Truly, Madly, Deadly

“Cooper!” Sawyer folded over herself, hands splayed over her toweled private parts.

 

Cooper paused, obviously taken aback. “Um, hi?” He tried his best to avert his eyes, finally staring up at the ceiling. “Did I—did you—I’m sorry, I just have no idea what to say.” His head inched downward, and Sawyer caught him eyeing her towel. “We just didn’t have this kind of thing at my old school.”

 

The shake started low in Sawyer’s gut and before she could stop it, tears were rolling down her cheeks and she was pinching her naked knees together. Cooper’s eyes went big.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

Sawyer just nodded, unable to speak. The laughter was wracking her whole body, the terror of the situation replaced by the sheer ridiculousness of it. “I’m wearing a towel in the middle of school.”

 

“Yeah.” Cooper shrugged out of his hoodie and looked away while Sawyer slid into it. He started to laugh with her when she didn’t stop. “Um, do you always run around school buck naked?”

 

Sawyer wagged her head before a snort escaped. That made her and Cooper laugh harder. Finally she straightened up, taking deep gasping breaths.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head.

 

“Don’t be,” Cooper quipped, his eyes running over her bare legs.

 

“Someone shredded my clothes. I was in the shower, and they shredded everything. My track clothes, my school clothes, everything.”

 

Cooper went suddenly serious. “Sawyer, that sucks.”

 

“Almost as much as making a break for it in a school-issued towel.”

 

“And a fine sweatshirt.”

 

“Yeah.” Sawyer giggled again. “Thanks for that.”

 

Cooper jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Can I drive you somewhere? To the mall or something?”

 

“No. The only thing better than cruising around here in my all together would be hitting the mall this way. I’m just going to head home.”

 

“Oh, right. Sure.”

 

They stood in awkward silence for a beat.

 

“So, maybe, once you get some clothes on we could go out or something sometime.”

 

Sawyer’s cheeks burned despite her lack of clothing, and her heart did a traitorous double thump. Before she could open her mouth, before she could say that she would love to, she was pelted with bitter guilt. A kiss—two kisses—she could pretend didn’t happen. But she couldn’t fall for Cooper. She was supposed to be in love with Kevin. She was supposed to be the mourning girlfriend. Still, the zing she felt while looking into Cooper’s eyes was undeniable, and she wanted to say yes.

 

“I’m sorry. I can’t. I”—she looked down at here bare toes on the cement—“I have to get going.”

 

She pushed past Cooper and took off at a sprint, pumping her legs until the heat roiled through them, ignoring the searing tears on her bare feet as she cleared the blacktop. When she was safely in the driver’s seat of her car, engine on, heat on full blast, she started to cry. The tears came slowly at first, little rivulets of angry sobs, but as she thought over the notes, the flowers sent to her house, the shredded remains of her clothes, the tears got heavier, her breath got shorter. Her body hiccupped, caught in the wretched fist of guilt—and fear.

 

At home, Sawyer changed into sweats and pulled her shredded clothes from her backpack. As she did, a single white business card floated out of her bag, settling on the floor like a flag of surrender. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands, rubbing her thumb over the raised gold insignia of the Crescent Hill Police Department. She sucked in a slow breath and dug out her cell phone; she yipped when it chirped in her hand.

 

“Oh, crap, Chloe, you scared the shit out of me.”

 

“And a holy hello to you too.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Sawyer tossed Detective Biggs’s card on her bureau and flopped onto her bed. “I’m just completely freaking out.”

 

Chloe clucked sympathetically. “Oh, sweetie. Maggie is really getting to you.”

 

Sawyer nodded. “I’m thinking of calling the police.”

 

“On Maggie?”

 

Sawyer pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. She struggled with how much to tell Chloe. She didn’t want her best friend to worry about her. She also didn’t want to have to tell Chloe everything—everything she’d been hiding. “Just…there’s a bunch of stuff going on and Maggie, well, she—it’s complicated, Chloe.”

 

Chloe paused, considering. “If you can’t explain it to me, how are you going to explain it to the police? I mean, what are you going to say?”

 

Sawyer sat up, hugged a pillow to her chest. “I’m not exactly sure.” She stopped then, holding the words in her mouth. “Maybe I’ll tell them that someone is stalking me.”