulling away from me, he scans my face and then looks down at my clothes. “Is that blood?”

“Yeah,” I reply quietly.

“Oh my God, Dani. Are you sure you’re okay? You know sometimes when people see things like this, they go into shock,” he says, peering into my eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up,” I lie. I can’t pull myself to tell him the truth. I glance over at Parker and he gives me a look. I know he wants me to tell my dad what happened.

“Parker, what are you doing here?” my father asks.

“I’m assisting with the school’s newspaper, and I was asked to help with their booth tonight,” he replies.

“He’s Mr. Whitman’s assistant for the semester, Dad,” I state when I see the confusion on his face.

“Oh, I see. Well, thank you for taking care of my daughter, but I think I’ve got it from here.”

“But Dad—”

He cuts me off. “Don’t but Dad me. I’m taking you home, now.” Shaking Parker’s hand, “Thanks again. You should probably go report what you witnessed to Deputy Samson before you head home, all right?”

“Sure thing,” Parker says, and flashes me another quick look.

I know exactly what he’s trying to tell me through that look, but this isn’t the time to just blurt out that my psycho stalker just killed Gunnar—like he’d believe me or Parker, anyway.

“Later, Dani,” Parker calls out to me as my father and I begin to walk away. All I do is glance back and then continue moving forward as my dad drapes his sheriff’s jacket around my shoulders.

“I’ll drive you home. You can pick up your car tomorrow. I don’t trust your nerves with driving right now,” he explains as we stroll toward his cruiser.

“I’ll be fine driving home. You don’t have to baby me.”

“Will you just stop arguing and get in the car,” he states with a sense of exhaustion as he pulls open the passenger door to his vehicle.

“Fine,” I murmur, plopping down into the seat.

“Thank you.”

As we pull away from the school, I fidget with the hem of my blouse while staring down at the splotches of dried blood. I want to talk to my dad about what really happened, but I’m scared he’ll just say I’m being silly or something. He’s already had that reaction before, so what would make this time any different?

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah,” he replies, concentrating on the road ahead.

I pause for a moment to really consider if I want to continue with my question. I want him to believe me so much and realize that I’m actually in danger here. I only wish I had concrete evidence, since that seems to be the only way he’ll believe me.

Mustering the courage, I begin again. “If I were to tell you something that might sound completely crazy, would you believe me?”

“That’s a really odd question, Dani. Does this have anything to do with those strange texts you claimed you were receiving?”

I nod, yielding to the fact he’s not going to believe me.

“Now, we’ve been over this already—”

“I know. But I’m telling you the truth. Someone has been harassing me with texts, and I think the person killed Gunnar,” I reply, feeling good that I said it out loud. At least now it’s out in the open.

“Stop it, Dani. Gunnar’s death was just an unfortunate accident. He fell from the rafters adjusting a silly banner. That’s it, end of story. And where’s your proof of these texts anyway?”

“The person is deleting them from my phone before I have a chance to show anyone,” I huff.

“Will you listen to yourself? Have you ever heard of that happening?”

“No, but I hear there are apps for this kind of thing.”

“An app? Really?” he asks. “Dani, I think you just need to get home, clean up, and relax. You’ve been through a lot tonight, and you’re probably just in shock.”

“Will you quit with the whole ‘in shock’ shit, seriously!” I yell.

My dad slams on his breaks.

“Don’t ever talk to me like that, young lady,” he snaps, pointing a finger at me. His face is flushed and I can see the flames of anger brushing his cheeks.

I sink back into my seat and cross my arms in front of my chest. I hear him release a growl as the car begins moving again.

He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m really starting to worry about you,” he comments, seeming a little calmer.

“That makes two of us.”